http://www.shadownessence.

com
Credits
Written by: Swordsman, DuBobO, Cara, Gatharion,
General Bullet, Nin, Arkanix, Shukura, Loyal One, Kalirush,
Sandchigger, GeezOona, Tink, Lantis, Alieron, Xolarin,
Rhiannon, Dragon-of-Eternal, Ellis, Poe, Spanglemaker
Editing: Swordsman
Layout and Typsetting: PookaKnight
Artists: Sturmschwinge, Dungeon Keeper, Arkanix,
Daevid, Jahanjahan, NibbleKat, Hyacinth, Lia, Pathgalen, Miss
Gizmo, Satyr, Cara, LostSoul

Changeling: The Dreaming, World of Darkness, and all related material and White Wolf Publishing Inc.
No challenge to those copyrights is implied or intended. Permission is granted to print or reproduce this document for
personal use only.
Check out White Wolf online at
http://www.white-wolf.com
Check out the Shadownessence website at
http://www.shadownessence.com

2 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling

 Table of Contents

Introduction 4

Chapter One: The Week of Winter 6

Chapter Two: The Week of Spring 48

Chapter Three: The Week of Summer 58

Chapter Four: The Week of Autumn 72

Contents 3
 INTRODUCTION
If we shadows have offended,
Think but this, and all is mended:
That you have but slumbered here,
While these visions did appear;
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream,
Gentles, do not reprehend.
If you pardon, we will mend.
William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Nights Dream

For a brief time, the shadows have parted, and we are
given a glimpse into what is beyond. Be not afraid, my child.
Some of the visions you will see are inspiring, while others are
frightening. But through this window they cannot harm you.
However, should you choose to join them in their world, such
assurances cannot be given. The risks are great, but the rewards
are greater.
Welcome to the Changeling. Welcome to the Dreaming.
And so began the Month of the Changeling on April 1,
2005. Shadownessence is a web site dedicated to everything
that is the World of Darkness. Created, moderated, and grown
by dedicated fans, SnE (as we like to affectionately call it) is
on its way to becoming the foremost Internet site for World of
Darkness resources, other than White Wolfs official web site.
As part of our desire to promote and showcase the games we
love so much, during 2005 we set aside a full month dedicated to
each game system. Changeling was the third month.
During the four weeks of the event, we held contests,
promotions, and raffles. Entrants earned prizes, as well as special
titles and designations. Much Glamour was generated during
April. Numerous entries vied for limited awards. There were
some clear winners, as well as some difficult decisions by the
judges. Yet all entries were valuable and worth viewing. When
the month was almost over, we realized that we would miss
the fun, joy, and camaraderie that we found during our special
month. Fans of Changeling: The Dreaming are a vocal and
dedicated lot, and we found ourselves unwilling to simply give
up one of the biggest sources of Glamour we had found.
This desire lead to the very words that you are reading.
This book is a compilation of the entries, titles, and awards during
SnEs Month of the Changeling. Many members worked very
hard and creatively to produce the entries that you are about to
see. We hope that you enjoy them as much as we did.

4 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling

 The month would have been very unsuccessful if it wasnt
for the plethora of entries that we received. Yet a lot of work
went on behind the scenes, and we would be remiss if we did not
acknowledge those.
Thanks to Spikey and Temple for helping to develop the
contests, rules, and prizes.
Thanks to Mike Todd at DriveThruRPG.com for some
very generous donations of prizes.
Thanks to Christopher Howard, Tony DiTerlizzi, and John
Dollar for their donation of their signatures (and Chris for his
donation of Kithbook: Nockers).
Thanks to Arkanix, Morlandus, Mr. Gone, PookaKnight,
and Satyr, for contributing prizes.
And a big thanks to our Pius, Mortekai. He did all of the
incredible banners, as well as being the brains and heart behind
Shadownessence.
So here we go! What you are about to view is the collective
work of many members of Shadownessence. Other than editing
for format and a few spelling issues here and there, these entries
are presented as they were submitted. I have also included the
banners and introductions for each themed week of the month,
edited slightly to make more sense in this type of presentation. I
hope you enjoy this as much as I did.
Long live the Dreaming!
Chris Bern
a.k.a. Swordsman
Changeling Villicus
May, 2005

Introduction 5
 CHAPTER ONE:
THE WEEK OF
WINTER
Gather by the fire my children, and perhaps these dancing
flames will chase the chill away. What? Oh, ignore those shadows
on the wall. They merely seek warmth and companionship as
well. Would you deny them that which you hold dear? I thought
not.
We huddle here in the cold of Winter, and look out
the windows to see the snow-covered fields and skeletal trees.
Depressing? No, children, no. You see, the world is merely
asleep, not dead. We are granted this period to rest and ponder.
Ponder on what you ask? On ourselves, on each other, on our
world. Our past, our present, and our future all come together on
nights like these. This is a time for introspection and planning.
You say that the shadow touched you? Well, that is strange.
What are you hiding, child? The shadows contain secrets, and
seek more hidden lore. Have you something to share with
them?
What? Yes, there is death here as well. Does that frighten
you? It shouldnt. For rebirth follows death, just as death follows
life. Its all a part of the cycle of seasons. And the year begins
with this season.
The Week of Winter
Welcome to our first week in the Month of the Changeling!
Heres where we get the ball rolling, and really start things off.
So what do we have in store for you? Just listen!
Changeling Fiction Competition
Prove to all of us that Changeling fans are the most
creative around! I know that there are plenty of you who like
to write, and are excited to explore the world of Changeling. So
show what you can do! The rules are simple.
1500-2500 words long
Must include a chimera
Must include the words winter and autumn
Other than that, anything goes! The stories will be judged
on creativity, originality, and writing ability. The winner will
receive the title of Master Bard, and will win a copy of Kithbook:
Nockers signed by the author, Christopher Howard, and artists
Tony DiTerlizzi and John Dollar!
Book Review Challenge
You may love them, or you may hate them, but I know
you have opinions about them. So share! This competition is
all about who can make the most reviews of Changeling books
on Shadownessence. There are 32 books up for review. How
many can you do? The rules are simple. Whoever gives the most
reviews wins. Remember, this is for quality reviews, where you
actually detail the good and bad points. Simply stating that it
is good or bad isnt sufficient. So what does the person win? A
copy of War in Concordia and the title of Master Scribe.
Chapter One: The Week of Winter 7
 Winners

8 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling

 The Redcap Knight
By DuBobO
Do you remember having a dream of becoming someone great? A dream you had when you were
a child that just faded away with time? The kind of fantasy that seemed like there was no way it wouldnt
happen, like it was completely plausible that youd grow up to be an astronaut, or a doctor, or a rock star? I
think that, at least for some people, those dreams are the first ones to go. I remember my dream future. I was
going to be a knight in shining armor. Yeah, stupid even for a kids fantasy, I know. Hey, its no worse than
wanting to be a cowboy or something. But, yeah, that was what I was going to be.
Look at me now, sitting in a dingy apartment thinking about how everything went to hell as I watch the
cars go by and the afternoons funeral.
Thems the breaks Eddie.
* * * * *
As much as Id love to sit here and spew angsty rhetoric at myself, I have a job to do. I pull on my
jacket; its a nice leather trench coat with a stylized, comic-book style skull stitched into the back. Its not just a
jacket though. I also see it as a spiky suit of dark metal, chimerical armor with leather overlaid on it. It suits me
I think.
At the same time that Edgar West, a middle-aged biker with an ugly mug full of piercings, walks out
of the apartment door, so does Edgar West, the thing from your nightmares. A mouth full of crooked, sharp
teeth doesnt quite sit well in my skull and makes my head look like its sloping down to my chin. What looked
like shiny, silver piercings become screws, drilled straight into the bone of my cheeks and forehead. As if all that
wasnt enough, my eyes become small and beady and my skin takes on a pale color that makes me look like Ive
been dead for a few weeks. Yeah, Im the picture of a knight in shining armor, arent I?
The schmuck of a Sidhe who rules this little slice of Floridian paradise, Count Prospero, got word from
some Eshu fortune teller by the name of Garrett that an important faerie would find herself reincarnated as a
childling on the first day of the coming winter.
It seems to me like hes concerned about this one, and not about making a good first impression. If
he wanted to do that, he wouldnt send some toothy bastard like me to go watch over her and take her to the
freehold when her Chrysalis comes. No, hes definitely worried that shes in immediate danger. That or he
wants her to be so disgusted with him that shell head someplace else. But why would he want to get rid of a
changeling, likely another Sidhe, as important as Garrett claimed she was?
But its not my place to question Prospero, just get the job done and, if Im lucky, hell might just freeze
over and I could get some respect around the court. Nobody likes a Redcap, Im aware of that, but at least
with the Unseelie they dont spit on you for being a freaky-looking S.O.B. I guess its what I get for trying to
be a good guy.
* * * * * *

Chapter One: The Week of Winter 9

 Im walking down through the slummy streets of Fosters Mission, the garbage dump this city passes off
as a Hard-Working Urban Community. I want a cigarette bad, but its raining too hard to even light up.
So all I can do is think.
The girls name is Clarice Daniels, a name that Ill never forget as long as I live. I knew her years ago,
when her fathers job paid better and they could afford to live in the upscale homes to the north. It was five
years ago that I met her. A lot has happened in five years, but the memory of that day has sat in my mind,
repeating itself over and over again with perfect clarity.
I was a kid then, older than her, but still a stupid kid. I had only been aware of what I was for a year,
but it had been enough to teach me the harsh way the Unseelie Court works. I was a real commoner back then,
part of a rough-and-tumble motley and everything. Long story short, we got into a lot more trouble than we
could handle real soon.
So I found myself lost in the middle of the upper-class suburbs, hungry and short on Glamour with
blood all over my coat. Thats when I found this dog running around, some kind of terrier. I grab the little
thing, intending originally to eat the poor mutt, when I see the tag hanging from its collar. It said Eddie.
Fortunately for him, that made me pause long enough to hear a sweet, shrill voice calling my name, our name,
from down the street.
And there she was, Clarice Daniels. She reminded me of Alice in Wonderland, the illustrations from
the actual book, not the crap Disney flick. She was wearing a brightly colored skirt and had one of those
headband things that kept her black hair out of her teardrop-shaped face.
I looked at her and she back at me and for a second, I was worried that she knew what I was. There was
nothing else to do then, but set the dog down. It ran to her, curled around her legs and stared at me in the same
way she did.
A while must have passed, before I made the mistake of trying to look at her through Kenning, to see if
there was something about her, something more than the normal. I was blinded by how much Glamour I saw
pouring out of her. She was the most fertile Dreamer Ive ever encountered and I dont think she even knew it.
All I remember past that was her asking me if I was all right and offering me a sandwich from her backpack.
She was the reason that I turned my back on the Unseelie. She wasnt innocent so much as she was
innocence itself, embodied in a six-year-old girl. I remember talking to her as I ate the sandwich, hearing her
talk about the puppy her parents had just bought for her, how he had gotten lost and she was worried he had
gotten hit by a car. She told me how happy she was that I had found her dog and how grateful she was to me.
She was so much more polite than any child Id ever met before.
I became a guardian angel of sorts to her. When she forgot to do her homework, Id sneak in and
finish it for her while she slept. When the dog ate her Easter candy, I ran out to the convenience store to and
stealthily replaced the empty wrappers with what junk the money in my pocket could afford. But it all ended
up coming crashing down around me one year later.

10 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling

 She was playing by the pool once when she slipped and fell in and started to drown. I practically hurled
myself out of the bushes to pull her out. Of course, when her mother came out to see some guy in a trench coat
giving CPR to her daughter, she took it poorly. She screamed and hurled something glass at me, shattering it
on the side of my head. I was dazed and bleeding, so I ran.
It wasnt until that night that I crept back to the Daniels home, carefully dodging the scanning gaze
of her now paranoid parents. They were alert and thorough, but couldnt pierce the veil of Glamour and well-
practiced stealth that took me silently to Clarices bedroom window.
I pushed the window up and looked in at her as she lay on her bed, her eyes red and her cheeks wet with
tears. In the quietest Sluagh whisper I could manage I called out her name and asked her if she was all right.
She looked up at me and, for a second, I saw her big brown eyes light up before the pall of dread sank over
them again. What she said to me then stung like hornets in my ears and itll probably follow me to the grave.
Eddie, you have to leave. My mommy and daddy said that youre a bad man and that theyve seen
you following me before. They dont want me to talk to you anymore.
My heart froze and fitfully spat icy blood back into my veins. I could feel the tangible grip of Banality
coiling around the core of my being and squeezing like it wanted me to burst on the inside. I tried to voice a
protest, but she stopped me.
No Eddie, you have to leave. I told them that you were my friend, that you were a fairy that watched
over me. They said, what she was going to say would kill me right out, I knew it. They said you lied to me.
Fairies dont exist and youre just a bad man who wants to hurt me.
There was bile in my throat, I could feel it. Her small, distant voice was the beautiful sound of a violin
playing a melodramatically sorrowful song for me.\
Just just go away Eddie. Dont come back. That was the very moment when I found out exactly
what a broken heart feels like.
* * * * *
Dreams arent forever. But they dont die like people die, they half-life. They either go out in a dazzling
blaze of glory or they slowly peter out, poisoning and dragging down everyone around them as they collapse
into a jagged pile of regrets.
Clarice had forsaken me, but she had changed me in an unchangeable way. I gave up on the Unseelie
and bowed before Count Prospero, hoping that the Seelie would take me. If they didnt, I had no idea what to
do from there. I could never go back to things the way they were before. I could never kill or Ravage a mortal
in cold blood again.
I was lucky; the Count let me into the court as his lackey. Trust me, thats lucky compared to being
beheaded and having your skull mailed back to your old master. Since then, Ive been running the errands for
the Seelie that are either too menial or too dangerous to send a real knight on. I have no delusions of joining the
nobility; I just hope that one day I could be seen as at least close to an equal by my peers.

Chapter One: The Week of Winter 11

 This will be the first time that Ive seen Clarice in half a decade. It makes me nervous cause I dont know
how shes going to react. Shes eleven now and I dont even know if she remembers old Eddie. The rain is still
coming down when I reach her street. I have to check to the wet piece of paper in my pocket for the address,
these rows of tiny, dirty houses all look the same.
I have to choke down a rising lump of dread in my throat as I sneak to the only window still lit at this
hour of the night. Managing to peek in from the side, I can see at least three girls in there. Two of them are
sitting together on the bed with their backs to me, while the third is a middle-school age girl with an irritated
bored look on her angular face and poorly dyed blonde hair that makes me sick when I think how shes already
trying to be one of the Cool Kids.
One of the girls on the bed turns to whisper something to the other. Shes a cute girl with mousy features
and curly brown hair, but shes unremarkable for the most part. But when the third girl turns to respond, my
heart skips a beat. Its Clarice.
Five years have changed her considerably from the little innocent I once knew. Her hair is dyed the same,
fake color as the bratty-looking kid on the floor. Shes also put on a considerable amount of weight, enough
that Im sure she has to suffer the jibes of all her peers, a thought that makes my insides curl like burning paper.
Despite the changes, I know its her, I can still see that angelic cast to her figures and that room-brightening
smile. She even has the same headband she wore that day I met her.
Good memories are starting to well up in me, watching my angel talk to her two friends, who apparently
are here for a sleepover. But things start to go bad quickly. I watch the Brat, reading her lips, and I can tell
shes making rude comments about the accommodations and her hostess. Neither Clarice nor the mousy girl say
anything and Im starting to get a sinking feeling in my stomach.
More words are traded, mostly between Clarice and the Brat. What the hell is going on? The rich-
looking kid suddenly gets up and pulls out a cell phone (like a kid her age needs one of those) and starts talking
to someone else. Shes getting a ride home.
Theres a sullen silence in the air for a few minutes before an expensive-looking car pulls up in front of the
house. Clarice says something to the Brat that makes her turn and yell back at my former charge. All I can see
is the word fat and thats plenty. Rage is the only word that describes what Im feeling properly. Through
pounding rain and a closed pane of glass, I can hear the angel of innocence crying as the other girl walks out to
meet her car.
My jagged, bitten fingernails are cutting into my palms, but I only notice when the wetness of the rain
turns warm and viscous with my own blood. My teeth are grinding so hard its giving me a headache. This isnt
fair! This evil little creature made my Clarice cry and theres nothing I can do about it. For the first time in my
life Ive really considered pulling a gun on a kid and knocking her teeth out.
I watch the Brat as she runs out to the Lexus, or whatever it is, cursing the bastard that brought that little
beast into the world. If only she were a changeling, then I could find an excuse to wring her skinny little neck.
But no, shes just mortal. A junior bitch without the aid of anything supernatural.

12 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling

 No, Ive had enough. Abuse me all youd like, I was born to it, but Clarice doesnt deserve this. I dont
care if I go down in this citys history as a child stalking pedophile. I dont care of Clarice thinks that of me.
I dont care what Prospero or any other fae in the world has to say about this. I wont let this happen to my
innocent angel anymore. Its time for me to be the knight I wanted to be and become a guardian angel once
again.
As autumn dies, so dies Edgar West the Wretch. Ill be Edgar West the Knight, if only to myself.

Chapter One: The Week of Winter 13

 We could try and catch him, get the reward!
How Cara First Came to Owain rolled his eyes, We have enough adventure on our
plates as it is.
Meet Omar the Bandit * * *
The sun was setting as two hulking fellows with scimitars
By Cara (Theresa Kappel) approached. Cara cursed her ignorance as Owain talked to them
in a tongue she couldnt fathom.
Crossing from Wales to the Himalayas by horse was quite
Theyre town guards. Someone thinks Im Omar.
insane; probably why Carameh decided to go with the Sidhe.
What!
The Sidhe is of note because this story occurs when Autumn
I think this can all be cleared up pretty quickly. Im
was new to the world and Winter still a distant fear; during
obviously not an Arab bandit, he smiled. Im going to go with
the Interregnum. However, this sidhe was a Scathach . Owain
them to talk to their superiors. You go back to the tavern and
Glyndwr last true Prince of Wales, Knight of the Lion. He
wait, no wandering off, please.
traveled to find the legendary Simurgh . Owain was bound to ask
Being alone and unable to understand the language did a
one question for a favor received; then hed ask about his wife:
lot to stem Caras adventurous desires, I promise to stay in the
the beautiful lady of the fountain, lost during the sundering.
room, and out of trouble.
His traveling companion hardly befitted his rank: Carameh
Of course, Ill be fine. Bracketed by the two swordsmen
Fareed was a common dirty gypsy. Cara had leapt for staff and
Owain was led off.
pack at the mere possibility of traveling with Owain. Whether
Cara stood in the sand and watched him go.
he ignored it, or simply didnt know, Cara adored him. Not only
True to her word Cara went straight back to the inn.
had he saved her from the church, and given her the chance
Through a frustrating series of gestures and curses she managed
to join THE Quests: to stop the coming Winter, but he could
to convey to the owner that shes take a meal in her room. She
do anything as far as she was concernedand of course he was
ate and chatted with her camel. As boredom set in she played
ridiculously handsome. The fact that he had rather nimbly killed
her fiddle for awhile and resisted the urge to go wandering. At
a werewolf at the beginning of the journey had only reinforced
last she fell asleep, feeling rather proud that she had avoided any
her belief that he was perfect.
trouble or adventure while Owain was gone.
Their travels brought them to the Middle East. Cara
* * *
immediately picked up the most garish of local styles, and tended
I hear something, Mirages whisper roused Cara from
to let her unbridled curiosity lead the way. Trailing behind her
sleep.
floated the little blue camel, gray wings fluttering, chatting idly
Blearily Cara stumbled to the window, a mere slit
about whatever Cara pointed out. Owain indulged her, quite
nothing.
probably more than he should. Very likely the fact that only
Youre imagining things.
he could actually speak the language kept away quite a bit of
You never notice anything.
trouble
Not trushe stopped, there were noises in the hallway.
Upon entering town they found a reasonably non-slummy
Travelers turning in for the night? she whispered
inn. They stabled their horses and headed to the market. The
hopefully.
trip had taken quite a toll on their supplies and a good deal of
Mirage hovered, ear to the door, Footsteps!
arid land lay between them and their destination. Conversation
The door handled rattled. Cara grabbed her staff and
buzzed constantly in the crowded market place.
looked frantically around: nothing to block the door, window to
What are they all talking about? Cara asked as she
small for escape. I tried to be good! The adventure came to me!
resisted the urge to lift some jewelry from a table.
She backed up against the wall.
Owain listen for a moment, head cocked to one side,
The door flew open; a bag nabbed the camel. A satyr and
Local gossip, whos cheating on whomWhos selling dog
several unsavory humans crowded in. Cara would have tried
meat and calling it camel
stopping them allif they hadnt had her best friend.
They EAT camel! the chimera camel, Mirage, dove to
Drop the camel.
hide under Caras skirts.
You think were stupid? the satyr leered, Drop the staff
I wouldnt worry too much, Mirage; youd hardly make
and come with us.
an appetizer.
Release the camel, and I swear on the Dreaming well go
Owain listened again to the tide of conversation and
willingly. Otherwise I
frowned, And apparently a famous bandit, Omar, is in the area
can cause a great deal of trouble.
with his gang. Despite a reward no one has been able to catch
He opened the bag; Mirage bolted out and hid amongst
the outlaw, and the vendors are worried for their wares and their
Caras skirts. She dropped the staff to the floor. While two men
wives.
tied her hand and foot, a boggan leaned the staff against the wall
Omar, sounds like a good story. Wish I could understand
and made the bed. They tossed her over the saddle of Oweins
more of what theyre saying so I could ask questions. Get the
horse and rode off into the desert. Cara glanced back wondering
entire story.
if shed ever see Owain again.
Your female, they wouldnt talk to you anyway.

