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 Athletic Physique,
Soft Skin,
and Wispy
Hair. Your Face is
Rakish, your
Speech Cryptic. You have
Foreign Clothing. You are
Tolerant and
Nervous.
Your age: 33.
Attributes
HP: 5
Armor: 0
STR: 7
DEX: 5
WIL: 16
Equipment (7)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Bonesaw (d6)
Bandages (3 uses)
Leech (3 uses)
Stained medical finery (petty)
Pneuma Pump (bulky)
Letter (petty)
Gold: 11
Bonds
Letter: During your travels, you met a dying hunter who asked you to deliver a message to their loved ones. Take a Letter (petty), sealed with tree sap. It is addressed only to the Lord Of Winter.
Omens
It feels like winter has arrived too quickly this year, frost and snows making their appearance much earlier than expected. There is talk of a pattern to the frost found in windows, ponds, and cracks in the ground. It almost looks like a map.
Your Past
How have you 'improved' yourself?
Both ears have been surgically enhanced, tripling your hearing. You can focus on a specific sound, such as a conversation, at a great distance. You wear an ear flap to protect against sudden loud noises (WIL save to avoid temporary paralysis).
What rare tool is essential to your work?
Pneuma Pump: Portable iron lungs (bulky). Enables life-saving surgery or underwater breathing.