Quentin Lovelace's page

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Quentin Lovelace
M NG Human Inquisitor, Level 1, Init +2, HP 8/8, Speed 30
AC 16, Touch 12, Flat-footed 14, Fort +2, Ref +2, Will +5, Base Attack Bonus +0
Rapier +2 (1d6)
Shortbow +2(1d6)
(+2 Dex)
Abilities Str 10, Dex 14, Con 10, Int 14, Wis 16, Cha 14

Born into a minor merchant family in Restov, Quentin and his two older brothers watched their father in the forge and minded the shop most of their youth. Aiden, the oldest, made his father proud by apprenticing to the older smith from a young age. Phillip, the middle, surprised no-one when he joined the local militia, the stocky, aggressive boy's constant fight-picking between his brothers turned toward a more useful purpose in a martial profession.
Quentin, though...never really seemed to have any definable interest that could be turned towards a good honest professions, much to his stern father's chagrin. He seemed more adept at finding ways to escape his tutor and slack off than anything else, shirking his duties as often as possible to slip away to the local "temple" of Caiden Caylean.
Not that Quentin was particularly devout, far from it. The "temple" - a festhall, really - simply was the most interesting place he could think of to be. The colorful dress of the revelers and exciting stories they would tell of exotic adventures seemed to be the main draw, and given the nature of the temples faithful, there was hardly ever a lack of them.
Fortunately, one of the friars there saw too it that the young rogue never got in -too- much trouble, even threatening the boy with a report to his parents if he felt a particular "adventure" with some of the other boys he met at the tavern would land the youngster in -too- much trouble.
Friar Nigel, as he was called, guided the boy's adventuresome spirit as best he could, but his father still didn't approve of his lack of focus. In his late teens, one particular bout of harsh words with his father ended with the observation by his father that, "for all the time you spend there, you'd think you were a friar yourself!"
Though it didn't seem much to Quentin at the time, the more he thought about it in the following days, the more spreading the folk wisdom of Cayden Caylean he'd learned over the years - all of which fit onto a single scroll, fortunately - didn't seem like such a bad idea. After all, wasn't that was friars did? Adventure, fight monsters, and meet women - all as a holy mission!
So it was that Quentin joined the church of Cayden Caylean as formally as is possible. Under the further tutelage of Friar Nigel and some of the cit's other brothers, he quickly found that the life of a cleric, even that of Cayden Caylean, wasn't as exciting as he thought it might be.
Quentin also wasn't the most faithful youngster at the "abbey," sometimes finding ways to shirk prayer time and other less glamorous duties when he could get away with it. Spending time goofing off, even though he had voluntarily dedicated himself to Cayden Caylean's service, seemed to persist into his apprenticeship. He seemed to always be one of most well-informed brothers in the abbey, spending as much time carousing with ne'er-do-wells as he did actually performing his duties.
Friar Nigel saw the boy's talents could be put to use in Cayden Caylean's service in ways that might suit him better - and so he was made one of the very, very few Inquisitors of the church of Cayden Caylean. When things needed finding out or something dangerous was rumored to be going on, Quentin was there to ferret it out. Mostly mundane dangers such as intrigues amongst the other churches or local guilds, but as his years in service grew, some church elders saw his quick mind suited for something darker - the recognition of the Demonic and its influence in society. Schooled as well as he could be about most things Infernal and other related studies, he has found himself in an interesting position, having received a Letter of Marque delivered to him by the Church of Cayden Cailean. Apparently the need of the Rostland nobility for those skilled at diplomacy, treachery, and arms meets quite neatly with the desire of the Church to root out cults of varying sorts in the Stolen Lands - which has until now been unfeasible. But with a group of equally skilled adventurers being sent south, the chance to establish the faith, root out heretics, and root the interests of the Church in the founding of a new kingdom is too great to pass up, and Quentin has been chosen for the task.

Quentin is a confident, gregarious sort more oft than not, quick with a smile and a joke and keenly aware of the force of his own presence. Following his own mish-mash of ideas regarding good and evil that mostly fit in with the teachings of Cayden Caylean, he sees little problem with lies, misdirection, and double-dealing if it's in the name of a greater good.
While generally quite talkative and friendly, Quentin's familiarity with disguise goes beyond the applying of an eyepatch or fake mustache; keenly in control of his emotions and body language when the situation warrants it.

Standing about average height, Quentin isn't much a physical specimen - in fact, one might say his most outstanding characteristic is his fit into the average - neither attractive nor unattractive, of middling height, and possessing the same dark hair and eyes as half the rest of the population. He'd be easy to miss in a crowd even if you were looking for him.
Quentin has no "average" outfit - never too far from his trusty traveling trunk, his myriad collection of clothing allows for outfits that are suited to the task at hand, from impressing the local gentry in finery to skulking in shadows as a pickpocket.

Close Friend: Friar Nigel of Restov was like a second father to Quentin, having spent countless hours watching the boy carouse and make mischief under the roof of his temple. Not that Quentin doesn't love his father as well, but Quentin's dad never seemed to quite 'get' the lad's obsession with stories of adventure, perfectly content to not risk his neck for a bit of gold and a good story.

Friend: Quentin's skill with words, perception, and disguise didn't simply manifest of their own accord. One of the less unsavory ne'er-do-wells in Restov, Conry by name, found an eager young apprentice in Quentin. When Quentin wasn't at the fest hall, he would often find excuses to spent time with Conry, who was a grifter, gambler, information broker, and was known to 'acquire' things that were needed...for a price. Despite his the nature of his business and being nearly a decade his senior, Conry treated Quentin with respect, recognizing the youngster's talent. Conry didn't quite understand when Quentin went into the service of Cayden Cailean, but figured if there was any god he could respect it would the the Lucky Drunk. When Quentin left for the Stolen Lands, he was sad to see the lad go but understood his need to get 'out there' and wished him the best of luck.

Enemies: Quentin has no one specific enemy of great power, but rather a small group of thieves, corrupt businessmen, minor governmental officials, cult leaders and other minor villains whose wrongdoings he has ferreted out in the service of the church. Not many know his real name as more of than not he was in disguise and in character to obtain information, but enough of them would recognize him on sight for it to be a worry to Quentin. While in Restov, he could rely on his familiarity with the city and the support of the church to keep him safe. Outside the safety of Restov and the immediate support of the church, he is a little more wary than at home, but fortunately most of these characters are still in Restov and/or locked up.