14 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling

 One long, bruising ride later they arrived at a cave deep in
the desert. Cara was set on her feet and untied.
This way, gestured a hulking Troll.
Inside was a page from Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves:
heaped up from sole to ceiling with camel loads of silks and
brocades and embroidered cloths and mounds on mounds of
varicolored carpetingcoins golden and silver without measure
or accountpiled upon the ground. Hanging silks cloaked a
smaller room to which she was led and left. On a table, inlayed
with jewels, lay the feast of a king. Cara sat on a pile of silk and
gold pillows.
I hope my men did not hurt you. If they have I assure you
they will be punished.
Cara looked up at the melodic voice, and was struck dumb.
Here was an Eshu! A handsome Arab with the darkest of eyes,
in lavish clothes, with a dark scimitar at his side. He might have
been Elegbara himself.
Omar, she knew it instantly.
Ahh, youve heard of me? he smiled winningly, and
lowered himself to the pillows at her side.
Now Cara felt she was on even footing. This was no
random bandit, but a changeling and her kithmate!
Return me to the inn at once!
He laughed, No, I think I shall keep you. Wine?
Owain will come.
The knightly Itiyere? I think hell be detained for some
time.
I rather liked the irony of it, dont you? he lounged,
perfectly at ease.
But her anger fizzled out completely.
Will you not at least tell me your name? again he held
out a glass of wine to her.
You dont know? If you dont even know me then why did
you abduct me?
Because you are the most beautiful Eshu I have ever seen,
and I wanted you for my wife. He clapped his hands.
The troll placed an open chest at Caras feet. Amazed
Cara pulled out embroidered silks, gold necklaces, a jeweled
hand mirror, oils and incense.
But Im know there are far prettier Eshu than me, Cara
was no fool, she knew that she was pretty, but certainly nothing
to steal!
You are by far the most lovely to pass before my eyes.
When I saw you in the market I decided I had to have you.
And what I desire, I take, an absentminded gesture took in the
lavish surroundings.
I am not some trinket to adorn your hideout. Im one of
Eshus children and this breaks all tradition of Uhuru! You will
set me free or pay for your actions.
Youre being silly. Now relax, eat with me, talk with me,
and by all means tell me your name, his sweet voice calmed her
rage with ease.
Carameh Fareed.
* * *
They talked long into the night. Cara continually arguing
for her freedom. The concept of a female and freedom seemed
to be a bit beyond this unseelie Eshu. And Cara could hardly
keep up her defenses. He was elegant, polite, and frighteningly
charming. They drank and laughed, two Eshu in a desert paradise.
She forgot all about Owain.
Cara did not notice the noise outside; Omar did. Partway
through a heated discussion for the Escheat and whether or not
a Sidhe imposed code could ever really apply to the Eshu he got
distracted, the constant smile wavering. A call to arms echoed
loudly through the chamber, the sounds of metal on metal rang
through the night.
Elation surged through Cara, Thats Owain. Come to
rescue me.
Then he will die for his bravado.
Arent you going out there?
Ha, why bother? My men will dispose of him quickly
enough.
If you believe that, you dont know Owain at all.
Annoyance flickered across his face, What do you see in
him? I offer you a life of luxury and adventure. Does he love you
as I do?
No, he doesnt care for me, Yet, she added to herself.
But he can give me freedom.
Not so, you yourself admit that the oath he caused you to
take has stolen all of your freedom forever, he grabbed her hand
and turned it over to reveal the scar that crossed her palm.
She traced the line made by Owains sword, I chose to
take that oath. He did not take my freedom from me, I did.
From outside the yelling grew louder, the sounds of fighting
more intense. Omar yelled something she did not understand.
The troll and a human entered. Omar spoke to them sharply
and stood.
We will see what this Owain is made of, his hand moved
to the hilt of the dark sword at his side. No one can stand
against my DelMakned.
Chapter One: The Week of Winter 15
 Left alone Cara fidgeted with the tassels on the pillow.
How could she just sit there while Owain fought an entire gang
of bandits for her! She carefully judged her tow guards. They
stood just inside the curtain to the other room.
Mirage I think its time we got out of here dont you, she
spoke in the gypsy tongue. The camel flew to her and awaited
her move. When the time seems right fuddle that human guard
if you would.
From the chest of treasures Cara drew a length of silk.
Seemingly idly she twirled it around her finger. The curtain
behind the Troll rose and began to wrap around his legs.
Oh, none of that! he growled and shook loose the
entangling piece of fabric. No more cantrips! He drew a
scimitar.
Cara ignored him completely. Guessing that if he hadnt
noticed her preparing to cast the first cantrip, then probably
he couldnt see the second. To herself Cara recited a verse in
Romany, Like that of a stallion, my strength is unwavering
during the running-race; I come first in the race, and my knees
do not get tired. I am fearless; I dance with joy, . Quicker then
than the eye could follow she stood and flung out her arm as if
to grab the air, and yanked.
The Trolls sword flew from his grip to the floor. Mirage flew
at the two, and spun around their heads fast as a hummingbird,
befuddling them momentarily. Cara dove for the sword grabbing
it as she dashed between the trolls legs and out the door. Before
the troll could recover her fast legs had carried her through
the empty outer cave to the desert beyond. She came to a very
abrupt halt.
Outside the moonlit ground was littered with bodies.
Bandits lay dead on very side. And in the center of this circle
of carnage two lone changelings fought. Owain broadsword
flashing surrounded by a blue nimbus of flame, and Omar
scimitar shrouded in a smoky black wake, both moving faster
than and human. Horrified Cara watched the exchange of blows
for a moment undetected realizing that Owain, bleeding and
tiered, was loosing.
It was Omar who could not resist glancing over at her there
by the entrance to the cave. Owain never took his eyes from the
fight. Sensing a moment of weakness Cara again through out
her arm and yanked. The sword was too powerful for her to grip
fully, but she tugged it ever so slightly, Omars surprised gaze
could not fathom the betrayal. The slight shift of the weapon
and the distraction were all that Owain needed. Only seconds
after she exited the cave, Omar fell.
Looking to Cara for the first time Owain yelled out Duck!
Unthinking Cara hit the ground. Fast as lightning Owain pulled
two daggers off a dead body and spun them through the air,
killing Caras two guards.
She stood. For a moment the two of them simply stared
at each other. Alone in the suddenly quiet desert. Then Owain
collapsed, leaving Cara alone amidst the dead bodies.
Blood seeped from a multitude of wounds; worse Owains
fae seeming was fading . Straining Cara carried Owain inside
and bandaged him as best she could. Back outside she dealt with
16 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
the bandits. Slitting the throats of those near death and binding
the rest. To her dismay Owain did not improve, both mortal and
fae sides fading.
Omar lay bound, bleeding but alive. Cara placed a sword
at his throat.
Wake up!
Slowly he opened his eyes and smiled.
Give me one reason why I should let you live.
Because Im so irresistibly charming?
Cara tried desperately not to smile, Have you a healer?
Satyr.
The satyr lay dead a few meters away. Cara bit her lip in
frustration.
Teach me the word for healer; Ill ride to town.
Your Sidhe friend is not well?
The sword pressed down.
I can teach you, but theyll not listen to a woman.
Despairing Cara sank to the ground, I cant let him die!
Ill go.
You just tried to kill him.
Give me a horse and Ill fetch a healer. In exchange you
free my men and let us go.
Drawing her dagger she cut his bonds.
Go. If you fail to return I shall hunt you till the ends of
the Earth and beyond.
Fair enough, he lurched painfully to his feet clasping his
bleeding side.
Cara ignored the fact that Omar had seen to his own
injuries before returning. She didnt breathe as the healer laid
her hands on Owains wounds. Under the (human?) womans
hands the cuts closed; Owains breathing coming easier.
The healer says hell live. Though hes nearly drained of
glamour.
Is there a freehold nearby?
Omar shook his head.
Cara sighed, Tell her to take some treasure. Free your
men and leave.
You trust me?
You are Eshu, and you kept your promise.
I should like to give him something, can I leave it with
you? He held out DelMakNed, sheathed. He bested me in
fair contest.
Ill see Owain gets it.
You could come with me.
My place is by his side, until Winter comes.
* * *
After he left Cara found a treasure inside the chest that
had not been there before. A compass that pointed towards
glamour. Owain faded in and out of consciousness and his fae
self. When he was well enough to move Cara told him they
were riding in search of a freehold. Cara carried the weapon he
so distrusted; (rightly so) warning her to draw only in dire need.
Owain never claimed DelMakNed. Cara would later do great
deeds at Owains side with DelMakNed, but thats another
story
 Omar, who she had only recently run into again. A story
Shattered Dreams from years past and a reality come to join the armies at the end
of Autumn. Of course it was a bit mortifying to run into him
By Cara (Theresa Kappel) while telling the story of how she lost her butt!
To give up your freedom voluntarily is to place your destiny in Even so I came out of that adventure way ahead. Cara
the hands of another and that is more than any living thing should ever Luna indeed, that nickname never fit so well!
demand of another The most callous Ojo or wicked Iku refrains from Since the beginning of the quest Cara had worn the Moon
slavery for this reason, as even in their debased sate they would rather be Circlet sister to the Sun Circlet, generating extra glamour as
responsible for the death of their foes physical body then for the death of the moon waxed. Recently shed gotten her Nocker oath-mate
another beings soul. Now, do you see why we so rarely enter into oaths, to make her a scimitar of Moon silver to match the Sun Sword
even with other Elegbara? A piece of your freedom given is a piece that Owain Carried. Then on Mt. Olympus they had come into
is lost to you, quite possibly forever, and youd do well to remember that possession of the Sun and Moon Chariots used by the Gods of
before swearing an oath in the heat of passion. Marie on Uhuru in old to drive the Sun and Moon across the sky. There she had
Eshu Society, KB: Eshu pg 34-35. made an overly bold move and lost a bit of rear flesh for her
stupidity.
Cara closed her eyes as the wind blew through her hair and
Anywho, Omar is a better captain of that ship than I ever
the feathers of her wings. By Jakata she loved traveling! Even if
was! Fate has brought us together again here at the end. If we
she seemed to have seen it all before. She glanced over at Omar,
both live maybe this time, finally, Ill be free to go with him on
the jewel of unseelie Eshu, proudly steering the Golden Dragon
an adventure of my choosing!
ship Elehdah . Which these days remind her of nothing so much
At that moment a small blue object flew into Cara nearly
as The ship at the end of the cartoon Peter Pan, part pirate ship
tumbling her out of the sky. She laughed and tried to tickle the
and part faerie boat, and of course golden and flying. The rest
chimera as they tumbled in the wake of the magic ship.
of the army or crew lounged and enjoyed the brief respite from
What do you think we should do when all this is over
fighting.
Mirage? Perhaps return to my family, would you like that?
They deserve a rest before the main war breaks out. She
The small blue camel chose not the reply, but joyously flew
mused. It was a good move to attack the Fomorians first, let
beside her, squealing into the wind. Tiny gray wings pumping
them know were not afraid. But Im glad to be away from the
furiously to keep up with Caras larger span.
Red Plains, very glad.
My family, ahh for once I could return to them! That would
Concordia grew in the distance, the shining towers of Tara
certainly break tradition. Cara disappears once a generation,
Nar not yet visible. This would probably be the last voyage she
stolen by faeries, and after Armageddon returns to raise a real
would take before the Winter hit in full. Shes never been so
gypsy family!
happy.
So, many long held dreams filled her mind as they traveled
Finally we have all the treasures. Were as prepared as well
to Concordia. After centuries of serving her oath she could
ever be to fight this war. And then
barely concentrate on the immanent Winter. Spring was on the
UHURU! she yelled and dove over the side, her wings
horizon and it carried all her favorite dreams!
unfurling.
For hundreds of years she and a handful of others and
She returned to the ship as it cruised in to land in front of
worked to prepare for this day. They alone had been gathering
Tara Nar. She still couldnt quite believe that Owain had gotten
the legendary treasures to fight the coming Winter while all the
himself named High King while she was off battling Fomorian
other fae lived their lives. Cara had known from the moment of
flunkies in the deep dreaming!
her chrysalis that she was bound to this quest, doomed to give up
Its just like him, too. Arthurian Knight, Prince of Wales,
her life to save the fey. But it was nearly over!
and now this! Half the world should have to bow to him, and he
Soon the Fomorians will be defeated and Ill be free! Free
would still look embarrassed if they did!
for the first time in centuries to do what I like and go where I
Owain awaited them all in the courtyard, looking a bit
wish!
sheepish about the whole thing. Cara was the last one off. She
She though of Owain, her companion in this great quest.
watched him as Kate ran forward on swift hooves to hug him.
Owain Glyndwr, Scathach Knight, Knight of the Round Table,
Hundreds of years later, and he still takes my breath away.
last true Prince of Wales
The Oathmates exchanged greetings and then got right
Savior of fae kind; this whole quest was his dream and
down to business. After all Winter would not wait on them!
weve nearly done it! But Ive loved him all these years and he
grows only more distant. I doubt he even thinks of me anymore.
Long hours later they emerged from the parliament
If he still cannot love me after all this is over, perhaps its time I
of dreams. A plan of attack roughly created, still no real idea
embraced what I could not these long years.
how they were going to win this thing. However, they had the
treasures, and certainly theyd overcome tougher puzzles just
getting to this point. They all headed back to the ship, which

Chapter One: The Week of Winter 17

would in time deploy each to their assigned continent. Revenge
occupied Caras mind at the thought of returning to China, but
as the others exited the freehold Owain caught up with her.
Cara can I speak to you in private?
Her heart leapt into her throat. Ahh yes this was going to
be a good day!
Im always at your service, bowing mockingly; knowing
how Owain hated all that courtly stuff.
He escorted her to a private office and sat looking a grim.
Do you know the story of Ragnarock?
This was not all where she had thought the conversation
would go. She frowned and ploughed her years of stories for the
reference.
Not really, Im aware of the concept, but I dont know the
story in detail.
Theres one part that concerns me in relation to the
coming Winter. In the story when the world ends two great
wolves rise up and devour the Sun and the Moon, plunging all
into darkness.
Cara nodded not really seeing where he was going with
all this.
In order for us to win this war there must be a Sun and a
Moon in the sky. Someone will have to harness them with the
chariots and drive them on their courses.
He watched her carefully, waiting. Comprehension was
slow to dawn on Cara, and when it did she went white and
shock settled over her.
I see, so I shall take the Moon Chariot and return the
moon to the sky. Thus becoming the Moon in essence.
If you dont wish to Im sure Kate would be willing to
accept this burden.
Kate, earthy mother Kate, dutiful and always perfect Kate.
Yes, shed accept the burden. But Kate belonged in the mortal
world; Cara had forsaken it long ago.
No, Ill do my duty. Who will take the Sun Chariot?
I was thinking I would, but if youd prefer the Nocker hes
just as connected to the Sun circlet as I am.
If I have to travel the sky for all eternity, Id rather it were
with you.
Then I shall see you in the dawn and the dusk Cara
Luna, his soft voice offered all the comfort he could give.
She rose, Till then Owain, stay safe.
* * *
Outside she boarded the ship in silence.
Get us out of here, Omar.
The captain looked up at the tense sound of her voice.
Her face was lined, brow furrowed, and her eyes shadowed with
the age of her memory.
18 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
Cara, are you alright?
No, Captain, I am not. Now get this thing in the air.
Turning her back on him, she stalked to the railing.
Waiting for the ship to reach cruising height Cara stroked the
little chimeras fur. He did not quite understand Caras sadness,
but was worried she would leave him behind. On Olympus a
vision had overtaken his little camel brain wherein Cara became
the moon, and left him behind on Earth. They had traveled
together since before she swore her oath. He was her dream, and
hated life without her.
As soon as they were airborne she dropped over the side,
to glide along behind the ship. Knowing full well the only
oath mate with the cantrip to follow her, sat in his office miles
behind.
Every Eshu at some point in their life entertains the concept
of becoming an Orisha. Of passing through some adventure so
glorious that the Orishas would have little choice but to take
you up to join them. That you would suddenly become content
and wise like a grump of the Oba , forgetting your wanderlust as
you became one of the stars above. Few truly mean it. Few Eshu
really wish to leave the road and adventure to others, or have
a mind to watch over others as they have the adventures down
below. Cara, to great dismay, had just gotten offered this wish;
to be Orisha of the Moon.
Never let a namer give you a nickname! She admonished
herself, too late. Her thoughts straying to that happy night long
ago when she became Cara Luna for the first time.
And never swear an oath! So long ago she had ignored
this basic bit of Eshu philosophy, and now she would pay for
it with her freedom. This quest isnt even my dream. Its his.
I dont think he ever even really understood that I swore that
oath for him! That I believe in his vision, and loved him. And
swore away my whole existence!
* * *
To become a creature of pure dreaming one must give up
mortal ties. What is the greatest gift mortality gave through the
changeling way: the ability to not only be a dream, but to create
them. To become a creature of pure dreaming one must give
your dreams. Cara believed she had no more.
For the first of many times Lunas tears rained down
on the fae far below. Then one small dream, made of a long
forgotten childhood desire to see far places and have wondrous
adventures, barreled into the self-absorbed Eshu. The camel
knocked her, smiling, out of both depression and sky towards
the Wintry battle waiting before them.

Dreaming of Bedlam
By Cara (Theresa Kappel)
My memories drift and swirl like the dreams they are.
Writing what has happened is difficult. Certain moments have
simply drifted away from me. For instance I remember entering
the dreaming, but not why.
I had spent many long hours reading tomes sacred to my
house, Eiluned, to find the trods secret. Peter, my Ghille-Dhu
friend, helped me find the trod: in a garden, full of well trimmed
rows of tall bushes and roses. At the back of the garden a massive
towering wall was covered by a huge mural. The painting shows
a jumbled antique store full of strange people.
Theres no memory of opening the trod on Beltane, just
Peter and I walking through. No, Lillian was there too, Peters
kinain finance. Dangerous bringing her, but Lilys skills with
language and writing were too useful. Her help allowed me to
read the texts on the trod. The odd script and language possibly
originating in the time before Autumn, in the early days of my
Houses formation. We walked right through the wall. Inside
the Dreaming/ antique store other visitors/chimera were all
crowded in a big constantly moving line like at an amusement
park, weaving through a maze of stuff: books, candelabras,
tables, and drapes. The silver path winds oddly through this
junkyard appearing store.
I recall passing through an entrance of sorts into a different
part of this realm. There were several natives of this dreaming
realm standing there, more fae and very alien than we. Chimera,
Tuatha, Fomorian, Adhene? I still do not know the truth. They
alternately greeted and completely ignored passers by. Mostly
they dont seem to notice the people filing past, I feel this is a
good thing. As we go by I notice one; tall, with oddly shaped
eyes, antlers (young and curving back a bit), blondish. I do a
double take for some reason wanting him to see me. I look back
a third time and force eye contact; I can hold him with my dark
eyes. As our eyes lock his bored unfriendly expression doesnt
change at all. The three of us pass on. Around us people are
searching for things in the mass of stuff.
Single-file we headed down a long straight passage, still
crammed with people. As we walked I studied the humans
around us, and came to the conclusion that they were indeed
chimera. There to fill out whatever dream had created that
strange place. Somewhere down the path was a field where the
people we seek reside. Then I felt someone touch my shoulder
and he is there. I nearly panic, he says something politely that
works out to
Well its your own damn fault for catching my
attention.
And were gone. The room seems so empty after the
crowded path. There was no furniture or clutter; white/blue
walls like gauze create the ephemeral structure of this place. I
recall insisting that I needed to go back, that Peter and Lillian
wouldnt make it through without my help. In retrospect I
suppose I realized they didnt really need me. Peter was more
than capable of understanding and getting by most of the pitfalls
the fae realm had between us and our goal. Still, I feel that there
was a reason it had to be three of us: a noble, a commoner, and
a human. Three is a number of power everything on a quest has
a meaning and purpose. I worried that theyd fail.
He basically says. Youre not going anywhere. You
changelings are far too incautious with your names: Regina
Mary Llewellyn, human daughter of Elizabeth Mary Brooke and
James Joseph Llewellyn II, also your grace Tara ni Eiluned of
Banyans Hold, or more importantlyCaoimhe.
Clearer than any other memory I have left is the twisting,
wrenching feel of my soul when my true name was spoken. To
save a small part of myself I remember a secret name I gave my
self long ago, before I knew I was a changeling. It wasnt really
enough, but any control of myself was worth trying. My eyes,
before I was able to hold him with my eyes. So, I tried again,
this time things are very different. Eerily I kenned that unlike
a person he could somehow move his soul, this time his eyes
are empty, a vacuum, I fall in. Lost, lost in darkness inside his
mind. I forgot who I was, my thoughts were not my own, my
name wasnt my own. To remember, to get back to myself, I say
the name: the last bit of my name. I returned to myself, having
given up too much.
Ive been wearing this silver chain since, tight around my
neck. On it he inscribes, my name, in a long forgotten script.
I cannot run! He fills me with depression, mind destroying
depression. I draw a silver dagger from somewhere amidst the
strange new clothes I wear. When did I change, where did they
come from? So, much of what has happened I do not understand.
His hand stops me from plunging the knife into my chest. No
smile or any emotion over what he has put me through. The
silver dagger was COLD against my skin. He laid it flat against
by chest. Horrible pain, like a heart attack, I scream, but cannot
draw breath to scream again. Abruptly the pain stops I fell onto
a bed not there before. By his will I take the bladeI can
remember only agony. On the blade three drops of my hearts
blood. Now in a vial around his neck. My body feels sickeningly
weak.
Time must have passed somewhere. There was a tree stolen
from the mortal world, a bonsai, near a window. I can recall its
branches in spring, and then fall. Though the temperature of
the air, and the forests outside never changed. Autumn reigned
eternal there. Often I pondered for hours, my thoughts forming
in drifts in the air, if this was a reflection of the Autumn times
in the mortal world? How long in this nearly timeless place till
Winter would arrive, and what would happen when it did?
In addition to the tree I found one way in which my captor
aged. His antlers grew. Part of me knew that Peter and Lillian
were still lost and wandering, time dragging on them as if in the
real world. Would age and die before reaching their goal? I ask
my lord a boon and he agrees. Very carefully I place my words
so Peter and Lillian can find those they seek and return with
them safely home by the end of the next mortal season. Fast,
so fast they are gone; I can sense the exact moment they leave
me here alone.
Chapter One: The Week of Winter 19
 Ephemeral, constantly changing, lacking in solidity, alien
and strangeDid I simply see the dreaming as he did? Or had
we passed into some realm so displaced from the mortal world
that no constancy held there? It warps me and my thoughts.
Little there is new, or growing, and the changes mean nothing.
Little true emotion passes there. Delights and horror each are
inconsequential. How can I make you understand what it means
to live there always? New life and experience could only come
from so far away.
Knowledge of mortal doings floated on the wind. I knew
when Lillian was pregnant; I wanted to see the child. Mists
parted like curtains at my touch, I no longer needed cantrips. I
could see her, Lily, and reached out to her, wanting to touch her
belly, the child. She saw me and freaked out warding me off with
gestures old as time.
The next time I tried to see Lillian she is in the hospital.
My lord told me that if I desired the child I should simply take
it. There in that place, in my unsteady mind the idea sounded
right! Never did it strike me as being the hurtful, horrible act
it was. Somehow I didnt understand anymore what that would
mean in reality. Once the child was born they placed him in a
room with other babies, despite Lillians attempts at protesting.
Easily I step into the hallway; the Dreaming followed me, a fog
20 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
bank on my heels. There I reach, straight through glass, to take
the child. Unobserved Peter is there, next to the child, on the
other side. At first I see him as a human in jeans and a Welsh
dragon T-shirt, but upon seeing me he becomes more fey to my
eyes; soft green tinted hair growing long over a cloak of green
leaves, vines curling from his beard to touch his emerald tunic,
sage eyes flashing. A sword passed through the glass and rested
against the hollow of my throat, he did not know me! Peter
only knew that I was steal his child. From my clothes I draw the
silver dagger, the sword tip presses closer. Cutting the string on
small leather pouch around my neck, my last real object from
the mortal world. I toss it to the child and leave. The pouch
dissolved before reaching the child only the smooth amethyst
inside remains.
The years I spent there in the dreaming flow together
defined only when the mortal world intrudes. My lord had a
mortal he wished to woo. I still understood time better than he
ever would. Knowing he would be gone for at least two years I
decide to visit Peter and Lillian though I know he would not
wish me to. Yet, I wondered if hed even remember me upon
returning, or simply forget all about me. One can but hope.
Through dreams I urged those within Peter and Lilys house to
open a door in such a way at such a time to create a trod for me. I
did not recognize the one who opened the way: a teenager, with
my amethyst as a pendant.
Peter soon entered called by the surge of glamour in his
own home. A grump now, he curses not knowing who I was, but
remembering the hospital incident. A sword again touches my
throat. As I tried to explain I realized he couldnt understand
me! Peter called to Lillian; warning her of the Fomorian. I tried
to explain, but he would not let me speak for fear of cantrips.
Lillian entered, a new child on her hip, carrying a silver
bell and a cold iron hook! Peter clenches his teeth and takes
the hook in his off hand, his sleeve on that arm fading back to
a simple T-shirt. Twice she rung the bell, and piercing pain shot
through my head. But I couldnt take my eyes off the new child.
How much time had passed? I reach towards the baby and Peter
swings with the hook. Blood blossomed running heavily down
my arm; the edges of the wound looked almost burnt. Compared
to the rest of my mien the blood looking surprisingly real and
clear. Pain froze me momentarily; then I locked my gaze with
Peter. He couldnt move. While he couldnt harm me I quickly
told, in plain English this time, who I was. No one relaxed, but
they lowered weapons.
Lily approached and looked at the chain around my neck.
She could read what few others could. Intently she stared at my
face trying to see her friend of so long ago in the faded glamour
warped mien I constantly wore. She believed me.
Through the house I drifted at once too quick to see, and
yet clearly visible in brief moments, like watching someone in
a strobe light. I remember being barefoot. From the bookshelf I
pull Grimms Faerie Tales. The book looked strange in my hands,
very real, colorful and solid. My hands seemed gauzy or fuzzy,
almost like a ghost. I gestured to all the books of folklore around
the room, and said that I could tell stories the like theyve never
imagined.
I swear by the Dreaming to do no harm to their family;
then ask to hold the baby. Lillian hesitates, but Peter was found
he could nearly see the oath upon me. For awhile I stayed.
Simply listening to their real lives, catching up and listening to
them and their oldest child was the most wonderful experience.
Lillian wrapped a wet paper towel around the bleeding scratch
on my arm, no apologies were given.
Peter had been creating a story from before the Shattering.
From his mind I pulled the plot and added another true fae
easily. Others changelings came that night many Eshus, to hear
the story Or one of the nights I was there, or perhaps many
timesThey seem surprised but un-phased by my presence. As
he shares the latest chapter I clothe everyone in voile to match
the characters, and I made the characters cantrips appear.
Unable to sleep I wandered reading, going online, and
nibbling things while they dream. As time passed I become more
real, even able to drop the near consent wyrd affect I seemed
to carry. The teenager questioned me constantly. I tried not to
teach him anything unusual, though occasionally I failed as my
Eiluned perception of mortal understanding of gremayre wasnt
the best even before the dreaming.
A year and a day since I appeared, earlier than I expected,
my lord appeared. Too my great surprise hed noticed I was gone
and looked furious; more emotion than Id ever seen in him.
Without raising a finger he dragged me to him, and flung me to
the floor at his feet raving about loyalty and betrayal and pain.
My bandage fell aside to reveal the unhealed, still bleeding, mark
of cold iron. Murderously he turned on Peter. I stood between
then and begged to go home.
The story continues to spin from Peter. I stole their
memories of my visit. Yet, I remain in fiction a character stolen
away by a fae old even among his kind. Like the character in
the story Ive now been here so long some days I cant even
remember the mortal world. Unlike his book there is to be no
happy ending; true stories rarely end especially on happy notes.
I dragged there moments out of my fluid memory to help remind
me, or at least someday serve to warn the rest of my House of the
Dreaming true dangers
Chapter One: The Week of Winter 21

