┌NAME──────────────────────────────────┬────────────────────┐ │ Thunder │ │ ├BACKGROUND────────────────────────────┤ │ │ Fletchwind │ │ ├ABILITIES┬─────────┬─────────┬────────┤ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ 6 │ 8 │ 12 │ HP: 5 │ │ ├─────────┴┬───┬────┴──┬───┬──┴───┬────┤ │ │ DEPRIVED │ │ ARMOR │ │ GOLD │ 11 │ │ └──────────┴───┴───────┴───┴──────┴────┴────────────────────┘ ┌TRAITS────────────────┬─────────────────────────┬──────────┐ │ Physique: Athletic │ Speech: Droning │ Age: 30 │ │ Skin: Marked │ Clothing: Frayed ├──────────┤ │ Hair: Frizzy │ Virtue: Cautious │ │ │ Face: Pale │ Vice: Rude │ │ ├BONDS─────────────────┴─────────────────────────┴──────────┤ │ You promised a childhood friend that you’d bring them │ │ back a rare gift, something unique in all the world. Take │ │ a Bracelet (petty) woven from twine and wildflowers. │ │ │ │ │ ├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. │ │ │ └───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘ You strike from afar, but that does not make you a coward. You are a musician, the song of your bowstring nought but a warning, singing the silent promise of a quick death. ───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── How did you earn your bow? War. If you are first to attack, your bow gains the blast property for the first round. What kind of wood is your bow made from? Sessile Oak (d8, bulky). Slams into targets. On Critical Damage something is torn off. ───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── Serrated knife (d6), Boiled leather (1 Armor), Wooden sight (petty), Heartroot Salve (recover 1d4 STR)