Fergus Eamonn McDonough

Dark Chicago    The Usual Suspects    People    Citizens      River Rat

Description

River Rat looks like something the river coughed up—and maybe it did. Wiry, filthy, and half-soaked most days, he haunts the banks and storm drains near the South Branch like a ghost who never left town. His clothes are a patchwork of burlap, oilcloth, and whatever he could fish out of a laundry line. Mud cakes his beard, his nails are black, and his breath carries the rot of old fish and river funk. But beneath the grime and growl, those bright blue eyes cut through the noise like glass on a bottle edge. People laugh at him—until he starts telling them things they shouldn’t know.

Personality

River Rat is unpredictable, half-drunk on river spirits and half-tethered to something deeper. One minute he’s raving about currents and fish gods, the next he’s quoting Yeats or muttering warnings no sane man would understand. He’s not dumb—just cracked. He remembers things no one told him and sometimes speaks truths in riddles that make sense a week later. He doesn’t care about money, power, or politics. He cares about balance. And the river.

Habits

Drinks from a rusted flask filled with something thick and greenish
Collects bones from riverbanks and paints them with soot and river mud
Hums old folk songs no one’s heard since the famine years
Talks to the water like it answers back—and sometimes stops like it just did

Hooks & Angles

Water Whispers: River Rat knows things. Things dropped in water, things buried under bridges. He speaks for the river—if you can decode it.
Thin Place: His shack by the banks isn’t always in the same place. Some say it vanishes during the full moon. Others say that’s when it’s safest to visit.
Old Blood: Fergus comes from a line of Irish water seers—drowned saints, mad poets, hedge witches. What flows in his veins might not be entirely human anymore.
Tethered Favor: He once saved a PC’s life—or cursed it—and hasn’t forgotten. He might call in a debt no one remembers making.

Poetic Riddles

1. “In the muck where the dead dreams sleep, a silver thread runs dark and deep. Find its end, if courage you keep—but beware the watcher that does not weep.”
2. “The crooked beast wears a crown of bone; its court lies beneath the slaughtered throne. Find the gate where shadows moan, but tread softly, or you’ll atone.”
3. “They come with horns, they come with claws; they twist the world, they break its laws. In still waters, their hunger gnaws—beware the whispers in the pause.”
4. “Follow the path where the reeds grow tall; the air is thick, the shadows crawl. At the end, you’ll hear a call—but is it warning, or your fall?”
5. “The river knows what men forget; it keeps its secrets, it counts its debt. Pay the toll, but mind the net—for what it takes, it does not let.”
6. “Three hands work to hide the prize: one tells truths, and one tells lies. The last is silent, full of sighs—beware the hand with hollow eyes.”

Drunken Ramblings

1. “The river don’t just carry water, no sir—carries memories, too. Some bad, some worse, and some? Well, some ain’t even yours to carry.”
2. “Once saw a pig with two heads and a tail like a snake. ‘Course, that was before I stopped drinking moonshine. Didn’t stop the nightmares, though.”
3. “You ever see a crawfish the size of a dog? No? Lucky you. It saw me, though, and it remembered.”
4. “The creek ain’t alive, not like you and me—but it’s got a soul, sure as sin. A mean one. It don’t like visitors much.”
5. “The stockyards? Hah! More like the devil’s own kitchen. You think men run that place? Nah, it’s the blood—blood runs it all.”
6. “The Cult of the Crooked Horn? Yeah, I heard of ’em. Lotta whispers. But you ask me? The river don’t whisper about ‘em—it screams.”

Year of Birth

1898 CE 55 Years old

Birthplace

County Limerick, Ireland

Eyes

Piercing blue with a glassy, unsettling clarity

Hair

Wild and gray, tangled with twigs and riverweed, matted around his ears

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

Sun-beaten and river-rough, streaked with grime and often bleeding from minor scrapes

Height

5'10"

Weight

143 lbs.

Belief/Deity

Claims the river is his only god, but sometimes quotes the Psalms in Irish

Related Historical Events

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