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 Towering Physique,
Oily Skin,
and Filthy
Hair. Your Face is
Elongated, your
Speech Stuttering. You have
Rancid Clothing. You are
Tolerant and
Deceitful.
Your age: 34.
π Attributes
HP: 2
Armor: 0
STR: 10
DEX: 13
WIL: 9
π Equipment (6)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Lantern
Oil Can (6 uses)
Needle-Knife (d6)
Protective Gloves (petty)
Aqua Vita (1 uses)
Ornate Compass
Gold: 37
π Bonds
Ornate Compass: A distant cousin left you a small inheritance. Take 20gp, and a strange Compass that always points towards something deep in the Wood.
π Omens
There is a village known far and wide for its impressive 'mother tree', said to shelter the townβs secrets in its boughs. Recently, it has begun bleeding red sap, worrying the elders.
π Your Past
What went horribly wrong?
You were exposed to a long-acting truth serum whose effects have yet to wear off. The disorder has its advantages: you cannot repeat lies you've heard, either.
What alchemical marvel is the product of your latest ingenuity?
Aqua Vita: Purifies any liquid, converting it to pure water. Drinking it cures 1d6 STR.