If your characters could have a last meal, what would it be and why?
Saigio: Warpstalker steaks. They’re his favorite.Galorlon: Something expensive and decadent and loaded up with lots of alcohol. Because he’s a lush.Aidan: Potatoes because hes’s irish.Ana Sophia: Her mother’s cooking, probably red chile and pork stew.
The following is a series of letters sent by Aidan Callaghan over the course of his life. He sent many letters and the collection is something of a highlight reel.
@bloodoflordaeron ))
Dear Father Paul
This is Aidan. I am learning to write from Mary Eliza. Wanted to write to you first. Say hello and all that. Also wanted to say sorry about leaving the church and all. I left my rosary in our old room back with the Order. Want you to keep it. Maybe do some thing nice with it. A nice memoree- mumo- something nice in her honor. I know the word, just can’t spell the thing. Still learning the big words. Belonged to my wife. The first one, Deirdre. Vampires killed. Was why I came over here in the first place, but I never found it. Maybe I never will. Dunno.
Cera sends her best. First kids will be born soon. Not sure if what Merryl said is true and we’ll have six of em or not. Hoping for less. You can visit if you want. We’re gonna stay around here for a while still. Not gonna baptize them. Staying with the old ways. My grandma knew them. Wasn’t following them, good Catholic she was. Better than me. Knew the ways though, and told the stories. Still gonna pray, Father. Hope God gets it.
Gonna go help Cera now. Hope this reaches you. Maybe I’ll visit soon. God be with you.
-Aidan Callaghan
Dear Teddy Gamble
Hello Teddy. It’s me, Aidan. Mary Eliza has been teaching me to write and read. Been getting real good. How are you fairing with the Vigil? Say hello to everyone. Even the Spaniard. Miss you guys. Might come up and visit soon. Kids are getting big. Next bunch are on the way, but we’re thinking of going north. Rest of the Fianna have been helping. Dalia is a bit of a shite at times. Not much can be done about it. Named one of my first kids for you, another for your brother. Thought it might be nice to do.
Been having trouble sleeping. Been that way since the battle. Don’t know if you’ve been having trouble too. Worried it may be that monster done something to us. Or maybe just no longer having to fight monsters every day and I am not used to it. That must be it.
God be with you, Teddy. Hope to see you sometime soon. Maybe if we move up north we’ll stop by the church and see the Vigil.
-Aidan Callaghan
Dear Olivia
Sending our best. Started writing since little Mary Eliza started teaching me how to. Heard about that British captain surviving. Not so fond of them Brits, but I understand the pair of you were close. Heard you were planning on getting married, wanted to send congrad- cungr- wanted to say how happy we are to hear about it.
Kids are growing up fast. One of them is named for you. Want her to grow up to be strong like you were. Ain’t no lie, I’m a simple man. Never met any woman soldiers. Never thought woman were fit for it. But with you and the others in the Vigil, and the werewolves, I guess I was wrong. I hope my girls grow up strong like you and the other women.
Guess I started rambling. Best of wishes to you and that British fellow.
-Aidan Callaghan
Jonah
Hello, Jonah. It’s Aidan. We’re up north now, Fianna and me. They seem to be sticking with me and Cera. Helping us raise the kids. Little Jonah is getting real big. Oh, named one of my kids after you. Same for the others too. Wanted your names to live on after we all ((The letter trails stops here only to continue at the next paragraph))
Hope your family is growing nicely. Give Steffa our best. We’d like you to visit if you can. Or maybe we will if we can. Traveling real far is harder now, but maybe the other Fianna can watch the kids.
Hope your kids are well. Make sure they grow up strong. God bless you, lad.
-Aidan Callaghan
A letter placed into a bottle thrown into the water at the site of the battle against the thunderwyrm
Creed, Johan, Bridget, Eastern fellow and lady.
Don’t know if you all will ever get this message. Don’t even know if this will get to that place you are in. Don’t really understand that place, no matter how much the Fianna try and explain it. Trying to learn more. Been learning to write. Guess I’m not clever enough to get it though. Still, getting better.
