Cato is, at first glance, a simple barkeep with a gruff but not unkind demeanor. He radiates an aura of quiet calm as he walks. He is polite in speech and neighborly in manner.
All this belies the unquenched fire that rages in his heart.
Cato was born into the prestigious Archimboli family, one of the many noble families of Cheliax. Although they openly proclaimed their affection for Asmodeus, they quietly worshipped Desna, and made the mistake of informing a close family friend. In a political power grab, the "friend" turned the information over to the empire, and the family was stripped of their nobility, and in the case of Cato's mother and father, their lives. In an act of mercy, Cato's life was spared, but he was relegated to a life of slavery. At the age of seven, Cato's life changed from one of simple luxury to one of unending labor.
Yet, even in the bleakness of his new life, the boy held on to a glimmer of hope: the Dies Irae. Four times every year, the empire held a death tournament which slaves could enter; the prize was freedom. For ten years, Cato labored away, voluntarily taking on the most grueling tasks to train his body for the arena. At the age of seventeen, Cato finally participated in the tournament. The matches were fierce, but in each round, when it seemed as if Cato was going to lose his life, some small act of luck won him the match. An opponent tripped upon a small pebble trying to deliver the killing blow, or else a small insect flew into the open mouth of his would-be killer, granting Cato enough time to end his opponent's life. It was as if all the luck that had been deprived Cato throughout his life was saved for those few moments. The young man went on to win the Winter Solstice Dies Irae, earning his freedom, a plot of land near Westcrown, and the title of baronet. He planned to build a small farm and earn his money by selling crops.
Once again, misfortune struck Cato. The shadow beasts ravaged his farmland, and hellknights demanded outrageous tolls for their protection. In a matter of years, Cato found himself broke, and was forced to sell his title in order to eat. With the money left over from the sale, Cato purchased a modest tavern in Westcrown (named The Lucky Devil), which he has run for a good number of years. He has watched the slow decline of the city, and wishes to change it for the better, but lacks the means to do so. At the age of 49, he cares less for his own life, and more for the lives of those to come - for the future. He has come to despise the current way of things, and is growing frustrated with his own powerlessness.
And so his fire rages on, silent, unseen, and ever-growing.
