You are a mere digit on the unerring hand of justice. You go where others fear to tread, unyielding and unbroken.
You have a Athletic Physique,
Tattooed Skin,
and Long
Hair. Your Face is
Elongated, your
Speech Formal. You have
Foreign Clothing. You are
Merciful and
Greedy.
Your age: 45.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 2
Armor: 2
STR: 11
DEX: 14
WIL: 15
🙛 Equipment (9)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Vestments of the Order (petty)
Blessed Tinctures
Silver Knife (d6)
Crossbow (d8, bulky)
Short sword (d8)
Chainmail (2 Armor, bulky)
Letter (petty)
Gold: 9
🙛 Bonds
Letter: You received a Letter (petty) detailing incontrovertible proof that your true parentage is that of Fae nobility. The note also indicates a date and location where you are to meet them, deep in the the Wood.
🙛 Omens
Swarms of insects are fleeing from the Wood in droves, destroying any wooden structures they come across. The sound of their wings hum a familiar tune as they pass overhead, like a forgotten nursery rhyme.
🙛 Your Past
To which order do you belong?
Order of the Glass Sigil. Take a short sword (d8) and chainmail (2 Armor, bulky). You have contacts in most towns (the more rural, the better) willing to provide aid, food, or even weapons.
What was your vow?
Charity. Once per day, you can shrug off a Fatigue. If your vow is ever broken, you permanently lose one inventory slot.