You walk the line between healer and harrower, knowing the frailty of the flesh but also the secrets that lie within. With the right tools, life and death are merely words.
You have a Statuesque Physique,
Rosy Skin,
and Luxurious
Hair. Your Face is
Rakish, your
Speech Blunt. You have
Filthy Clothing. You are
Serene and
Deceitful.
Your age: 42.
π Attributes
HP: 4
Armor: 0
STR: 3
DEX: 15
WIL: 13
π Equipment (8)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Bonesaw (d6)
Bandages (3 uses)
Leech (3 uses)
Stained medical finery (petty)
Pneuma Pump (bulky)
Journal
Gold: 16
π Bonds
Journal: You inherited an old Journal, bound in bark. Each evening, its pages are filled with the events of the day, crassly from the journalβs perspective. The writing is crude, but accurate.
π Omens
Hunters talk of a curse that befalls any who kill a beast with a streak of white fur: soon after, they are found dead in their homes. Each day, there are fewer and fewer creatures to hunt.
π Your Past
How have you 'improved' yourself?
Both ears have been surgically enhanced, tripling your hearing. You can focus on a specific sound, such as a conversation, at a great distance. You wear an ear flap to protect against sudden loud noises (WIL save to avoid temporary paralysis).
What rare tool is essential to your work?
Pneuma Pump: Portable iron lungs (bulky). Enables life-saving surgery or underwater breathing.