In the D&D campaigns of my youth many players and parties made up of the PCs of those players who were available that session were the norm. Gradually my style of play shifted to a smaller group of players who played regularly. This tended to promote two different styles of campaign. The single group of PCs who were closely linked and a troupe style of play where each player had multiple PCs and they selected the PC or PCs who were most fitting for the anticipated activity.
One expectation of the D&D campaigns was that little rationale was necessary for why a new PC was accompanying the party. Everyone knew that, from an out of game perspective, Dave's PC was there because Dave was there and he needed to play some character to have any fun that night. As the PCs became part of an established group or troupe of associated characters - like the crew of a starship - more explanation was needed in game to justify why Dave's PC was joining an established group. Which is a long introduction to an example of the justification I used to introduce a new PC, Father Signoret, to my Honor+Intrigue campaign. Note that Father Signoret's cousin, Guy de Bourges is one of the campaign's original PCs.
Ad maiorem Dei gloriam!
By the flickering
candlelight, the dark clad figure moved precisely over the geometric symbols
chalked out on the old basement floor. If not for the sword held lightly in one
hand, one might have thought the figure was practicing some new style of
ballet. But the dancelike circular movements were part of La Verdadera Destreza
– the True Art or as some called it, the Spanish style – whose precepts are
based on reason, geometry, and the writings of classical authors such as
Aristotle, Euclid, and Plato. A style perfectly suited to a Jesuit-trained
scholar of the classics. At least so Father Gaétan Signoret said to those
within his order who criticized his fascination with the True Art. But even
this momentary break from the focused concentration required to perfectly
perform the precise movements, caused an awareness of other
sensations that came in a sudden rush: the trickle of sweat down his chest and
back despite the cold of the basement, the heaviness in his arms and legs from
long exercise, the smell of burning animal fat in the cheap tallow candles that
were all he allowed himself for his exercises, and the sound of his deep, but
even breathing…Not just my breathing,
someone else is in the room with me. He turned quickly, but fluidly,
letting blade lead arm, body, legs, and feet. He was not alone. Down the three foot length of steel he saw the
startled gaze of his mentor and friend, Denis Petau or Dionysius Petavius, the
Latinization of his name that he preferred for teaching and for scholarly
debate. Dionysius Petavius was one of the most brilliant scholars in a learned
age and a member of the Societas Iesu, the Jesuit Order.
“Gaétan, Gaétan,
always this fascination with the sword. I had hoped to find you reading the
works of the ancients or the Scriptural Exercises.” Gaétan smiled somewhat
sheepishly. “Well you must set your sword aside for now. The Provincial Father
wants to see you. In his office. Now.” Petavius had taught Gaétan theology when
he first began his studies back in Bourges. It was Petavius that opened his
eyes to the cut and thrust of intellectual debate. If not for his mentor,
Gaétan would never have become a Jesuit. Like most of his social class, he
would have remained a practically unlettered aficionado of the hunt or the
sword. Not that Gaétan didn’t enjoy the hunt or the sword, but those physical
activities did not circumscribe a world view which had grown to include
Church theology and history as well as the brilliance of ancient thinkers such
as Plato, Aristotle, and Euclid and which was enforced with the rigid
discipline and self-abnegation central to the life of a Jesuit.
“Of course,” he said
as he bowed his head in acknowledgement, then he gestured with his rapier. “I
suppose I had better leave this until after I have seen the Provincial Father.
What is it he wants?”
“The Provincial
Father did not see fit to explain his reasons to me, Gaétan. Nor did he expect
you would need a reason beyond his summons.”
“Of course Father. I
was only curious.”
“Curiosity is a good
thing in a scholar, Gaétan. But our curiosity must always be tempered by our
obedience.”
When Gaétan entered
the office of the Provincial Father, the first face that he saw was that of
Louis Cellot. The Provincial Father was an intelligent, kindly looking man He
was a respected scholar of the humanities, a theological writer of some note, a
dramatist and poet, and possibly the most powerful member of the Order after
Muzio Vitelleschi the Superior General of the Society of Jesus back in Rome
itself. Gaétan was surprised to see that the Provincial Father was not alone.
