You are a shepherd to the departed. You listen to the final whispers of the dead as they descend into the cold, unyielding earth. You know that to fully celebrate the gift of life, we must honor its finale as well.
You have a Scrawny Physique,
Tattooed Skin,
and Luxurious
Hair. Your Face is
Rakish, your
Speech Booming. You have
Livery Clothing. You are
Courageous and
Vain.
Your age: 39.
π Attributes
HP: 6
Armor: 0
STR: 10
DEX: 6
WIL: 14
π Equipment (8)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Lantern
Oil Can (6 uses)
Stake (d6)
Chains (10ft)
Blood Pail (bulky)
Sponge
Gold: 12
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
Swarming pests gnaw away at the edges of dreams, and farmers speak of a loud buzzing sound emanating from deep within the Wood. They also say that the sound is getting closer.
π Your Past
What did you take from the dead?
A Blood Pail (bulky) from a local death-cult. Empty it to raise a servant built from whatever is buried below, with 6 HP, 1 Armor, 13 STR, 11 DEX, 4 WIL, and shard fists (d8+d8). Only one servant can be raised at a time. If destroyed, you permanently lose 1d4 STR. Recharge: Fill with the blood of a dying warrior.
What tool was invaluable in your work?
Sponge. Supposedly made from the remains of a rare sea creature. It never seems to dry out.