Xantrian first met Katarina when she joined the guard, following in the steps of her brother, Captain Piotr. He didn't think she handled the blade he forged for her all that well, but she took to the bow easily.
Not too long ago, while working at The Gilded Prawn, Xantrian heard of Captain Piotr and his patrol's death, with just Katarina surviving. Remembering the two of them, he felt some sorrow - they were two of the good ones. Upon hearing that Piotr's mutilated corpse was left on Katarina's door, that sorrow turned to the anger that's always so close to the surface these days. It was just another case of more hurt being inflicted on those undeserving, and it needed to stop.
Xantrian began looking for information about what happened to the patrol, and who might have been behind it. He hasn't yet had much luck, but he fully intends to find the bastards who did it, and once he does, he'll take that information to Katarina. If she's made up of the stuff he thinks she is, she'll want vengeance.
Xantrian and Darius Goldwin:
Darius is one of the few people Xantrian considers a friend. It seems at first an odd pairing - the angry, bitter man who seeks to protect the helpless and get vengeance on those who do wrong, and the harsh, ruthless merchant. Yet Xantrian sees more in Darius. He's witnessed Darius fight back against the unjust in his own quiet way.
Knowing that Darius hears much, he's often stopped by the pawn shop and told stories about the abused and helpless. More often than not, Darius has heard something and can pass along an important bit of information to lead Xantrian to the wicked to mete out his brand of vengeance.
One thing about Darius bothers Xantrian, however. For somebody who knows and hears so much, the merchant has had suspiciously little information about Gaedren Lamm. Xantrian suspects Darius is holding something back, and it's kept him from committing his full trust.
The pawn shop's bell jingled as Xantrian walked through the door. Darius looked up from the counter, his stern face lifting into a brief approximation of a smile. "Xantrian, back again. Come to peruse my goods for once, or are you to bother me with something else?"
Xantrian looked around the rest of the shop, and seeing it empty, closed the door and locked it. "You know why I come here, Darius. You may run a pawn shop, but I've never met another so well-connected to the mutterings of the underworld." The two clasped hands, and Xantrian's face broke into a rare smile.
"Still don't know why I put up with you," Darius mutters.
Xantrian ignores the gruff man's complaints. "First..."
Darius sighed. "I know, Gaedren Lamm. Same question every time, Xantrian. No, I don't have anymore information on him than I've already told you."
A nod, a sigh. Xantrian didn't really expect anything else. "Next, then. Little boy by the name of Jory Ives. He's a street rat, barely getting by. I'd give him a few scraps of leftover food from time to time, when he'd let me. Odd thing was, he always had a set of finely-carved wooden pipes. He couldn't play them worth two pennies, but they were his most treasured possession. I saw him just this morning, eyes blackened, roughed up, and pipes missing. Wouldn't say anything about what happened."
Darius tapped a finger against his lip a few times, then reached under the counter, pulling out a set of wooden pipes, his raised eyebrow a question.
Xantrian nodded. "That's them. Who sold them to you?"
"I didn't get his name. Probably a teenager, maybe just out of his teens. Broad, not too intelligent looking. Street thug, probably." After giving a detailed description, Darius looks down at the pipes, staring for several seconds. Eventually, he lets out a sigh and hands the pipes over to Xantrian. "You'll return them to Jory?"
A nod, a grim smile. "Thank you, Darius. I'll try to get the money out of that bastard and return it to you."
"Sure you will. We done here? I have a business to run you know."
The pawn shop's bell jingled as Xantrian walked through the door. Darius looked up from the counter and his stern faced relaxed into a somewhat-believable smile. "Ah, Xantrian my friend, how are you doing today? Come to peruse my goods, for once, or are you here on business again?"
Xantrian looked around the rest of the shop, and seeing it empty, closed the door and locked it. "You know why I come here, Darius. You may run a pawn shop, but I've never met another so well-connected to the mutterings of the underworld." The two clasped hands, and Xantrian's face broke into a rare smile.
"Business it is, then."
Xantrian nodded. "Aye. First..."
Darius sighed. "I know, Gaedren Lamm. Same question every time, Xantrian. No, I don't have anymore information on him than I've already told you."
