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 Statuesque Physique,
Tanned Skin,
and Wavy
Hair. Your Face is
Rakish, your
Speech Droning. You have
Filthy Clothing. You are
Humble and
Nervous.
Your age: 24.
π Attributes
HP: 3
Armor: 1
STR: 17
DEX: 13
WIL: 4
π Equipment (10)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Salt pouch
Heirloom amulet (petty)
Sling (d6)
Dagger (d6)
Weathered Longbow (d8, bulky)
Leather Jerkin (1 Armor)
Ivy Worm
Journal
Gold: 10
π Bonds
Journal: You inherited an old Journal, bound in bark. Each evening, its pages are filled with the events of the day, crassly from the journalβs perspective. The writing is crude, but accurate.
π Omens
The constellations have slowly started shifting in the night sky, forming unfamiliar patterns that have stargazers and sages perplexed. Even the animals seem disturbed.
π 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?
Ivy Worm: A green worm often mistaken for a weed. Swallowed whole, it absorbs any toxins or rot in the body before exiting through the usual way.