You walk the line between healer and harrower, knowing the frailty of the flesh but also the secrets that lie within. With the right tools, life and death are merely words.
You have a Flabby Physique,
Webbed Skin,
and Filthy
Hair. Your Face is
Elongated, your
Speech Precise. You have
Soiled Clothing. You are
Merciful and
Greedy.
Your age: 31.
π Attributes
HP: 3
Armor: 0
STR: 15
DEX: 5
WIL: 17
π Equipment (6)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Bonesaw (d6)
Bandages (3 uses)
Leech (3 uses)
Stained medical finery (petty)
Hook & Screwdriver (petty)
Graftgrub (1 uses)
Gold: 15
π Bonds
You found a wounded beast in the forest, but chose to ignore it. You see it everywhere now, but only when youβre alone. It looks sad, but not angry. You cannot become panicked when acting alone.
π Omens
A thick, unnatural fog has begun encroaching upon an ancient and holy grove. It is said to be the work of a great forest spirit, angered by nearby deforestation.
π Your Past
How have you 'improved' yourself?
One of your fingers has been swapped, the bone replaced by gold and iron. Take a Hook and a Screwdriver that can attach to the fingertip.
What rare tool is essential to your work?
Graftgrub: A small worm that can fuse inanimate objects with parts of the body. 1 use.