You strike from afar, but that does not make you a coward. You are a musician, the song of your bowstring nought but a warning, singing the silent promise of a quick death.
You have a Stout Physique,
Webbed Skin,
and Luxurious
Hair. Your Face is
Elongated, your
Speech Squeaky. You have
Rancid Clothing. You are
Courageous and
Vain.
Your age: 32.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 1
Armor: 1
STR: 14
DEX: 9
WIL: 3
🙛 Equipment (7)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Serrated Knife (d6)
Boiled Leather (1 Armor)
Heartroot Salve (1 uses)
Sessile Oak (d8, bulky)
Blood-Red Flower (petty)
Gold: 9
🙛 Bonds
Blood-Red Flower: The Dawn Brigade did your family a service, giving you a dried Blood-Red Flower (petty) as proof. When the flower turns white, it means the favor is owed.
🙛 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.
🙛 Your Past
How did you earn your bow?
War. If you are first to attack, your bow gains the blast property for the first round.
What kind of wood is your bow made from?
Sessile Oak (d8, bulky). Slams into targets. On Critical Damage something is torn off.