You are a specter in the night, a fleeting shadow that slips by its prey, unseen. Each kill is a test of cunning and animal determination, a contest between life and death. You know that one day you will lose. You look forward to it.
You have a Scrawny Physique,
Webbed Skin,
and Wispy
Hair. Your Face is
Pale, your
Speech Blunt. You have
Foreign Clothing. You are
Honorable and
Craven.
Your age: 40.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 1
Armor: 1
STR: 9
DEX: 8
WIL: 17
🙛 Equipment (7)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Tarp
Boiled Leather (1 Armor)
Short Sword (d6)
Spring-Loaded Trap
Tooth (petty)
Iron Rattle
Twig (petty)
Gold: 14
🙛 Bonds
Twig: A white crow appeared to you in a dream, holding a twig in its mouth. You awoke the next morning with The Twig (petty) in your hand. You believe it brings you luck. It smells faintly of sulfur.
🙛 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
What did you last hunt?
A silver marsh crawler that killed someone close to you. You now carry its Tooth (petty) on a chain around your neck as a warning to others of its kind. The tooth hums softly when something is stalking you.
What tool is always in your pack?
Iron Rattle: A noisemaker for distracting or scaring your quarry. Sounds convincingly like a snake.