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 Athletic Physique,
Oily Skin,
and Braided
Hair. Your Face is
Broken, your
Speech Stuttering. You have
Bloody Clothing. You are
Merciful and
Deceitful.
Your age: 17.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 5
Armor: 0
STR: 14
DEX: 3
WIL: 11
🙛 Equipment (7)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Lantern
Oil Can (6 uses)
Needle-Knife (d6)
Protective Gloves (petty)
Universal Solvent (2 uses)
Homunculus
Miniature Lute
Gold: 17
🙛 Bonds
Miniature Lute: An entertainer once visited your home, filling it with story and song. He left one day without a word, leaving behind only A Miniature Lute. Something rattles inside.
🙛 Omens
Folks say that a faint laughter can be heard echoing out of wells all over the city. At night, they say the echoes change to sobs.
🙛 Your Past
What went horribly wrong?
Ridiculed for discovering how to turn gold into lead, you were a laughing stock. Take a bottle of Universal Solvent that dissolves anything it touches into its constituent parts.
What alchemical marvel is the product of your latest ingenuity?
Homunculus: A miniature clay replica of yourself that follows your every command. It hates being enthralled to you and complains bitterly whenever possible. Any damage done to the homunculus is also done to you. 3 HP, 4 STR, 13 DEX, 5 WIL.