Quentin is a tall, well-built man in his mid-thirties. Despite a rather laconic manner in movement and speech, he is quite athletic. He has thick black hair that is kept cut short and rarely sports facial hair. His eyes are green-brown hazel that seem to change color depending on his surroundings and moods. Quentin is normally well-dressed and hates to be dirty.
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Traits & Characteristics
Suave, Charming, Debonair
Calm, cool-headed, especially in a crisis
Strong sense of justice
Doesn't hold a grudge, but will get even.
Quentin Aloysius Cantrell was born into the genteel life of the aristocracy of the Southern United States and a way of life that would all-to-soon come to an end.
Being fair and honorable was more than mere words to the Cantrells, and they imparted both traits to their son. Quentin was also taught that there were very few circumstances that merited being crude or impolite. In all his dealings, Cantrell keeps those two virtues in mind.
Cantrell is seen as a suave, debonair man, much like the stereotypical southern riverboat gambler personality. His genteel manners cover a spine of pure steel marked by never backing down from a confrontation. He also developed a reputation as the quintessential ladies' man.
Although gaining his trust and respect is not easy, once given, Quentin is loyal to a fault. Holding a grudge is not his style, but trailing someone for months to get justice for wrongs to him or those that he calls friends is.
Quentin is calm, cool-headed and very intelligent.
Quentin has a deep voice laced with thick South Carolina accent. His southern drawl seems to add to his ability to attract the ladies.
Employer Name: Thornton Legacy, Lost Lake Ranch
Position: Business Manager, Troubleshooter
Details: Quentin owns a percentage of the Thornton Legacy business assets and is the manager of the assets belonging to his niece and nephew until they come of age.
Highly intelligent and educated
Excellent investigative skills
Good at reading people
Excellent interrogation skills
Excellent observation skills
Gunfighting / Marksmanship
Self Defense: Quentin is good with his fists, and excels at using any weapon handy in a brawl. All skills learned by losing as many fights as he won when he was younger. He is also an excellent marksman and a very fast draw.
Hobbies & Interests
Aliases / Nicknames
Q, Quen, Quent (used mainly by Shade Thornton)
Double L Ranch (Lost Lake Ranch)
Kalispell, Territory of Montana
San Francisco, California
Place of Birth
Charleston, South Carolina, USA
Kith & Kin
Children: Quentin does not have any children of his own. He shares guardianship of his orphaned niece and nephew with their paternal uncle, Shade Thornton.
William Cody Thornton: Nephew, Ward
Birth Parents: Chance and Regina Thornton
DOB: February 11, 1870 (a. 5)
Appearance: Cody has his Uncle Shade's raven black hair and deep blue eyes. His hair is thick and wavy, he also has dark brows and long, thick black eyelashes.
Regina Antoinette Thornton: Niece, Ward
Birth Parents: Chance and Regina Thornton
DOB: February 11, 1870 (a. 5)
Appearance: Nettie has Regina's beautiful, golden brown hair and her father's light-blue eyes. Her eyebrows and lashes are slightly darker than her hair, but golden tipped which matches the natural highlights in her hair. Nettie's hair is thick and wavy, and she prefers to wear it cut short. She hates being forced to stay still for someone to comb, brush and braid her hair for her.
Father: Charles Cantrell (deceased)
Mother: Claire Devereaux Cantrell (deceased)
Sister: Regina Beth Thornton
Husband: William Chance Thornton (m. 06/05/1862)
DOB: 04/05/1845; DOD: 06/02/1875 (a. 30)
Maiden Name: Cantrell
Regina Cantrell was the daughter of a wealthy Charleston, South Carolina family. The Cantrells and Thorntons were long-term business associates and friends with the Thorntons doing most of their east coast shipping business with the Cantrells. In 1861, with the winds of war stirring, Regina's parents sent her to stay with the Thorntons in Montana, hoping to keep her safe from the pending conflict.
She and Chance Thornton fell in love almost at first sight. They were married a year after she came to live with the Thorntons. Reggie also fell in love with the ranch and Montana in equal measure. It was Regina's efforts that took the ranch from a modest paying concern to a one of the best in the country.
William Grant Thornton (Nephew; DOB: 05/02/1865; DOD: 06/02/1875 (a. 10)
ADVERSARIES & ALLIES
Shade Thornton (1875 to Present): Quentin met Shade when he brought him the news of Chance and Regina's death. During their journey to Montana, the two men became friends.
Quentin harbors a deep-seated hatred of whoever was responsible for the death of his sister and her family.
Others to be determined in game play.
May 7, 1839 (a. 0): Quentin Aloysius Cantrell born to Claire and Charles Cantrell.
April 5, 1845 (a. 6): Regina Beth Cantrell (younger sister) born.