A nod, a sigh. Xantrian didn't really expect anything else. "Next, then. Little boy by the name of Jory Ives. He's a street rat, barely getting by. I'd give him a few scraps of leftover food from time to time, when he'd let me. Odd thing was, he always had a set of finely-carved wooden pipes. He couldn't play them worth two pennies, but they were his most treasured possession. I saw him just this morning, eyes blackened, roughed up, and pipes missing. Wouldn't say anything about what happened."
Darius tapped a finger against his lip a few times, then reached under the counter, pulling out a set of wooden pipes, his raised eyebrow a question.
Xantrian nodded. "That's them. Who sold them to you?"
"I didn't get his name. Probably a teenager, maybe just out of his teens. Broad, not too intelligent looking." After giving a detailed description, Darius hands the pipes over to Xantrian. "You'll return them to Jory?"
A nod, a grim smile. "Thank you, Darius. I'll try to get the money out of that bastard and return it to you."
Hope I got Darius's personality at least somewhat right.
Xantrian carefully cut into the slab of tuna, his knife expertly separating a razor-thing slice of the valuable fish, and laid the delicate morsel over the scattering of greens and chiles, finishing the bowl of ceviche. Mara came into the kitchen to pick up the dish, talking quietly with Leinay.
"...you hear about that guard who survived the lost patrol? Her brother's corpse showed up on her doorstep, carved up and..."
Xantrian frowned. He had no love for the guard, not anymore, but this sounded bad. He knew of the girl, Katarina Doliu. She'd shown little aptitude for the weapons he made, but her skill with the bow had been the talk of the guard. And her brother, Captain Piotr...he had been a great swordsman, and a decent fellow to boot. One of the good ones. Xantrian had already thought of looking into the ambush when he'd heard about it a few days ago, but they were just guards, after all. They probably deserved it. But now this leaving the corpse on Katarina's doorstep...this was more than just an attack on a guard patrol. This seemed personal somehow.
Later that night, Xantrian watched from the shadows, his eye on Katarina's home, looking for those who might be paying a little too much attention to the house. Once night fell, and no one seemed problematic, he walked to the door and knocked. Katarina answered.
"Katarina," he said by way of a greeting.
She looked at him and said nothing. Whether she recognized him or not, it was hard to say.
"Don't trust what the guard's leadership tells you about Piotr. They may have leads, they may not, but do not count on them revealing such to you. I suggest you find out more, whatever the means. I'll keep an eye out for more information as well. If you find something and want help exacting revenge, you can contact me at The Gilded Prawn." He grimaced as he said the name, as he always did. Such a ridiculous name for a restaurant. Without another word, Xantrian turned and walked away.
@Xantrian - Like every character seeking revenge, my biggest question is this: What happens when the revenge is over? Your backstory and statblock look good, I'm just worried that the character doesn't have a natural arc after Ch. 1.
Xantrian is after more than just vengeance for his dead wife. He wants to stop people that prey on those unable to protect themselves. He learned to love Korvosa through Myria, and now he wants to protect it. His attitude is kind of similar to Batman - the angry vigilante.
The death of his wife and unborn child affected him deeply and he is a sucker for women and children in distress.
Didn't even realize how our two characters have some very similar ideas, but we took them in very different ways. Could be some interesting RP between the two characters.
Submitting Xantrian Carver, inquisitor of Calistria. Details in the character profile. Though the character is fully built at this point, I have some formatting edits to do on the statblock to make it better.
Edit after seeing the question What excites me about my character: I love the idea of a character that is devoted to good, but has serious anger issues and a severe need to right wrongs that he sees. Throw in that he worships Calistria, whose ideals aren't all that aligned to his, and I think it makes for an interesting combination. Also, it'd be great to be able to see Xantrian grow from his current state (in many ways, a broken man) and hopefully heal the deep wounds from which he suffers.
Xantrian's (not finalized) stat block is posted in his profile, if you care to peruse it. I understand you're not looking for these yet, but I love creating characters, so it was fun.
I forgot to add the PC's are not expecting trouble when they arrive. Xantrian for the purpose of keeping your story we can say you are already in town when the trouble began. There is a real reason for a chef to be in town so it won't be an issue if you get selected.
Xantrian Carver never intend to be an adventurer; he just wanted to be a chef.
