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 Statuesque Physique,
Oily Skin,
and Wispy
Hair. Your Face is
Sunken, your
Speech Squeaky. You have
Filthy Clothing. You are
Disciplined and
Deceitful.
Your age: 27.
π Attributes
HP: 4
Armor: 1
STR: 7
DEX: 7
WIL: 18
π Equipment (6)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Lantern
Oil Can (6 uses)
Needle-Knife (d6)
Protective Gloves (petty)
Pyrophoric Gel
Stone Heart (1 Armor)
Gold: 15
π Bonds
Stone Heart: You crossed a creature of the Wood, and it cursed you with a Stone Heart (1 Armor). With each passing month, the stone grows heavier by one slot. Until your debt is lifted, you cannot truly die.
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 dematerialized a beloved pet. Now it follows you around, invisible but always present. Although it cannot interact with the physical realm, you are able to share its senses. (Add a Fatigue each time.) It follows basic commands.
What alchemical marvel is the product of your latest ingenuity?
Pyrophoric Gel: A sticky green fluid that catches fire when exposed to air. It lasts for 8 hours and cannot be extinguished.