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 Lanky Physique,
Soft Skin,
and Bald
Hair. Your Face is
Square, your
Speech Precise. You have
Antique Clothing. You are
Courageous and
Lazy.
Your age: 34.
🙛 Attributes
HP: 5
Armor: 0
STR: 14
DEX: 3
WIL: 5
🙛 Equipment (7)
Items:
Rations (3 uses)
Lantern
Oil Can (6 uses)
Needle-Knife (d6)
Protective Gloves (petty)
Universal Solvent (2 uses)
Blast Sphere (d12, blast, bulky, 1 uses)
Gold: 4
🙛 Bonds
One of your ancestors wronged a Moss Witch, who cursed their bloodline. Your visage causes mirrors to shatter. You’ve noticed that the shards can sometimes reveal illusions.
🙛 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 went horribly wrong?
Ridiculed for discovering how to turn gold into lead, you were a laughing stock. Take a bottle of Universal Solvent that dissolves anything it touches into its constituent parts.
What alchemical marvel is the product of your latest ingenuity?
Blast Sphere: A head-sized iron ball filled with explosive powder that detonates on impact.