Since this is kind of a prequal to the previous game Fergus was in let's adjust things a bit.
Fergus was assigned as an assistant priest at a small chapel near Columbia University. In the winter of 1923 a blizzard struck NYC, and things in the city drew to a standstill. Professor Farnwright was caught up in some studies in the university library and didn't realize how bad things had gotten. He attempted to walk home to his small apartment a few blocks from the university, but the whiteout got him confused and things were dire. Through the blinding snow he saw a light and made his way to the Doorstep of St. Anthony's chapel. He banged on the door hoping someone was there to welcome him in before he froze to death.
It just so happened Father Garrity was in the basement organizing some ancient texts when he heard a faint knock from the front door.
Who would be out on such a night?
He ran upstairs and welcomed in a near frozen Professor Farnwright. As the weather kept him from leaving Fergus helped the professor warm up and they stayed up late in the night discussing the ancient texts uncovered in the croft of the church. This was the beginning of a friendship that though not close was stoked by shared disaster. Every year during the holidays Fergus and Professor Farnwright arranged to have dinner together to remember that fated night.
I think I posted this earlier, but it seems to have vanished. I'm going to withdraw from this game. The slow posting just keeps me from getting engaged in the story. Good luck to all.
Thanks my old friend. It sounds like you've assembled quiet the experienced and capable crew. I'm a bit surprised but delighted that you're even bringing a woman along. I've always thought they were a big slighted by society".
But is distracted, and obviously visiting his flask to often.
NOTE: This is why I've switched to Gumshoe (Trail of Cthulhu) for all my investigative games.
** spoiler omitted **
Fergus asks everyone involved to attend church with him on Sunday, and even if they decline he tries to arrange a Sunday afternoon gathering where all can exchange information, and get to know each other better.
"I seem to be perplexed and at a standstill in my investigations. Could some of you perhaps research the area we are heading, and perhaps come up with some in depth information concerning the last mission".
"Perhaps I'll ask for a roster of the remainder of our expedition, and find out what I can about them".
TGOO
Spoiler:
If you google Gumshoe system you'll find some quick start stuff, but basically there are two types of skills; General Skills, and Investigative skills. General skills are from a refresh-able pool and are for things like "Shooting, Brawling, Carousing" etc. There is a fixed target number, and you can spend points to add to your chances to succeed at these tasks. You roll a d6 and add as many points as you wish for success. Usually target number is 3 or 4.
Where it really shines though is the investigative skills. Basically if you even have 1 rank in the particular investigative skill then you are already an expert, and you get the clues needed to move on. Sometimes you can spend points from these pools to give you more information (A short cut to an answer etc.) as well. Even having two ranks of an investigative skill makes you an expert. You don't even roll dice for these skills you just get the clues, or spend points for additional information. The party tries to make sure all the skills are covered, and it allows everyone to have their chance to shine.
The premise is that if you put yourself in the position to get the next clue then you get it. The game is to pick the right place to look for the clues, not to roll well enough to get them. Plays much better than it sounds :-).
"As far as I'm concerned I believe there will be ample time on the long journey for many questions. I do believe I'll take advantage of your offer however. I haven't procured quarters here, and it's unfair to take advantage of the church by using their parsonage when I'll be leaving again so soon".
Fergus will spend the next two months doing several things. He'll begin to work out to try and prepare his body for the physicality of the journey, spend time volunteering at various charities throughout the city to prepare his soul, and research all he can about the last mission, and the geographical area they will be travelling to. If anyone asks he'll mention that it might not be a bad idea to figure out what they can about both the other participants of the expedition, and the financiers.
Fergus returns the salute. "I do fell that I've maybe got a bit of the Great Maker's ear, but he doesn't always follow my advise. My mind yearns for this endeavor, my body dreads it, and my soul is unsure... Still Gods will".