Born in Oppara to poor parents, he subsisted on little more than beans, bread, and water. He caught only the merest glimpses of Oppara's renowned high society, but it created a thirst in him. If only he could be a part of that. If only the rich and noble would clamor for his attention rather than avert their eyes from the dirty child.
Forced by necessity to fend for himself in the alleys, Xantrian grew up fast, and he grew up hard. While he never sought a fight, he refused to back down. When he stood up to and fought Jacques, a much-larger street tough, he earned the respect of his peers. It didn't matter that Jacques beat him nearly to death; Xantrian would never give up.
At the age of 16, Xantrian had grown weary of street life. He joined a mercenary band, Morrow's Marauders, in a desperate attempt to better his life. The pay, though meager by mercenary standards, was beyond a fortune to him; he'd never held more than two silver pieces in his entire life.
Xantrian's life changed after two years with the Marauders when the mercenary group took a contract to serve as guards for a noble's party. Xantrian was assigned what was widely considered the worst position - guarding the kitchen. The others wanted a chance to leer at the beautiful women, while Xantrian had to stay in the back. It turned out to be the best thing that ever could have happened to the young man.
The chef catering the party was Hubert Galt, widely considered to be one of the best in all Taldor. Xantrian took his post seriously, at first, remaining vigilant and watchful, but the delicious smells that wafted from the stoves as Galt prepared delicacy after delicacy soon set his stomach to rumbling. One particularly loud rumble caught the attention of Galt, who laughed and waved the guard over. One taste of the dish (beef tartar, minced shallots, capers, mushrooms, and a quail egg yolk on top) changed his life forever.
Galt saw the passion awake in Xantrian's eyes, and made him an offer: work as his assistant for one year, no pay. If Xantrian showed promise, Galt would take him on as an apprentice. Xantrian didn't hesitate; he left the Morrow's Marauders that very night and never looked back.
In the year that followed, Xantrian encountered a different world. Galt traveled all over Taldor, cooking for only the richest people. Once, he even cooked a meal for Grand Prince Stavian III! It was a difficult year, however, for Galt was a demanding master with a short temper. Even the slightest mistake would unleash a torrent of vitriol. Yet Xantrian thrived under the difficult conditions, and when the year was up, Galt offered him the apprenticeship without a second thought.
It took six years to complete his apprenticeship, five years in which Xantrian saw more of Garund than he'd ever dreamed existed. Taldor, Andor, Isger, Qadira, even Absalom...Galt was in demand everywhere. And as Xantrian learned the secrets of a master chef, he developed his own style, one that fused techniques and flavors from every region they visited. And, to his secret delight, his own fame began to rise. Towards the end of his apprenticeship, the relationship between Galt and Xantrian worsened. The pupil's masterpieces were in ever higher demand, to the point of overshadowing the master, and it was with bitter words they parted ways.
Xantrian spent the next four years continuing his world travels, having finally accomplished his dream of having the rich and noble desperate for his services. Yet, he discovered something was missing. He was never satisfied serving the same dishes day in and day out. Not only were new combinations of flavor and texture required to keep his attention, but new ingredients were needed. Not the mundane spices imported from Avistan; no, he longed to use much more exotic fare. Aberrations, magical beasts, rare animals...serving up dishes incorporating such incredible delicacies would propel him to new heights.
Determined to go where no master chef had gone before, Xantrian left the world of high society and took up the bardiche he'd carried with Morrow's Marauders. Since then, he's joined several different adventuring groups, among them the Silver Blades and the Black Brawlers. Recently, he heard about dragon trouble in Dalaston. Of all the creatures he's ever wanted to butcher and cook, dragons have topped the list, and so he couldn't resist.
Personality:
Xantrian is stubborn and ill-tempered; no doubt his temperament was influenced a great deal by Galt. He is a perfectionist in everything, but especially when it comes to cooking. He is an intimidating man, more by a level of simmering anger that lies just below the surface than his physique.
Xantrian's speech is typically refined, as he's taken great care to adopt the speech of the nobility. However, when he's excited or under great stress, his control slips and bits of street slang come out.
Crunch:
Xantrian is a straight Fighter with no archetype. His skill focus is on Intimidate, Profession: Cook, Perception, and, to a lesser degree, Survival. He primarily uses a Bardiche in combat.