The Satyr in Love
By Gatharion
Templeton sipped his rum and smiled. This was the first
time that he had been in the Zodiac Caf, and he couldnt
believe his good fortune. The caf was really nothing to speak
of, slow service, mediocre dcor, and filthy restrooms, but a girl
named Melody had just taken the stage. She had fair skin, long
raven hair, brilliant wide eyes, and wore a short black dress.
As she adjusted the microphone, Templeton mused that he
found this girl very pretty, if not in a conventional sort of way.
Shed certainly look out of place in that sorority that Jennifer
is in, thought Templeton, thinking of his banal younger sister.
Templeton put away such thoughts as the girl Melody began to
sing.
Shes slightly off-key and her stage presence is entirely
too timid. A beautiful if ill-trained voice, though, cawed the
bespectacled raven on Templetons shoulder, unseen or heard by
the others in the caf.
Hush, Anodos, whispered Templeton just loudly enough
to earn a quizzical look from the nearest patron at the bar.
* * *
Melody sat quietly at her back table, sipping her tea
and thinking over her earlier performance. Tonight had been
especially slow for her, only ten dollars in tips and one purchase
of her CD. I never should have left the music school, she
thought, I need a lot more training and decent connections if
I ever want to get out of that cubicle. Melody looked at her
scant tips and basket of unsold CDs again. Who am I kidding,
she thought, I could never make it as a professional singer. I just
dont have what it takes.
You have a beautiful voice.
Melody had been so lost in thought that she hadnt seen
the man approach. His voice had startled her, making her spill
tea all over the table and her dress.
Oh, Im so sorry, said the man. Here, let me help you.
He quickly produced some paper napkins and handed them to
Melody so she could blot her dress while he wiped down the
table. Im so sorry, he said again. I didnt mean to startle you.
Are you all right?
Yeah, Im fine, said Melody, feeling a bit flustered. Its a
good thing this is a black dress. You cant hardly tell where the
spill is.
Let me get you another cup of tea.
No, dont bother. I was about to leave anyway.
Thats a shame. I was hoping that you would do another
set.
Melody smiled and looked at the man. He looked to be
in his early twenties and had long brown hair and well defined
cheekbones- but it was his eyes that caught her. They were a clear
bluish-green. The color of the ocean, she thought. Thanks,
she said, looking away from his ocean eyes. I sing here every
Tuesday and Thursday. Melody looked back up at him, smiled
again, and then started walking towards the door.
22 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
I look forward to seeing you again, then, he called after
her as she walked away.
You call yourself a satyr, much less a member of House
Fiona, said Anodos. You didnt even tell her your name, much
less get her phone number.
Templeton looked up from the CD he had bought earlier
to face his chimerical friend. She has a beautiful smile, he
said.
* * *
Templeton had every intent to return to the Zodiac Caf
that Thursday, but instead, he found himself accompanying the
local court in a fruitless search for a suspected Dauntain in the
area.
On Tuesday he arrived very early in the evening and was
still nursing his first beer when Melody walked in. She did a
quick scan of the room, and her eyes met Templetons. He gave
her a smile and tipped an imaginary hat. She returned the smile,
but quickly looked away and started towards the backroom of
the caf.
Im sorry, came Anodos piercing caw, but am I
missing something? She was right there, why didnt you say
something?
Not time yet, mumbled Templeton.
Well, far be it for me to question the master at work. But
you certainly are taking your time with this one.
* * *
Melody was just sitting down after her set when the guy
with the long hair and ocean-colored eyes showed up holding a
cup and small pot of tea.
I dont know if you remember, but Im the jerk who spilled
tea on you last week, and I wanted to make it up to you, he said
with a hesitant smile.
How could I forget my only fan, she said. But you
shouldnt have felt obligated, Im the one who spilled the tea
after all.
Thats not true, he said, and paused, briefly, Im sure
you have plenty of fans.
Melody glanced at her meager tips and the same old pile
of unsold CDs. Do tell.
Ah. Well, this place doesnt exactly attract the big
spenders does it? But I can tell you that when youre up there
singing, youve got the crowds attention. They might not show
it with their wallets, but theres hardly a peep out of anyone
when youre on stage.
Melody looked about the noisy caf and thought about
how quiet they had seemed while she was performing. Maybe I
do have some talent, she thought.
Ocean Eyes continued, Im sure that more guys would
come tell you how they liked your music, but are too embarrassed
to come and talk to such a pretty lady. Or maybe they dont want
to risk making you spill your tea. Melody chuckled and the guy
held out his hand. My name is Templeton by the way.
Melody, she said, shaking his hand. Melody Turner.
Well Melody, Templeton said, You sing here on Tuesdays
and Thursdays right?
Thats right, said Melody. Pretty much every week.
Where do you perform the rest of the week?
 Oh, this is the only place, Melody said, looking away
with a little embarrassment.
Does that mean that youre available on Fridays? Say,
this Friday at 7 oclock?
Oh god, she thought, I knew that he was flirting with me.
She was about to make up an excuse when she looked up into
his blue-green eyes. Sure, she said.
* * *
As Templeton trotted up to Melodys door, Anodos
lightly perched on one of the satyrs horns, invisible to the
unenchanted. Do you really think that tulips were the right
choice? Templeton asked the chimerical raven.
Anodos bent his head down, looking over the round wire
spectacles that rested on his long beak. I thought we went over
this. Tulips are nice, sort of playful, and not too committal.
Whats the worst that could happen anyway? She turns out to
be allergic to tulips, breaks out in hives, and never wants to
see you again. No big deal, its not like its Lady Elysania from
the Dukes court. Its just some mortal girl. Youve bedded and
mused hundreds just like her. Besides, its too late to change
your mind about the tulips. Were here.
The birds got a point, Templeton thought. What is it
about this time, this girl, thats making me so nervous? Putting
his thoughts aside, Templeton stepped up to the door and
knocked lightly. A few moments later Melody opened the door.
She was wearing a simple red dress and had her long dark hair
done up in small curling braids. I brought you some flowers,
Templeton said, thrusting out a large bouquet of brightly colored
tulips. I wasnt sure which color to get, so I got a few of each
hoping that youd like at least some of them.
Melody gave Templeton one of her lovely smiles and took
the flowers from him. Theyre beautiful, thank you. Wait here
while I go put them in a vase and grab my purse.
While she was inside Anodos clacked his beak, She left
the door open. Want me to take a quick buzz about inside, make
sure the walls arent painted with blood, locate the bedroom,
and all that good stuff?
No.
No? Not even to see if shes got any good lingerie?
Knock it off, Templeton said reaching up to brush the
raven off of his horns.
What was that? asked Melody as she stepped back
outside.
Oh, nothing, said Templeton, trying to look as though
he was just scratching his head. Shall we go?
For dinner they went to a nice Greek restaurant owned
by a grump satyr that Templeton knew. The old goat gave
Templeton a knowing wink as he and Melody entered. After
dinner, they went out swing dancing. By the time the club
closed, they were so wound up that they decided to take a long
walk around downtown before eventually heading back to the
car and Melodys home.
When they got to Melodys front door, she awkwardly
clutched her purse in one hand and Templetons hand in the
other. Its been awhile since Ive been on a date, she said.
Thanks for showing me a good time, its the most fun that Ive
had in ages. She squeezed his hand.
He returned the squeeze. Hey, any time. Ive never had
a better dance partner.
Youre such a flatterer, she said looking into his
captivating eyes. I know that its really late, but would you like
to come in for some coffee before you go? She gave a slight
smile, or some tea? Ill try not to spill it this time.
Templeton felt the lust rising within him, but then he
thought of what Anodos had said earlier and that wink the grump
had given him. No, he thought, I cant. She doesnt deserve to
just be another notch on my belt. Besides the girl really does
have talent, I should take my time musing her. Jumping into a
physical relationship is just going to muddle that. Id love to,
he said. But I really should get home, its almost dawn.
Melody looked away from Templeton and towards the
brightening East. Right, of course. She kept her face away
from Templeton, afraid that it had gone beet red.
But I would like to see you again, Templeton said quickly.
Are you free again this weekend?
* * *
Templeton walked into his apartment whistling. He had
been up for almost twenty-four hours, but he was still running on
adrenaline. He had just had a great night, even without having
gotten laid, and would be seeing Melody again that evening.
Anodos flew across his bedroom and landed on his dresser.
All right, off with them, he announced loudly.
Excuse me?
Your trousers, off with em. I want to make sure that your
balls are still there, the chimera cawed. The girl that youve
had a hard-on for for two weeks invites you in and you turn her
down? I want to make sure that your testicles havent shriveled
up and fallen off.
Maybe I just didnt want to encourage your voyeuristic
tendencies, Templeton said, jumping into bed still fully
clothed.
* * *
Chapter One: The Week of Winter 23
 Over the next few months Templeton and Melody saw
each other a great deal, and despite Templetons newfound
noble impulses, it was not long before they had consummated
their budding relationship. Right from the start, Templeton did
what he could to encourage Melodys music career. He pressed
her to practice more, got her to start voice lessons again, and
even used his connections with the kithain to get her a gig at
the Spinning Wheel, a coffee shop with slightly more affluent
customers than the ones at the Zodiac Caf.
As Templeton contentedly sat in the Spinning Wheel
one Wednesday evening listening to Melody sing a new song
that the two of them had just written, he heard a familiar voice
behind him.
Well met, Sir Templeton. You as well Anodos. It has been
some time since we have had the pleasure of your company at
court. The voice was very deep, but gentle as well.
Thats what Ive been trying to tell him, Anodos cawed.
Have a seat, Sir Mandrake, said Templeton pulling out a
chair, but keeping his eyes on Melody.
A massive troll with short-cropped blond hair sat down
next to the satyr. So thats the dreamer that youve been seeing.
Shes pretty. Nice voice, too. How serious are you about her?
Much more serious than I would have suspected at first.
The troll knight shook his head. If you really care about
her, youll break it off now before it goes much further.
Templeton looked at him scowling, Why? Because shes
mortal? he hissed under his breath.
Relationships between our kind never work out well, you
know that. Shes not a part of our world and never can be. Not
for any length of time leastways.
Yeah, I know all that, he said wistfully. Sometimes it
really gets to me, all of the beauty and splendor that I cant share
with her. She cant even know about Anodos here. The satyr
turned back to face his lover on the stage. I think that it will
always pain me how much Ill never be able to tell her to show
her, but Im willing to deal with that to be with her. To hear her
singing and see that smile.
In any case, I didnt seek you out to tell you how to lead
your life, Sir Mandrake said, ruefully. I came to enlist your
service as a knight of the realm. Remember those rumors about
a Dauntain that we looked into some months ago?
I do, said Templeton smiling to himself. That was the
same week that I met Melody.
They werent just rumors. A week ago a childling was
found dead and last night Sir Lynsel and his squire fought him
not three blocks from here. They both escaped, but only just.
Sir Lynsel says that the Dauntain wields a vicious black blade
that nearly eviscerated his squire. Were hunting the bastard
down tonight. I want you with us.
Templeton answered without taking his eyes off of Melody,
Of course.
Well you can count me out, Anodos said. Im not much
use in a fight, much less against one of those monsters.
24 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
Take your lady home, Sir Templeton, and then fetch the
sword you seem to have stopped carrying, and meet us at the
freehold. The troll stood and pulled a long chimerical dirk
from his belt and handed it to Templeton. Return it to me
after youve retrieved your own blade.
Hey there, Ocean Eyes, Melody said as she walked up to
their table. Im all through for the night. Whos your friend
here?
Templeton stood up and took Melodys hand. This is
my old friend Si- uhSimon, Simon Mandrake. Simon this is
Melody. Simon and I um, went to school together.
Smooth, chirped Anodos.
I need to get going, Templeton, but Ill see you later, the
large troll said as he headed towards the exit.
I agreed to meet him and some of the old gang for beers
later tonight, Templeton said. But Ive got enough time to
walk you home first. Shall we go?
Melody frowned like something was troubling her, but she
took her lovers arm and walked out of the building with him.
* * *
Melody was surprised by how dark and cold it had gotten
outside. We must be well into Autumn now, she thought. I had
forgotten how early it gets dark. The street lamps are already
lit. She cuddled up closer to Templeton as she felt a chill breeze
blow by.
As they made their way home they came across a man
leaning against an unlit street light. Melody couldnt say why,
but there something about the man that made her nervous. She
felt Templeton grip her tightly. He feels it too.
The man, whose features were obscured under the dark
lamp, stepped onto the sidewalk, blocking their path. Fear
not, lady, he said with an oddly hollow voice. This perverted
creature will not violate you ever again. He then held up an
object. It looked like an umbrella, but he brandished it like a
weapon.
Is this a j-, she was about to say joke, but the look of
grim seriousness on Templetons face stopped her. What is this?
Do you know this guy? She saw that Templeton had taken out
a ball-point pen and was holding it like it was a knife.
Make your peace with whatever dark gods you worship,
perversion, the man said, looking directly at Templeton. I
have come for you. Your Endless Winter begins now!
Do you want something? Melody asked, feeling cold and
confused. You can have our money. Just take it and leave us
alone. She held her purse out towards the stranger.
Get out of here, Melody, Templeton shouted. Run
home and lock the door. This man is dangerous.
Liar! roared the stranger. I am here to save her from
you and the rest of your unnatural kind. The man then ran at
Templeton, swinging his umbrella with both hands. Her lover
jumped backwards away from the umbrella and slashed at the
man with pen he was holding.
The two of them began circling each other swinging,
blocking, and dodging with their strange weapons. Melody
would have taken it for some sort of childrens game, if it werent
for the murderous look in both mens eyes. Stop it! Stop it!
Melody shouted, tears streaming down her face. Suddenly,
although Melody could see no reason why, the stranger screamed
and arched his back as if he had just been struck.
Thanks Anodos, Templeton said as lunged towards the
stranger with his pen.
Anodos? Melody said, feeling even more frightened and
confused.
The stranger parried Templetons pen and took a step back.
Here, lady, he intoned, let me reveal to you the demonic
visage and dark familiar of your companion. He then stepped
towards Melody and swung his umbrella at her.
Melody raised her arm and flinched, anticipating the
blow, but no impact came. Instead, she felt an intense warmth,
like standing in the Summer sun. Her head swam and she felt
disconnected from her surroundings and her own body, like
being in a dream. When she opened her eyes, the stranger
loomed before her. He seemed like a black hole in human form,
draining all of the light from the world. In his hand was a black
sword that he used to fend off the furious blows from the silver
dagger in Templetons hand. Templeton.
Was that Templeton? This thing fighting the dark man
had Templetons face, but there were horns sprouting from his
head and his legs, his whole bottom half, were covered in coarse
hair and ending in hooves. Like an animal. Like a demon. It
was his eyes, though- there was no mistaking his ocean-colored
eyes. Every time this odd goat-demon-Templeton struck at
the dark man, it seemed to pain him and his weapon flickered
between being a dagger and being a pen, like a flashlight with
dying batteries. Stop fighting him, she thought, its killing you.
Anodos! Templeton called. Get her out of here before
she gets hurt.
A raven wearing eyeglasses flew out of the sky and landed
right in front of her. You heard him, Melody, the raven said.
Were getting you away from this place before either of us is
hurt. The raven took to wing and started flying away from
the terrible battle before her. Confused and numb, Melody ran
after the raven. She ran as fast as she possibly could and did
not look back. Soon, the sounds of grunts and clashing blades
died away.
* * *
Templeton tossed the dirk, still sticky with blood, onto
his bed and slumped into a chair. He wasnt sure how long he
had been sitting there when Anodos flew in through an open
window.
Thank the fates, the chimera said with obvious relief. I
thought that I had lost you for certain that time.
Itll take more than that to get rid of me, Templeton
replied with a tired smile. Do me another favor now though.
Take that dirk back to Mandrake. Thank him for me and tell
himtell him that the problem has been taken care of.
Sure thing, the raven said. picking up the dirk in his
talons and flying over to the window sill. Ill be back in two
shakes. You try to get some rest.
Templeton stood up and walked over to the window.
Thank you, he said. Thank you for taking Melody home.
No problem, Anodos cawed. I know how much she
means to you.
Templeton watched Anodos fly away until the chimera
was out of sight and then he watched a few Autumn leaves fall
gently to the ground from a tree outside the window. He walked
over to his stereo and put in the CD that he had bought from
Melody on that first night in the Zodiac Caf. As her voice filled
the room, he picked up the CD case with her smiling picture on
the cover and went over to his mirror. The Dauntain was right,
he thought. My Winter has come. He looked at himself in the
mirror, at his curving horns, at his shaggy fur, and at the hooves
where a normal man would have feet. A normal man.
Templeton looked at Melodys picture again, at her smile.
Templeton thought about that smile, how he had thought of
little else during the first week after he had met her. Then he
thought about that night. She hadnt smiled while they were
being attacked because he was fae, and she hadnt smiled after
having been enchanted. This was so much easier when I didnt
care, he thought. I could just walk away from her. Then shed
never have to go through that again, wouldnt have to deal with
a lover who wasnt human.
He paused. I could try to keep her enchanted, bring her
into my world, its not all like tonight. He looked over to where
the bloody dirk had lain on his bed and down at his own body,
bruised, battered, and splattered with chimerical blood. But it
would always be just that, my world. not our world.
I could go to court. Theyd call me a hero. The duke
himself would probably raise his glass to me. But then theyd all
start looking for the next battle, and another champion to toast.
He looked at he picture yet again and listened to Melodys gentle
voice playing through the speakers. Or I can go to a woman
who will love me whether or not I can slay dragons.
He looked back in the mirror. This time, he looked past
the horns. He remembered the shoes that he had put on that
morning and looked down to see them on his feet.
Templeton Smith yawned, not sure why he felt so
exhausted and sore. He laid down on his bed and slept. He
slept for a long time, and if he had any dreams while sleeping he
did not remember them when he awoke.
* * *
Melody threw herself into Templetons arms when she saw
him standing on her front stoop. I missed you so much last
night! I had the most horrible nightmare.
Templeton held her close and gave her a reassuring smile.
Im here now, he said. Ill make you some breakfast and you
can tell me all about it.
As the two of them walked back into Melodys house, a
raven that neither of them could see flew in protective circles
overhead.
Chapter One: The Week of Winter 25

