You are an artisan of the arcane, a smith of subtle forces. In the crucible of your workshop, the laws that govern this world are warped to suit your needs.
You have a Flabby Physique,
Oily Skin,
and Braided
Hair. Your Face is
Bony, your
Speech Droning. You have
Filthy Clothing. You are
Merciful and
Deceitful.
Your age: 44.
Attributes
HP: 4
Armor: 0
STR: 5
DEX: 7
WIL: 14
Equipment (7)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Lantern
Oil Can (6 uses)
Needle-Knife (d6)
Protective Gloves (petty)
Blunderbuss (d12, blast, bulky)
Pyrophoric Gel
Gold: 12
Bonds
You found a wounded beast in the forest, but chose to ignore it. You see it everywhere now, but only when you’re alone. It looks sad, but not angry. You cannot become panicked when acting alone.
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 went horribly wrong?
Your alchemical recipe worked, but a rival stole the blueprint before your claims could be proven. Take a prototype Blunderbuss that takes one round to reload, and a thirst for revenge.
What alchemical marvel is the product of your latest ingenuity?
Pyrophoric Gel: A sticky green fluid that catches fire when exposed to air. It lasts for 8 hours and cannot be extinguished.