Fergus's smile when he takes Starkweather's hand is genuine, still some of the memories he tries so hard to submerge threaten to come to the surface. He swallows and a slight twitching of his eye, and an unconscious movement of his off hand to where the flask is hidden under his coat are the only reveals of this underlying tension.
"Commander Starkweather. It's been too long. It's good to see that father time has treated you so well".
Then taking on his "public speaking" persona, Fergus turns to the gathered group, and introduces himself.
"Hello all. I'm Fergus Garrity... Father Fergus Garrity as I'm sure you have all surmised. Commander Starkweather and I spent some time together in the trenches during the Great War, so I'm no stranger to adventure and hardship. And, I promise I won't make any judgement s about any of you, but if you need guidance concerning spiritual matters... well my door is always open".
He then shakes Moore's hand, before stepping back to hear the story's of the others.
I'll ask for the facilities in a bit. Need to freshen up a bit... The Father thinks to himself, though in the back of his mind he knows that he will put the flask to use.
Thomas never liked the cameras, not when his books were on the best sellers list, and especially not now, so he avoided the reporter. He decided to try his luck with the father, the boy and the engineer.
"Greetings. I'm Thomas Allen Greenwood, novelist of the Thornwood Sword series and, more recently, the Redlake Festival."
As a tentative to be part of the conversation and avoid the reporter, Thomas tried to answer the boy's question.
"When away from home and amid the unknown, the assurance that the faith is among us could make a difference between a successful expedition and a failed one..."
The Thornwood Sword series are similar in success to The Lord Of the Rings or The Game of Thrones... in other words, a big success for the fantasy fans. His recent book, the Redlake Festival is pretty dark, different from his former line of work and quite disappointing for his former fans, even though he acquired new ones.
"Mr Greenwood! Pleased to meet you. I'm a big fan of your work, I believe I detect some themes in there that I'd love to discuss with you at more detail. Perhaps our chance meeting might provide this opportunity".
Christopher St. Claire at your service. But if you don't mind what does a member of the church want with this expedition?
"Perhaps a better question is what does the expedition want with a member of the church? I'm here at the invitation of our host. I'm not only a man of god... I've seen things, and my relationship runs deep. What brings you here"?
"Certainly is. God works in mysterious ways". Fergus replies. "What brings you to this floor, if I might be so bold to ask"? "Oh and where are my manners". Fergus extends a hand.
I'll update this evening (US Eastern time). I'm travelling with a supervisor this week, so posting might be spotty. Please feel free to BOT my character if necessary to move the plot along.
Well so far the places I've looked for answers haven't worked, and as far as oblivion. The good father's hands absentmindedly stroke the small flask up under his cassock. I often visit there.
Fergus once again questions his decision... and then again, before rising from the alter with a sigh, and heading towards the meeting place.
Fergus arrived early in the morning, and had the Taxi drop him off in front of the Cathedral. His hands were sweating like a schoolboy during his first slow dance, as he approached the imposing edifice. Although he'd been here before, the feeling of some unseen power always threatened to overwhelm him as he approached the building.
If he ever had any questions about the validity of his faith, that feeling always ensured him that he'd made the right choice... Well that and the other things he had been exposed to.
Never hurts to ask for blessing from above before a major journey like this one. the devout priest thought to himself, as he entered the building.
Fergus is prepared to get on with the peaceful, fulfilling portion of his life, and prepares to tell Starkweather so, but somehow hears his voice answering... "Well I'm supposed to be taking on the responsibilities of a new church, but I guess I could speak with the Elders and see if I could get my starting date pushed back. How long do you need me for"?
He then sits down in the chair beside the phone as he begins to feel a bit faint. "On second thought, I need a night to pray about this decision". Even as he wrote down Starkweather's contact information and hung up the phone, he knew the answer... still it couldn't hurt to pray over it.
Early the next morning, after a sleepless night, he began to make preparations for his absence, and his journey.
