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Fallout3: Colin Moriarty. The Man, the Beard, the Mouth

For those who have not played nor completed the game, this thesis does contain spoilers regarding certain main and/or side quests. Proceed only with that understanding.

Table of Contents:
Wet Behind the Ears
Siren and Garfunkel
The Man, the Beard, the Mouth
Password: Swordfish
Silver Lying Behind every Cloud
Twilight: 2277


I wish to start this proposal with a quote.

Once you start asking questions, innocence is gone. â" Mary Astor

Occasionally I become weary and tired of the continuous battle across the worlds in the Starcraft2, 1âs ladder contention. Constantly grinding out build orders, macro-ing, and micro-ing my little fingers to soreness; I take a step back, breathe, and play a different game to settle and ease my mind from the ferocity of battle by⦠playing another violent computer game. In this circumstance, I have devoted my off time to one of Bethesdaâs franchised worlds of Fallout3.

Typically, the fast pace movements and frames per second in a first person shooter trigger minor photosensitive reactions, commonly known as seizures without the epileptic attacks. From the sweating, to the queasiness of the stomach, from the unfocused eyes, to the brief moments of incoherent-ness of personal surroundings, my issues are nothing to complain about compared to those who fall unwillingly to the ground in an uncontrollable shake of limbs and possible split wigs on the way down. Fortunately, for me, Fallout3 can be played for a few short hours before I need to take a break to walk around and stretch the eyes.
Someone has been playing Quake Arena in a poorly lit room for 8 hours straight.

During my first tour through Iraq in 2007, my comrades and I took up the struggle of Fallout3 in our spare time. We enjoyed sharing our experiences of the NPCâs we talked to or exploring new and uncharted territories while fighting Super Mutants and Raiders; much like our daily real-life tasks. In retrospect, playing a game extremely similar to our then current surroundings is probably a debate for some underground think-tank of psychological professors trying to comprehend the human psyche. I am digressing, for those who are content to the Americas or are not fond of traveling abroad through uncertain dangers, let me rest assure you, the country sides and ruined cities of Iraq parallel the landscapes and feel of Fallout3. That is: the constant danger, the illnesses, the rubble, the soiled and tattered clothes, the wanderers and barters, the unsuitable food, and last but not least, everything trying to kill and eat you.
Can you tell the difference?

I have since then, from time to time, picked up Fallout3 exploring areas not yet seen, engaging monsters and enemies not yet conquered, and creating characters not yet designed. Spending hours crafting a perfect build that suits my style of game play, fromLast, Best Hope of Humanity to Scourge of Humanity, it is tedious but rewarding. While this game has left me with many more questions than answers, the lore provided by the Devs can only reach so far and answer so much. Of all the NPCâs, of all the little secrets and stories spread throughout the game, there was only one character my provocative questions came back to, a Mr. Colin Moriarty. Who is this man? What was his angle? What was his role in this multi-verse of sequentially stacked quests and why was he the most hated man in all of Megaton?

Name: Moriarty, Colin
Age: 50
Birth year: 2227
Race: Human- Caucasian
Family: Moriarty Senior (Deceased)
Karma: Neutral
History: When 14 years of age, Raiders attacked the then unfenced Megaton, killing his father and thus inheriting his wealth. As much as the town seems to dislike the man, they are in perpetual need of his resources and services.
Rumors: Andy Stahl, brother of Leo and Jenny Stahl, alleges that Moriarty urinates in the barâs still.
âHey, maybe I should put that on the sign out front. The Brass Lantern: Cleaner, safer, and less likely to have piss in the drinks!â â" Stahl, Andy
Game Guide: The game recognizes that Moriarty is neutral and in killing him you receive negative karma.
The man in the fleshâ¦errâ¦hypothetically speaking of course.

