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 Lanky Physique,
Oily Skin,
and Filthy
Hair. Your Face is
Bony, your
Speech Formal. You have
Rancid Clothing. You are
Tolerant and
Rude.
Your age: 18.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 1
Armor: 1
STR: 17
DEX: 17
WIL: 10
🙛 Equipment (9)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Pincers
Roll of Tin
Gloves (petty)
Hammer (d6)
Long Sword (d10, bulky)
Gambeson (+1 Armor)
Tinker's Paste (3 uses)
Gold: 9
🙛 Bonds
One of your ancestors wronged a Moss Witch, who cursed their bloodline. Your visage causes mirrors to shatter. You’ve noticed that the shards can sometimes reveal illusions.
🙛 Omens
Hunters talk of a curse that befalls any who kill a beast with a streak of white fur: soon after, they are found dead in their homes. Each day, there are fewer and fewer creatures to hunt.
🙛 Your Past
What is your trade?
You offer protection as a service, quietly watching for threats as money exchanges hands. You start with +d4 HP, and carry a Long Sword (d10, bulky) and a Gambeson (+1 Armor).
What never fails to get you out of trouble?
Tinker's Paste: Seals shut any fist-sized opening. 3 uses.