Xander was born to a noble house, the Firefell, in the city of Vigildock, and was trained to be a noble knight, as befitted his noble birth. During his training, he demonstrated great strength of character, and swiftly grew to be a leader among his peers, as well as one of the better warriors. His little band of friends swiftly grew in fame and renown among the nobility, as the young bloods.
One day, they received news of a goblin attack, and, believing their reputation to be enough to make them invulnerable, they headed out.
2 hours later, mounted on their noble horses, equipped with the best armor and weapons money could buy, the Young Bloods headed out, and they did indeed find blood.
When the 4 knights charged the goblins, they made quite a few discoveries.
First: Caltrops are not good for horses.
Second: The goblins were rather well equipped, and rather tall.
Third: Pits are even worse for Horses.
Fourth: Crossbows are pretty good against armor.
Fifth: Dying kinda hurts.
Sixth: Battle is not what the stories made it out to be.
As the strange group of men made sure that his companions were dead, they came to Xander, impaled on a spike from a pit trap, talking amongst themselves, about a job well done. As they reach him, the blood of his friends still upon their blades, they go to kill him as well, but the leader waves them off, explaining that a clean death is too much for Xander.
And so they left him, with the spike passing clean through him, unable to move from the weight of his armor.
Several hours pass, and then a day, with him growing progressively weaker, and more and more delirious from infection, heat, and dehydration. He started hearing the words of the gods, or, at least, he thought he did, asking him to protect others, to serve them, and to face evil. Eventually, growing tired, he, mentally came to the conclusion that such things were precisely what his order was about. As he almost dies, things seemed to change, and the world went white.
When he recovered, he stood up, noticing the gaping hole in his armor, and ran his hand over the healed flesh beneath, marveling at it.
Slowly, he looks around, noting the pall of ash on the day, and the flames of his city. Apparently, the group that attacked him was part of an army. One that had burned his home, and had likely killed many. His first instinct was to chase the army, and seek vengeance for his home, however, his new found agreement led him to the city, to try and save as many as he could, before departing, to do what he could for goodness and justice.