Cera and I have a family now. Kids, lots of them. They’re all growing up strong. Smarter than me too.
I wrote you guys a poem. Good Irish poetry, none better. Told you I would, Johan.
If you see that big ugly gargoyle, tell him there ain’t nothing personal between us. Woulda cut him down back when we had that bit of mess with that vampire lady, but that wasn’t against him. He was a threat then, but he fought well against that wyrm thing. Tell him I wouldn’t mind fighting alongside him again if it comes to it.
We all miss you. Wish you would come back. Know you have a mission and all. Our prayers are with you. Maybe when you get back we can all go for drinks. Swap stories.
God be with you all.
-Aidan Callaghan
A poem carved into a stone slab left at the sight of the battle both in English and Irish
Through many battles fought
And many battles won
Together we stood and faced the shadow.
Side by side we sought
Monster and Hunter as one
To slay the common foe.
To those that were lost
To those that paid the cost
This monument shall stand
Until the world is sand.
Trí leor cathanna throid
Agus bhuaigh go leor cathanna
Le chéile sheas muid agus os comhair an scáth.
Taobh le taobh lorgaíomar
Ollphéist agus Lorgaire mar aon ní amháin
Chun maraigh an namhaid coiteann.
Dóibh siúd a bhí caillte
Dóibh siúd a d'íoc an costas
Beidh feidhm ag an séadchomhartha seasamh
Go dtí an domhain gaineamh.
Dear Steinar
Stone went through his first Change today. He’s the first to make the Change too. God be good, it was a scary one too. Never knew how it was with you people. He’s strong. McCalister, man I named him for and who trained me, would be proud. Wanted you to be the first I told. Outside the Fianna I mean. You’re like a hero to him, after all.
Hope you and your pack are doing well. I can’t exactly approve of how you’re living. You and that other lad. Not very Godly. Guess I ain’t one to talk there though, am I? Still, hope you’re all well. Give everyone our best.
We’re heading north. Gonna settle around where we started our journey, maybe a bit further up the coast. It’s fitting. More like home, too. Not ready to go back there yet. Unfinished business and all that. Still got work to do here. I’ll write again soon.
Gaia be with you, friend.
-Aidan
Savier
Heard you’re sticking with the Vigil. Good. Teddy will need your help. Ain’t never been too keen on you. Thought you were a bit of a coward. Being a Spaniard probably didn’t help much there. But in the end you didn’t run. Proud of that. Good man you are, Savier. You’ll do well with Teddy and the Vigil. You ever need help fighting anything, call on me. May not answer, but I’ll try. Bring the Fianna with me too if I can.
We’ll fight any threats that pop up if need be.
God be with you and the Vigil.
-Aidan
Merryl
Ain’t written you in a long time. Hope you and the other Bonegnawers are doing well. Fianna followed me up north. We’re staying around here. North of Massachusetts. Not a whole lot of our folks here, but maybe it’ll change. It’s like back home, which is nice. We’ve set up a settlement of our own in the woods here. Keeping to ourselves mostly.
Give Finn our best, same for the rest. Hope to see you folks sometime again. Maybe another big moot like that one after we killed those Spiral Dancer shites.
Go with Gaia.
-Aidan Callaghan
Lydia
Ain’t never like your kind. Brit or vampire. Never been any good for me or mine. But you fought well. You and your sorcery helped us. So thank you for that. Hoping one day you find your peace, return to God and all that. Best wishes to you. You and your friends showed me not all you monsters are the kind that took my first wife. Thank you for that. God bless you.
-Aidan
Liu Ling
Wanted to tell you thanks. Never been fond of your kind. But your magic helped us like Lydia’s did. Maybe more. Whatever it was you did, that healing shit and whatever that magic wall was. You and your kind may be monsters, but you helped us against the real danger. For that I’m grateful. So, God bless you.
-Aidan
Gianna
Been writing your kind. Thanking you all for fighting by our side. Probably wouldn’t have been able to fight as well as we did, maybe would have lost if you didn’t help us. You all did good in that fight. Thank you for that. Never thought I’d see someone use a crossbow as well as you did. God bless you.
