You strike from afar, but that does not make you a coward. You are a musician, the song of your bowstring nought but a warning, singing the silent promise of a quick death.
You have a Towering Physique,
Weathered Skin,
and Bald
Hair. Your Face is
Rakish, your
Speech Whispery. You have
Soiled Clothing. You are
Tolerant and
Vain.
Your age: 19.
π Attributes
HP: 6
Armor: 1
STR: 7
DEX: 7
WIL: 11
π Equipment (7)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Serrated Knife (d6)
Boiled Leather (1 Armor)
Heartroot Salve (1 uses)
Sessile Oak (d8, bulky)
Gold: 5
π Bonds
You found a wounded beast in the forest, but chose to ignore it. You see it everywhere now, but only when youβre alone. It looks sad, but not angry. You cannot become panicked when acting alone.
π Omens
A thick, unnatural fog has begun encroaching upon an ancient and holy grove. It is said to be the work of a great forest spirit, angered by nearby deforestation.
π Your Past
How did you earn your bow?
Hunting. When taking the Supply action, your ability to secure Rations increases by one step (e.g. 1d4 becomes 1d6).
What kind of wood is your bow made from?
Sessile Oak (d8, bulky). Slams into targets. On Critical Damage something is torn off.