An odd birthmark, a strange smell: somehow, the touch of elsewhere still lingers. Wherever you are, you have trouble fitting in. Roll on the Omens table (even if you're not the youngest player), but keep the results private for now.
You have a Athletic Physique,
Marked Skin,
and Braided
Hair. Your Face is
Perfect, your
Speech Whispery. You have
Foreign Clothing. You are
Honorable and
Rude.
Your age: 22.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 4
Armor: 1
STR: 3
DEX: 5
WIL: 13
🙛 Equipment (9)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Salt pouch
Heirloom amulet (petty)
Sling (d6)
Dagger (d6)
Weathered Longbow (d8, bulky)
Leather Jerkin (1 Armor)
Drowning Rod
Twig (petty)
Gold: 15
🙛 Bonds
Twig: A white crow appeared to you in a dream, holding a twig in its mouth. You awoke the next morning with The Twig (petty) in your hand. You believe it brings you luck. It smells faintly of sulfur.
🙛 Omens
Strange cracks have appeared in the night sky, revealing a swirling vortex of light and color. Some say that the divide between realms is at its weakest in centuries, and fear what may emerge from the other side.
🙛 Your Past
Who took you in?
An old hunter. You were both quite happy, until it all ended. Take a Weathered Longbow (d8, bulky) and a Leather Jerkin (1 Armor).
What keeps bad tidings at bay?
Drowning Rod: A finger-sized wooden stick that doubles in size each time it is fully submerged in water. It does not shrink down again.