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,
Tanned Skin,
and Long
Hair. Your Face is
Chiseled, your
Speech Formal. You have
Frumpy Clothing. You are
Cautious and
Greedy.
Your age: 16.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 6
Armor: 0
STR: 18
DEX: 10
WIL: 16
🙛 Equipment (6)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Lantern
Oil Can (6 uses)
Needle-Knife (d6)
Protective Gloves (petty)
Blast Sphere (d12, blast, bulky, 1 uses)
Locket (petty)
Gold: 7
🙛 Bonds
Locket: You carry a Portrait in a locket (petty) of a past love who disappeared into the Wood long ago. Somehow, you know that they are still alive.
🙛 Omens
Swarms of insects are fleeing from the Wood in droves, destroying any wooden structures they come across. The sound of their wings hum a familiar tune as they pass overhead, like a forgotten nursery rhyme.
🙛 Your Past
What went horribly wrong?
You dematerialized a beloved pet. Now it follows you around, invisible but always present. Although it cannot interact with the physical realm, you are able to share its senses. (Add a Fatigue each time.) It follows basic commands.
What alchemical marvel is the product of your latest ingenuity?
Blast Sphere: A head-sized iron ball filled with explosive powder that detonates on impact.