Wits are your sharpest weapon, a facade your strongest shield. But when you do lose, you lose badly.
You have a Short Physique,
Oily Skin,
and Bald
Hair. Your Face is
Rakish, your
Speech Cryptic. You have
Frayed Clothing. You are
Gregarious and
Aggressive.
Your age: 31.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 6
Armor: 0
STR: 15
DEX: 18
WIL: 17
🙛 Equipment (6)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Trick Playing Cards
Fancy Hat (petty)
Cane Sword (d6)
Bandages (3 uses)
Miracle Oil (2 uses)
Bracelet (petty)
Gold: 17
🙛 Special
Cart (4
slots)
🙛 Bonds
Bracelet: You promised a childhood friend that you’d bring them back a rare gift, something unique in all the world. Take a Bracelet (petty) woven from twine and wildflowers.
🙛 Omens
The moon turns a deep crimson, bathing the night in an eerie, blood-red light. Some say it heralds a time of chaos and strife, as the boundaries between the Wood and the mortal realm grow thin.
🙛 Your Past
How was your fraud exposed?
Your 'patients' kept reporting miraculous recoveries, despite your lack of training. Start with Bandages (3 uses) and a knack for healing.
What keepsake could always identify you?
Miracle Oil: A smelly, slippery concoction. 2 uses.