There were three other men in the room all of them dressed in clerical garb.
One was a man of about forty years of age with the look of a scholar. He spoke
French fluently but with a slight accent, possibly German. He introduced the
younger man sitting next to him as Jan-Karel. The other was perhaps fifteen
years younger. Since he was only in his mid-twenties it was likely that he had
not yet taken his final vows. Most
members are not as precocious as I am. Jan-Karel spoke with a most
pronounced accent, but not one that Gaétan could place. The third man was the
most mystifying. He wore a monk’s brown robe but his face was concealed by a black
cloth mask. Of the three, he was the only one that the Provincial Father
introduced, calling him Père Noir. Gaétan smiled to himself as he thought, No doubt Petavius would say I’m leaping to
conclusions, but I suspect that the masked one’s true name is not Father Black.
The really odd thing is it seems like even the Provincial Father is deferring
to this Père Noir.
Initially the man
known as Jan-Karel did most of the talking and his conversation was all about
one thing, something he called the DaVinci Codex. It was some minutes before
Gaétan figured out Jan-Karel meant some sort of book. He certainly talks a lot without really coming near to any sort of
point one can actually understand. Apparently the author of this book was
someone named DaVinci – Wasn’t he a
painter or sculptor or something? And the book itself was thought to pose
some great danger. According to Jan-Karel, the book contained the plans for
some sort of machine. Maybe a war
machine? Neither Jan-Karel nor the older scholar really explained what the
machine was for nor what was so dangerous about an old book or the machine it described. I wonder if this would make more sense if
they both spoke in Latin?
Perhaps Père Noir
sensed that Gaétan was finding the conversation confusing. In any event, he
interrupted somewhat abruptly, “Thank you both. Father Signoret is not an
engineer nor a geometer, so I think that is enough of the scholarly details
for now. I will tell you what you need to know. This book contains a kind of
knowledge that the world has not seen for many ages. And like the fruit of
the tree of knowledge as described in Genesis, this is knowledge that man is
not meant to have. Therefore, we must prevent Adam from eating of this fruit
lest all chance of salvation be lost. This knowledge cannot be released into
the world and most especially, it cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of
the Dutch, English, and German heretics nor of the infidel Turks. Your
mission, Father is to ensure that it does not, by bringing the Codex to the
Order. As God’s True Soldiers only we can be trusted to keep this knowledge
from the wrong hands.” Gaétan noticed that Père Noir spoke quietly and
without a trace of accent, but his voice vibrated with passion and intensity.
This Père Noir is a very determined
man.
“Father
Gaétan Signoret, you are directed to find out the current location of the
Codex. Do not risk it falling into the wrong hands by being too ambitious or
too foolhardy. Better to communicate its location and let us handle its
recovery. However, should a safe and certain opportunity present itself, then
you will act for the Glory of God. The Codex was last known to be in the
possession of your cousin, Guy de Bourges. Father Signoret, do not fail the
Order. You act for the Greater Glory of God. Your orders come directly from
your own Provincial Father, is that not correct, Provincial Father?”
Louis Cellot, spoke,
“Yes. That is correct. Father Signoret, you are ordered to act as Père Noir has
directed. Ad maiorem Dei gloriam!”
After evening
prayers, Father Signoret pondered this new mission. My cousin is too clever to be easily deceived. I need a plausible
reason to spend time with him so that I may observe him and his friends and
from that learn something of the whereabouts of this Codex. The Jesuit order
allows us to go about the world, perhaps I can suggest an expansion of that rule.
Yes. I think that may do the trick.
Therefore on Sunday,
Signoret arranged to be at the church in Paris where his cousin Guy usually went to hear
the Mass. Afterwards, he told his cousin of his new “vocation” to engage with
the world of adventure and practice his skills “for the greater glory of God.”
Then he asked Guy’s help in this mission and to introduce him to any
adventurous friends that Guy may have.
“I may know one or
two.” Guys said with a faint smile. Guy suggested that the two cousins should meet at the Les
Deux Chevaux tavern that Thursday night so that Guy could
introduce his cousin to his friends.