Miriam and the Dragon
By General Bullet
It was the year of High King David Ardry ap Gwydions
marriage to Faerilyth ap Eiluned. A bardic competition of
immense proportions was to be held at Tara Nar in celebration
of the wondrous occasion. Storytellers and performers from all
over Concordia and even some from across the sea showed to
participate in the event.
Of course, this meant the caravan I lived with, consisting
of a plethora of eshu, made the trip to the capitol. I was more
excited than I could describe, for I was to be entered to tell my
stories.
As a young girl, I ran from my parents in the Kingdom of
Northern Ice, and joined with the caravan, to be able to express
my freedom and live as any eshu should. I had many a great
adventure to share, and knew that my story had to be the most
grandiose I could tell.
It is not surprising, then, when I chose the following tale,
one of my most cherished memories, from before I left my home.
I told it with all the flourish my sweet little eshu mind could
muster, and for my efforts, I was well rewarded.
Here, then, is the prize-winning tale, which brought tears
to the eyes of the happy couple.
* * *
It was the last day of summer holidays. We were all yearning
for grandiose adventures, like those told of dashing knights and
fair maidens. We were a ragtag bunch, carefree and happy, as
only childlings can be.
It was William, a sidhe squire, who decided that we should
go to Willow Island. There is a beautiful freehold there, and lots
of space for us to run around and enjoy our day. Also along were
Flora and Puck, two satyrs; Calix, a pooka; and myself. We were
ready for adventure.
We wondered aimlessly on the isle, searching for adventure.
I was joking around with Calix, when something caught my
attention. There was a crack, almost imperceptible, except to an
adventure-seeking eshu.
I showed my compatriots at once. The crack was exactly
what we were looking for. William insisted in making sure it was
safe, though Calix assured him it wouldnt be. After William was
safely inside, the rest of us followed, sliding into a pocket of the
Dreaming reserved for childlings.
We found a dark cave, and entered apprehensively. William
had drawn his sword, cautioning us to stay behind him. Not that
we listened. Calix and I tried to hop in front of Williams over-
protective stance.
Finally, we came to a cavern. Lying inside was a large purple
dragon sleeping fitfully; low groans punctuating what could only
be truly frightening nightmares (for it must be truly terrifying if
it was disturbing a beast of such size). We stood anxiously on the
edge of the cavern.
William stood his ground, preparing for a ferocious battle.
Leave quickly! If I do not make it, tell my story for ages to
come!
26 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
At Williams proclamation, the beast snorted, and the
others jumped. But as William declared his noble intentions,
I was studying the dragon. Surely the Dreaming didnt bring
us into danger; we were only childlings, not ready to fight
chimerical monstrosities.
And I knew, deep inside, that this beast was not evil.
He had awakened, but had not ventured toward us, nor issued
vile threats. I smiled at the beast, and said: Its safe. He looks
friendly.
William looked dumbfounded. Apparently, in his brave
Gwydion mind, the thought that the creature was tame had
never occurred. Before he could reply; however, the beast spoke:
Please, do not fear me! My name is Dandy, and I will not harm
you.
Calix was the first to enter the cavern. I followed, and
soon the six of us were merrily playing. Flora, Puck and I regaled
Dandy with songs and tales filled with the energy of youth.
Calix told tales of his latest pranks; and William spoke of noble
squires.
Dandy told us that he was lonely; as only childlings could
enter the cavern. He rarely had company, and he was too big for
the exit. I made a solemn vow to visit whenever I could, and so
did the others.
* * *
School had started and we were sitting quietly in Miss
Eddlesons grade five and six class. We were happy to have her
as our teacher, as she was also known as Lady Jana Elwain, an
eshu knight from our court.
She loved telling stories. The first day was a day of stories
and crafts, for schoolwork could wait until we knew each other
better. And one tale in particular caught our attention.
It was the story of the Princess Alnora, who had befriended
a dragon. The dragon, unlike many of its kind, was friendly and
loved children. Our little motley exchanged glances and smiled
secretly. The story ended tragically: the princess had grown up,
and her childhood friend forgotten and replaced by the things
girls love.
When school had ended, I was distraught. There was a
possibility that the dragon was Dandy. If so, that meant that
there was an adult changeling out there who had lost a very
good friend. I was determined to find her, and reunite them, if
possible.
* * *
That autumn, Calix and I spent time with Dandy, the
others coming along when they could. However, my search for
the princess was fruitless until there was a big announcement at
court. Two sidhe nobles were to be married that Beltaine. I then
heard something that made my heart stop: Lady Alnora was the
bride to be. I gasped. Could it be so? Was it the same princess
who knew Dandy?
Our little group decided to greet the fortunate couple.
We wished her well and I handed her a drawing of Dandy. The
picture held a bit of magic, and she gasped his name. You know
this dragon? she whispered.
We do, milady. William responded.
 I had forgotten about him! This memory will not last the
night. May I be so bold as to ask a favor of you?
Success! I smiled and nodded. Id do anything for Dandy.
The excitement crackled in my voice.
Please, give him this necklace, and invite him to my
wedding. I would love to see him. A single tear traced its way
down her cheek at the thought of seeing her friend again.
William agreed, taking the necklace, as we all swore that
we would do what we could.
* * *
Samhain arrived and heralded a new era for our group:
wilder-hood. While William, Flora and Puck made their
transitions; Calix and I clung to the last vestiges of our childhood
a while longer.
I continued my forays into Dandys den, telling him of the
Lady Alnoras wedding. I vowed to do what I could to free him,
at least long enough to attend the wedding.
While the others were absorbed in the coming and goings
of life as wilders, I worked hard to discover the arts by which
Dandy could be set free. My attempts were not successful, and
my friends no longer understood what I was doing.
This ignorance hurt me deeply. It is a truly sad fate to
forget something of the Dreaming, and I mourned my friends
innocence. They had forgotten Dandy, and Dandy, Calix and I
missed their presence.
On the evening of Lady Alnoras engagement party, I
came to Dandys lair. I brought with me a box of chalk, and
illustrated my intentions. I drew a large, ornate door on the side
of the cavern and wished for it to open.
The door materialized before us. My heart pounded as I
heaved it open, and Dandy looked through it. But as he put his
head through, the door started to grow smaller, and in the end,
he only managed to snake his head out. Disappointed, I crawled
through what space was left, as Dandy roared mightily.
Cheer up, Miriam, he said to me, you did your best,
and for a night, all will remember my name. Next time, you will
succeed! He told me to go to the party and tell Alnora that he
would be at the wedding.
Later that night, William, remembering his promise made
in September, found me and handed me Alnoras necklace; As an eshu, she understood my plight, but as a teacher she
which Dandy had given back to William when we first told him knew that I could not stay with her. However, an eshu caravan
of our mission. You take it. Its your mission now, he said, and I was in town. They were to stay until that Beltaine, when there
accepted the necklace with an air of duty, knowing that I would would be a tourney in honor of Lady Alnora and her betrothed,
succeed where I had failed that night. and then they would leave. A place was secured for me in the
* * * caravan, where I could live life as an eshu should.
The seasons passed and still I worked hard to free Dandy. * * *
My parents, however, did not think that I was spending my time Finally, the day of the tourney arrived. I was surprised
wisely, and started to keep me at home to do my homework, when my friends came to bid me farewell, for we would leave
help out around the house, and grow up the way they wanted the next morning, and there would be no chance later that day
me to. to see them. It was the perfect opportunity for freeing Dandy.
The walls began to close in around me, and I could feel my I had prepared myself for one last try. I had written lyrics
freedom slip away. Freedom, which I had taken for granted until to a song to aid my magic. To free Dandy, I needed the help of
that point, was soon a precious commodity, and my mission was my friends.
soon in the background as I struggled against my parents leash.
The fight culminated that winter, when I finally could
stand it no longer. I slipped out the back door and ran to the
only adult I could trust: Lady Elwain.
Chapter One: The Week of Winter 27
 When our little group of friends were all gathered, I The Dreaming smiled upon us that day. As the music
held out the Lady Alnoras necklace. We have a mission to flowed, and the dance went on, I started my cantrip. My friends
accomplish before days end, and I need your help. Of my performance gave me a strength I had never known, and I
friends, only Calix remembered Dandy, but the necklace aided released my spell.
their memories. A crack formed in the wall, which became large enough
I took them to the crack and used my magic to widen it for for Dandy to fly through. With a great roar, Dandy exited the
my older friends. I gave them the music, and Flora played it on cavern which had been his cage for so long. A wave crossed the
her pipes. Puck started a dance, and we all sang: Dreaming, as memories flooded back to those who had known
Dandy. He was free!
Freedom never waits
I remember so little of that day, for I nearly collapsed as
For us to be safe
the magic finished its deed. The others carried me triumphantly
In its sweet embrace!
from the cavern to the wedding, where the guests rejoiced in the
Uhuru is there return of Dandy, the friendly Dragon. Happiest of all, was Lady
For us to breathe Alnora, who was reunited with a very dear childhood friend.
Its fragrant airs! * * *
High King David stood, clapping, as young Miriam
But childhood friend finished, tears of joy in his eyes. Bravo! This is a great story,
for it reminds us all of the glorious days of our youth. To have
In ugly binds
Dandy back where we can all know him is a feat beyond all
Needs a mend:
words. You have freed a treasure, child, and the Dreaming is
For his heart grateful! David came forward, and held out the coveted prize.
Caged for so long Let it be known to all, for her courageous deed, and great re-
Yearns for a new start! telling of it, the young eshu Miriam will forever be one of our
treasured bards!
So give us Freedom;
Uhuru let Dandy
Join the kingdom!

28 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling


See You!
By Nin
He sat in the winter garden huddled within a thick
blanket. The sunshine made the snow seem white and
pure - immaculate and untainted. But he was unable to
gain any enjoyment from that. Today the pain was worse
than ever. If that was at all possible.
In his mind he counted the years that he had been
suffering from this chronic pain. Was it 20 years now?
He summed it up once again: He was 46 years old. It
started when he was about 21. So that made it 25 years
that he had already been enduring this incessant torture.
And how many doctors had he exactly visited? He gave
a contemptuous huff. It had been too many for him to
remember them all.
None of them had found an answer. They had all
been mystified by his sickness and the pains that came with
it. Instead of an answer they had given him medication.
White tablets and pills, colorful capsules and lozenges.
His eyes went to the tube that had been fixed with
a needle to a vein of his lower left arm. The other end of
that tube was connected to a bottle. To a translucent liquid
enriched with something of which the doctors believed
that it would take his pain away.
Oh these fools. Even with the morphine they were
giving him he was never without pain.
There was only one thing that would relieve him and
it was death. Only then he would be free. No more pain
and no more suffering. Whatever would follow, he didnt
care. No hell could be worse than this life. His situation
could only improve with his death. He gave a bitter smile.
That day would not be far. He felt it in every cell of his
body: His days were numbered.
She stood behind him and had her hand on the
backrest of his chair. In a few moments he would notice
the small box. Then his fingers would open the ribbon
with difficulty. Next he would lift the lid, clumsily because
of his pain.
His tired eyes left the infusion. He closed them
for a second and his chin came to a gentle rest on his
chest. When he opened his eyes again he discovered a
small package directly in his lap, wrapped like a gift from
someone. Trembling his fingers searched for the ribbon
tied around this strange present. A brown ribbon, brown
like the earth. Oh how he yearned to rest in peace, covered
by a layer of earth that would protect him from all the
suffering up here. But there was life within him still.
He opened the ribbon and it loosely fell aside. He
noticed the gift-wrap that covered the box. It displayed
autumn leaves, red and brown, the way they glided to
the ground in thousands in the fall. Finally he tore the
wrapping and examined the contents. A box of cigars? He
opened the lid.
She gives a short laugh. How easy it was to foresee
certain behavior if you already knew each other for such
a long time. Next he would pick a cigar, chop off the ends
with his teeth and then light the remaining stump to
smoke it with pleasure.
He carefully spun the cigar between his fingers,
passed it under his nose to appreciate the scent. Sweet and
homely. He removed the ends the usual way and lit the
cigar. The smoke filled his mouth, spicy and smooth at the
same time. He noticed that he was getting a little dizzy. Of
course he hadnt inhaled the smoke into his lungs. This
wasnt his first cigar after all. He was starting to feel fuzzy
and again he closed his eyes.
She left her position behind his arm-chair and sat
in the wicker-chair opposite him. She crossed her legs.
Soon now, soon they would at last be able to talk again.
A familiar ritual that had been repeated every now and
then.
The smoke escaped his mouth and he opened his eyes.
He didnt know which was the first thing that caught his
attention. The essence of the dream that he had inhaled
with the cigar? The memories that it had brought back so
suddenly? The creature that had appeared so unexpectedly?
Probably all of the above at the same time.
Ah, I can see it in your eyes. You do recognize me.
Her full lips twisted and showed the hint of a smile. You
remember? Now that your time has come? She frantically
batted her eyelids.
So his time had come? The words still echoed in his
head. Who was this in front of him? He adjusted his eyes
and fixed them on his counterpart. A living, child-sized
doll that could talk.
It looked familiar somehow. He had met her
before. Like a soft wind that parts the mists his memories
resurfaced. It was only images at first but then all the
knowledge returned which had been suppressed by the
dull gray of everyday-life.
Actilicia! He remembered her name. The other
dolls didnt have a name and didnt compare to her in
any way. Oh, and he had build a lot of dolls. After all
he was considered to be the most adept Nocker of the
Puppetmakers Guild. Goddamned. He was looking his
masterpiece square in the face. She was perfect, a word
that a Nocker would never ever use.
Bite my butt! What are you up to? Whats the
bloody matter anyway?
Once again she batted her eyelids and looked at him
sharply.
Chapter One: The Week of Winter 29
 I opened your eyes with a little bit of magic because
I wanted to see you one more time or rather, I wanted
you to see me one more time before you go. She paused to
let that sink in the way she intended to. Time to remind
you of your promise.
What promise? Have you gone bonkers? We are
through. You are he hesitated Theres nothing else I
can do for you. Fuck, look at yourself, youre
Perfect? she aped him full of contempt. You only
claim that to wriggle out of the oath. No, love, will not
do. She gave him a hateful stare. Do you at all know how
much I suffer because of my imperfection?
He nearly would have laughed right there.
What did you ever know about suffering?
He had been suffering from pain for his whole life
and now just listen to her complaining.
Well, bite my butt, we are through. he added.
She didnt answer and he was already getting his
hopes up that the whole affair was now settled. But then it
seemed to him like she was fiddling with something that
was hidden in her coat-pocket.
He screamed when the pain-attack hit him. The
needle from the infusion ripped out of his vein and the
blood ran down his lower arm in a fine line. He moaned
while he thrashed in his chair.
Well, well, I dont know whether my grasp on the
concept of suffering is at all wrong. She giggled. It was
when I came to you in your workshop and you started
enhancing me that I told you the first time. But you never
listen to me. And then with a much sterner voice You
have never listened to me. It was always like that.
But if you like I will tell you once again old man:
We know each other from way back when you have been
dwelling in other bodies. She pulled the object out of her
pocket with which she had been fiddling before and sat it
in her lap. It was a magical mechanical flower-bud, about
palm-sized and purple.
Gently the artificial blossom-leaves unrolled and at
the same time the pain which had been wracking his body
ebbed away. This magical object was important somehow,
he knew that much. It seemed familiar in some mysterious
way. I remember. he whispered tiredly.
The first time he had seen this treasure was when
Actilicia stepped into his workshop. It must have been
man years ago, he couldnt say exactly when. Back then
30 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
the doll had claimed that the magical treasure was his
property and that she had come back to give it to him.
Provided he would finish the work that he had begun on
her and thereby fulfill the oath that he had sworn.
Although he couldnt really remember any such oath
the thought of owning that mechanical blossom alone was
so enticing that he agreed. That treasure seemed to possess
unique properties, he was sure he felt it. The flower-bud
had the power to attract, to lure and to entangle.
He must have spent month or even years in a row
to spruce up and beautify that doll more and more. But
Actilicia was never satisfied with the results. And then
one day, when he had worked through several days without
sleep or eating, he collapsed with exhaustion.
They had gotten him into a hospital and, following
that, a center for the treatment of psychosomatic illnesses.
That must have been when the memory-loss and the pain-
attacks started.
Theres nothing I can do for you. Well, bite my butt!
Dont you see? Im done for.
The doll shrugged her shoulders. That what you
say every time. she replied in a bored voice. She gently
placed her hand on the blossom and silently looked into
the old Nockers eyes. Then she squeezed and the treasure
in her closed fist sent out a soft wave of glamour when it
was activated.
It took immediate effect. The magic of the treasure
reached out for his heart and ensnared it. No matter how
much he wanted to fight the grip, this time he didnt stand
a chance. His heart, which had fought off the many attacks
successfully up to now, refused to keep on beating. The
blood was starting to pound in his ears, everything turned
black and then was over.
He lay dead in his arm-chair.
Actilicia rose from the wicker-chair and pressed her
cheek against that of the dead man. Softly she whispered
into his ear Well be seeing each other again. Ill wait for
you, Nocker. Your work isnt done yet. The pain and me,
we will be there, waiting for you, as soon as youll be back
in this world.
She pulled her head back with an audible clack and
shrieked with laughter while her face twisted into a mask
of hate.

