Your character must have a background. Either roll a d66 and pick the corresponding background for your character, or pick one at your own discretion.
Though Penar's word and Kenomite literature have taken over all the Panae, there are still those who follow the older teachings. In ages past, astrologers could be found in the court of every great king and among all the learned institutions of the Panae. They were held in the highest esteem and their order was of the highest standard. Their guidance and counsel was taken in all grave matters. Things have changed a lot since then. YOU probably won't be finding yourself in any royal courts, unless, maybe, as parlour entertainment. The once proud tradition of astrology is now peddled to cramped stalls in Mivolkan alleys and huts in the most provincial of Varnockan villages. None of this is to say that the teachings are wrong, however. You believe entirely that the macrocosm reflects the microcosm and that by careful observation you can align yourself with the world spirit and divine the mysteries of the cosmos.
Each night you may consult the stars to answer any question you might have. Whatever answer you divine, you will be absolutely convinced of it, no matter what. If it turns out not to come true, you will chalk it up to your own personal error.
You are so, so, so much better than everyone else. Not only were you born in Fleath, the greatest, most developed, most powerful Kingdom in the Panae, which already makes you better than everyone else, you are a questor, which makes you better than every other Fleathen as well. You have been entrusted by the King of Fleath himself, whose line has ruled the never-conquered (except by King Penar but obviously that fucker conquered everything and it was a fluke anyway) island of Fleath since time immemorial, to quest on the mainland and spread and/or enhance the glory of Fleath. To this end you are robed in the finest Fleathen finery and equipped with finest Fleathen equipment. Along your travels you will probably meet many people who are elated to meet a Fleathen in the flesh and perhaps just a few who might be jealous of the glory of Fleath.
Roll a d6 to determine the nature of your Fleathen Quest.
The Green Islands are a collection of islands in the Green Gulf, Northwest of the Mivolk and Southwest of Inniclan. The many Islander clans have spent ages there undisturbed, mostly on account of how profoundly worthless the Green Islands are. They're mercilessly cold, scarce in all natural resources, and rife with dire wolves, fell bears, and shriek whales. Despite being nigh-inhospitable, you seem to enjoy it, though. Your people have perfectly adapted to the islands, withstanding the elements and making use of every resource your surroundings can provide. This adaptation means that very few Islanders die from cold, animals, or the ocean, but you guys still manage to die in droves because of constant, honour-driven blood-feuds that are as inexplicable as they are horrific. What makes this stark, brutal lifestyle even more bizarre is how readily islanders adapt to societal change. Most Islanders will keep clocks, compasses, and contemporary novels in the same house where they eat raw shark that they had fermented in a hole for six months. As a consequence of their isolation
You are immune to cold. Remaining submerged in ice water for hours at a time is no trouble for you. In any kind of hot weather, however, your strength is reduced by a third.