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 Scrawny Physique,
Webbed Skin,
and Oily
Hair. Your Face is
Broken, your
Speech Booming. You have
Filthy Clothing. You are
Merciful and
Greedy.
Your age: 44.
π Attributes
HP: 2
Armor: 0
STR: 9
DEX: 18
WIL: 12
π Equipment (6)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Lantern
Oil Can (6 uses)
Needle-Knife (d6)
Protective Gloves (petty)
Tin of Snuff (6 uses)
Pyrophoric Gel
Gold: 17
π Bonds
You found a wounded beast in the forest, but chose to ignore it. You see it everywhere now, but only when youβre alone. It looks sad, but not angry. You cannot become panicked when acting alone.
π Omens
The constellations have slowly started shifting in the night sky, forming unfamiliar patterns that have stargazers and sages perplexed. Even the animals seem disturbed.
π Your Past
What went horribly wrong?
There was an explosion, and you lost your sense of smell. Well, almost: you can sniff out gold as a pig does truffles. Take a Tin of Snuff to dampen the impact. Use it every day or become deprived.
What alchemical marvel is the product of your latest ingenuity?
Pyrophoric Gel: A sticky green fluid that catches fire when exposed to air. It lasts for 8 hours and cannot be extinguished.