You are a shepherd to the departed. You listen to the final whispers of the dead as they descend into the cold, unyielding earth. You know that to fully celebrate the gift of life, we must honor its finale as well.
You have a Brawny Physique,
Marked Skin,
and Luxurious
Hair. Your Face is
Elongated, your
Speech Squeaky. You have
Frayed Clothing. You are
Honorable and
Nervous.
Your age: 21.
Attributes
HP: 5
Armor: 0
STR: 17
DEX: 15
WIL: 12
Equipment (9)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Lantern
Oil Can (6 uses)
Stake (d6)
Chains (10ft)
Blood Pail (bulky)
Sponge
Single Gem
Gold: 8
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
There is a village known far and wide for its impressive 'mother tree', said to shelter the town’s secrets in its boughs. Recently, it has begun bleeding red sap, worrying the elders.
Your Past
What did you take from the dead?
A Blood Pail (bulky) from a local death-cult. Empty it to raise a servant built from whatever is buried below, with 6 HP, 1 Armor, 13 STR, 11 DEX, 4 WIL, and shard fists (d8+d8). Only one servant can be raised at a time. If destroyed, you permanently lose 1d4 STR. Recharge: Fill with the blood of a dying warrior.
What tool was invaluable in your work?
Sponge. Supposedly made from the remains of a rare sea creature. It never seems to dry out.