Play@YSDC

"Good morning, Father," says William. "Thank you, we'll be staying about a week. I understand you've only been in Johnson Bayou a couple of months. Maybe you could give us a newcomer's perspective. Where did you come from before?"

Psychology roll (67% skill) about Father Ortega:
d%

William has no reason the doubt the Father.

”I was briefly attached to a church in Baton Rouge, before the position came open here. Prior to that, I was in a seminary in New Mexico,” he replied. “As for Johnson Bayou,” - he turned and smiled at the shopkeeper - “Like, Bart here, I have found the people to be friendly and welcoming for the most part. Some of the local oilmen can be a trifle course, however. I have spoken to their foremen, but I do hope you are not easily offended.”

"I'm not," says William. "Are you the only new arrival, or are there others?"

Father Ortega glanced at Bart with a quizzical look. The shopkeeper shrugged and said, ”No one else but you, Father.”

”I haven’t seen anyone new at my services,” said Ortega. ”Well, not since the oilmen were invited the second Sunday I was here. Between ill-temper and the after effects of moonshine, it was a memorable service for all the wrong reasons. I’ve agreed with their foreman that it’s probably better for all concerned not to encourage them to attend en masse again.”

"At least now you have some more newcomers to welcome," Ivy says, gripping Alex's arm a little tighter than is strictly necessary.

"My husband and I are keen explorers of out of the way places and seekers of obscure folklore and - and I mean this in a positive way - your charming village is both out of the way and obscure!"

She smiles tightly at Bart and the good reverend in turn.

"We look forward to hearing many a quaint tale."

Alex winces at Ivy's grip, a bit taken aback by how friendly the normally blunt woman is being.

Still, he figures she has the right idea, and nods. "Indeed! Sometimes the most interesting stories can be found in these out of the way places. I am sure there are some interesting landmarks to be found around here as well."

"You mentioned tourist season," Alex asks Bart. "Do you get many out here? Seems a unique area, if nothing else."

"What time are services tonight?" asks William.

”Tonight’s service will be at seven ‘o’ clock,” replied Father Ortega. ”No folklore or superstition, just the word of the Lord, but you’d be more than welcome to join us.”

Bart waited for the Father to finish speaking, then said, ”Tourists are rare around these part, it’s true. Since they struck oil, the area ain’t so pretty to come an visit no more. We get people people coming to hunt and fish over the season, but that’s almost at an end now. Really just ducks left.”

”We used to have an Indian burial ground, but that got relocated when the oilers moved in.”

"Where was the old burial ground?" asks William, who is sure no good can come from disturbing it.

”It’s where the the oil pits are now, about a mile down the coast. Not many of the old Indians around now but they kicked up an almighty fuss when the oil company wanted to move in,” said Bart. ”The Indians didn’t own the land no more so they couldn’t stop it happening but the oil company didn’t want any bad publicity so they arranged for the site to be dug up and moved down the road. Nashoba - he’s the local chief - didn’t like it, but money talks.”

The door opened behind him and a youngster of about fourteen entered. ”Finished your chores, Ephraim?” he asked, and the boy nodded in return. ”In which case, you take take these good folks up the Mrs Hebert’s. They’re needing somewhere to stay and she’s still got those rooms she lets out. Ok?” The boy nodded again and came around the counter to pick up their suitcases, while Father Ortega held the door open for them. ”I’ll hopefully see you at church tonight,” he said as they left.

Mrs Hebert’s home was an impressive, colonial-era house about a five minute walk down the road. Painted white, it stood out against the surrounding garden, that appeared to be well-tended, with a sizeable vegetable patch off to one side. Closer up, however, it was clearly in need of work as some of the timbers showed signs of decay and the paint was peeling in places. Mrs Hebert - a slender woman of around 40 with grey-streaked brown hair - was obviously surprised to receive visitors so early but thanked Ephraim for bringing them, then sent her her daughters to air the guest rooms while she made coffee for the new arrivals.

”I have one double room and two twin rooms,” she said, as she poured coffee for her guests in the lounge. ”The rooms are a dollar a night. Are you planning on staying long?”

"Oh, a week or so. We're mostly going to be doing some sightseeing of the local area, but if you'd like us to help out with any chores around here, please don't hesitate to ask." He assumes the rest of the group will be alright with this, perhaps naively.

"Yes, we would be happy to help," says Ivy with a tight smile. "And my husband and I will take the double room of course."

”That’s very kind of you,” replied Mrs Hebert with a smile. ”My husband is working away and there are one or two things that the girls and I just can’t reach so I would be mightily obliged for a helping hand.”

”Were there any particular sights that you were interested in seeing?”

"I'd be interested in meeting the Indians, and I'd be happy to help out too," says William. He turns to Lawrence. "Shall we share a twin room?"

"May as well." Lawrence shrugs. Nyatanga and his group had clearly hidden themselves well, here, but Lawrence was all but accustomed with the idea that nothing could ever be as it seemed, not even life itself. May as well keep a low profile and an open eye, for now.
"I can help around your house, myself; I'm good with machines, all kinds."

"We also heard Father Daigle recently retired. Is he still in the area? I figure an old timer such as him must have some interesting stories." In truth, Alex figured such a man was likely to be unaffiliated with the cult, having presumingly served here a long time. If anyone were to have suspicions about the area, it would be him.

”You’ll find Father Daigle at the presbytery. He’s due to move to Lake Charles to live with his brother next month and Father Ortega has kindly agreed to let him stay until his move comes through,” said Mrs Hebert.

”As for Nashoba, when he’s sober, you’ll find him wandering around the town. You can’t really miss him; he still wears his traditional clothes.” She pursed her lips. She clearly disapproved of his lifestyle choices…

"We should visit Father Daigle first," pronounces Ivy. "Before he leaves town."

Mrs Hebert laughed gently. ”He won’t be going for a few weeks yet,” she said. ”I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to meet him.”

"He'll probably be at the services tonight too," says William. "He'd still be attending, even if he isn't leading them any more."