-Aidan
Takki
You fought well. Whatever that bear thing was was impressive. Jonah certainly seemed to be a fan of it, that was quite the sight. Makes for a good tale for the kids, they enjoy it. Savage like you, and being a vampire monster, hard to trust. But you did well. So thank you for that. God be with you.
-Aidan
Jayita
Wanted to write to you. Apologize. We shouldn’t have left you and the others behind back then, when we first fought that vampire. It’s our fault what happened to you. I regret it. Think we all do. Not sure if there is forgiveness for it. Not looking for it. Just looking to get this off my chest. You proved yourself before you were turned and after when you joined us in that final battle. Thank you for that. And may God be with you whatever path you walk.
-Aidan
Teddy
It’s been years since I’ve seen you. Life is good here. We have a real town set up here now. Not easy, but good. Gave up fighting. Still fight monsters, I mean. But not fighting men anymore. Not good for me. Had to give it up.
Hope life is treating you well. Heard you spent time traveling the world. Hope that was good for you. Considered doing that myself. Too old for that now, I think. Too old for a lot of things now.
Still having nightmares though. About all the things we fought. See them sometimes at night. People we lost too. They keep looking at me. Haven’t talked to anyone else about it. I guess I don’t want them to worry or something. Don’t know why I’m telling you. Hoping you understand. Maybe you saw something like this in your travels, know what it’s about.
God be with you, Theodore. Not sure how many more letters I’ll be sending. So I’ll tell you here, you’re a good man, Teddy. It was an honor to work with you for all that time.
-Aidan
Father Paol
I think this may be the last letter I send, Father. Years ain’t been kind to me. I think I quit fighting too late. Tried to pay my penance. Killed a man in my last fight. Ain’t the first man I’ve killed. Not just the ones we fought for the Vigil, those monsters. Killed men back home in the ring. Thought it was behind me when I became a Hunter. Feeling his blood on my hands, it was wrong. Couldn’t fight anymore after that. Gave it all up then.
It’s been haunting me, Father. Everyone has been haunting me. Everyone we lost. Everyone we killed. Everyone I killed. Don’t know how much longer I can go on with this. Not sure how long I will. It’s all catching up to me, Father. Life we lead, hard on us. I think it was harder on me than most. Body is giving up on me.
Gonna need a priest soon, I’m thinking. Want you to come up, visit us. Be good to see familiar faces. Asking all the others too. Don’t know who will answer it, but I’d like you to. Mean a lot to me. Gonna have my remains taken home. Want you to bless them.
I know I ain’t been a good Catholic these years. Made my mistakes. I was wrong. Was too emotional. Acted like a stupid little boy back then. Always did probably. Want to apologize for my actions. Might be too late now. These ways, these old ways. My grandmother told me about them. Just stories back then, but living with these people, it’s a good way of life.
They’re my people, Father. My ways. Kept what I could to God. But I think my soul is going where these folks go. Don’t think it’s Hell. I know it’s what the Good Book tells us happens to pagans. But you and I, we’ve seen too much to think that now. My body will rest in good Christian lands, back home in Ireland. Next to my first wife. My soul is gonna be with Cera’s people though. With her when she joins me. Good that way, I think.
Sorry, Father. You’re probably disappointed in me for leaving the Church like I did. But having you say some words for me before I die would mean a lot. God be with you.
The life of Aidan Callaghan after the battle against the Thunderwyrm. More stories will come later with some of the letters he sends))
After the battle against the Thunderwyrm was ended and the survivors returned to the world, Aidan made his way to the Restored Caern, following the path of Steinar, Merryl, and Jonah. He joined with the Fianna, and his first act after finding their camp was to go to Cera, picking her up in a tremendous hug, spinning her about and kissing her, his emotions taking him over and inspiring him.
In the aftermath, Aidan found something in him changed, or more accurately, something in him was awakened. Between the desperate fighting and the exposure to the Umbra, the ancestry of the giant was realized, and it was discovered that the blood of werewolves ran within his veins. While his victory against the Wyrm and his wolfblooded genetics earned him great fame and respect among the Fianna, he never held a high rank as he was still only human.
