Antus Cultellus, Human Male Rogue1, Background: Artisan (Chef)
STR 10 (3)
CON 11 (2)
WIS 12 (3)
Spd 30 ft, HD 1d6, Init +3
Rogue Scheme – Thief, Talent – Sneak Attack
Skill Tricks: Gilded Tongue
Skill Die: 1d4
Disable Device, Gather Rumors, Knowledge(Folklore), Listen, Persuade, Profession (Chef), Sleight of Hand, Sneak
Skill Focus (Sneak), Skill Focus (Profession)
Leather Armor, Chef’s Knives x4 (Daggers), Meat Cleaver (shortsword), Sling, Bullets x20, Backpack, Healer’s Kit (20 uses), Mess kit, Hempen Rope (50 ft), tinderbox, Torches x10, Rations x10, waterskin, Chef’s tools, iron pot, sack x2, soap, common clothes, fishing tackle, flask x6, hooded lantern, oil flask x3, thieves tools, whetstone, belt pouch x2
73 gp, 7 sp, 9 cp
Antus was, like so many, a child of the Imperial orphanages having lost his parents to some crisis or another. As he grew up, he learned the harsh lessons of life in the orphanage, witnessing hunger and disease firsthand. As he aged, he began to sneak through the neighborhood at night, stealing what scraps he could. These scraps were unappetizing, but supplemented the meager diet of himself and his fellows. As his skill improved, the amount of scraps increased, but not the unappetizing nature. Knowing that the cooking ability of the orphanage’s Matron only covered the making of lumpy, tasteless gruel, Antus searched for another source of ways to improve the flavor of his foodstuffs.
After a bit of searching, he found a small but very busy restaurant just outside his normal territory. Using all the skill he had acquired, he worked his way into the kitchen and found a perch in the rafters to hide and observe. From this vantage point, he watched the chef and her assistants craft the various entrees being served. Day after day, he would return. By day, he would observe and learn. At night, he acquire his foodstuffs and try to mimic what he witnessed for his fellow orphans. This repeated, day after day, for years. As he grew, his skills in cooking and stealth both steadily improved.
His new life changed again, when one day he found his beloved restaurant being ravaged by Imperial justices and other agents. Rumors abound, but the term “Black Waltz” kept surfacing. Upon his return to the orphanage, he found another surprise. A man from the Order of Works was waiting on him, having received a hefty donation in his favor from an anonymous source. The only clause was that the donation required him to receive formal training in the art of cooking.
His schooling went quickly, as he learned everything from anyone willing to teach. Occasionally, he would stop and listen to more tales of the exploits of the “Black Waltz” as they made their way through the school.
Now graduated as a chef, a citizen, and a member of the Order of Works, Antus Cultellus sets out.