Bestial War
By Arkanix
He had left his love.
His Eiluned lover, beloved and the mother of his child,
still resting in her womb, as yet unborn. Perhaps a boy, to raise as
his father had not raised him; perhaps a daughter to cherish and
fill his stark world with joy. Perhaps he would never know.
But what was certain was that death could be but a well
timed sword blow away, delivered when his arm had tired of
hewing down the seelie dogs, or when his magic finally failed
him, drained of all will and power. Sitting astride his sweating
war destrier, Folwyn, the great Clydesdale in full battle harness,
shining with new polish where it was not bespattered with mud
and loam from the journey; he felt little joy that the harsh trail
ride was over.
At the head of the war host, ninety-nine strong, he held
his mailed hand up to halt the ducal entourage, signaling that
preparations for night camp were to begin.
Turning the massive horse beneath him with years of
hard-earned skill, he sat in silence, viewing his charges hurrying
to erect mottled tents woven of chimerical chameleon skin and
set the first watch.
At the rear of the seedling camp stood Grolth, Tarrods
loyal oath brother, roaring orders and kicking idle arses as he saw
fit to get the camp set before last light. The Ogre had brought
his clan, his brothers and uncles, cousins and distant relatives.
Almost half the forces were thallain, mostly Goblin engineers
and Ogre strong arms and a few beasties brought in as a feral,
unreliable pack by the enigmatic Beastie, Turune. Tarrod cast
his chill white eyes over to where these misfits prowled on the
borders of the campsite, growling and tussling with each other
in the tussock.
In the center of the sandy terrain rose the command tent,
already shifting in color to blend with the arid plain. There
Tarrods Sidhe knights unpacked maps and set up the war table,
awaiting his arrival. But their Commander would not be there
for a time, as he had divested himself of his heavier items of
Armour and was digging the latrine alongside a pair of Ogre
grunts.
Why did he muck in with the commoners?
Many years under the rule of others, he had fast learned
that leaders who stood back and watched, rather than pitching
in with the lower ranks, garnered no respect from the troops.
Tarrod considered the task therapeutic at least, taking his mind
from the moil of battle plans.
But the task was completed far too quickly, and he was
forced eventually to attend to his Sidhe officers. It was not that
he disliked their company; but he did sometimes find more in
common with the lower ranks.
Sir, the Beast scouts report Pooka sightings in the Waiouru
Township, and a few non-military Sidhe. Their movements were
far too coordinated to be a sight seeing trip, and the reports also
state that even the Pooka seemed cowed and careful with their
tongues.
Tarrod nodded curtly,
Send the Boggie to poison the township water supply.
Then have the chief arsonist torch the highest charging local
hotel to flush out the mincing seelie elves.
As one, his officers nodded in return. By your order, Lord
Tarrod.
With that, the towering Sidhe Duke dismissed them, and
prepared for a sleepless night.
* * *
The war host welcomed morning, as the Great Central
Desert was not a warm place once the golden orb of the celestial
globe sunk behind the grandeur of Mount Ruapehu.
Activity was muted and careful, as the Beastie pack still
toyed with the remains of a Sluagh scout...pallid innards spread
halfway around the perimeter of the camp.
Within half an hour, all was packed to a minimum, and
the warhost rested in sandy hollows, out of sight from prying
eyes.
Real steel and real Armour glimmered in the morning
light...few chimerical weapons were carried at all, and not a few
of Tarrods host packed mundane firepower, though the firearms
were well concealed.
Why this choice?
It was simple. Due to the fortuitous filming of The Lord of
the Rings in the Waiouru desert, Tarrods men could walk freely,
armed to the teeth with medieval weaponry. To back up the
charade, several Goblin Cameramen roved about, carrying
violently powerful blunderbusses crafted to look like cameras.
Tarrods long, tapered ear twitched.
Sir? Questioned Arawn, a young but competent knight.
Those close to the Duke knew his quirks - his body displayed
impending danger more often than not, a gift inherited from his
father; an inbuilt sense of threat.
In a low whisper, the Duke called to his satyr runner,
Spread the word to prepare for battle. With a fearful nod, the
satyr left in a spray of sand and a flash of hairy hocks.
Patience.
Tarrod waited, his nerves slowly calling stronger in
warning.
His plan was simple; the seelie must pass through this
section of the desert to avoid Kaiouri forest. The forest would
have been the perfect place for an unseelie ambush, and thus
the cowards avoided it. Instead, they chose the open desert,
hoping to spot hostile forces early.
Their plan was fairly flawless, for a decent ambush would
be almost impossible to carry out. Tarrods troops hid in hollows,
the best concealment available save for patches of tussock.
But he did have a plan.
Waiting...
His ear twinged again, and even he noted it this time.
With a final nod to his conjurer, Rulter the Sane, Tarrod drew
the smaller of his two swords, a treasured rapier, the wedding gift
from an ally and friend.
Then the chaos began.
Chapter One: The Week of Winter 31
 The Beastie pack arose as a single group, all in full beast
form. Even the Iron Willed Duke shuddered and closed his eyes
briefly at the horrific sight of wholly alien and terrible forms
they wore - tentacles, claws, stalks, horns, fleshless limbs, ichor
dribbling orifices and worse.
The seelie scouts fell into the trap first. Unable to resist
the urge to spill Beastie blood they charged blindly into the
waiting clutches of the horrors. In a few brief seconds, nothing
remained, save for tattered scraps of mangled flesh and few
lonely Satyr hooves, apparently indigestible.
Next came the seelie warhost, also falling to the Beastie
madness...at least a hundred in strength; chimerical banners and
pennons flying high, bursting with ethereal colors. Chimerical
mail painfully bright, chimerical blades glittering with arcane
energy.
It was almost saddening to watch.
Goblin weaponry tore massive holes in the first ranks.
Then lethal cold iron claymore mines ripped through the
next, unaffected by piddling cantrips and chimeric Armour.
Spears launched from the hands of Ogre marksmen, and
longbows bent under the same gray-blue thews.
Carnage.
But still the seelie came.
Tarrods host rose from the sand and met the charging
seelie whelps head on; the dark forces absorbing their Beastie
brethren protectively. Blood flew high into the sky, and real
steel clove past chimerical Armour unimpeded. Shotgun blast
rang out, and Tarrods officers rode their great destriers, firing
aimed shots with pistols of personal choice and slashing with
cavalry sabers.
Still they came, but thin and broken.
Or were they?
Tarrods eardrum burst. Blood trickled down his jaw-line
to splatter on his already soaked Armour as his rapier skewered
a doomed Satyr pikeman.
Summoning all of his strength, the Sidhe Duke roared,
RETREAT! NOW! FLEE! But it was perhaps already too
late.
Great titans of shaggy fur materialized amongst his forces
and began tearing his troops to shreds. An enormous clawed
Garou hand tore the torso of an Ogre grunt clean in half; heads
caved under supremely strong blows and bones snapped like
pathetic twigs in an apocalyptic hurricane.
Tarrod waded into the thick of it, his Armour crumpling
under an assault of primeval power. He impaled the werebeast
on his blade only to see the beast toppling down to crush him.
Bracing for the impact, only his oath brother, Grolth, spear
tackling the wounded beast with the force of a garbage truck,
saved him.
Saved, the two battled desperately, falling back rapidly,
along with the warriors hardy enough to withstand the first
assault. Stunned, both he and Grolth realized that but twenty-
seven warriors remained of the original force. A werebeast fell,
chest letting though sunlight from the harrowing blast of a
32 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
goblin blunderbuss. Turune and his Beastie brethren were not to
be seen - perhaps the feral ones were too cunning to be caught
in the trap.
Another seven warriors fell to one were-titan.
Tarrod almost wept as he realized that it could be his time
to draw Tasslarion, his cursed blade, reputed to take the soul of
the wielder after battle, and entrenched in ancient prophecy.
Tasslarion her name, the Black Widow sword. Take will
she the soul of the hand that wields her after she hath slain thy
foe. Naught will save thee, master of the Widow. These words
are absolute.
The next thing the Duke knew was the brutal force of
what seemed to be a mammoth punch sending him reeling
forward to pitch forward into the sand.
But the sand never came.
His heart fluttered several times before he finally hit
something solid with enough force to knock all the air from his
lungs and leave him dizzy and disoriented.
Large hands grappled him and he was lifted from the
ground roughly as his senses slipped from him...until oblivion
finally claimed him.
* * *
The smell of wet fur awoke him.
Still groggy, his white eyes focused blearily on his
surroundings.
He was propped up against the wall of a cave, his remaining
men scattered about him in various states of repair, some gouting
blood, and others covered in mild scratches and slashes.
His own right arm was totally numb, and the Armour
covering his left breast was so crumpled that it heavily
constricted his breathing. To the side crouched a dark group
of creatures and the entire Beastie pack, unharmed throughout
all adversity.
Turune. What has happened, Gasped the Duke.
A guttural grunt in return, then, Garou. Fuzzies.
Werefreaks...present company excluded, So saying with a nod
to the dark hulks behind him. Continuing,
Lucky I got some acquaintances that like to hang around
with my pack sometimes. By the way, welcome to the Umbra.
The wolflike Beastie grinned widely, baring rows of yellowed
fangs.
Tarrod gaped, then clamped his jaw shut as he tore
through the straps holding his breastplate on and levered it off
to allow a full breath, Great Danu...the Dancers of the Dark
Reel saved us? Turune simply grinned wider and then began
guttural barking and growling to the saviors.
The Duke turned to his men and surveyed their situation.
Five would not live, no matter how skilled a healer attended
them. Four were crippled enough that they would suffer for
long months if they managed to survive. Others ranged from
a few broken bones and slashes to flesh wounds, leaving only
ten warriors of fighting strength, excluding the two Goblin
survivors.
Damn.
 Turune chuckled a reply, Sums the situation up quite
accurately my lord, were quite deep in it. He paused to itch his
furry armpit, You see, were not safe. The only decent hidey-
hole we could come up with was the Nightmare realms of the
warm friendly Umbral dimensions. A lovely place. I estimate
well last an hour before we get milled under what passes for the
ground by the Umbrood.
We cant just come out of the Umbra here? Queried
Tarrod.
The Beastie shrugged, If you want to walk straight back
into the arms of the fuzzies you can. Our pals are doing their best
to distract them, but Im afraid we need to travel quite a distance
before were safe.
Attempting to rub some life back into his maimed arm,
the Sidhe Duke simply rose to his feet and tended to those who
could be saved.
* * *
The Nightmare realm was surreal to say the least. The
fae were disoriented and out of place, following the lead of their
dubious allies as fast as they were able. Attacks ranged from
mutant things that could have come from a trashy two-dollar
comic book, to weird humanoids that were strangely familiar.
Tarrods mind fumbled in the strange reality and he focused on
those he knew, Choppa the Goblin, Grolth and Kollos the Ogres
and the enigmatic Turune. It was some time before he noted the
three new additions to the desperate band of survivors.
Adhene, rasped Rulter the Sane, Old fae, wholly of the
Dreaming. Balor only knows what they are doing here. I just
thank the Dreaming for more blades
Bone weary and wounded from another mind wrenching
skirmish, Tarrod did little but welcome the addition of fae
allies.
the blade from the chimerical elder drake scabbard as hesitantly
* * *
as he dared, the prospect of his immortal soul being lost to a
Now they walked a plain of brown dust that all knew was
weapon enough to shake him to the core.
old, powdered blood. The sky was a swirling, chaotic silver and
Then chaos exploded about him once more. A wave of
scarlet above them, and black fragments of crystal rained fitfully
jet-black fur broke over OtNerros. Bloods of hues that Tarrod
from the sky. All but one of the Black Spirals had now left, the
would hopefully never see again gouted in geysers over the dusty
others fighting a rear-guard action against the Garou pursuing
plain. Black claws tore into shifting flesh, and great wolf jaws
them.
clamped over molten bones.
Without warning, the dusty earth seethed upwards and
Dropping the blade back with a cry of surprise, the Duke
was shrugged aside by a pair of monolithic shoulders mottled
and his companions watched as the pack of frenzied Black Spirals
with shifting skin, in patches reptilian, in others, human, then
battled the thing with abandon.
melting into feathers or fleshy wattles. The thing crawled/
A gauntleted hand grasped Tarrod by the shoulder and
walked/twitched towards them on a multitude of morphing
turned him around to stare directly into the visage of his Balor
limps, crooning softly, I am OtNerros, and you walk my land.
ally, eye-patch and sardonic smile more welcome than all the
Before the party could even blink, a vast silver digit
gold in to world. With a florid bow the Balor Sidhe drawled,
speared their were-guide.
My Lord Tarrod, would you care to accompany me back to your
The Black Dancer twitched convulsively, weakly grappled
hold?
at the silvery claw, then crumpled like a wet sack of paper.
Grasping his friends arm in a warriors embrace, the duke
Turune shrugged nonchalantly, We die then.
replied softly, Perhaps...is there a shot of rum waiting there for
Tarrod placed his hand on the quivering hilt of Tasslarion,
my party and I?
the arcane metal sending arcs of raw glamour though his
A slight laugh, his feathery raven-dark hair dancing the
gauntlet. The blade seemed to weep quietly in satisfaction that
Balor replied, But of course.
it would finally be drawn for a worthy foe, then drink deeply of
its masters essence for the grand finale. Seemingly in a daze,
the Sidhe Duke of the once mighty unseelie warhost inched

Chapter One: The Week of Winter 33

 Nodding to his remaining company Tarrod motioned for
them to follow the Balor, then took up the rear, long fingers
dancing over the colorless gemmed hilt of Tasslarion.
* * *
Free of the nightmarish impossibilities of that deadly
realm, Tarrod shuddered with bone weary relief as his tiny band
of survivors crossed through the portal into the autumn mantled
demesne of Castle Thraecyn, kinain, chimera and enchanted
retainers the only inhabitants remaining to watch over the
Dukes domain. Still clad in ruined Armour runneled with
cracked, flaking blood, still shocked at the defeat, he waited
until his men were given hot baths, warm beds and possets for
pain before even thinking to clean himself.
Images of werewolves slaughtering his warhost wholesale
still assaulted his failing mind as he paced the most esoteric
corridors of the Castle, her stony spirit responding to his mood
with whistling, howling winds through empty corridors and the
creaking of ancient wood. Once again he watched furred jaws
spray spittle and blood as they ripped through the tender flesh
of the throat of Juris; a Sidhe Tarrod had risen from Chrysalis.
He replayed the scene woodenly, from the gurgling, pleading
death cry of the young man to the final flicker of life in those
expressive red-golden eyes. No more would the ladies of the
Samite courts fawn over those now bloody platinum tresses, nor
would they admire mutilated white skin.
The tall Sidhe Duke ripped away the last fragments of his
Armour and threw his sword belt to the smooth stones of the
granite and greywacke corridor, then stood in his bespattered,
torn gambeson, nursing his still wounded arm. Staring from a
lancet window, he viewed the crackling lightning storm about
the highest tower, an indication that Castle Thraecyn was not
a merry lass. She mirrored his emotions of hopeless rage and
sorrow, for she also knew the fallen by name, knew their jaunty
tread on her flagstones...the sound of jovial words flung with a
laugh from smiling mouths.
* * *
His will crumbled.
It was too much. Too much responsibility. The deaths
of three score proud unseelie and thallain. His lanky frame
crumpled onto the floor, unheeding of the smashed collarbone,
fractured wrist, broken ribs and more, knowing his Regenerative
nature would heal these with uncanny speed. Not so for the
suffering survivors in the halls far below him...
He wept then, unashamed; where once his face would
have grown into an icy mask and new battle plans and recruiting
drives would have been implemented, now his features slumped
in despair, showing the ravages of his thirty seven mortal years.
Those tears, far too long unshed spilled onto the dusty
floor, whilst outside the heavens opened and gushed down the
sorrow of Thraecyn in a torrential downpour. The tug of banality
weighed far too heavily on his soul. How could he possibly master
this defeat and turn it into victory? What would he tell his child
when he or she was of the age to learn of his folly?
34 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
But then there was his lady...how would she react? He
assumed that she would comfort him at the least - but even she
would harbor a secret disappointment at his grand failure, no
matter what words were spoken. Perhaps he should simply just
draw that cursed sword and end it once and for all.
But he knew that was instant stupidity. He had a child; a
wife and he had to protect the survivors from the seelie wrath.
And he also had the death of those who trusted him.
Revenge.
Said to be best served cold, he never felt colder since he
had hewn down his worthless father.
Rising on trembling knees from the floor, he made the
unpleasant journey to the tower where his bride awaited him,
eyes not the cruel white he was known and feared for, nor the
pale silver of triumph, not even the pale gold of happiness they
had been of late.
Just a flat, mirrored sheen, allowing nothing inside him,
reflecting all.
* * *
The titanic Ogre paced. Grolth was his first name, and
Morlyn was his last, being the adopted brother of the Duke.
Many found it strange to the extreme that a lofty Sidhe noble
confided in an uncouth and brutish oxen like Grolth; but the
very few who knew them well also knew of the love, honor and
trust between them.
Grolth ran a hand the rough size of an ordinary mans head
through his wild mane of shaggy jet hair. Nobody knew Tarrod
like he did. If one thing was for certain, he pondered, the Duke
would doubtlessly be suffering greatly. Even the ministrations
of the gorgeous and dark Eiluned lady may not shake the Duke
from his misery. The Ogre wondered if anything at all might
ease the pain of the defeat, the loses and the compromise to
the castles security. Personally, a few bottles of aged rum would
obliterate any pain at all, for a few hours at least. Sadly those
days were gone. No longer could he drink vast amounts of liquor
without feeling a dull twinge in his mortal heart - the signs of far
too many years of unhealthy living. He almost wished that he
shared the stupidity of his family...but he was cursed with more
intelligence than a simple Ogre should be made to handle.
He blamed Tarrod for that; the Duke had educated him
over many long years aboard ship. From childrens books up to
high school textbooks, he had learned to read, logically deduce
for himself, write legibly, do basic sums and a little algebra and
more. Amongst Ogrekind, he would have been an outcast and a
genius, were he not smart enough to hide it.
Still Tarrods mood plagued him.
Lightning seared the sky and wind howled relentlessly,
signifying that the Duke was not at all happy. Grolth considered
breaking his sobriety long enough to snap Tarrods legs to keep
him from stalking those nasty corridors that even the Boggie
stayed clear of...but no, it wasnt worth it. Placing his meaty
hand on the rough stone wall of his deep chamber, Grolth
murmured to the Castle, attempting to soothe the anguished
stones, lest the Dukes mood bust them asunder.
 Without warning, a layer or crisp hoar-frost crackled
across the stone walls.
Grolths breath plumed in great cloudy gouts in the
suddenly chill air and he withdrew his horny hand carefully,
nodding to himself. Here was more proof of his fears...once
before the castle had become so; on the day of the death of
Tarrods first wife. It was only when the Eiluned lady arrived in
Castle Thraecyn that the frost had completely vanished, and
spring returned to the gardens outside the keep walls.
Cursing softly, he loped out of the chill room, and
ascended the stairs towards the highest tower, his massive arms
hauling him along with ape-like speed where the stairs grew too
steep, the chill of winter winds stirring in his wake.
* * *
He could hear raised voices from within. The thin, acidic
tone of the lady, and Tarrods cruel, chilly, whiplash replies.
Grolth closed his eyes sadly and shook his shaggy head, resting
it on the thick paneling of the chamber door, uncaring if he
were to be discovered.
Now there was silence - not a single retort or snippet of
speech. Straining his pointed ears to the limit, he picked up the
sound of bare feet pacing to the door. Grolth simply shrugged
vaguely at this; he had been caught listening at the door before.
Most assumed it was his all too obvious crush on Ellowyn,
which was true in a certain sense, but more so his concern for
his brother kept him about. If he didnt know better, the Ogre
would have suspected intelligence made one too seelie.
The door swung open to reveal the stark, expressionless
mask of Eiluneds face.
Get out of my way, Grolth dear, She chimed coolly.
Obligingly, the Ogre curled his enormous bulk around
one wall and over the ceiling to allow her passage, immediately
squeezing through the door into the chamber, once she was out
of sight and padding down the scores of granite stairs to the
more sociable halls.
Tarrod stood at the balcony, his great mane of ebon hair
streaking out behind him with the magnificence of demonic
wings. His Armour was gone, and it appeared his gift of
regeneration was hard at work, for no visible marks were left on
his pale skin.
Gods boy, ye gone an arsed it up again with the
wench.
Tarrod responded to the Ogres crass comment with nary
a flicker of tapered ears. Trying again, the ogre tried more tact,
Tarrod, as you love the Castle, as you love the lady, as you love
even this old lump of Smurf shit, find in yer own cold heart to
forgive yerself. The Ogre grinned, Or Ill rip of them smarmy delicate features blurred. However, one detail remained as sure
ears and shove em up yer tight white arse.
Silence, then a thin chuckle from the Duke. Grolth
grinned wider, then his expression slipped as the chuckle from
his brother turned to a soul tearing sob. Wordlessly, the brutish,
shaggy monstrosity of grayish muscle took the pale, regal elven
lordling in his arms and allowed the Duke to weep without
shame in the embrace of his brother.
* * *
It burned with simple clarity in Tarrods cold mind. One
thought, one goal. Ever since he had slain Duke Stephen and
claimed castle Thraecyn as his own, one factor held him from
completely content.
Prince Rhynn.
Dandy, foppish panderer that he was; seelie to his sickly
sweet core and more arrogant than even the worst of the Ailil
lay claim to. One of the first seelie Sidhe to escape death at
the hands of Caloathe Orn - the shadow behind the Shadow
Court in the Empire, Ryhnn had time and time again played out
the part of the handsome, charming hero whilst Tarrod rose to
infamy as his villainous counterpart. One pale fist clenched as
the Duke pondered his recent defeat.
Composed now, more detached than prudent for his sanity,
he played the battle through his mind once more, recognizing
the fortuitous timing of the werebeast assault as a trademark of
Rhynn. For the seelie Prince, it always had to be at the most
heroic, most auspicious, most damnably inconvenient time for
help to arrive even if it cost the seelie death to a man. Victory
for Rhynn was no victory at all without glory.
In icy silence, the Duke paced down the multifarious
corridors of his castle, and out into the wintry landscape beyond
the central keep. Moving now with dread purpose, he made his
way down the frost crusted pathways of crushed seashells and on
to the Grove.
None knew the castle as he did, and only a few knew
that Earl Stephen knew only half of what Tarrod knew before
he died by Tarrods hand. Whispering a single syllable at the
barbed, hooked wrought iron gate into the grove, allowed the
perilous barrier to swing open to admit the tall Sidhe Duke. He
ducked and pushed past branches of dense black thorn, clothes
gaining numerous tears and splatters of unrecognizable filth.
The Grove was in truth a maze, designed by the first owner of
the castle, and designed to keep the Silver Chalice that held the
baleflame safe. Tarrod knew it too well...he had walked this path
in his dreams before the castle was his. The lady Thraecyn, the
eternal chimerical spirit of the castle loved him best of the past
rulers, he knew.
Now he emerged into the courtyard in the center of the
maze, a stark affair of roughly hewn onyx flagstones and equally
poorly dressed pure marble. At the crux of the maze stood a lonely
plinth, wreathed in spider silk, ancient weeds, moss and lichens.
The carved, pitted granite plinth had been shaped to resemble
a wounded Elder Drake clawing at the heavens in supplication;
a knights lance protruding from the scaled underbelly. Weather
and wind had taken their toll on the edifice, leaving the once
as the day it was created...in one clawed fist, the drake clasped
a large silver chalice of what could only be Grecian design.
From the glittering surface of the untarnished treasure rose the
towering column of topaz baleflame, illuminating the anguished
features of the dying drake.
Tarrod paced to the plinth and sat on mending limbs
before it, cross-legged, head bowed in thought. He needed a
plan. A damn good one too.
Chapter One: The Week of Winter 35

