┌NAME──────────────────────────────────┬────────────────────┐ │ Steeleye │ │ ├BACKGROUND────────────────────────────┤ │ │ Foundling │ │ ├ABILITIES┬─────────┬─────────┬────────┤ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ 7 │ 10 │ 7 │ HP: 6 │ │ ├─────────┴┬───┬────┴──┬───┬──┴───┬────┤ │ │ DEPRIVED │ │ ARMOR │ │ GOLD │ 12 │ │ └──────────┴───┴───────┴───┴──────┴────┴────────────────────┘ ┌TRAITS────────────────┬─────────────────────────┬──────────┐ │ Physique: Lanky │ Speech: Droning │ Age: 36 │ │ Skin: Soft │ Clothing: Livery ├──────────┤ │ Hair: Wavy │ Virtue: Ambitious │ │ │ Face: Sharp │ 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──────────────────────────────────────────────────────┤ │ A thick, unnatural fog has begun encroaching upon an │ │ ancient and holy grove. It is said to be the work of a │ │ great forest spirit, angered by nearby deforestation. │ │ │ │ │ └───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘ An odd birthmark, a strange smell: somehow, the touch of elsewhere still lingers. You’ll never fit in, at least not where you’re at. Roll on the Omens table, but keep the results private for now. ───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── Who took you in? A gruff blacksmith from a sleepy river town. You were always kept at arm’s length. Now the forge is cold, and you’ve moved on. Take a Smith’s Hammer (d6) and a set of Oft-mended Chain Mail (2 Armor, bulky). What keeps away bad tidings? Ivy Worm A green worm often mistaken for a weed. Swallowed whole, it absorbs any toxins or rot in the body before exiting through the usual way. ───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────── Salt pouch, Heirloom amulet (petty, glows in the presence of magic), Sling (d6), Dagger (d6)