1845 to 1856 (a. 6-17): Attends Charleston's Philips' Academy (private school)
Quentin had a childhood typical of a young man born into the upper echelons of Southern society. He learned the etiquette required of all young gentlemen. Quentin attended one of Charleston's premier private schools for young men where he was a good student but easily bored when studying subjects that he had no interest in.
1856 to 1860 (a. 17-21): West Point (4 years) September 1860: Regina sent to live with Thorntons.
Upon graduating from high school, Quentin spent a few months kicking around, trying to decide what he wanted to do. He had no interest in the family's shipping business, prompting his father to put a time limit on him for finding something he wanted to do and making his own way. It was almost by accident that he wound up at West Point when a family friend nominated him.
Although the military was not his first choice, Quentin did surprisingly well, excelling at the challenging curriculum. He graduated in the top one-percent in his class.
With the deterioration of relations between the northern and southern states, Quentin's parents decided to send their daughter to live with family friends in Montana, well out of harm's way.
1861 to 1865 (a. 22-26): The Civil War.
Cantrell heard about a unit being formed called Hampton's Legion. He traveled to Charleston to enlist and due to his West Point Education was commissioned as a Lieutenant in the Cavalry that made up part of the Legion. In 1862 the Cavalry was combined with other small units and designated the 2nd South Carolina Cavalry where they served with Hampton for the rest of the war. The Battalion saw action in most of the major actions of the Army of Northern Virginia from Second Manassas through the end of the war. Cantrell showed skill despite his age and ended the war as a Major.
June 5, 1862 (a. 23) Regina marries Chance Thornton (Kalispell, Montana).
May 5, 1865 (a. 26): William Grant Thornton (nephew) born.
1865 (a. 26): Civil War ends, Quentin moves west.
At the end of the Civil War, with his home destroyed and no family left except for Regina, Quentin moves west and settles in San Francisco. California allowed him to be within a respectable distance of Montana for visits home with his sister and her growing family, but still in a city that was a hub of society and culture. Except for modest sums of money ensconced in hidden accounts, the Cantrells had lost everything. One of Quentin's goals was to rebuild the family fortunes.
1866 to 1875 (a. 27-36)
March 1, 1867 (a. 28): Lilah Beth Thornton (niece) born. February 11, 1870 (a. 31): William Cody Thornton (nephew) and Antoinette Regina Thornton (niece) born.
Shortly after settling in San Francisco, Quentin met up with an old friend who had pulled out of the South right before hostilities broke out. He offered Cantrell a generous finder's fee to locate his former partner who had absconded with the bulk of his fortune. Quentin discovered a talent for locating people and things. The military had taught him tactics and persistence. He was also quite skilled with firearms, another major business asset in the West.
Over the next several years, Quentin's reputation for getting jobs done grew. He billed himself as a Troubleshooter. Cantrell's work ranged from prisoner escort to bodyguard.
June 2, 1875 (a. 36): Regina, Chance, Grant, and Beth are allegedly massacred by Indians. Only Cody survives.
Quentin receives word that his sister was killed while returning with her family from Missoula, Montana. She, her husband and their two older children were allegedly killed by Indians. Quentin heads for Montana where he learns that Chance and Regina had named Chance's younger brother, Shade, as the children's guardian in their will, as well as the trustee of their estate. However, the family's attorney was moving for custody of young Cody, citing Shade as not suitable, if even still alive. Quentin manages to get a temporary injunction on the proceedings but has a finite amount of time in which to locate Shade Thornton.
Graduated West Point Military Academy.
Quentin is well read, can write quite eloquently, and is good at math.
English, French (Both Fluent)
Chance and Regina Thornton's Last Will and Testament
Despite a tradition mandated by their great grandfather, Ishmael Thornton, and perpetuated by Caleb Thornton, Chance chose to leave half of the Thornton ranch to his younger brother. Shade was also named as sole guardian and trustee for Chance's children, the only survivor of which were the five-year-old twins, Cody and Nettie. Quentin was left interests in the Thornton Legacy business assets with a stipulation that controlling interest would devolve to Chance's and Regina's children when they reached legal age.
Judge Mandrell's Ruling
In the best interests of the children, Judge Robert Mandrell set aside some of the dictates of the will. He stipulated that the twins' other uncle, Quentin Cantrell, would share guardianship of them and management of their extensive business interests. The judge also added a requirement that the two men hire a suitable woman to help care for the children stating that he would personally review the arrangements in six months' time.
"You pressin' charges, Quentin?" Speed asked, not knowing what the man had in mind. "If you don't then I will. Looks to me like the Circuit Judge'll have his hands full whenever he gets here." It would be a case load, that was for sure.