Wet Behind the Ears

I decided to begin my quest for knowledge at the local Best Buy. I knew that they would have at least one shelf devoted to computer games and possibly some strategy guides. I was not going to Best Buy just for the sake of knowledge. I had to acquire a SATA cable for another venture which I had under construction. After struggling to describe to an employee that worked in the computer department what a SATA cable was, and searching for ten minutes in said department, I put that quest on the backburner and attempted to find a Fallout3 strategy guide. Needless to further this dead end story, the quests were utter failures. I should have just stuck to the good olâ interwebs for information, and with a heavy sigh of acknowledgement, I would be buying my SATA cable from the more overpriced, Radio Shack.
âWe donât knoeâ¦.we jest work hear!â

It was time to get my feet wet! After grinding through the avatar creation suite, and pushing through Vault 101, I was unequivocally free to expand my horizons and reconnoitre the vast world Bethesda has rendered before me. I peered through the not so distant fog of war and beheld a strange looking sight. It was not quite a building, rather an erected structure of debris. Curiosity kicked in, and I was off! Not paying any mind to the Enclave eye-bot spewing its redundant garbage, I quickly made my way to Megaton with greetings from a friendly security robot, Deputy Weld, and a beggar who insists on sitting on his duff the entire length of the game asking for handouts. Strangely comparable to constantly feeding wild animals thus becoming dependent on contributions much like todayâs Welfare recipients.
Why yes sir, I would like to come in for a spot of tea!

I made my way into Megaton and was promptly greeted by the townâs sheriff, Lucas Simms. We chatted about the weather and the townâs people and their services. I lightly approached the subject of one, Mr. Moriarty, and inquired about the manâs integrity. âKnowing the beast before the battleâ, is the first step to victory. The Sheriff strictly educated me that, Mr. Moriarty, was not my friend. In addition, he certainly was not to be trusted under even the most dire of circumstances. He told me that Moriarty ran illicit activities from his saloon. But who were we to judge? Everyone from the town partook in his commodities from time to time. It appeared to me the kettle was calling the pot, black. Nonetheless, could I trust Simms? He was the Sheriff undeniably; the citizens must have confidence in the man that stood before me.
If bias were butter, my toast would certainly be soggy.

Shortly, I was directed to Mr. Moriartyâs Saloon. I had questions that needed answering! Unlike many of the randomly generated NPCâs in the game, to which there was no story other than what could be hypothesized by the manâs or womanâs personal effects, not only could you speak with Mr. Moriarty you could communicate with others in the municipality about him. In fact, you may hack his personal terminal and ascertain what really was in this bullheaded manâs mind. That was precisely what I intend to do!
Who was this man? Was he a farmer, an electrician, possibly a slave, or maybe a once highly respected scientist from the Common Wealth set on a spiritual journey across the waste? Despite only having a few caps, a tin can, soiled clothes, and a stimpak, we may never know.

Siren and Garfunkel

I strolled into the bar and pulled up a seat. I looked around the room and saw an extremely disfigured individual, an executive undoubtedly doing the evil will of some big evil corporation (to later find this essentially was correct), a random man wearing a motorcycle helmet crying over his beer in a drunken stupor, and an exceptionally attractive young lady winking at me while playfully puffing on her cigarette.
âThe feeling is mutual, Iâm sure.â

The disfigured man came up to me and asked if I wanted a drink. Politely looking both down and away, as not to bring attention to the obvious fact of his face melting from his face, I said, âsure my good man, whatâs your name?â Surprised and filled with what I believe was all the joy the poor man could muster, gleefully replied, âYouâre not going to hit me?â Of course not, I was not going to bite the hand that fed me my booze! Gob and I quickly became friends. I tipped him handsomely.

We got to talking a little more and seemingly, Moriarty had been much harsher on him as of late. Furthermore, he was not free to leave the saloon until he paid off his debt. I did not press the issue of said debt, we only just became BFFâs (Best friends forever). The conversation died down and I could no longer ignore the female ogling at me from the corner.