Thoughts, plots, ideas and more crowded his shrewd mind.
The overwhelming one was of his defeat. His plan had been
perfectly executed and superbly plotted. But for one popinjay
seelie Prince selling himself off to the were-beasts, the unseelie
horde would have won with minimal loses. Turning his mirrored
eyes to the eldritch beauty of his balefire, the Duke cast his mind
back to when he had served Duke Stephen as a simple knight...
* * *
The castle had been a more joyful place then, and so it was
with Tarrod also.
It followed the seasons as regularly as the mortal realms
beyond it, and the Master; Duke Stephen, was a fair, if cruel
ruler.
Tarrod had tired for a time of his seafaring adventures as
grumpdom nipped at his heels. Deciding that he liked the look
of the castle, and wishing security for his new bride, he settled
down to serve the Duke for the remainder of his fae life.
But things were never to be that simple for any man of the
Morlyn line...trouble came, and with it, the death of his wife
from the plotting of Rhynns father, the self proclaimed Duke
Danelyrn Gwydion of the Hawkeshire. Tarrods chill mind flew
past the memories of his former wife, lest they stir some emotion
within him, and he recalled his actions upon finding who had
set about the chain of events leading to her death. As now, all
humanity had fallen from him, all compassion, all cares. Wholly
unseelie, one of the twin doorways of his soul remained more
tightly closed than the gates of Arcadia.
He had gone then, and embraced the trade his father had
before, and possibly many Morlyn males before that. Hunter.
His clothing had lost all traces of the customary silver of
the Ailil, and simply became black. It started with the one who
had leaked false information of his wifes infidelity; in the dead
on night, the man awoke to view an ebon hilted hunting knife
36 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
resting across his throat. Before a cantrip or scream could be
shaped, his vocal cords joined his jugular in a severed mess as
the knife took his life.
Tarrods sorcery took care or his insinuation into the plot,
for he took the face of the slain man and wore it for nigh on
a week, unraveling the threads of the snarl of lies, payoffs and
under-the-table dealings. However, it was far from simple...where
originally he had thought to do little more than infiltrate and
kill those whom plotted to destroy his life, he now found himself
drowning in the unfamiliar waters of intrigue and diplomacy.
Before he imagined the plot as a ball of thread to be unpicked by
skilled hands, now he viewed the situation as a delicate baroque
bridge of spun glass. He had but to move a foot a hairs breadth
out of place and the entire structure would shatter with Danu
only knowing the consequences.
Forced to drop his disguise eventually, he took up another,
the Marquis Aruthin DeFalchion, a debonair and dashing Sidhe
Wilder with a penchant for action and strong liquor. Despite
this facade, his heart remained chill.
He ached for the final kill, but it never came though, for
on the night he discovered that Danelyrn set the conspiracy in
motion, the King was assassinated by his Ganconer lover. Tarrod
raged then, for the creature had vanished with her prey into
the lands of death. Impotent to avenge his lover, he entered
the annual tourney and let his boiling malice overcome him
completely. His great granite colored war horse, Sarkyn took his
black and silver armored form into the lists, and to victory.
Ruthless, unprincipled and brimming with insane and
unbridled emotion, he cut them down as easily as a child pulls
the wings from a trapped insect. Four chimerically died before
he won the tourney, and earned the hated title; The Black and
Silver Plague.
Then he had returned home...still empty, still raging
quietly. Deciding that should he ever have the fortune of loving
again, he would make certain nothing would compromise his
brides safety. Gathering Thallain allies slyly, and brooding in the
dankest corners of castle Thraecyn, Tarrods plans of conquest
gleamed from his silvery eyes and grew in his black heart. It was
on the anniversary of his wifes death that he laid siege to the
castle from within and slew Duke Stephen in the center of the
Grove, staining the bluish marble tiles for all eternity.
* * *
He lifted his head and viewed that dark spangle of long
dried liquid on the marble flagstones. Even as Tarrod had slain
his birth father, and seen his foster father die on a trollish blade,
he now recalled that Stephen had loved him as a father also.
Tarrod closed his pale eyes, then opened them abruptly to reveal
the dead, mirrored sheen of total self mastery.
Rynn would die. If not to pay for the deaths of scores of
brave fae, then to atone for the sins of his despotic father.
Standing with the silken grace of a hunting panther,
his leonine form slipped back into the depths of the grove, an
uncontrollable glance at the stained flagstones his only sign of
emotion.
 Only Turune saw the Duke slip from the castle via a secret
portal in the east wall. It had been over a month since Tarrod
had left for foreign shores and returned with the promise of love
once more. The details were messy, but Turunes feral mind
picked out the gist of the bargain easily; Kill Rhynn, and Tarrod
would let himself have his lady back. It seemed foolish to the
Beastie that the Duke left in solitary silence, Turune was a pack
beast - he depended upon his family and they depended on him.
Tarrod had left all behind to clinch the deal by himself.
With a wet snuffle to pick up the scent of the Sidhe Duke,
the cat-like beastie loped after him at a safe distance, emitting
an ear splitting howl far above human hearing to gather his
pack to him.
* * *
The pack emerged in Hamilshire the next day. Turune
padded into the city itself whilst his pack brothers and sisters
scratched, growled and mewled on the outskirts, preying on
sheep and hapless farmers. For a beastie, he knew the city far
too well. His other adopted pack brothers, Kollos the Ogre and
Choppa the Goblin lived near the city center, and he visited
them as often as was prudent.
Tarrod was low keying it; having sent an offer of an
honorable duel to Rhynn via a mortal courier. The reply had
been along the lines of You have no Honor, Morlyn, I do not
accept.
The beastie dared not intrude on the duke, but kept a
watchful eye on the Sidhe, ready to assist if needed.
Fuckin fancy pants fell for some loose bitch? Was all spiraled deeper into insanity. Chimera crawled forth into her
Choppa said on the matter, then, Turune, check out my new
invention, it called a Multifariousdisembowelingautomate...
And Turune nodded in an interested way, knowing the Goblin
would help.
Of course Kollos would help, so long as he got beer at the
end of the messy affair. How wonderful it must be to be mind
meltingly stupid, though Turune.
* * *
Another week slipped by, and Turune shrugged vaguely
to his pack, growling a response to their guttural inquiries.
Morlyn had disappeared. The ironic thing was that Rhynn had
vanished also.
Discussing this with his brothers and sisters, Turune came
to the conclusion;
He aint in city, he cant be scried out and his body heavens with hard talons of pure silver. Silvery raindrops would
aint floating in the Waikato, so I guess hes in the dreaming,
or somehow lost in the Umbra. Either way, Hes pretty fucked.
Fuck knows how he got Rhynn to go along with it. Upon
visiting Choppa, He fucked off eh? Damn skippy. Say, Turune,
take a look at this new inventi...
Padding around the back of the battered old bus that
formed the home of Kollos and Choppa, the beastie curled up
in the sun and decided to wait.
* * *
Tarrod stalked his prey. Bereft of all motivating traits
save for the desire to kill, his angular face was clenched in a
grim, fatal mask of determination. His eyes a reflection of the
landscape around him...twisting spires of onyx and a sky so
leaden gray that it seemed it might fall at any moment.
Somewhere in this portion of the Dreaming crept the cur
known as Rhynn. Tarrod could almost taste the Seelie nobles
fear and suffering, and his soul knew that his prey hid close by.
The cursed blade, Tasslarion lay naked in his pale hand, groaning
softly at the freedom it had sought for long ages of proud owners.
An eldritch aura of black flame wreathed the wafer slim blade,
and the colorless gems crusting the great hilt spun with myriad
images of the numerous ways it could slay the wielder once the
deathblow was dealt.
Animal savagery encompassing his entire form, Tarrod
noticed not at all these images; instead his tread fell more silent
than that of the waken dead. How he had arrived in this plane,
he cared not. His name, a meaningless drawl of wasted breath.
Nothing mattered but the kill.
But he had arrived in this plane nonetheless, and the details
rested in a sleeping portion of his mind. The first step had been
the refusal of a duel by Rhynn. That had sealed another layer of
ice over his heart. Then when poisoned wine was drunk instead
by Rhynns jester, Tarrin Laxin and only slew a worthless pooka
retainer. He had confronted the Prince as he stepped onto the
set of his mortal Soap Opera day job, but Rhynn had Flicker-
Flashed away. Again and again, Tarrod tracked the Prince to his
hiding places, only to have the coward vanish in a spangle of
sickeningly seelie glamour. That sent Tarrod over the edge.
Bedlam encroached easily and subtly as his hunting
madness grew. He did not note it. He did not deign to note it.
Far to the South, castle Thraecyn changed also as her lord
cold corridors, and weeping warps of deep dream stuff rippled
about her highest towers. The inhabitants fled to the safety of
the nearest mortal town and babbled in fear of what they had
seen. Only Grolth remained behind, defiantly awaiting the
return of his brother.
The aura of madness about Tarrod had become so potent
that by the next time he had confronted the slippery Rhynn
once more, reality flickered and dissolved around the two as
they were hurled into the part of the Dreaming responding to
the power of the Dukes mad dreams.
* * *
Tarrod walked ankle deep through untold score of broken
onyx and silver rings. Parodies of Castle Thraecyn danced on
the multiple horizons and chipped onyx spires clawed at the
pound from the gray sky and soak the dreamscape fitfully, though
the master of the dream would remain icy and dry.
He would never remember the instant Tasslarion had
been drawn, but he may well have a chance to regret it - if his
mind managed to right itself on the death of Rhynn. Pausing
now to sniff with feral intensity at the air, he swung hard left
and continued to stalk, blade venting a screeling cry of triumph
as Tarrod sighted a flash of scarlet fabric behind the spires.
His hand clenched about the hilt of the sword fitfully as
his seven foot form broke into a headlong sprint, the strength of
insanity driving him beyond mortal endurance.
Again, a flash of scarlet - then again and after a time, once
more.
Chapter One: The Week of Winter 37
 His prey could not hope to match his pace. Then he came
to a skittering halt as the coward turned and faced him at last.
Thrice Rhynn stamped on the be-ringed plain to activate the
sorcery but again it failed. This was Tarrods dream; and he held
all the keys.
Release me from this place and I shall absolve you of
all crimes and stigma you have garnered in the Empire, Duke
Morlyn, quoth Ryhnn, his golden irises wide with fear. His red-
gold tresses soaked flat to his delicate skull, his finery torn by the
race through the spires, his bared skin marred by scratches that
oozed lightly.
Tarrod paused only to snort at the thought, the words
barely penetrating his hate soaked mind. He lunged forward
with the eldritch blade. Rhynn spun aside with a cry and
scrambled away. Smiling a smile so cruel that it might slay a
childlings immortal soul with the coldness of it, Tarrod leapt the
distance between them instantly, his free hand closing about the
soft white flesh of Rhynns throat.
Please...my people... Pleaded the other sidhe.
Tarrod raised the blade sharply, and with the strength of
all his hatred, rage, fallen pride and the love of his wife, Ellowyn,
he drove the blade deep into Rhynns chest. He then kicked the
dying seelie sidhe free of the blade, slashed the heaving flesh of
the bared white throat once, then turned away and instinctively
moved to sheath Tasslarion.
38 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
The blade refused.
It would not return to the sheath.
Cursing, Tarrod flung the blade away from him to clatter
on the hard surface of a spire. The blade crooned softly, then
vanished.
As sanity returned by degrees in the fading nightmare,
Tarrods moiling mind wondered over this marvel. The prophecy
had stood for aeons... Tasslarion her name, the Black Widow
sword. Take will she the soul of the hand that wields her after she
hath slain thy foe. Naught will save thee, master of the Widow.
These words are absolute.
Thus it had been spoken by the greatest Soothsayer the
Empire had ever know.
Then Tarrod laughed, curling his fingers inside his glove.
A simple leather glove had saved him.
Still laughing now, low and mockingly, Tarrod bent over
Rhynns corpse, drew his onyx studded hunting knife and carved
the stilled heart from the warm chest, little blood around the
entry wound.
Holding the prize that would re-unite him with his true
love, he turned for the pathway he knew would return him
home, his eyes gleaming the pale gold of triumph and love.

My Best Friends
By DuBobO
Bernard Marx sat in the boiler room of Abraham Foster
Memorial High School, laying his skinny, sixteen-year-old form
across a dusty metal pipe. The wrench hung limply in his hand
dangling in the air as he spoke, seemingly to himself.
You know, when you get right down to it, machines
really are so much better than people in pretty much every
conceivable way. They run for as long as their parts hold out and
never complain, when they get broken, its easy to fix them, and
they dont mind you tinkering around to find out whats wrong
with them. Right, Shiversoot?
The geeky-looking boy tilted his head to the side, looking
tiredly over at the corpulent metal beast of a boiler that sat a
few yard over, bolted into the ground with a labyrinthine mess
of pipes sprouting from it and snaking their way into the walls or
ceiling. The thing looked like it could easily be a hundred years
old. Bernard always commented that he was surprised you didnt
have to turn a hand crank to make it work.
After a moment of silence, the archaic behemoth belched
out a small puff of soot that Bernard had long ago figured out as a
negative response. The boy rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue
exasperatedly, a sound that echoed in the dimly-lit boiler room.
Of course youd say that, me and Jeremy are the only people
you ever see and you cant even communicate with him.
A low, metallic whine came from the boiler and the
orange light inside that could be seen through the slats of the
grill dimmed slightly. Of course the boiler wasnt really that old
to have a coal-hungry mouth as Bernard saw it, nor did it have
quite so many pipes to make a veritable jungle-gym of them.
However, to the boy sitting there in the boiler room, all these
qualities were very, very real, even though no one, not even
Jeremy, the janitor who was pretty much his best friend, could
perceive them.
He sighed and put a hand on his forehead, regretting how
harshly he had spoken to his companion, mechanical though he
may have been. Im sorry Shiversoot, you know I didnt mean
to say you were dumb or anything. Youre just stuck down
here. Its not exactly conducive to experiencing the world.
Bernard had a tired voice that sounded prematurely tired and
eloquent. His mother would comment that he already sounded
like a forty-year-old man at fifteen.
Shiversoot gave out a quiet, scraping sound in resignation,
the orange glow dimming again. The boy slid off the pipe and
walked over to the boiler, rapping softly on one of the pipes with
his rusty wrench. I shouldnt even say that. Hell you probably
know more about the world than me since you can hear whats
going on in the rest of the school through these. Bernard often
wished that the boiler could speak to him in real words. If only
it could, he would be the best gossip in school and hed have
enough to blackmail material to put everyone in the building
in his pocket.
The light inside the boiler brightened slightly and Bernard
couldnt help but smile slightly. He had known Shiversoot
for almost two years now and the boiler had been his boon
companion ever since. Early in his freshman year, he got into a
scuffle with a jock and came out worse for wear with a black eye
and plenty of humiliation. After the fight had been broken up
by the gym teacher, Bernard had fled to the solitude of the boiler
room and that was when he met the mechanical being.
The two of them had a special connection, Bernard
thought, since that was the day that he found out he was
different. He wasnt just different in usual ways, either. Most
kids dont have to worry about having pure-white hair, a face
that looks like clown makeup, and a fascination with machines
that just made his peers even harder to understand. Sure, the
first two were only perceptible to others like him, but finding
out that youre a faerie made of the stuff of dreams tends to
exacerbate ones existing problems.
The door to the boiler room opened languidly with a shrill
squeak, bathing the interior in the harsh, fluorescent light of
the adjacent cafeteria. In stepped an aged black man wearing
a pale blue janitors uniform with Jeremy neatly embroidered
on the right breast. His curly hair was prominently gray around
his temples and his face gave the impression of hearth wisdom,
the kind of knowledge of the world that only comes with years
and years of experience. Bernard always thought that if Jeremy
had been able to get into college, he could easily be one of the
teachers here, if not the principle.
The lines in Jeremys face creased and darkened as he called
out into the dark boiler room. Bern? You in there, Bern?
Bernard glanced over at the man and waved. Yeah, its
me Jeremy. Just fixing up the boiler a little bit.
Youd best get home, Bern. School let out over a half-
hour ago.
Bernard nodded, wondering how he had let the time pass
him so quickly. Ill be leaving in a minute. I just want to finish
up what I was doing.
As the janitor nodded and returned to his work, Bernard
turned to say goodbye to Shiversoot and grab his backpack.
Hed leave the school now, like Jeremy wanted, but he wasnt
heading home, at least not to his mortal home. He was going to
Court today.
* * *
The Freehold in Santa Juanita was an abandoned coffee
shop by the old waterfront. At least it looked abandoned to the
few people who passed by it everyday. The derelict beatnik-
haven was more like some kind of archaic gallery of art to
Bernards changeling eyes. And tonight was the night of Autumn
Carnival, so the place was lit up with fluttering, orange and red
lights that the boy had had a hand in designing.
It was a splendorous sight, but it still didnt make him feel
any better. Carnivals were the nights for the Trolls to drink,
the Satyrs to carouse, and the Sidhe to socialize. Nockers like
Bernard werent exactly famous for being party animals, mostly
expected to spend their nights among their machines and
chimera, contentedly toiling away in a euphonious solitude.
Chapter One: The Week of Winter 39
 The blue-skinned giant filled a large, wooden tankard
with the rich, red drink and handed it to his aggressor with a
frustrated sigh. You know, Bernie, you really ought to lighten
up. Its Carnival Night.
I know, and dont call me that, was the only response
Bob got from his advice.
An hour passed as Bernard watched the crowd from
behind the top of his mug. He recognized nearly everyone who
was present at the Carnival, although there were only a few that
he actually knew.
There was Edgar, the Counts squire. The two of them
were acquainted and, although not truly friends, they had a
mutual respect for one another as neither of them were terribly
upbeat souls. Edgar was quite the oddity as a Seelie Redcap. His
brutal facial piercings, feral glare, and spiny, chimerical armor
gave him an appearance appropriate as a warrior. He was the
lackey of Count Prospero, the Sidhe nobleman who ruled the
freehold as well as the rest of Santa Juanita.
The Redcap was being harassed by another, unfortunately
familiar figure; Caitlyn Elencry. She was a wilder, like Bernard,
but she was older, and a Sidhe, and far more obnoxious. She
had been nothing but a thorn in his side since before they had
even become fae. Her cascades of golden hair and porcelain doll
features made her easily the most attractive girl in all of Foster
High and she was never without her cliquish group of hangers-
on, all of whom enjoyed molesting Bernard with their jibes.
She clung to Edgar like a remora, trying to seduce him
into what was doubtlessly some trap of the nobles to humiliate
At least Ill be able to get something to drink, he thought
the poor outcast for their own amusement. Bernard couldnt
as he strolled through the dingy door and into a grand ballroom
help but conceal the spiteful smirk as Ol Handsome Eddie
that was far larger than anything that should have fit into the
rolled his shoulder, making her hand slide from it like a pale,
one-story coffee shop.
white raindrop and walked away, giving the Nocker a nod of
The celebration going on inside was a suitable match to
acknowledgement as he passed.
the spectacle outside. The music was played by a band of fae,
She pouted in a way that Bernard had to infuriatingly
standing on top of a dais near the center of the dance floor. The
admit was very attractive, but his attention was quickly drawn
music they played was a capricious mix of styles and eras, moving
away from her as another Sidhe approached him from the other
from moment to moment between a regal waltz that had the
side. Ahem! The voice was deep, but had a hollowness to
Sidhe swaying, to a harmonious modern tune which the Satyrs
it that made it sound faked. The noble who approached him
drank like wine, to a boisterous jig that had everyone tapping
looked maybe a year or two older than the commoner he had
their feet (or hooves) to the music.
addressed pompously with the clearing of his throat, but seemed
Bernard walked with a blank, joyless expression to the far
more mature because of the finery he wore and the dignified
side of the ballroom, straight to the kegs that held gallons of the
posture that he maintained perpetually.
potent wine of the fae. A massive, potbellied Troll with blue skin
What? Bernards response was crass, but sufficiently so
and a half-drunken smile stood beside the tap, looking down
that it wasnt so much offensive as uninviting. The Sidhe didnt
at the boy with a condescension that existed only in Bernards
seem to pick up and merely sat in one of the ornately carved
neurotic imagination. Hey there, young wilder, the Troll said
wooden chairs next to him.
with a rumbling voice that carried the joy of the celebration on
You are Bernard Marx, yes? The Nocker gritted his
it as well as the pungent smell of the wine, arent you a bit small
pointed teeth behind tightly sealed lips. Who the hell said yes?
yet to be sampling the booze?
at the end of sentences these days?
Bob, Im not in the mood, just give me a mug of the stuff,
Yep. A simple response, a commoners response, hopefully
a big mug. The Troll frequently got on Bernards nerves, but
enough to get this eel to go elsewhere for his socializing.
never on purpose. He was simply a well meaning old sod who
My name is Rafael, Heir of Prosperos County. Wonderful,
thought that if he kept on pushing to make the young Nocker
Bernard thought, the Counts lapdog.
be more social, it would all work out.
Rafael paused for a moment, as if expecting some comment
to this, but the Nocker just continued to stare out at the rest of
the ballroom, not even making eye contact with him. His eyes

40 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling

narrowed at that and his voice began to take on a more sinister
tone. I saw you watching Miss Elencry over there. Bernard still
didnt budge. She is quite beautiful, is she not?
Have you ever heard of a goddamn contraction? The
venom of that remark made Bernard take himself by surprise. He
hadnt intended to get that smart with the Counts protg.
There was a moment of silence between them during
which Bernard was too nervous to look over at the expression
of the noble. I hear you were the main constructor of the
lights decorating the freehold tonight, Rafael went on as if his
acquaintances outburst had never occurred.
Trading brain-killing banter with a noble was one thing,
but no Nocker can refuse a chance to hear his work be praised.
Yeah, since Mina Sootfoot went over to the Unseelie, the
Count needed someone else to design the lights.
Well I think theyre crap.
Bernard blinked and looked over at the disdainful look on
the other changelings face. What did you just say?
The lights, theyre crap. That oaf, Edgar, could have done
a better job blindfolded. Maybe if you work at it for another
decade or two it might be enough to impress a lady like Miss
Elencry, but I still doubt shed even give you the time of day.
The already reddish skin that covered Bernards body
burned an even brighter ribbon of crimson across his face. Rafael
had yet to learn the folly of insulting a Nockers handiwork. The
punch came before any could have seen it and broke the Sidhes
nose with a wet crunch that sent him sprawling to the floor,
bleeding from both nostrils.
Mother@&^$*!, what the #%$^ would you know about
*!^% !? The stream of obscenities that poured from Bernards
mouth could have made a Redcap sailor having a hangover
blush scarlet. It was certainly enough to make the band and all
the dancers stop and watch.
He looked around, partially stunned that he had just
assaulted a high-ranking noble, and partially wanting to jump on
him and start pounding on his face some more. There was a long
pause as he looked around at the gathering crowd, wondering
what to do. For an offense like this, he could be ostracized from
the Court. The commoners might still take him, sure, but he
had a lot to lose nonetheless.
With a snort at the supine Sidhe, Bernard stomped out of
the freehold. It was raining again, chilling the air and making
the sidewalk slippery, but at least it would be a relatively short
walk back to the school. Shiversoot would be waiting for him
there; he would never abandon his old friend.
* * *
Tromping through the rain, the young Nocker pulled
his black jacket with the red spirals around his body tighter,
trying to keep the cold water and winter winds at bay. Walking
through Fosters Mission at night was a bad idea, but Bernard
wasnt above using a cantrip to get out of harms way quickly.
The school looked downright haunted in the rain, its
crumbling faade standing in eerie, storm-drenched silhouette
against the cloudy moon. But Bernards eyes were not pointed
skyward when he reached the schools open courtyard. There
were men, milling about, carrying things, metal things. He
snuck closer, trying to find out what was going on, but what he
finally discovered, made his heart skip a beat.
The men were carrying out pipes from the old boiler!
Shiversoot! There, carried by two men, each holding one end,
was the round body of what was once the young changelings
closest companion. Tears welled in his large eyes, mingling with
the rainwater as they slid down his face. A barely audible No,
was the only sound he made before he laid down in the damp
grass and wept for the friend he hadnt even realized hed lost.
Chapter One: The Week of Winter 41

