Eric Cantor, Priest
The pilgrim village's priest, who always enjoys company - especially if they play chess.
Somewhere in his early thirties, the priest is of an unremarkable height and build while wearing deeper smile lines on his face than you might expect from someone his age. A small gold cross is worn on a necklace, sandals protect his feet from the earth and his robes are slightly thicker than usual so as to compensate for the unforgiving New England winters. He also carries a locket with a humble painting of the virgin Mary inside, which he considers good luck even if that idea doesn’t entirely jive with his belief system.
Despite being among the famously humorless pilgrims of New England, Father Cantor is happiest when chatting and eating in a group. He enjoys telling stories even when he isn’t at the pulpit and is treated with good humor by anyone who gets to know him.
Curiously, he has something of a compulsion with taking vows. They are all serious to him and Eric can be trusted to complete them but…well…he’ll “vow” to take a simple message to a fellow pilgrim or he’ll “vow” to feed someone’s cat while they’re away on a fishing voyage. Something about this just makes him more endearing to all but the most pragmatic and stern members of the town.
When he’s not serving the more conventional roles of the priest, Eric likes to relax by riding his pony (“Longshanks”) in the countryside, playing chess or by pecking away at an illuminated history of the town. He’s not the best at illumination, to be honest, but he loves it all the same.
Eric was actually a replacement for the more traditional (i.e. fire and brimstone, jokes are a waste of time etc) pilgrim pastor the town used to have. When that pastor was killed in a conflict with some Native Americans the village displaced, the Governor wouldn’t stand to have even a single Sunday sermon missed. It was this urgency to find a replacement that led to someone so very out of the pilgrim character to be chosen.
Knowing his clerical rank protects him, Eric is quietly bemused at the stern lifestyle of the pilgrims and has done his best to respectfully breath a little warmth into their way of life. A good nature doesn’t indicate a fool, though. Remembering how he got the job in the first place, Eric keeps a wheel lock pistol in a safely locked cabinet, just in case any more Native Americans come by with their blood up.
Not a man for hurting or killing needlessly, Eric understands and even goes along with the witch hunting craze – to a point. One of the few ways he’ll come into conflict with the Governor is by demanding for further, more carefully established evidence of witch-hood. He is certainly savvy to how some women are deemed witches purely as a way of resolving personal disputes or the like. But if all the pieces seem to be in order then Eric will be right up there saying the appropriate prayers as townspeople throw kindling on the fire.