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 Lanky Physique,
Tattooed Skin,
and Curly
Hair. Your Face is
Broken, your
Speech Blunt. You have
Filthy Clothing. You are
Tolerant and
Greedy.
Your age: 26.
π Attributes
HP: 1
Armor: 2
STR: 13
DEX: 4
WIL: 17
π Equipment (7)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Serrated Knife (d6)
Boiled Leather (1 Armor)
Heartroot Salve (1 uses)
White Ash (+1 Armor, d6, bulky)
Twig (petty)
Gold: 12
π Bonds
Twig: A white crow appeared to you in a dream, holding a twig in its mouth. You awoke the next morning with The Twig (petty) in your hand. You believe it brings you luck. It smells faintly of sulfur.
π Omens
There is a village known far and wide for its impressive 'mother tree', said to shelter the townβs secrets in its boughs. Recently, it has begun bleeding red sap, worrying the elders.
π Your Past
How did you earn your bow?
War. If you are first to attack, your bow gains the blast property for the first round.
What kind of wood is your bow made from?
White Ash (d6, bulky). Can be used in place of a shield in melee combat (+1 Armor).