Well there is a name I haven't heard in a while. . Fergus stood for a moment in thought. The easy thing to do would be to ignore the call, and move on with his life... but the questions and nightmares were still there. With a resigned sigh, he sat his bag down and headed thar way. "Coming"!
Fergus continues his lead-legged shuffle behind the ladies. He seems to be unable to concentrate for some reason...This face...beautiful, yet sinister keeps drifting back into his thoughts.
"Than really is a lovely shawl" he states in a too loud voice, just to break the silence.
"Thank you...Thank you, No I'm fine, I just, hmmm... must have had something bad to eat...I...I just don't know...no I'm fine. Regaining his composure a bit, "thank you Robert, yes maybe I should rest, I'm sure I'll be fine in a bit".
Fergus when he gets back to his room can't seem to sleep. Images of his "nightmare" keep flashing back to him. They just seemed to real too vivid. Maybe it was time, maybe he should use the word of his lord as his crutch, instead of the bottle. With grim determination Fergus returns to his room and collects all his stashes of hooch, and slowly and methodically empties them one by one into the sink in the shared bathroom. He finally gets down to his last nearly forgotten flask concealed within his spare hollowed out bible.
Is this what my life has come to? Is my soul like this bible hollowed out, and the word of god stripped from this holy book to be replaced by this bottle, is that like my life?
With a cry of anguish Fergus hurls the last flask into the tub, the glass vessel breaking into thousands of pieces, and flying about the room. Fergus kneels in the bath un-mindful of the broken shards that pierce his knees, and begins to pray...and keeps praying...and keeps praying... The next morning that is where Robert finds him. Pale, sweating, bleeding and horse from praying all night, but with a fire in his eyes that represents his renewed spirit.
Fergus's head is spinning from the days activities, and the physical effort of climbing through the caves. "I think I'll just take some hot tea and retire for the evening if thats OK with everyone". "I am not feeling too well".
By the time they get to that point, Fergus has become strangely quiet. He is breathing hard, and sweating, and close examination would show his hands to be shaking.
"I need to get back". he mumbles quietly under his breath. Using his strong willpower to fuel him when his physical inadequacy (or other dependencies) desert him.
Fergus, lagging behind the group as usual, rejoins the conversation. "Yes, this is beyond our capabilities". "We should return to the surface with some samples". He is secretly thinking that he needs to restock his liquid courage before continuing onward.
Fergus stares at the abomination, disgust patterning his face. He freezes for a second not sure whether to raise the shotgun, or his crucifix, but as the creature moves in towards the others, he raises the shotgun, and takes aim.
"Sure thing" Fergus gasps. He wishes he was a few years younger or in better shape, as he is starting to get a stitch in his side from trying to keep up, but soldiers through anyway. His faith will keep him going
Fergus keeps his eyes peeled and his hearing alert for anything going on in the cavern as the others make their way to the tunnel. When Rita disappears he takes another opportunity to fortify his resolve with a quick prayer and an even quicker swig.
We still have that cross chamber halfway down the entrance tunnel. Maybe it curls around and goes back to the door, Fergus intones, trying to avoid the dark water.
Fergus's heart begins to pound in his chest as he sees the monstrosity rise from the lake.
"Quickly! move back towards the entrance". "I don't think that things done with us yet".
He then keeps the shotgun trained towards the lake. If the other PC's move towards the entrance, he takes up a position in the rear, still facing the lake, and looks for an opportunity to take a swig from his flask.
If there is room around the edge of the lake. Fergus puts on a brave face and moves to his right. "Well were here now, lets go ahead and see what is here."
Fergus accepts the gun and lantern from Robert with a nod. "The lord is my protector...but nothing in the good book says he can't use a little assistance".
Fergus spends the quite hours before leaving in silent prayer. He also refills his container of liquid courage, then watches quietly as Robert cleans and preps his weapons. I guess we each worship in our own way he silently muses, at the similarity of their preparations.
Marcus Atilius of Absolum has not participated in any online campaigns.
