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 Athletic Physique,
Tanned Skin,
and Wispy
Hair. Your Face is
Sharp, your
Speech Gravelly. You have
Frayed Clothing. You are
Disciplined and
Nervous.
Your age: 30.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 3
Armor: 0
STR: 18
DEX: 15
WIL: 13
🙛 Equipment (9)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Lantern
Oil Can (6 uses)
Needle-Knife (d6)
Protective Gloves (petty)
Metal Ingot
Gold Powder (3 uses)
Blast Sphere (d12, blast, bulky, 1 uses)
Single Gem
Gold: 11
🙛 Bonds
Single Gem: You inherited a Single Gem (500gp, cold and brittle) from a long-dead relative. It arrived with a warning: squander your newfound riches, and a debt long thought forgotten would be called.
🙛 Omens
Border towns have become riotous in recent weeks, after multiple claims of a red-robed figure appearing in their children's dreams, uttering the same warning: A fire is coming, and it will consume them all.
🙛 Your Past
What went horribly wrong?
You were adept at creating fake gold, which is almost as good. Eventually, your ruse was discovered, and you had to make a hasty retreat. Take a heavy Metal Ingot and Gold Powder.
What alchemical marvel is the product of your latest ingenuity?
Blast Sphere: A head-sized iron ball filled with explosive powder that detonates on impact.