You walk the line between healer and harrower, knowing the frailty of the flesh but also the secrets that lie within. With the right tools, life and death are merely words.
You have a Brawny Physique,
Marked Skin,
and Oily
Hair. Your Face is
Rakish, your
Speech Blunt. You have
Livery Clothing. You are
Humble and
Rude.
Your age: 31.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 6
Armor: 1
STR: 9
DEX: 18
WIL: 11
🙛 Equipment (6)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Bonesaw (d6)
Bandages (3 uses)
Leech (3 uses)
Stained medical finery (petty)
Alchemical Sigils (petty, +1 Armor)
Quicksilver (4 uses)
Bracelet (petty)
Gold: 4
🙛 Bonds
Bracelet: You promised a childhood friend that you’d bring them back a rare gift, something unique in all the world. Take a Bracelet (petty) woven from twine and wildflowers.
🙛 Omens
Folks say that a faint laughter can be heard echoing out of wells all over the city. At night, they say the echoes change to sobs.
🙛 Your Past
How have you 'improved' yourself?
Your chest is lined with alchemical sigils, toughening the skin (Armor 1). Wearing other metallic armor nullifies the effect.
What rare tool is essential to your work?
Quicksilver: A stimulant. Go first in combat, and automatically pass any WIL saves for one hour. Addictive: Save STR or become deprived after 24 hours without it. 4 uses.