Born into a family of scholars in the northern city of Coldreach, Victor developed an early fascination with the pursuit of truth. His father, a magistrate known for his keen ability to discern lies, taught him to observe the subtle tells in human behavior—a twitching finger, a shifted gaze, the slight tremor in a voice. These lessons would later serve him well, though not in the way his father intended.
Victor’s path to the Warders began after discovering ancient texts in his university’s restricted section, documents that hinted at threats beyond common understanding. His obsessive research into these materials caught the attention of a Warder recruiter, who recognized in Victor the necessary combination of intellectual rigor and moral flexibility their organization required.
The training to become a seeker proved brutal, designed to break down conventional morality and rebuild it around the Warders’ central mission. Victor learned that truth, when vital to preventing catastrophe, justified methods that would horrify ordinary citizens. His natural talent for reading people enhanced his ability to know precisely how much pressure to apply—physical or psychological—to extract information without breaking his subjects completely.
Victor Cartwright, who occupied one of the chairs, had the look of a compulsor about him. Neat beard and mustache, short cropped hair, and a stern face that had never experienced a smile. He wore a pressed white shirt under a plain waistcoat. An equally unimpressive bowler and a long coat occupied a rack in the corner. One eyebrow arched at our arrival, but the Warder made no other reaction, not even standing to greet us.
“Professor Dutton, I presume?” Mr. Cartwright asked, his gaze passing over me to linger on Liz, studying her with an appraising eye I didn’t appreciate. I wouldn’t describe his stare as ogling but more like sizing up his next meal.
- THE ASSASSIN’S CODE
His reputation within the Warders grew through a series of successful interrogations. Unlike some seekers who relied on physical torture, Victor developed a methodology that combined psychological manipulation with carefully calibrated pain. He learned that fear of suffering often proved more effective than suffering itself, and that building rapport with subjects before breaking them yielded more reliable information.
The pursuit of the Jakaree became Victor’s obsession after a failed interrogation early in his career. The subject, a suspected Jakaree agent, died before revealing crucial information, leaving Victor with a sense of failure that still drives him. He spent years studying their organization, learning their methods, and developing techniques to break their mental conditioning.
In public, Victor maintains the persona of a mild-mannered private investigator, using his scholarly background as a cover for his inquiries. His quarters in Alchester contain an extensive library of historical texts and meticulously organized and annotated interrogation records. Few who meet him in social settings would guess that the same hands that carefully turn ancient pages also know precisely where to apply pressure to cause maximum pain with minimal damage.
The weight of his work shows in subtle ways—the slight tremor in his hand when he drinks, the way he sometimes stares too long at people during conversations, analyzing their every movement. He justifies his actions through unwavering belief in the Warders’ mission, convincing himself that each broken bone and extracted confession serves a greater purpose.
Victor’s methods have earned him respect and wariness among his fellow Warders. They value his results but find his clinical approach to torture unsettling. He maintains detailed records of his interrogations, studying them to refine his techniques, always seeking more efficient ways to extract truth from unwilling minds.
His private quarters include a carefully maintained set of tools, each selected for specific purposes. But his most effective weapon remains his voice—calm, reasonable, almost gentle—as he explains to his subjects precisely what will happen if they refuse to cooperate. The contrast between his civilized demeanor and his actions creates a psychological discord that he weaponizes effectively.
Despite his dedication to the Warders’ cause, Victor occasionally questions the toll his work takes on his humanity. These moments of doubt come late at night when the screams of past subjects echo in his memory. He often drowns these thoughts in scholarly work, losing himself in historical research until the doubts subside. However, when that doesn’t work, he finds a drink and a snort of Ice Fire does the trick.
In Alchester, Victor moves through society like a ghost, present but unremarkable. He attends social functions, maintains a network of informants, and builds relationships with local authorities who might prove helpful. All while searching for signs of Jakaree influence, ready to apply his particular skills when necessary.
The truth about the Jakaree and the Warders’ mission remains his driving purpose, a purpose that allows him to justify actions that would damn him in the eyes of normal society. In his mind, he walks a necessary path, sacrificing pieces of his humanity to protect a world that must never know the full extent of what he does to keep it safe.
FIRST APPEARANCE
Victor first appears in The Assassin's Code (Assassin Without a Name Book Three).
