┌NAME──────────────────────────────────┬────────────────────┐ │ Rook │ │ ├BACKGROUND────────────────────────────┤ │ │ Bonekeeper │ │ ├ABILITIES┬─────────┬─────────┬────────┤ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ 10 │ 12 │ 17 │ HP: 3 │ │ ├─────────┴┬───┬────┴──┬───┬──┴───┬────┤ │ │ DEPRIVED │ │ ARMOR │ │ GOLD │ 8 │ │ └──────────┴───┴───────┴───┴──────┴────┴────────────────────┘ ┌TRAITS────────────────┬─────────────────────────┬──────────┐ │ Physique: Brawny │ Speech: Whispery │ Age: 35 │ │ Skin: Webbed │ Clothing: Frumpy ├──────────┤ │ Hair: Frizzy │ Virtue: Humble │ │ │ Face: Elongated │ Vice: Vain │ │ ├BONDS─────────────────┴─────────────────────────┴──────────┤ │ You inherited an old Journal, bound in bark. Each │ │ evening, its pages are filled with the events of the day, │ │ crassly from the journal’s perspective. The writing is │ │ crude, but accurate. │ │ │ ├OMENS──────────────────────────────────────────────────────┤ │ There is a village known far and wide for its impressive │ │ “mother tree”, said to shelter the town’s secrets │ │ in its boughs. Recently, it has begun bleeding red sap, │ │ worrying the elders. │ │ │ └───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘ 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. ───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── What did you take from the dead? A mortal wound from a freed revenant. You were healed, but the disfigurement has made you a pariah. You require neither air nor sustenance, but are still subject to pain and death. Trapped between, the dead see you as one of their own. What tool was invaluable in your work? Manacles: Though old, it’s still effective even against the very strong. You don’t have the key. ───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── Lantern, Oil can (6 uses), Stake (d6), Chains (10ft)