I walked over to the woman and introduced myself. Her name was Nova and she brazenly told me of her profession. Needless to say, I was not in need of her services at that moment. Equitably she was still a human and there was no need to belittle her. For I was the one in need of information and I treated her with the same respect she showed me.

She reaffirmed that Moriarty was harsh on everyone but especially hard on Gob. She had her reasons as to why, but continued. She let me in on Gobâs little undisclosed debt. Apparently, Mr. Moriarty had bought Gob from a group of traveling Slavers, give or take fifteen years ago. For what amount I could only postulate. She also expressed, sorrowfully, that Gog receives beatings but it was unclear as to whether Moriarty or the patrons dished the thrashings.
There is a Basilisk stirring in my pants. Iâm seriously you guys.

The Man, the Beard, the Mouth

When I first met him, he was polite and offered me his âlittle slice of heavenâ so long as I had the caps. I asked him what he did around the town, first he told me to âstay the **** out my businessâ followed by âI keep the yokels knee deep in booze and poonâ. After further inquiry, he essentially owns a saloon but that much we already distinguished.

He offered me a free piece from the rumor-mill, and told me about Lucy West. She was a âpretty young thingâ and was afraid. Of what exactly, he did not know? However, he âcould feel the fear on her.â For however cryptic and ambiguous this may have been, I knew that this would come back to me, haunting, demanding to be addressed. Nevertheless, to the back of my mind it would stay reserved.

We continued. I had to ask him about my father. Suspiciously, he had gone missing while I was frolicking about Vault 101. Moriarty told me that I had been lied to by everyone and their mothers. That my father, James, had affiliations with and was a sympathizer to, the Brotherhood of Steel. More importantly that my father had come and gone and was on a grand mission for something that remained vague and that his whereabouts required a nominal monetary donation. Arguing ensued and it appeared to me that he knew more about my father and I, than I knew myself. I could not so suddenly accept these actualities; I was overwhelmed with these blunt statements. How could they be true!? No, it was not! There was no way I could have been lied to. No, way?
âWhat if I told you that what you thought you knew wasnât really what you think at all. Rather what you thought you knew is only what you used to think you knew but now what you know is a lie. Do you know what I mean?

Our disagreements continued, but much to his good graces, he decided to offer me temporary employment for the particular information that I requested. He spoke of a junkie he once knew and that she had stolen caps from him after a deal went sour. He simply requested that I retrieve the caps for him and I could use them to compensate for the wisdom that I sought. I reluctantly accepted.

Password: Swordfish

Before I set off to pursue this so-called junkie, I wanted to know if perhaps Moriarty had some confidential information that I could use to my benefit. With a small piece of paper and a stolen pen, I could only write the long and short of Mr. Moriartyâs journal. I now could finally attempt to comprehend what was flowing through that jerkâs psyche.
Uber 1337 haxâing skillz.

I first tapped into the Visitors menu to see if there was anything whatsoever regarding my old man. Sure enough, I had struck gold! James had asked Mr. Moriarty what the currents events were and was then pointed in the direction of GNR (Galaxy News Radio) and a man hailing as, Three-Dog. Unfortunately, James left as fast as he came. I would have to scoop him up another time; right now, my priority was with Colin. Alas! Moriarty was speaking the truth, I so ignorantly rebuked in his face, and I now had egg all over mine. The entire Vault 101 was a facade and my world was crumbling down before my feet. I owed this man an apology.

A mysterious wanderer traveled by and visited the saloon. It spooked Colin enough to leave him alone. He paid for his drinks and Moriarty was pleased.

Next I ventured into the Residence section on the terminal. I already struck a home run with information pertaining to my father, what data could I pick up next?

Andy Stahl - Evidently him and his family opened a food and bar joint across town. This newly formed competition only upset Moriarty to a certain degree of hotness. Though he was not too worried, he still had his âsecret weaponâ, Nova.

