You are a specter in the night, a fleeting shadow that slips by its prey, unseen. Each kill is a test of cunning and animal determination, a contest between life and death. You know that one day you will lose. You look forward to it.
You have a Scrawny Physique,
Rosy Skin,
and Curly
Hair. Your Face is
Bony, your
Speech Whispery. You have
Bloody Clothing. You are
Humble and
Craven.
Your age: 36.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 3
Armor: 1
STR: 10
DEX: 10
WIL: 3
🙛 Equipment (7)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Tarp
Boiled Leather (1 Armor)
Short Sword (d6)
Spring-Loaded Trap
Tooth (petty)
Iron Rattle
Blood-Red Flower (petty)
Gold: 6
🙛 Bonds
Blood-Red Flower: The Dawn Brigade did your family a service, giving you a dried Blood-Red Flower (petty) as proof. When the flower turns white, it means the favor is owed.
🙛 Omens
The songbirds of the Wood have fallen eerily silent as of late. Hunters claim that a spectral figure has been spotted wandering the forest, gazing longingly at anyone it encounters.
🙛 Your Past
What did you last hunt?
A silver marsh crawler that killed someone close to you. You now carry its Tooth (petty) on a chain around your neck as a warning to others of its kind. The tooth hums softly when something is stalking you.
What tool is always in your pack?
Iron Rattle: A noisemaker for distracting or scaring your quarry. Sounds convincingly like a snake.