Aidan married Cera in the wake of the celebrations. They had a small ceremony, with all of Aidan’s former companions invited. Before their honeymoon, Aidan went to Father Paol and asked for a second, private Catholic ceremony to be performed by the priest, though only the three knew if the ceremony happened.
After Aidan returned from his honeymoon, he went to Mary-Eliza. He asked for the girl to teach him how to read and write, hoping to finally overcome what he saw as his last weakness in life. He was a slow learner and a poor student, but he did learn. As he learned, he sent many letters to his former companions, even sending some to those vampires he had fought alongside against the Urge of Hatred. Over the years he improved greatly in skill, until any who read his words would never assume he was illiterate for much of his life. These letters continued, even when he received none in return.
Among the first books Aidan read was the journal left by his mentor, McCallister Stone. The book had been a source of much angst for the man, and he had often been troubled by the thought that it held secrets that could help his allies. With his studying of the entries held within, he learned his inner turmoil had been for naught. The journal was only a personal account of the deceased hunter’s life, with only simple information about the creatures he had fought. Rather than anger, Aidan reacted to the discovery with good humor. He decided to keep his own journal, and recorded all the knowledge he had accumulated in his travels.
As years passed, Aidan and Cera had many children. Their first children were named for the men and women Aidan fought alongside in the final battle, with those that came after being given the names of others Aidan had worked with during his time in the Colonies. Aidan took a very active role in raising his children. He taught them when he could, and made sure they grew up strong and ready for the world they lived in.
After some time, news of the American Revolution reached Aidan. He applauded those fighting the British, and spoke fondly of wishing to join the fight, though he never did. Between raising his many children and fighting alongside the Fianna garou, he had no time to take any sort of active or involved role in the rebellion against the Crown.
Though he never had the time to join the revolution, he did find time for his other passion, boxing. He joined any nearby prizefighting ring that would allow him, winning fame for his size and strength. While he did fight fiercely, he always did his best to not fight cruelly. He held himself back, occasionally to his own detriment, to avoid seriously hurting his opponents. Despite his efforts, the inevitable for a man his size and physical power happened and one of his opponents died during a fight.
The death devastated Aidan. He retired from fighting and gave the winnings he had earned from the fight to the family of the victim. He left human society behind after that, keeping to the Fianna that had become his family, his only contact with the outside world being the letters he sent to his friends.
Rumors began to circulate around nearby towns, tales about a giant who ran with a pack of wolves. The legends spoke of him carrying a massive sword that could cut down trees in a single swing. The tales told of him protecting and guiding travelers, keeping them safe from any monsters that lurked in the darkness and from criminals that stalked the innocent people walking the roads.
Aidan passed away many years later, at the age of sixty in 1800. He died peacefully, surrounded by his family and those surviving friends that were able to be at his side. He was cremated, and his ashes brought to Ireland to be spread in the field where his first wife had been buried.
Legends of a giant roaming the woods with wolves survived him, which became folktale that lasted for many decades. His legacy spread, and his children and grandchildren spread across the Americas, some following in his footsteps and living as Hunters, others building their own packs, and others still leading simple lives away from the supernatural world.
In which Aidan is really angry and doesn’t really handle his emotions like a healthy adult because he’s basically a manchild.))
Pain.
Pain was what Aidan Callaghan remembered the most from the night. Pain and a terrible roar before being trampled by a beast covered in iron.
And fear.
It had been a while since he had felt fear. Not since the cabin in the forest when they first met the monster that called itself “The Inquisitor” and his pet monstrosity. The second time he faced the foe he hadn’t been scared. He hadn’t feared the witches in the mist and he hadn’t feared the twisted werewolves in the corrupted den.
But things had changed. He had a future to see to now. Children of his own, and perhaps a wife in Cera. Not just something to fight for, but something to live for. He’d almost lost that when the monster struck him.
He blamed his allies for failing him in that battle and leaving him to fight alone. He blamed the enemy and their monstrous creation. He blamed the Society for failing to bring down the monsters. And he blamed himself for not getting out of the way of the assault.