Billy Creel - Parades his âdaughterâ Maggie around like a trophy. Appears to not drink alcohol and Colin suspects that Billy killed Maggieâs parents and took her for himself. Although there is no real evidence of such events, Moriarty is most likely bitter about Creels âhappy go luckyâ and âbetter than thouâ attitude.

Doc Church - This âbadassâ doc used to be a medic for the Slavers over in Paradise Falls. Abuses peopleâs small illnesses and âlaps up their caps like a drunk downing alcohol.â Moriarty was saving this tid-bit for later use.

Leo Stahl - Does not trust junkies. (Hmm! This information might be useful when hunting down this Silver chick.) Leo got all lovey-dovey with Nova and did not want to pay. She slapped the blue-moon out of him and Colin was about to do the same until he stumbled out of the bar. Leoâs drug habit might be used as leverage against Andy, should Moriarty need to collapse his saloonâs competition.

Jericho - Typical Billy-****** that tried to have non consented intercourse with Jenny Stahl. That information did not go public, but should Jericho try something smart on Colin, he will play the blackmail card quick.

Particularly noteworthy, there are a few outstanding debts from Stockholm, Nathan, Doc Church, and âthat deadbeat *******â, Jericho.

After I was finished reading and jotted down everything I possibly could, I grew a greater sense and respect for the man. He spoke the truth, but kept his personal thoughts to himself; although he was not afraid to use the knowledge to his advantage. Just as Colin told me, information is a commodity. Now I hold his secrets to my advantage!
âSimple economics, kidâ

Silver Lying Behind every Cloud

I decided to assist Colinâs endeavors to grasp what I could learn about him and uphold my end of the pact. With new evidence in hand, I believed I could make better judgment calls when confronting, Silver. Little did I know then, how much, that information was worth.
I crashed open Silverâs door in fashion of the Kool Aid Man. I was ready to rumble. For all I knew, she could have been armed to the nines, ready to meet any intruder that had a bounty on her head. I was greeted with some harsh language but that was expected.
What a *****!

Our conversation started like most in the new, refurbished DC area.

âWho the hell are you? Where did you come from?! Did Moriarty send you?!â
âWell, maâam, Iâm the post man. Iâm from Jersey Shore and come to think of it, yes, Moriarty sent me!â

âThat *******! Heâ¦heâs a liar! He just wants me dead! Those caps are all mine. I earned them!â
âActually, he doesnât want you dead. He just wants his caps back. Thatâs exactly what he told me.â

âLook, I used to work for that slob. Doingâ¦you knowâ¦favors for the guys. Well, I got sick of tired of it. I told Moriarty Iâm taking my share of the caps and leaving. I even slept with the pig to seal the deal.â
âWhat favors? Actually, please donât explain. Why would you sleep with him? Thatâs gross. Seriously, gross. He probably hasnât showed in weeks or months. Itâs not like the water to bathe is exactly hygienic.â

âNext morning he tells me I couldnât leave. So I bolted. I took my money and ran. Now heâs branded me a thief and a junkie and sent his cronies to find me. I guess I need a new hiding place.â
âYou sure do.â

What a delightful conversation with such an interest female of the species that was. Too bad, I did not have a lot time; we could have discussed the current politics of the Enclave and their charming President John H. Eden. He sounds honest enough, right?
I reached deep down, and then I reached some more, and I found just a bit of kindness and told the poor woman that I would leave her and tell Moriarty that she was nowhere to be found. I was looking to score some brownie points for the big guy upstairs.

So I walked outside and was fortunate to observe the sun gently gliding down the horizon into what was to become a gorgeous sunset without being shot at. I sat down on a nearby swing and I was able to hear the soothing voice of John H. Eden off in the distance echoing from those annoying Eye-bots.

