You are a shepherd to the departed. You listen to the final whispers of the dead as they descend into the cold, unyielding earth. You know that to fully celebrate the gift of life, we must honor its finale as well.
You have a Scrawny Physique,
Marked Skin,
and Curly
Hair. Your Face is
Perfect, your
Speech Booming. You have
Livery Clothing. You are
Serene and
Lazy.
Your age: 36.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 5
Armor: 1
STR: 15
DEX: 14
WIL: 12
🙛 Equipment (7)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Lantern
Oil Can (6 uses)
Stake (d6)
Chains (10ft)
Manacles
Stone Heart (1 Armor)
Gold: 13
🙛 Bonds
Stone Heart: You crossed a creature of the Wood, and it cursed you with a Stone Heart (1 Armor). With each passing month, the stone grows heavier by one slot. Until your debt is lifted, you cannot truly die.
🙛 Omens
An ancient tree at the heart of a sleepy village has suddenly withered and died, despite showing no signs of disease. After its trunk was cut, a bloody hand was found in its core.
🙛 Your Past
What did you take from the dead?
A mortal wound from a freed revenant. You were healed, but the disfigurement has made you a pariah. You require neither air nor sustenance but are still subject to pain and death. Trapped between worlds, the dead see you as one of their own.
What tool was invaluable in your work?
Manacles. Though old, it's still effective even against the very strong. You don't have the key.