You are known by the smell of molten metal and the jingle of tin. You are no mere merchant but an artisan of fire and metal.
You have a Flabby Physique,
Marked Skin,
and Curly
Hair. Your Face is
Pale, your
Speech Blunt. You have
Rancid Clothing. You are
Merciful and
Bitter.
Your age: 21.
π Attributes
HP: 4
Armor: 0
STR: 6
DEX: 3
WIL: 16
π Equipment (6)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Pincers
Roll of Tin
Gloves (petty)
Hammer (d6)
Tinker's Paste (3 uses)
Whistle (petty)
Gold: 18
π Bonds
Whistle: You carved a Whistle (petty) from an Oak Lordβs branch. Your act did not go unnoticed. You cannot seem to rid yourself of the whistle either.
π Omens
The moon turns a deep crimson, bathing the night in an eerie, blood-red light. Some say it heralds a time of chaos and strife, as the boundaries between the Wood and the mortal realm grow thin.
π Your Past
What is your trade?
You build small contraptions for local guilds (and don't ask too many questions). Take an extra 40gp and a wanted poster with your face on it. Given time and materials, you can open almost any door or vault.
What never fails to get you out of trouble?
Tinker's Paste: Seals shut any fist-sized opening. 3 uses.