You are known by the smell of molten metal and the jingle of tin. You are no mere merchant but an artisan of fire and metal.
You have a Lanky Physique,
Marked Skin,
and Filthy
Hair. Your Face is
Rakish, your
Speech Precise. You have
Antique Clothing. You are
Humble and
Rude.
Your age: 28.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 1
Armor: 1
STR: 16
DEX: 11
WIL: 10
🙛 Equipment (8)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Pincers
Roll of Tin
Gloves (petty)
Hammer (d6)
Spyglass
Necklace (petty)
Scroll (Mirrorwalk) (petty)
Fireworks (2 uses)
Stone Heart (1 Armor)
Gold: 13
🙛 Bonds
Stone Heart: You crossed a creature of the Wood, and it cursed you with a Stone Heart (1 Armor). With each passing month, the stone grows heavier by one slot. Until your debt is lifted, you cannot truly die.
🙛 Omens
Statues have been weeping blood for months on end, and the wombs of the village have lain barren since they began to fall. A single child has been the only exception, taken by elders overcome with fear and dread.
🙛 Your Past
What is your trade?
You sell rare and quality items to monasteries and nobles alike. Take a Spyglass, a Necklace (petty) worth 20gp, and a Scroll of Mirrorwalk (petty).
What never fails to get you out of trouble?
Fireworks: A dazzling albeit dangerous display. Enough explosive material to blow off a finger or three. 2 uses remain.