The Key to Winters Heart
By Shukura
Lightning flashed and lit up the entire sky. Rain poured down
like small pebbles pounding out a steady rhythm. It was so dark how
was she ever going to find him? The sky lit up again and the loud
clap of thunder caused her horse to startle a bit. Thankfully she was
a skilled horsewoman. She rode for what felt like an eternity. Every
muscle in her body ached from having to fight the horse for control
and also carry the weight of the gown that was growing heavier by
the second from the amount of water that it absorbed. She rounded
a corner and the sky lit up again and she saw them. One man was
on the ground while the other stood over him, his sword poised for
the attack.
No, she cried. Her hands let loose of the reins and went
up to her mouth. The two men looked in her direction and she saw
that it was her beloved that was lying on the ground. Suddenly a
clap of thunder so loud that the entire earth shook; caused the horse
to rear back and she felt herself falling
Destiny awoke with a start.
It was only a dream, she thought as she wiped the
tears from her eyes. She got up out of bed and went over to
the desk and flipped on the light. Looking at her calendar,
she sighed. Six weeks. It had been six weeks since she
started having this dream. She couldnt remember any
movies that she had seen or books that she had read that
would have caused her to have this same recurring dream,
so what could it be? She heard the sound of someone in
the hall and quickly turned off the light. Destiny hated
it when her mother found her awake these past nights.
She had told her mother about the dreams, but she had
just dismissed them as a childhood fantasy and said that
if Destiny stopped thinking about them, they would go
away.
Her father on the other hand ,always encouraged
her dreams and said that perhaps she should write them
for others to read. He said that maybe someday she could
become a great writer of fiction. She just laughed at the
thought, but took his words to heart. Even though her
father was always working and hardly ever home, she felt
that he knew her better than anyone, and whenever he
would hug her, she would get a little tingly feeling, like
butterflies were tickling her face.
The next day, Destiny woke up late and had to rush
to get ready for school. Her mom gave her a quick hug as
she darted out the door. By the time that Destiny reached
her locker, her best friend Lorinda was waiting for her.
42 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
Girl, you should check out the new guy coming this
way, Lorinda said nudging her. At first Destiny didnt
really care, but it was as if someone were willing her to look
at the boy. When she looked over and saw him, a tingle
shot through her body. He seemed familiar somehow. Then
their eyes met and the whole world around then changed.
There they stood in a grand ballroom. Her school
clothes were replaced by a green and gold ball gown and
the boy looked taller and older, dressed in a silver tunic
with a blue cape draped over his shoulders. He was the one
in her dream. She started to go over and talk to him, but
the bell rang, the world returned to normal, and Lorinda
grabbed her arm, pulling her into their first class as other
students pushed and shoved their way through the hall.
Destiny remembered that day so well. She never
got the chance to meet the mystery guy who haunted her
dreams and thoughts, nor was she ever able to find out
his name, because the day afterwards, her father took her
away to live in a new house in another town. The divorce
had been hard on everyone. It was so hard to believe that
that was over 6 years ago, for now her life was completely
different from the one that she had before her Chrysalis.
She looked at the family picture on her desk and her eyes
misted over with tears. She missed her father so much, that
her heart ached just to be near the one that had opened
her eyes to a whole new life.
Her father, Andrew Carter, was such a special and
wonderful man. He was the Baron of Whispering Ridge.
He stood tall and was one of the most handsome trolls that
Destiny has ever met. If it had not been for her fathers
unfailing love and encouragement, who knows where her
path would have taken her. She remembered the day of
her Chrysalis so vividly, that it seemed like yesterday. He
had handed her a large wooden box that held an ancient
book inside of it. At the time, no one knew where the key
was, or how to get it open. It was also a great concern,
because there were rumors that the book could not be
destroyed. Her father was instructed to keep it hidden.
He had only shown it to her in hopes that it would help
her to find her true self. Destiny sighed and the weight of
guilt that always came when she thought of the missing
book returned. She only wished that she had known then
that she was the guardian of the Book of Winter, and then
perhaps her father wouldnt have been killed trying to
protect it. Destiny reached up and touched the crystal that
hung around her neck. The Book of Winter was an ancient
book rumored to contain the very secrets needed to bring
about endless winter. She felt an involuntary shiver and a
chill that ran up her spine. It had been her job to guard the
book and prevent that from happening. She looked over
and Quimby, her chimerical falcon, as he sat on his perch
in the corner. He had protected the key for many years
waiting for her return.
There were times when the memories of her past life
were so clear and vivid, and other times when the mists
would cloud her mind leaving her frustrated and confused.
She knew that she was Duchess Anneliese, and the other
Kithain usually addressed her as such, except for her little
patients, with whom, she was just Anna. She sometimes
hated having two lives, but it was one of the curses and
responsibilities that she had of being Kithain, and she
would not trade it for anything.
Several hours later, Destiny arrived at home. She
pushed the button on her answering machine and listened
to her messages. Quimby checked the apartment for
anything amiss. He had told her of a time when Aeyddon
was her protector, and how he wished that Aeyddon were
here now so that he would not have to be her only source
of protection. She was smiling at her thoughtful falcon,
until she heard the voice of her mother on her machine.
Destinys mother was a great source of banality to
the young sidhe. There had even been times that she
thought her mother was becoming more and more an
Autumn Person. Andrea Carter just never seemed to
understand Destiny or her father. It was so sad, because
at one time her mother had been a sidhe, but the weight
of depression and therapy finally drove every last ounce
of Glamour from her. It was because of her mothers
experience with the psychologist, that Destiny decided to
become a psychologist herself. Others like her needed to
have someone they could go to for help that understood
their fae side and would not drive away the fire of glamour
from their eyes.
Later that night, Destiny was awakened from a sound
sleep by a noise somewhere in her apartment. She slowly
began to get out of bed to investigate, hoping to catch
whoever it was in the act, but before she could even sit up
all the way, a hand came out of the shadows covering her
mouth and nose with a cloth. She felt her head spinning
as she fell back onto her pillows asleep.
The next morning, when Destiny woke up, her
vision was a bit blurry and her stomach felt nauseated. She
lay there for a few moments hoping that her vision would
clear and she could get out of bed to begin her day. When
she opened her eyes again, she realized that she was not in
her room. It looked like a basement, but the lighting was
too dim to see very well. Instinctively she reached up to
see if the crystal was still around her neck, and felt a surge
of relief that it was still in place. She knew that it would
be, as no one could use it, but her. Only the guardian of
the crystal key and the Book of Winter could open the box
that contained the book. As if on cue, she felt the crystal
turn icy cold; the Book must be here. She swallowed hard,
and began to look for her way to escape. She tried many
of her cantrips, but none of them seemed to work. Taking
a closer look, she saw that the entire room was surrounded
by cold iron bar mounted into the wall. Whomever it was
that held her captive, had thought of everything.
The sound of keys rattled down the hall seeming to
come in her direction. When they reached her door, she
heard them turning the lock, and watched helplessly as
the door opened and a figure walked into the room.
Well, good morning Your Grace, the man said.
Destiny tried desperately to see if she could recognize the
voice. Then the man stepped into the light. At first she
did not recognize him, but then, as she looked into his
eyes, she knew.
Gearalt, she spit out in disgust. She knew this man
well. He was the one that fought and killed her beloved
Aeyddon, on that rainy night so long ago.
You have no idea how long I have been trying to
track you and that blasted necklace down, and now you
are both mine. He leered at her and she felt her stomach
tie up in knots again.
I already have the book that we took from your
father, and if you do not cooperate, I will make sure that
your mother shares the same fate. Destiny felt her blood
turn cold as he left her alone in the room. She did not know
of his plans, but knew from past experience that it was not
good. What she hated more was that no one knew where
to look for her. She sat on the bed and cried until she fell
back to sleep. She did not like the feeling of hopelessness,
that was beginning to take hold in her heart.
Destiny dreamed about Aeyddon. He had been her protector
and best friend. They had been making plans to be married, but
before they could be wed a suitable replacement for Anneliese as
the guardian of the Book had to be found. She remembered how
happy she had been, until the night that someone had stolen the
book. Aeyddon and a group of his best knights set out to find the
thief. He had instructed Anneliese to stay behind and then placed
guards at her door to keep her safe. It was all she could do to
wait. She went after them only to reach them just before Gearalt
had dealt his last blow. She had fallen to the ground and the next
thing she remembered was being carried away through the gates of
Arcadia, thus leaving behind all of her chances for true happiness.
When someone had finally come to take her up to
Gearalt, she had no idea how long she had been asleep
The crystal was colder than she had ever felt before and
she began to tremble from the icy chill that seemed to
spread over her entire body.
Chapter One: The Week of Winter 43
 She entered a large room that looked to be a banquet
hall of some sort. At the end of the room stood Gearalt,
holding onto a large wooden box that Destiny had not
seen for 6 years. His eyes sparkled with the knowing glow
of victory. When Destiny had reached his side, he held the
box out to her. He clicked his tongue and then spoke.
Anneliese, Open this box now! The icy cold talons
of sovereign seemed to reach over and grab her hand
moving it involuntarily.
She fought with all her being, to resist, but he was
much too powerful for her to fight against. She reached up
and took the key from around her neck.
Wait, Anneliese do not open that box A voice
came across the room in a roar. She could feel the surge of
glamour pour over her and she froze as the two commands
fought for control. Then she dropped the key onto the
floor. It was then that she saw Quimby snatch it off of the
floor. She looked over at the group that had entered the
room. None of them looked familiar to her, and then as
she heard the words of the leader, she let out a gasp.
Gearalt lets finish what we started. knight was given the title of Guardian that Destiny finally
Over the next several minutes, the two engaged in
a battle like no one had ever seen before. The man that
fought Gearalt was very skilled and looked as if he had
been preparing for this battle his entire life. It was not
long, before Gearalt was lying on the ground breathing his
last and the young sidhe dared any of Gearalts men to
follow suit.
44 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
The young handsome sidhe came over to Destiny.
She looked very closely at the man, and found the eyes
of the same mystery man that she had seen so many years
ago at school.
I thought I told you to wait at the house and I would
be back for you, he smiled and Anneliese knew that it
was indeed her Aeyddon that now stood before her.
I thought you were dead, Destiny could feel the
tears streaming down her face. He reached over and wiped
them from her cheek.
Robert wrapped his arm around her shoulders and
took her with him back to his house. They talked for hours
and rediscovered the love that they had once felt for each
other. Destiny noticed a portrait on his wall of her, and
when asked about it, Robert told her of how he could not
get the image of the young sidhe out of his mind when they
very first saw each over 6 years ago. He had been hoping to
find her and when Quimby came into his freehold looking
for help, he knew that he had found his Anneliese again.
It was several months later, when a young sidhe
felt free to live her life again. The book was safe, the key
had a new keeper, and Anneliese could finally marry her
beloved Aeyddon. The fresh spring of young love and the
hope of a bright future had stilled the frost of Winter once
again.

Best Served Cold: A Tale of
Winters Touch
By Loyal One
Gabriel Plinket looked down at his latest creation and
sighed. A small box stood before him, red and lacquered to
a shine. There were hundreds of small carvings along the
edges, words of power in a book he had once seen in his old
mentors library. Gabriel knew these carvings themselves
held no such power, but they made the oaken box look
very presentable. Lifting the lid slowly, he watched his toy
box invention light up, showing the stage within. Two
figures stood before him, one an exact image of himself,
the other of his beloved Sylinda. A delicate melody began
to play, one he had paid dearly for from a passing eshu
composer and then laid into the toy box himself. His
eyes became wet when he watched his glee at the nocker
kneeling before the sluagh, ring in hand, and slipped it
onto her hand in proposal.
Perfect so far... he whispered, almost afraid that
the sound of his voice would ruin the delicate dance of
clockwork puppetry before him. Like the previous test runs
before this, everything was smooth, and even the small
hint of a blush of Sylindas face became apparent. Making
a sluagh blush, even in facsimile, was a Herculean task.
The song wound to a close as the toys performance
ended in a sweet embrace, the last few notes left to cling
in the air. The lights slowly dimmed and the lid began to
close. Gabriel held his breath now, and watched in grim
determination. As the boxs top reached its closing point,
there was a slight whirring noise, then two strong clicks,
before it sealed itself.
DAMN!! Gabriel threw his tinkering belt to the
ground, and stomped towards the wall, where a large
blackboard displayed the scaled up toy box, and all its
components. Third by-rod, in 16th junction. I know it.
And I KNEW it when I put the damned thing in there.
Come back to haunt me now, havent you, you furking
little metal monster! I knew the moment I placed you
there for internal stability during first phase construction,
I was sloppy. This kind of shlock isnt going to cut it!
Gabriel punctuated his tirade by poking the offending
rods chalky substitute with his stubby index finger. The
resulting smudge made him pause, cutting his bellows
short. The nocker straightened his coat, and walked
back to his belt, discarded by the box. He reattached
the buckles, making sure that the pockets hadnt opened
when he tossed it away in disgust. He knew Grambles, his
old teacher and good friend, would be appalled at his lack
of respect for the belt; a tool given to him by Grambles
when Gabriel had finally finished apprenticeship. The
belt and all its contents were all gifts of respect, including
the white chalk he pulled out from the fifth pouch on the
right. The chalk had been busted, but that was no concern
to Gabriel. There would always be more, so long as the
Glamour remained running through the wearers veins.
Gabriel fixed the plans on the board, and stood back
to look over what could be done to bring about a solution
to his dilemma. He wished that Grambles was here too,
looking over it with him. Out of anyone, the shop was
only big enough for two opinions when it came from his
mentors mouth. But no one had seen him in a week, and
Gabriel figured that Grambles would return when he was
good and ready. Until, then, his love for the slim, tall and
alien form of Sylinda would be his only focus. It had taken
him all the way into his Autumn years to find his true
love, he could not wait a moment longer to act upon it.
I cant take it out, not with out starting over. I know
its not much, but the idea of that damnable grinding in
her perceptive ears.... she will know, and she will never say
a word about it. But it is there! It is there, and that will be
more than enough. I cant just rip it out, or it will have to
be refinished all over again. With Beltaine tonight, its the
best time to do this. Really, its the only time I can....
A small clicking sound stopped him from talking.
Looking over his shoulder he spotted a chimerical canary,
hopping from one device to another on his table. It stopped
when it saw him, cocking its head slightly.
Shoo! Out you spy! Oh youd love to get your hands
on my Reversible Paper Magnet, wouldnt you Flyper? Or
is it Handysak that sends his little devices to crawl for
my secrets? Come closer you demon-spawned gewgaw!!
Gabriel removed a hammer from a hip sling on the belt,
destructive anger flooding through him. Goblin Town had
more than enough competition, but they all sought out
Gabriel Plinket as a way to keep the Seelie from prospering.
Today, he thought, would be the day he fought back tooth
and nail. Word must not reach Sylinda of his intentions,
and the sluagh had a knack of finding out secrets when
they saw even a glimpse of daylight.
Gabriel, I need your help.
The nocker stopped his murderous approach
suddenly. The words seemed to come from the canary, but
it held Grambles voice. Sort of, Gabriel mused, since the
voice was broken and halted it was clear that the toy was
made in a hurry, and not infused with much Glamour at
all.
Gabriel, I need your help. The canary repeated its
request, with no change in pattern.
Chapter One: The Week of Winter 45

If Grambles needed him, this was an unusual way
to ask for it. Why not use the Mechanical Automated
Information Launcher? They both carried around personal
sized versions of the M.A.I.L. device. With his Reversible
Paper Magnet (patent pending), it was almost faster then
the phone, and with fewer ways to be spied upon. Unless,
of course, he was in a position where he couldnt...
Gabriel, I need your help. The repetition of the
request brought Gabriel back to reality. But now was not a
good time. Sylinda would be waiting, and tonight was the
only time to do this. He had promised himself for weeks,
and he would not back down. Once again, Gabriel Plinket
thought of the Unseelie court, and the ease of which they
took passion over duty. However, his mentor and good
friend needed his help, and he would not disappoint.
Grambles had taken quite a chance, and more then enough
flak over the other nockers in Goblin Town for taking the
Seelie apprentice Plinket under his wing, and Gabriel
knew this. He also knew that he couldnt return to fix the
gift in time to propose to Sylinda, and that he would have
to pack the box as it was. A small grin appeared on his
face, the first in a while, when he thought of how many
other times Grambles had ended up making up Gabriels
mind for him.
46 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
The clockwork bird began to raise and lower its
wings, an awkward motion that made the young nocker
wince. He had almost thought for a moment that some
pisher boggan had made this toy, had not the voice of
Grambles emerged from it. The canary repeated its message
once again. Throwing on his neatest jacket, and running
his hand through his hair, he set out after the mechanical
bird, which flew from one perch to the next in small, flight
assisted jumps. Had the canary come but one week prior,
it may have had a harder time finding such perches; but
Goblin Town had a way of shifting around. When Dr.
Tapp had built the puzzle of twisting walls and doorways
that was Goblin Town, he had a master plan. Too bad, few,
if any, knew what it was. Gabriel was glad he lived on the
edge of the town for many reasons, confusion being one,
and his Seelie nature another. Still, he thought, one day
he could wake up in the heart of it. Such was the nature
of Goblin Town.
The nocker trailed behind the bird, which began to
slow down gradually, as if the toy needed to be wound again.
The voice of Grambles began to wear down too, becoming
deeper, and drawn out. It soon became apparent to Gabriel
that he had little idea where he was, or how to get back.
Nervousness clutched at him, as he wondered if he would
see his beloved in time. They had met on Beltaine, just
before one day turned to the next, so he knew that he
must get back to her by midnight. He checked his side
for the precious gift he held, and the pocket on his other
side for the actual ring he would present to her. Both were
there, and he calmed down a bit, reassured by presence
of physical objects, like most nockers are. The messenger
jumped lazily into the air one last time, landing before a
dark doorway. Its mouth opened one last time, the words
almost impossible for anyone to understand, had they
not heard it before. Gaaaayyybrrriielll..... I.... neeeed...
yooouuurrrrrr hhheellll...., the last word went unfinished,
and the bird flopped on its side. The nocker picked it up,
and began a search for a way to wind it back to flight.
Suddenly an army of hands reached around him,
pummeling him mercilessly into the fitted pavement of
Goblin Town. He could smell his own blood, but couldnt
yell out for help over the burly hands of his captors. His
eyes grew wide as he recognized four redcaps before him,
and the badges displaying positions of authority they once
held in this Unseelie underground. Not so much authority...
but positions of fear and power. He couldnt place them
with his head spinning around from the wounds inflicted
upon him.
Yes, Plinket, do come help. I could really use it.
A voice from inside the doorway which he stopped at
emanated, and reeked of banality and doom. He was
dragged by his hair into the unfamiliar building, which
appeared to be abandoned long ago by its owners. There
was an immense figure sitting cloaked mostly in darkness,
with a cloak of deep crimson emerging into the light.
Try as he might, Gabriel could not fight back against his
aggressors to raise his head to identify the owner of that
voice. What he could see however, was that the fae mien
of his red capped attackers was tainted somehow. With his
head pressed against the floorboards he could only catch
glimpses of his captors, how their skin was stretched across
their faces yet still came down to a double chin on at least
two of them. All of them possessed bodies that passed
from obese to anorexic in odd places, like the rail thin
arms and bulging gut on the smallest one. But what really
put fear into Gabriels soul was that he could actually see
the glamour that had been solidified into wood to create
the floor of this home was eroding quickly under the feet
of his captors, turning dull and gray. He could almost taste
the stench of Banality that came off them, even through
the blood on his tongue that flowed freely into his mouth
from the cuts on his forehead and cheeks.
He had this..., said one of the redcaps, tossing the
leader Gabriels prized music box. Anger surged in his
veins, powered further by adrenaline, and he struggled to
get his literal labor of love back from the hands of these
evil beings. The redcaps, taken back by such a surge of
power from his small form, lost grip momentarily. Gabriel
fell to the floor and surged to his feet, only to be struck back
down by a large iron rod, topped with a rams head. Pain
exploded in Gabriels face, as the rod shattered through
his jaw, his face smoking in blisters as the cold metal the
weapon was made of left its mark upon him, robbing him
of his senses momentarily. He tried to focus but couldnt
get his bearings, the pain was too unbearable.
The room began to fill with music, a delicate drifting
melody that he knew too well. Gabriel Plinket willed
himself to look up, and was horrified at what he saw. In the
light emanating from the music box, he saw the gnawed
upon form of his mentor, Grambles face still partially there
to confirm the identity of the body. Standing around the
box was the Red Guard, an elite quartet of redcap body
guards. He also saw the grotesque form of a female nocker,
dressed in crimsons and scarlet. He watched as the box
finished its dance, and in horror saw the glamour leak out
of it and into the mouths of those around it. The music box
turned to rot quickly, as the Dauntain dissolved its magical
properties. The box smashed before him, and Gabriel was
sure of many things.
He had arrived too late to rescue his master, and that
the toy bird was a trap. He also knew he would never see
his love Sylinda again, and the love he felt in his heart
for her would soon be feasted upon by these monsters.
One certainty, however, rising above all other concerns
he had for himself and his life, became abundantly clear
the Gabriel Plinket, as the group of Dauntain advanced
on him, one fact he could warn no one about.
Cadmium Redd, ousted leader-turned-Dauntain,
had returned to Goblin Town. She had brought the chill
of Winter, and oblivion, with her.
Chapter One: The Week of Winter 47
 CHAPTER TWO:
THE WEEK OF
SPRING
Ahhh. Can you smell that? Honeysuckle, lilacs, and a
hint of jasmine. Feel the fresh grass between your toes. Feel the
warmth of the sun shining down from the blue sky. How can you
not love this time of year? I feel completely renewed!
Oh, excuse me. I didnt mean to get so excited. I just cant
help but dancing, though. The cold is gone and all that is left is
new growth and possibilities. Summer is nice, but Spring is so
much better because of the chill darkness the precedes it. By this
time, my body is fairly screaming for some good old fashioned
running around!
There I go again. Come, sit beside me among the
wildflowers. Lets talk of love and light, the future and the
Dreaming. And why do you laugh, my dear? Do I seem silly to
you? Well, perhaps just a little. But I assure you that its due to
the earnestness I feel inside. Shall we revel in the Glamour of
the season? Shall we begin to create anew? Oh, yes, I do mean
that in ALL of the possible contexts. Does that embarrass you?
No? Good, because gazing into your eyes I cant help but feel
myself falling.
The Week of Spring
This week is about the endless possibilities inherent in the
Dreaming. Its also about having a little fun. So lets see whats
in store!
Freehold Hunt Competition
Freeholds are places of Glamour, where Changelings can
gather to renew themselves. These places may be hidden to
mortal eyes, but to Kithain and the Enchanted, they are easily
visible. They may be small or they may be grand, but all are
infused with Glamour, and may share that with those attuned
to it. They are rare in this day and age, but they are not gone.
Your task is to find as many as you can! Search the internet and
find as many Changeling websites as you can. These must be
sites that are heavily (though not always exclusively) dedicated
to Changeling: The Dreaming. Each site is worth 1 point
of Glamour. If the site includes Shadownessence in its links
section, its worth 5 points of Glamour. If they dont have SnE
listed, contact the webmaster and ask them to add it! Ill check
the sites at the end of the contest to see if they qualify for the full
5 points. Whoever gets the most points wins the title of Master
Herald, and a PDF copy of the Changeling core book. So this is
a great contest for those of you who are new to the game!
Bunk Creation Competition
Bunks help channel Glamour, directing it into the powers
of the Kithain. Everyone needs to use them, so I know that
youve done so! Nows the time to share. Submit your best bunks
into the contest and see if you win. You can enter as many bunks
as you would like. The Changeling staff will judge all entries,
Chapter Two: The Week of Spring 49
and the winner will be chosen based on the most original,
interesting, fun, or dramatic bunk. The creator of the winning
bunk will earn the title of Master Troubadour, a PDF copy of the
Changeling core book, and a custom drawing of the bunk done
by our very own Satyr.
Original Art Contest
Everyone has their own creative abilities. For some, it is art.
Im sure that there are some great artists on this site! Nows your
time to show us what you can do. Were looking for original art,
Winners
50 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
created by members of SnE. These must be fae-related pieces of
art in any medium, and must not have been previously published
professionally (fan sites such as Elfwood or deviantART are
okay). The Changeling staff will judge the entries based on
originality and artistic abilitybasically something that makes
us say wow! Remember, only art from SnE members will be
considered. The winner will get the title of Master Seer, and a
PDF copy of the Changeling core book. See, another contest for
those new to the game! What fun!
Bunks
Submitted by Kalirush
Legerdemain:
Gimmixa nocker sticks a penny on her forehead, puts
her index fingers to her temples, and makes a swami-look at the
target.
Ensnarea pooka pulls some hairs from her head, tangles
them into a ball, and throws them at her victim.
Effigya nocker uses a computer to create a detailed, 3-
D image of the item in question, and then animates the image,
causing it to come to life out of the computer.
Moocha sluagh makes a fist with her index finger
pointing up with both hands, and knocks them together, such
that both fingers are on her right hand, and then again so that
the fingers are back on their proper hands.
--a satyr thief gets hold of the plans for the museum she
wishes to rob. She creeps in the back, just minutes before the
museum closes. She pulls out a pennywhistle and makes up a
song to the vase shes trying to steal. She plays for the vase until
the security guards notice her and throw her out. Just as she gets
out of eye-sight of the vase, she begins playing her song again.
Just as it finishes, the vase appears in her backpack, and she runs
like hell before the guards notice.
Phantom Shadowsa sluagh begins leaving food in
one dark, shadowy corner of her haven. She occasionally kills
rats and bleeds them out there. Every day, she talks to the
shadows in the corner. Over several months, she gives them a
name and tells them stories and secrets about their life and how
they were born. She also tells them stories about the doings of
a certain duke. Over time, she graduates up to feeding it dead
cats and refuse. After about six months, in the dark of the moon,
she bleeds a stray dog into the corner. From the shadows in the
corner rises a perfectly, incredibly beautiful sidhe woman- with
a desire to seduce the duke, and an uncharacteristic taste for Captive Hearta satyr weaves a net, the size of the
blood victim, out of her own hair. She daubs it with blood taken from
the victim. On the new moon, she steals into the room where he
Chicanery: sleeps, and casts the net over him while chanting. When shes
finished, she carefully removes the net, whole, and lays it into a
Fuddlea pooka blows into someones ear before
box, which she seals shut.
changing the sound of her oathmates breaking into the back of
--a redcap grump wanting to bind someone to her steals a
the shop into the sound of rushing wind.
hair from the victims head during the full moon, every month
Veiled Eyesa sluagh pulls out a sharpy and writes You for a year. A year and a day after beginning the bunk, she takes
cant see me. on her shirt.
the hair, and braids it together. She takes a sheeps heart and,
Fuguea nocker pulls out a VHS tape, cuts a piece out taking a large needle, sews the hair into the heart. She roasts it
of the middle of it, and splices the tape back together, deleting over a fire, adding a drop of the victims blood and her own as
her victims memory of recent events. its getting hot. She then takes the heart and eats it in one bite,
Haunted Hearta sluagh wishing to create a feeling still hot.
of despair in her victim makes a doll of the target. She then
catches a salamander, cuts its heart out, and embeds a needle
in the heart. She sews the heart into the chest of the doll, and
nooses its neck with the intestines of the salamander.

