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 Athletic Physique,
Tanned Skin,
and Wavy
Hair. Your Face is
Chiseled, your
Speech Formal. You have
Elegant Clothing. You are
Serene and
Vain.
Your age: 37.
π Attributes
HP: 6
Armor: 0
STR: 9
DEX: 13
WIL: 18
π Equipment (10)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Pincers
Roll of Tin
Gloves (petty)
Hammer (d6)
Crossbow (d8, bulky)
Saw (d6)
Fireworks (2 uses)
Journal
Gold: 16
π Special
Donkey (4
slots)
π Bonds
Journal: You inherited an old Journal, bound in bark. Each evening, its pages are filled with the events of the day, crassly from the journalβs perspective. The writing is crude, but accurate.
π Omens
Swarms of insects are fleeing from the Wood in droves, destroying any wooden structures they come across. The sound of their wings hum a familiar tune as they pass overhead, like a forgotten nursery rhyme.
π Your Past
What is your trade?
You scavenge raw tin and iron from battlefields, pulling teeth from still-twitching corpses. Start with a young Donkey (+4 slots, slow), a Crossbow (d8 damage, bulky), and a Saw (d6).
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.