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 Flabby Physique,
Webbed Skin,
and Filthy
Hair. Your Face is
Pale, your
Speech Whispery. You have
Elegant Clothing. You are
Tolerant and
Craven.
Your age: 29.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 2
Armor: 1
STR: 15
DEX: 6
WIL: 9
🙛 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)
Rabbit's Foot (petty)
Miniature Lute
Gold: 7
🙛 Bonds
Miniature Lute: An entertainer once visited your home, filling it with story and song. He left one day without a word, leaving behind only A Miniature Lute. Something rattles inside.
🙛 Omens
The local fauna is behaving oddly, displaying heightened aggression, or fleeing the area entirely. Hunters talk of a shadowy figure that roams the Wood, calling to the animals.
🙛 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?
Rabbit's Foot: You were wearing it when they found you. They say it is the foot of she who left you and that it protects you from witch magic. Petty.