Quentin slid his revolver back into its holster as he thought about what the marshal asked. "I'm not sure if we should arrest that idiot or a bottle of whiskey from the saloon..." Quentin rubbed his chin. "...Ah, Hell, he did try and break my head for me, so sure, I'll swear out charges on Loudmouth. I guess the boy is only guilty of horrible judgement in who he follows around. I don't have anything on the kid...that's for you to decide."
"Okay, Billy is it? Pick him up an' walk ahead of me to Marshal's office. Believe we've on cell left that should do nicely." Pike looked at Quentin. "Nice piece of work Cantrell!" He shove Billy and the stunned Greer toward the jail. "Interrupted my dinner, ya did, I don't take to kindly to that."
Quentin smiled and raised a hand to his hat brim and gave a half salute to Pike. "Just happy to have been here to help. I do hate uneven fights."
It was then he spotted Flandry, and nudging Quentin stepped over to him. "Didn't get a chance to thank you for your actions earlier today, You and Quentin here made the difference, along with young Ryker. I think we've time for a drink before we head to the Hotel for that steak."
Quentin extended a hand to Ralph and shook it. "Marshal's right. You sure helped keep them busy until the law arrived. It's good to know other citizens stepped up..." Quentin then looked over at the marshal. "...I believe the deal was I buy the drinks and you buy the steaks!" He looked back at Ralph. "I know buying drinks for the bartender seems odd, but I owe you a drink or three as well. I'll leave you some money for Pike and Ryker to have a few later on if you don't mind helping me out?"
Pike came up to them and announced. "All locked up tight for the night. Be headin' back to my supper at the Lickskillet with Em. She had herself a day."
Quentin extended a hand to the deputy. "I was just buying everyone from earlier today a few drinks. I'll leave money with Ralph. Have a few on me when you have the chance?"
Quentin glanced down at Greer to assure himself the man wasn't faking his condition, then he looked back at Billy. "Let's start with your unfortunate choice in friends...now, you move real slow...and undo your gun belt with your left hand, and let it fall to the ground. Don't spook me, Boy...I spook...I shoot, you understand?"
Both men grabbed an arm at the shoulder and dragged Case into the Municipal building and to the cell block where they unceremoniously tossed him on the cot. The door clanged shut and turned in the lock. Both left the jail to join up with Quentin.
Quentin bided his time keeping Billy at the end of his revolver and watching the crowd of onlookers. He did let out an inner sigh of relief as he heard the doors bang open and Speed and his deputy re-emerged from the city building. As they approached Quentin looked at the deputy. "If you would be so kind and collect this gentleman's gun belt. His companion was...unable...to remove his, so you may want to collect it also."
And with that he took a swing, a big old round house right that just might have worked if the target was unprepared. Not quite the case though.
Quentin had been in more than a few fights, and when he was younger he had caught more than a few punches. One thing he had learned very quickly was that he didn't want to keep doing so. By learning from others, losing his share of fights, and even barely winning the rest...Quentin had learned when to make a punch get thrown. By making it happen he had found that he could control a lot more of what happened afterward instead of getting taken by surprise.
Greer was drunk and large...neither of which were useful without any skill. Quentin's knees were already bending as the the big man's punch whipped by over his head. The momentum of the punch drawing Greer forward and past Quentin's right side. Quentin straightened and his right hand came up and over, backhanding the barrel of his Smith down into the side of Greer's neck and head. The solid thump was audible to several people nearby and Greer went down like a sack of grain to lay in the dirt, moaning.
Quentin turned and swept the pistol back up, thumbing the hammer back and ending up looking over the sights at the smaller cowboy who had been standing near Greer.
"That's our boss and you ain't got no damn badge, you can't tell us what to do!" Greer snarled.
Quentin gave a slow smile. "Does me not having a badge make me less dangerous...or more?" His glance darted to the younger companion of the big mouth before him, but he looked to have already decided not to try anything for the moment. Quentin turned his attention back to the bigger man again.
"But just so you know, I've been helping the marshal all day so as far as you're concerned I am wearing a badge until he says I'm not..." Quentin's eyes narrowed "...You look a little less sure of yourself when you're not pushing a girl around. I'm not a girl and my back isn't turned...what are you gonna do now, big mouth?"
Quentin's eyes moved over the crowd of various onlookers as he looked for any problems. Case had his hands full with the unsteady and still muttering Case. Purposeful movement at the rear of the crowd caught his eye and he saw a pair of cowpunchers pushing through the loose gathering. A tall mean looking sort and a smaller, more reticent one right behind him. Quentin let out a breath along with a quiet curse as he realized both were heading right for Speed with definite intentions.