Aidan Callaghan had nearly died then. Only luck had kept him alive. Not his allies, not the Church he had served all his life, and least of all not God. Deep down he knew that. He had been abandoned. Years of faith and nothing in return. Years of loyalty. Years of dedication to his faith. And for all of it, the Irish giant had only earned pain and suffering.
His first wife and children killed by a vampire. Where had been God? The disaster of Farthington, where had been God? Fighting the Inquisitor, when they fought at the Caern, when vampires had attacked the Society of Leopold, when the Vigil had liberated it with their unlikely allies, and when the hunters had battled the army under the creature Kruleas.
Aidan was furious. He felt the anger deep in his bones, eating away at his heart. It was threatening to overwhelm him and there was nothing he could do. He was still terribly wounded, and had yet more fighting to face. He didn’t know if he would leave the final fight alive.
Aidan looked at the small table beside his bed. There his scarce few possessions outside of his weapon and clothing sat. A small book, the journal kept by the man who had taught him, McCallister Stone. His wife, Deirdre’s, rosary. The two rings, his and Deirdre’s. He had little left that he didn’t plan to carry into battle. The rings and the book would survive him. He’d leave them with someone he could trust, someone that would bring them to Cera.
He picked up the rosary. He wouldn’t need it anymore. If he died, he wouldn’t be buried with it. He’d tell his allies to give his body to the garou, they were perhaps the closest to family he had now. If he lived, he would leave his friends, leave the Church, leave everything to start his new family. Live with the Fianna, live like his ancestors had even maybe. But God had left him, and so he would leave God.
That much he knew.
He’d write a letter. Have one written, he couldn’t write (the thought stoked the flames of his anger. Why, why, why had he never learned. The journal may have secrets that could have helped him). Find someone he could trust to write it, and bring it to Cera with the rings and the book. Maybe his children would learn to read, and learn to follow his path and be greater than he was. Use the journal and learn from it. Damn the others and damn everyone and everything that had failed him. Aidan had no more future with the Vigil, with the Church, anywhere but the Fianna. They were the only family for him now. He’d run away from everything else.
Away from the pain.
Away from the betrayal.
Away from abandonment.
He would leave them, and may God damn them all.
Aidan threw the rosary across the room, letting it clatter to the floor by the other bed in the room, the one Father Paol had used. Left there too gather dust, alone forever. He didn’t care anymore. He’d nearly died for his faith, wearing that rosary. He’d do his damnedest to survive without it, without his faith.
Vicious Irish murder machine, vampire hunter, and occasional coward, Aidan was brought to life by the fantastic crispycocoon (https://artistsnclients.com/people/crispycocoon)
A fantastic style and excellent job, well worth it.
Aidan gets his exercise running away from giant flesh monsters and evil vampires because he is scared of something actually bigger than him.)
Coward.
That’s what Aidan Callaghan was. Weak and afraid, he wasn’t a man. He was a child. Running in fear because he had seen something bigger than himself, something strong and terrible and an afront to God, and unlike an adult, unlike a man, he ran for safety. He ran and he ran and he wasn’t going to stop until his legs gave out underneath him.
His shoulder ached where the undead woman’s bullet had found him. Had her shot been better aimed, Aidan would be dead in that field back there. But being bigger and stronger and tougher had kept him standing even through the pain of the bullet in his body. Rage, too, had seen him through the worst of the pain, but rage only took a man, or a coward, so far.
Aidan ran.
Fear was a good motivator too, adrenaline from the sheer fight-or-flight terror kept his legs pumping, his arms swinging. But the pain was starting to bubble to the surface. The pain from the bite on his leg, too, was rising to the surface. The beast, the hellish animal that the vampires had set on the Hunters, had taken a chunk of flesh from his thigh. He could feel the wet blood soaking his pants and starting to seep into his boots.
Behind him he could hear shouting. He could hear screaming too. Not everyone was going to make it. Several others had collapsed before he had even made it to the edge of the field around that little shack. Perhaps he could have gone back for them. Perhaps they could have stood and fought. They may have stood a chance. But it was too late for such thought. Such worries were the concerns of men. Not cowards. Cowards should only concern themselves with themselves. That was how it should be.
