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 Stout Physique,
Weathered Skin,
and Bald
Hair. Your Face is
Chiseled, your
Speech Droning. You have
Frayed Clothing. You are
Serene and
Vengeful.
Your age: 42.
π Attributes
HP: 2
Armor: 0
STR: 7
DEX: 16
WIL: 11
π Equipment (8)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Lantern
Oil Can (6 uses)
Stake (d6)
Chains (10ft)
Blood Pail (bulky)
Incense
Gold: 10
π Bonds
One of your ancestors wronged a Moss Witch, who cursed their bloodline. Your visage causes mirrors to shatter. Youβve noticed that the shards can sometimes reveal illusions.
π Omens
There is a village known far and wide for its impressive 'mother tree', said to shelter the townβs secrets in its boughs. Recently, it has begun bleeding red sap, worrying the elders.
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?
Incense. Perfect for rituals or to keep the flies at bay. Cools the blood.