Dropping the reins of the horses he had been leading, Quentin pushed through the crowd, his right hand moving subtly as he walked, sliding his Smith and Wesson from its holster and holding it down along his leg, out of sight of the two as he arrived between the lead man and Speed. "Boys...I'm pretty sure this is none of your business. Marshal is just doing his job. Go on about your business if you don't want to join that man in a cell..."
He jerked him upright. “You’re drunk Case, a night in the hoosegow ought to cure that.” He pushed him toward the jail, ignoring the crowd that gathered.
Quentin was so surprised by Speed's reaction that he drew the Colt out of reflex, yanking Paladin a bit sideways to cover them both with the smaller revolver before he realized Speed had everything under control. Quentin's head tilted and the corner of his mouth quirked up to see Case Steelgrave so unceremoniously manhandled. Quentin slid the Colt back out of sight and slid down from the saddle, moving around to unhitch Speed's horse and keep Paladin's rein in his hand, staying over to the side of the growing crowd as he moved around toward Speed and his prisoner.
Quentin nodded at Steelgrave, he knew he should just be the bigger man and let it go at that, but he had heard and seen too much about Case Steelgrave not to somehow figure this involved him...some how...some way...but nothing he could prove. "What's wrong, Case? He one of yours?"
Quentin had spent several years helping people and dealing with many different kinds of unsavory characters, and one thing he had learned both over a gun and a card table was how to see when something had hit home. Case was good, he grabbed his reaction internally and wrestled it back into a calm expression in seconds, but Quentin saw his eyes and the momentary stiffening of his muscles in those few moments as the words hit home.
Quentin decided to press a bit. "You planning to become Sheriff so you can keep your little criminal enterprises going in safety outside of town? You're going to need a lot better class of weasel than what you have currently..."
Quentin's right hand had been resting near his belt buckle and as he spoke it had slid under the edge of his coat to rest on the butt of his Colt that sat on his left side, crossdraw style. Quentin knew on horseback he could never draw his Smith from his right side fast enough for someone with Case's reputation, and giving Case an even chance was not something Mrs. Cantrell had ever raised her son to do on purpose.
With a stop at the undertakers to drop off the body into his care thy remounted and Speed turned to Quentin, "Take up on the steak,I'll buy the drinks. Do need to stop and retrieve my badge tho." He grinned, "been a hell of a day, ain't it?"
Quentin nodded. "If you're buying drinks, I'll have the good stuff, and yes...quite a day..." Quentin paused a moment, then stuck his hand out. "Pleasure working with you today, Marshal...you're good troop."
“You read my mind, we not ready for a long chase, and out that way is the Evergreen spread, and a whole new set of problems. Best we head back, pick up that hombre and pull him back to the undertaker, that is if his horse is still there.” He smiled, but it was more the grimace of defeat.
Quentin nodded as he let the cigarillo hang from the corner of his mouth. "It would be nice if he showed up again...but I'm not going to be that much of a dreamer..."
“You likely have to get back to Lost Lake anyway, I appreciate the help, Quentin.” Speed added as he turned his horse and stepped into leather. He looked to the men mounting up.
"I'll help you fetch that body and get it back to town. If it's too late I'll spend the night and head back home in the morning...." Quentin tugged Paladin's reins to steady the horse. "...I'll buy us a steak at the hotel. We've earned it...and you don't have to thank me, Marshal, I haven't done anything like this for a few years. Kinda forgot how much I missed it."
“Good hunting!” One of the Leaning R riders called out, followed by shouts of thanks as they walked their mounts toward home.
“And that’ll be our pay today.” Speed said starting out for the corpse.
Quentin caught Speed's words and smiled to himself before spurring off to ride beside the other man into the lessening light...
Quentin pulled a cigarillo from the small pouch he kept in a shirt pocket and lit it with a lucifer struck from his belt buckle. He puffed it a few times so it stayed lit then blew out a cloud of smoke. "I'm afraid you may be right, Marshal...Even one Roberson doesn't balance out twenty like the ones we've killed today." He tugged the cigarillo from his mouth and looked at it while he thought, then he poked it back in place.
"We don't have extra food or gear to spend days out here chasing someone who may already be halfway to the next county, so we shouldn't go charging off ill-equipped hoping our self-righteousness makes up for not thinking ahead..." Quentin inhaled and then blew out another cloud. "...There's never enough good people to fight the bad, it seems. If Case Steelgrave becomes county Sheriff, your job will get that much harder because we know how he will run his office..."
Sagas of the WIld West is a roleplaying game set in a fictionalized version of the town of Kalispell in Montana territory. Our stories begin in 1875 and are set against the backdrop of actual historical events.Sagas was inspired by the classic television and movie westerns. Our focus is on writing, storytelling and character development.
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