Aidan ran.
He cursed himself. His grandfather would be ashamed to know such a coward had come of his blood, where he still alive. His father would no doubt have beaten him if he had witnessed his shameful behavior. He was a son of Ireland. It was his duty to stand and fight. His ancestors would have charged the foe in waves, beating them down with crude iron, or with clubs, or with their fists if they had too. They wouldn’t need giant steel blades or muskets. They would win victory over that evil or die with honor.
Aidan had no honor. He was bigger, his grandmother had told him the blood of giants was in his veins, that far back some ancestor had lain with one of the mythical beasts and that was why he was so big. But giants where fearsome, not fearful. There was no giant’s blood in him. Just fear.
Aidan ran.
He looked over his shoulder, to see who was still there. It was dark, but he could make out some of the remaining party. Who had fallen?
He hadn’t seen what happened to the dark girl. He had run in another direction, followed by the abomination. She was most likely dead now. The knight, the English bastard who had more honor, more bravery than Aidan, damn him, he had stayed behind, or at least fallen behind. If it was his armor, or his honor, or just poor luck, he had fallen too. Tommy, Theodore’s brother had been surrounded by flames he had called forth like a dragon. Both of them had done it. Where they in league with the Devil? It seemed possible, Theodore was always making blasphemous talk. Antoinette had nearly made it free, along with the Indians, but they were no longer visible. Had they been taken? Would they survive and escape? Or would they die? Or worse? Dead or turned, it was the same, they were lost for good.
Aidan started to wish, to pray that they would be strong and resist the temptation to turn from the light of God and to not fall to the embrace of evil. But what good where his prayers? He was a coward, why should God, who sent his own son to die to save us, spare even a passing thought for a man too frightened, too weak, too selfish to even try and save others from evil.
Aidan ran.
He could feel it now. His legs felt like lead. His pace was slowing.
Where they safe?
He didn’t know. He kept running. He’d run all the way back to Ireland if he had to.
Aidan ran.
“You’re a coward, Aidan. You always were.”
The voice was a whisper in Aidan’s ear, but he could see no one close enough to have spoken so closely. He was about to ignore it, assuming it was his own thoughts given voice through his lips by his subconscious. But then the voice came again.
“Always running. Never could face a fair fight. Weak and pathetic is all you are, a weak little coward running away from the big scary monster. How dare you call yourself a son of Ireland.”
Aidan clenched his hands until his nails bit into his palms and he felt blood leaking into his fists. He wasn’t. He wasn’t a coward, he wasn’t weak. He was a true son of Ireland. Had he not fought already? Had he not shown his courage in Portugal under the command of the English tyrants that occupied his home. Had he not shown his courage charging a vampire only a few days prior?
“So brave you can’t even face home again. What courage did you show fighting?”
Aidan growled a curse under his breath. The voice was right. When Petey McManus, a boy he’d grown up with, gone to church with, had been cut in two by a cannon shot, Aidan had tripped in fright. Pissed himself. He hadn’t gotten back up until the echoing thunder of guns and trumpets had turned to echoes in the distance. And the next battle, when Johnny Murphy had taken a musket ball to the neck. Blood had sprayed over Aidan’s face. Johnny fell screaming, a hand clutched to the wound in vain. Aidan hadn’t tripped then, but he had pissed himself again. The crowd pressed him forward. Anger too, that time.
“But not courage”
Out of the corner of his eye Aidan thought he saw McCallister Stone stumbling through the mist and vomiting. Just a trick of the mind. Forget him. He’s dead and feeding the fish. Forget him. Forget.
“Always a coward, Aidan.”
No.
Aidan’s feet pounded the earth. His fists swung, carrying him forward. It had been better to run and live. They could fight their foe again, on their own terms instead of dying like dogs and being turned to twisted monsters in service of the legions of Hell. There was no honor or valor in such a death. Just shame and damnation.
“I’m no coward.” Aidan said with a snarl. A sound, a voice perhaps, drifted to his ears. A whisper on the wind that sounded like laughter.
