Wits are your sharpest weapon, a facade your strongest shield. But when you do lose, you lose badly.
You have a Statuesque Physique, Rosy Skin, and Curly Hair. Your Face is Sunken, your Speech Squeaky. You have Antique Clothing. You are Cautious and Deceitful.
Your age: 29.
Attributes
HP: 6
Armor: 0
STR: 16
DEX: 7
WIL: 14
Equipment (5)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Trick Playing Cards
Fancy Hat (petty)
Cane Sword (d6)
Miracle Oil (2 uses)
Letter (petty)
Gold: 17
Special
Cart (4
slots)
Bonds
Letter: During your travels, you met a dying hunter who asked you to deliver a message to their loved ones. Take a Letter (petty), sealed with tree sap. It is addressed only to the Lord Of Winter.
Omens
The songbirds of the Wood have fallen eerily silent as of late. Hunters claim that a spectral figure has been spotted wandering the forest, gazing longingly at anyone it encounters.
Your Past
How was your fraud exposed?
You were cursed by a hedgewitch for fooling some innocent village folk. Magic acts unpredictably in your hands (WIL save to avoid disaster). If you are the target of magic, the same applies to its wielder.
What keepsake could always identify you?
Miracle Oil: A smelly, slippery concoction. 2 uses.