You are a shepherd to the departed. You listen to the final whispers of the dead as they descend into the cold, unyielding earth. You know that to fully celebrate the gift of life, we must honor its finale as well.
You have a Brawny Physique,
Weathered Skin,
and Wavy
Hair. Your Face is
Rakish, your
Speech Booming. You have
Frumpy Clothing. You are
Disciplined and
Craven.
Your age: 39.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 5
Armor: 0
STR: 10
DEX: 7
WIL: 4
🙛 Equipment (7)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Lantern
Oil Can (6 uses)
Stake (d6)
Chains (10ft)
Spellbook (Detect Magic)
Pulley
Silver Moss (petty)
Gold: 14
🙛 Bonds
Silver Moss: You once freed a Naiad from a choked stream. In return, it gave you some Silver Moss (petty). Swallow it near water and the creature will come, once, to repay its debt.
🙛 Omens
Statues have been weeping blood for months on end, and the wombs of the village have lain barren since they began to fall. A single child has been the only exception, taken by elders overcome with fear and dread.
🙛 Your Past
What did you take from the dead?
The Detect Magic spellbook, stolen from an ancient library. Your family worked in service to an obscure underworld deity, but you lost your faith. Though exiled, you continue to serve, even as an apostate.
What tool was invaluable in your work?
Pulley. Great for moving gravestones, rocks, or even bodies.