You are an artisan of the arcane, a smith of subtle forces. In the crucible of your workshop, the laws that govern this world are warped to suit your needs.
You have a Scrawny Physique,
Tanned Skin,
and Long
Hair. Your Face is
Square, your
Speech Droning. You have
Rancid Clothing. You are
Honorable and
Vain.
Your age: 23.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 5
Armor: 0
STR: 9
DEX: 7
WIL: 12
🙛 Equipment (5)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Lantern
Oil Can (6 uses)
Needle-Knife (d6)
Protective Gloves (petty)
Pyrophoric Gel
Blood-Red Flower (petty)
Gold: 4
🙛 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
Hunters talk of a curse that befalls any who kill a beast with a streak of white fur: soon after, they are found dead in their homes. Each day, there are fewer and fewer creatures to hunt.
🙛 Your Past
What went horribly wrong?
You were exposed to a long-acting truth serum whose effects have yet to wear off. The disorder has its advantages: you cannot repeat lies you've heard, either.
What alchemical marvel is the product of your latest ingenuity?
Pyrophoric Gel: A sticky green fluid that catches fire when exposed to air. It lasts for 8 hours and cannot be extinguished.