You are a mere digit on the unerring hand of justice. You go where others fear to tread, unyielding and unbroken.
You have a Towering Physique,
Tattooed Skin,
and Braided
Hair. Your Face is
Broken, your
Speech Squeaky. You have
Frayed Clothing. You are
Merciful and
Greedy.
Your age: 40.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 4
Armor: 0
STR: 10
DEX: 17
WIL: 14
🙛 Equipment (8)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Torch (3 uses)
Vestments of the Order (petty)
Blessed Tinctures
Silver Knife (d6)
Crossbow (d8, bulky)
Star-Iron Mace (d8)
Mischievous Spirit
Gold: 8
🙛 Bonds
Mischievous Spirit: You consumed a Mischievous Spirit that wreaks havoc on your insides, demanding to be taken home, deep in the Wood. It occupies one slot but absorbs one Fatigue each day. It wants you alive (for now).
🙛 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
To which order do you belong?
Order of the Bleeding Star. Take a Star-Iron Mace (d8). It shines faintly in darkness and becomes very hot in the presence of witchcraft.
What was your vow?
Valor. The first time you inflict Critical Damage, you receive +d4 HP, returning to the previous limit at the end of combat. If your vow is broken, you die.