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 Towering Physique,
Tanned Skin,
and Wavy
Hair. Your Face is
Pale, your
Speech Formal. You have
Soiled Clothing. You are
Tolerant and
Rude.
Your age: 48.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 6
Armor: 0
STR: 13
DEX: 11
WIL: 4
🙛 Equipment (6)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Bonesaw (d6)
Bandages (3 uses)
Leech (3 uses)
Stained medical finery (petty)
Regrowth Salve (1 uses)
Locket (petty)
Gold: 6
🙛 Bonds
Locket: You carry a Portrait in a locket (petty) of a past love who disappeared into the Wood long ago. Somehow, you know that they are still alive.
🙛 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.
🙛 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?
Regrowth Salve: Regrows a body part over the course of a day. 1 use.