I contemplated the scale of this mission I had self-righteously ordained myself. Thus far, Colin had been telling the truth. It may have been ugly, not doubt, but it was in fact the truth. So what do I make of this Silver chick? Before I had left her humble home, I took a quick peek around the room. She was definitely a junkie, thatâs for sure. How she gets her fix is beyond me, but thatâs for a different time and story.

I came to the conclusion that Silver was a habitual liar. Nothing she had told me made much sense. Not to mention the fact that Moriarty had been honest this entire time. I was double humiliated; even more egg was now on my face. The only thing left to do was to return to Colin and slap the man in his face. Thinks he can extort caps from me does he? I really donât even care where my father is. Heâs a grown man. Maybe I will just sit down, have a drink, and complain about not having enough money for my next drink. Hopefully Gob, my BFF, will start a tab?

Twilight: 2277

To save some time and a small headache, I have elected to quickly discuss the Lucy West incident.

Apparently, her brother turned into a blood thirsting creature of the night, no, not a prostitute but close enough. He ran off with his kindred spirits of sorts, and after a few astute games of parlay, I was able to earn the trust of The Family and relinquish the guilt and lust for blood that Lucyâs brother once had.

The point I wish to convey is that Lucy West was indeed full of fear. Moriarty was correct again. However, it is unclear whether or not Lucy knew what her brother, Ian, was currently up to. She had an idea, and a secret, that he was extraordinary. But I doubt she knew he had been driven mad by his âconditionâ and had feasted on her side of the family. Yes, you read that correctly, I said that Ian made KFC out his family.
I donât know whatâs more depressing: The fact that Stephenie Meyer made a cash-cow killing from pubescent emoâs, crushing on homosexual vampires, or the death of this manâs professional career in acting?


As our mission slowly comes to a head, was I able to answer these provocative questions? Who is this man? What was his angle? What was his role in this multi-verse of sequentially stacked quests and why was he the most hated man in all of Megaton?

It turns out that Mr. Moriarty is quite influential due to his extensive knowledge of the people of Megaton and the undeniable truth, that he possesses leadership qualities. When the sheople needed a leader, Colin stepped up to the plate. It should be noted, people donât need booze and they donât need ******s. So what more does this man offer? Blackmailing is a powerful tool. Reading his entries, Moriarty does not just abuse his clout. Hell, the Stahlâs are his direct competition in town. While it is obvious that he is upset about it, he respects the free market economy; to a certain extent. He has yet to burn the shack down or kill the owners. He acknowledges that his upper hand consists of his better âservicesâ and is content to his little piece of heaven.

What is he playing at? It seems to me that the man just wants to be left alone. He is not trying to run the lives of every single person in Megaton, unlike the politicians of today. Granted, he conducts some shady business, but if the town really considered it a problem, Sheriff Simms would take care of it. Moriarty is not particularly armed. So a âmutinyâ against him would not be hard; especially since that easily tempered Jericho fellow and Colin do not rub elbows well.

Colin Moriarty is the most truthful man in all of Megaton. Granted, he manipulates it to better his position, but who doesnât? It becomes painfully clear that Lucas Simms is the majordomo of Megaton whereas Colin Moriarty is the prime minister and everyone knows it. And like most people, they become jealous and try to overthrow those who hold any type of power.

So maybe we will never truly know this man. Who knows what deep secrets he really holds close to his heart. He is callused and that often tends to indicate some past hurt that is unable to be resolved. I wish the man the best in the world. And though I doubt he will one day open up, I certainly hope his heart softens some.

I want to leave my readers with this thoughtful quote.
âOnce a profound truth has been seen, it cannot be âunseenâ.â â" David Sim
In celebrated honor, I have artistically rendered a soft-tipped pencil illustration of this magnificent man, Colin Moriarty.


*A big thank you to the community at Fallout 3 Wikia for all my research. Their continuous support, knowledge, and references into the world of Fallout would not have been possible. In addition, a thank you to Bethesda for making such a fantastic game and I look forward to Fallout4*
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