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 Short Physique,
Birthmarked Skin,
and Wavy
Hair. Your Face is
Perfect, your
Speech Precise. You have
Filthy Clothing. You are
Tolerant and
Vain.
Your age: 49.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 1
Armor: 0
STR: 15
DEX: 7
WIL: 18
🙛 Equipment (7)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Bonesaw (d6)
Bandages (3 uses)
Leech (3 uses)
Stained medical finery (petty)
Quicksilver (4 uses)
Ornate Compass
Gold: 23
🙛 Bonds
Ornate Compass: A distant cousin left you a small inheritance. Take 20gp, and a strange Compass that always points towards something deep in the Wood.
🙛 Omens
The night sky grows dimmer each evening, as if stars are disappearing one by one. Rumors of hellish creatures capturing farmers and pulling them into the Roots are spreading like wildfire. Village elders believe the two are connected.
🙛 Your Past
How have you 'improved' yourself?
You have a replacement eye that can magnify objects, act as a telescope, and provide minimal night vision. You cannot wear anything metal on your head, and the presence of strong magnets make you deprived.
What rare tool is essential to your work?
Quicksilver: A stimulant. Go first in combat, and automatically pass any WIL saves for one hour. Addictive: Save STR or become deprived after 24 hours without it. 4 uses.