Chapter Two: The Week of Spring 51

Primal:
Willow Whispera redcap wanting to have a chat with
a tree cuts a face into the bark and hunkers down directly in
front of it. (this is not likely to be a friendly conversation)
Eldritch Primean unseelie nocker trying to set fire to
a building tosses a small chunk of sodium into a toilet, and runs.
(sodium+water=explosion)
Oakenshielda satyr strips naked, covers herself with
mud and then scrapes it off with a piece of oak bark.
Heather Balma redcap healing a wound pulls the
edges apart and pours vodka into it. She then carefully licks the
vodka and blood out of the wound, nibbling the jagged edges
smooth for better healing, and extracting bullets/bone shards/
gravel with her mouth. She then binds the thing shut again and
safety pins it closed.
Holly Strikea sluagh sniper spends a moon phase
watching her victim. She carves a special crossbow bolt out of
holly, and carves the words to the soul as to the heart, to the
heart as to the spirit in tiny letters in a spiral, colored by ink
from his desk, around the bolt. She then shoots him in the chest
with the bolt.
Elder Forma troll quests into the Dreaming, and
eventually manages to find three tail feathers from a phoenix.
He has them made into a cloak which is sewn with the feathers
of a hundred birds. When he wishes to change into a phoenix,
he puts on the cloak, and steps into fire.
Soothsay:
Omena satyr licks her thumbs and smears them over
her eyes as she looks up at her target.
Fair is Foul and Foul is Faira nocker cursing
someone pulls out her wrench, spits on it, and throws it at the
target, while describing in detail the faults of the targets family,
friends, and dog.
Tattletalea satyr who has just been assaulted soaks
up the blood on the floor with a cloth (hers and the targets
combined), and wipes down the bathroom mirror with it. She
says his name three times and spits on the ground.
Augurya nocker wanting to create a certain future
writes a script. She gets a bunch of people together, costumes
them, and shoots a short film outlining in detail the desired
outcome. She cuts and edits the movie herself, making sure all
the details are correct. She then sets the movie to loop 999 times
on a screen in her living room.
Fate Firea sluagh wanting revenge on a noble
spends months carving a life-size statue of the woman out of
cherry wood. She fills the statues mouth with rosemary (for
remembrance) and its ears with thyme (for awareness). She nails
a sprig of nightshade to the heart of the statue, and then hollows
out the belly. She fills the belly of the statue with fatwood, wool,
and hair and lights the statue on fire, keeping eye contact with
it until it collapses into ash.
52 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
Wayfare:
Hopscotcha troll holds both her arms up in front of
her head, Superman-style, and stomps on the ground (so as to
lift off).
Quicksilvera redcap eats an entire box of caffeine
pills.
--a childling chugs an entire 64 oz. Tropical Punch Slushee
in one go.
Portal Passagea pooka trying to get through the wall of
the bathroom shes locked in draws a large face with toothpaste
on the side of the wall. She then finds a bottle of mouthwash,
and some dental floss. She tears off a piece of the Kleenex box
and writes DRINK ME on it. She uses the floss to tie the tag to
the bottle. She shows the bottle to the face, and then pours the
mouthwash into the mouth. The face shrinks and shrinks some
more, leaving a hole in the wall for the pooka to escape.
Wind Runnera boggan childling puts on her snow
boots and her bathing suit. She finds a length of twine in the
garage, and spray-paints it gold. She then makes a whole lot of
felt stars, and glues them to her bathing suit, and also to the half-
of-a-sheet that shes cut up. She ties the sheet around her neck,
coils up the twine, goes up to the roof, spreads her arms wide,
and leaps into the air.
Flicker Flasha sluagh vampire hunter makes a special
trip to Central Park. She picks a specially sunny, open spot.
At 12 noon, she takes 5 ash stakes and lays them out as the
heart of a pentagram surrounding her chosen spot. She lays out
the pentagram in ashes from a previous kill, and then retrieves
her stakes, grinding the ashes into the ground so that theyre
no longer noticeable. . She goes back home, and finds her next
target. She locates him at a night club, and carefully places the
five stakes equidistant around the club, priming each with a drop
of her own blood and a sprinkle of ashes. She then goes into the
club and, just once, makes eye contact with her target. 12 hours
later, in the full noontime sun of Central Park
Submitted by Nin
There was a girl (an akashi brotherhood mage) he felt in
love with and one day they had a date. He plucked some flowers
from somewhere at the park. Back at his place (a back room at
the Ten-Do Dojo) he took the blossoms and was ripping out the
leaves she loves me she loves me not.
But the cantrip he planed wasnt about Soothsay, so the
result doesnt really matter. He wanted them for something
different, so he collected all the leaves in a big hamper. The day
they met, he laid out the leaves on the bed to build oversized
blossoms. While he made her and him shrink cause the cantrip
he used was the art of Metamorphosis and the oversized blossoms
were the required bunk he threw the rest of the leaves over
their heads. Both sank into the warmth and rose-scent of a world
made of blossoms.
What happened next remains silent.
* * *
 Two friends and brothers in arms, an older Gwydion sidhe
and a sidhe wilder of house Fiona had been ambushed by a horde
of commoners one day. While the two sidhe were well fighters
the commoners just outnumbered the nobles. But at least the
two were able to drive their opponents back. Unfortunately the
Gwydion was heavily wounded by one of the last strikes he
lost both of his eyes, left back chimerical blinded.
The Fiona did a primal cantrip to heal one of his friends
eyes. As a bunk he cut out his own left eye.

Submitted by Sandchigger
Most Changelings make up bunks as they go, tossing
together bits and pieces from pop culture, ancient mythologies,
and random ideas willy-nilly. This is fine and good for the vast
majority of Kithain, but some have found power in honing their
bunks to a fine focus.
Trolls, for instance, are commonly thought of as being
powerful, honorable warriors and while this is a true and fine
tradition in Trollish culture, there also exists a fine tradition of
Spamen and Spawives, or Runemasters and Mistresses. These
trolls and their dark counterparts, the Seidr, study the ancient
lore of the Runes, learn the eddas, seek out the wisdom of the
gallows god and his kin for the betterment of their community
(or, for their own personal gain in the case of the Seidr).
Those songs I know, which nor sons of men
nor queen in a kings court knows;
the first is Help which will bring thee help
in all woes and in sorrow and strife
System: The Troll sings (for a level 1 bunk) or carves or
engraves or etc. (for progressively higher level bunks) the runed
of Naudhiz and Sowilo. Primal 3, Oakenshield with Actor, Fae,
Prop... really depending on the Help you need. A fortified body
is a fortified soul to the steadfast Trolls.
A second I know, which the son of men
must sing, who would heal the sick
System: Again the runesinger sings or... you know the
deal... the runes of Wunjo and Laguz. Primal 4, Heather Balm
with Actor, Fae, or sometimes Nature (to Heal animals which
have been hurt).
A third I know: if sore need should come
of a spell to stay my foes;
when I sing that song, which shall blunt their swords,
nor their weapons nor staves can wound.
System: The character invokes the runes of Uruz and
Kenaz. Disarming an opponent is Wayfare 1, Hopscotch plus
Prop or Fae of the appropriate level. Causing weapons to do no
harm is Sovereign 2, Dictum with the aforementioned Prop or
Fae.
A fourth I know: if men make fast
in chains the joints of my limbs,
when I sing that song which shall set me free,
spring the fetters from hands and feet.
System: The character sings the runes of Perthro and
Naudhiz. Convincing locks to open or chains to loosen up is a
simple Primal 1, Willow Whisper and Prop Cantrip. One can
untie them using Legerdemain 1, Gimmix or Legerdemain 2,
Ensnare.
A fifth I know: when I see, by foes shot,
speeding a shaft through the host,
flies it never so strongly I still can stay it,
if I get but a glimpse of its flight.
System: The troll sings the runes (since theres rarely
time enough to carve or engrave them when bullets, arrows,
or spears are flying your way) of Kenaz and Eilwas. Again with
the Gimmix and Prop effects. If youre not worried about whats
behind you, Hopscotch could toss the bullets, arrows, or spears
up into the air without causing them to lose their forward
momentum.
A sixth I know: when some thane would harm me
in runes on a moist trees root,
on his head alone shall light the ills
of the curse that he called upon mine.
System: Counterweaving is easily accomplished with
Gremayre, as stated in the C:tD core book. The runes Raidho
and Othalo serve as a means of performing the Countermagic.
A seventh I know: if I see a hall
high oer the bench-mates blazing,
flame it neer so fiercely I still can save it,
I know how to sing that song.

Chapter Two: The Week of Spring 53

 System: Singing the runes of Isa and Othala, fires can be
stopped in their tracks. The simplest way to douse a fire is with
its opposite element. Creating water is a simple Eldritch Prime
cantrip.
An eighth I know: which all can sing
for their weal if they learn it well;
where hate shall wax mid the warrior sons,
I can calm it soon with that song.
System: The character sings the runes of Wunjo and
Tiwaz as his bunk for this Haunted Heart Cantrip. This Cantrip
is most often used with Fae or Actor along with Scene.
A ninth I know: when need befalls me
to save my vessel afloat,
I hush the wind on the stormy wave,
and soothe all the sea to rest.
System: The character sings the runes of Isa and Ingwas
to calm the stormy seas. Nature and Scene (or not, though it
looks kinda funny to be on the only calm spot in a stormy sea)
combine with Skycraft of various levels or Sovereign 2, Dictum
to calm the storm.
A tenth I know: when at night the witches
ride and sport in the air,
such spells I weave that they wander home
out of skins and wits bewildered.
System: The ward rune is drawn using the runes of Hagalaz
and Othala to invoke a Runic Circle (Naming 3) or a Weaver
Ward (Sovereign 4) against various elements. Everything from
keeping out unwanted guests with Actor to keeping a raging fire
at bay with Nature.
An eleventh I know: if haply I lead
my old comrades out to war,
I sing neath the shields, and they fare forth mightily
safe into battle,
safe out of battle,
and safe return from the strife.
System: The character sings the runes of Ehwas and
Laguz to invoke this three-fold Cantrip. First the wounds of his
companions are healed with a Heather Balm, fae (or Actor) and
Scene cantrip. This is followed by an invocation of Oakenshield
with the same Realms. Finally, Haunted Heart inspires bravery
in all who follow the Troll into battle.
A twelfth I know: if I see in a tree
a corpse from a halter hanging,
such spells I write, and paint in runes,
that the being descends and speaks.
System: Willow Whisper plus actor, or prop (depending
on how you classify a body), possibly both since communication
with the dead bodys departed essence may be wanted, though
youd be surprised what a corpse can tell you.
A thirteenth I know: if the new-born son
54 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
of a warrior I sprinkle with water,
that youth will not fail when he fares to war,
never slain show he bow before the sword.
System: The blessing invokes a powerful Soothsay 2,
Fair is Foul and Foul Is Fair Cantrip. Combined with Actor
or Fae and Time, the Troll can protect a child even from birth
from misfortunes later in life by sprinkling it with water while
invoking the runes Berkano, Perthro, Othala, and Sowilo.
A fourteenth I know: if I needs must number
the Powers to the people of men,
I know all the nature of gods and of elves
which none can know untaught.
System: Untaught being the key word. Troll runesingers
can learn quite a bit about other supernatural beings with a
simple Gremayre roll.
A fifteenth I know, which Folk-stirrer sang,
the dwarf, at the gates of Dawn;
he sang strength to the gods, and skill to the elves,
and wisdom to Odin who utters.
System: The troll sings the runes of Elhaz, Mannaz, and
Ansuz while engraving them on a bit of scrap. This forms a link
between himself and a chosen Chimera, allowing him to imbue
the bit of scrap with Glamour which he offers as Chiminage to
the Chimera.
A sixteenth I know: when all sweetness and love
I would win from some artful wench,
her heart I turn, and the whole mind change
of that fair-armed lady I love.
System: The troll sings the runes of Fehu and Isa, and
seizes control over the conscious mind of another individual.
Dictum or Captive Heart and Fae or Actor, possibly Nature if
the individual is an animal.
A seventeenth I know: so that een the shy maiden
is slow to shun my love.
System: The character sings the runes of Ansuz and
Wunjo to cause others to find her irresistibly attractive. Either
Grandeur 3 or, for a more precise effect, Haunted Heart and Fae
or Actor.
An eighteenth I know: which I neer shall tell
to maiden or wife of man
save alone to my sister, or haply to her
who folds me fast in her arms;
most safe are secrets known to but one
the songs are sung to an end.
System: There isnt a system to this rune, sorry.
Sluagh Spidercasting
The Sluagh have always been about fear, darkness and
things that go bump in the night so its unsurprising that many
of them have turned their magical style toward the darker side
of things. Though often called Spidercasting by Sluagh sorcerers Nine-Finger Fred plops earworms into the ears of those guards
(or Kolduns as they call themselves traditionally) the fae are who manage to see through her illusion, trusting the worms to
not limited only to spiders but to any creepy crawly thing of the fuel his own memory-devouring powers.
night to fuel their cantrips. Legerdemain, the kithain Art of illusion and remote
manipulation is used by any number of Sluagh Kolduns to
The Arts, Darkly
further their aims. Dangling webbing from their webbed
Sluagh Kolduns use the power of fear mortal dreamers
fingertips (spiders clinging or not) allows for finer manipulation
instill in their creepy crawly friends to quicken their own
with Gimmix while stroking a common peppered moth, known
glamour and twist it into an art in a variety of ways. Examples
for its camouflage, is a fine bunk for an Effigy cantrip.
for each art follow.
Killmoulis, a particularly cruel Koldun uses his trained
Chicanery, the Art of deception and trickery finds much
snakes as part of all his Ensnare cantrips. He finds that few
use among the more unsavory Sluagh (a term with non-kithmates
things cause more blind panic than being wrapped in the cold
find redundant). Theres nothing quite like the power to cloud
embrace of an eight foot long python.
mens minds for breaking and entering or assassination and the
Primal, the Art of the physical world has not been
squirmy Sluagh are masters at such trades. Sluagh have been
untouched by spiders legs. Many a koldun has learned the art
known to pull the legs from crickets or squash stinkbugs in their
of interpreting the buzzing of flies as their first step into Willow
hands to confuse mens senses, causing them to hear something
Whispering and they are all well aware that earthworms can be
coming from another direction or be overcome with nausea.
used to bring up earth, lightning bugs can be taught to summon
The Sluagh second-story woman Slythe has been known
fire, nearly any flying insect can be taught to bring fresh air and
to let her pet spiders weave their webs over her face to provide
so forth, fueling their Eldritch Prime cantrips.
a powerful bunk for the Veiled Eyes cantrip while her partner

Chapter Two: The Week of Spring 55

 Many poor beetles and cockroaches have been torn from
their carapaces to fuel a disgusting form of the Oakenshield
cantrip, though no more than the number of bees who have
lost their lives for a Holly Strike. Lastly, kolduns teach their
apprentices that the best bunk for an Elder Form cantrip is to
allow oneself to be cocooned by a group of caterpillars.
The Art of foretelling and prophecy, Soothsay, has been
thought by many respected fae scholars to be the birthplace of
Spidercasting. Watching the intricate play of light and shadow
on a spiders web, plucking individual strands from those very
webs, changing them to suit your needs all have been found to
make powerful Soothsay Bunks for Cantrips of all levels.
Sovereign, the Art of rulership, though usually kept in
the hands of nobles, does occasionally make its way to the
crafty Koldun. A handful of ants or bees, orderly by nature,
properly allowed to organize themselves (read: run wild) along
a Spidercasters hands and arms is a good Bunk for a Protocol
cantrip. The higher Cantrips of the Sovereign Art require the use,
or occasional sacrifice, of the royalty of the creepy-crawly world,
the swallowing alive of a Queen Bee or ritual dismemberment of
a Queen Ant have been used as Bunks for Weaver Wards and
Geasa, respectively.
Finally, we come to Wayfare, the art of travel and
movement. The common flea has been used in the past (either
swallowed or allowed to dine upon the caster) in Bunks for
the Hopscotch Cantrip. Stepping barefoot onto a snail or slug,
through the power of opposites attracting, is wonderful fuel for
Quicksilver enchantments. Crushing a handful of termites or
carpenter ants makes do as a Portal Passage Bunk while many
a Koldun has allowed himself to be covered in wasps or bees to
gain the power of flight provided by the Wind Runner cantrip.
The common earthworm, surprisingly, is often used in Bunks for
the Flicker Flash cantrip, either twirled around ones fingers or
slurped like spaghetti.
So, you see, the Sluagh are quite adept at using their little
friends as more than pets. Beware the next Sluagh you meet who
tells you of her collection of spiders or the earthworms she found
last week, for you may well be speaking with a Koldun, master
of Spidercasting.
Submitted by Shukura
Primal
The first would be for someone with long hair, to braid
a twig, weed, flower, or some grass in their hair. If someone is
skilled at braiding, this would only take a minute or two, not
good for combat if you need to act fast, but would be ok if you
have a little time to be creative.
The second one would be great for a childling. making a
mud pie then throwing in the targets face. Once again if they
have time, they could make a really elaborate mud pie, but if they
didnt have time, then a mud ball(you know kids they are always
in the dirt) using your own spit, then pick it up and throw.
56 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
Wayfare
A young sidhe woman, was given a single rose as a gift
as her lover left her side to return to the duties at the Dukes
freehold. He told her before he left.
There are those who would try to get at me in any way that
they can, and that includes you. Please use this rose however you
see fit should the need arise for me to protect you from harm,
knowing that even though I am not by your side, I still watch
over you. I shall return as soon as I am able.
He kissed her cheek then left her side to go.
A couple of days later, the rose was a bit wilted, but the
your sidhe kept it with her always. She heard a commotion
outside of her house and looked out to see who it could be, and
was not surprised to see her lovers enemy trying to get past her
housekeeper.
She took the rose and pressed the thorn into the flesh in
her finger, then as the blood began to trickle down her finger
she rubbed tow fingers together, then smeared blood down the
stem of the rose. Then taking the rose, she pulled one petal off
at a time and spread them in a circle around her, dropping the
stem to the floor.
When the enemy reached her room, he saw the stem of
the rose with blood on it and the rose petals scattered on the
floor. There was no sign of the young woman anywhere, and he
knew for sure that someone else had beaten him.
The woman had used Wayfare 5 and since it is such a high
level cantrip, went to great detail to make sure that she would
reach her destination.
Ledgerdemain
Pluck out an eyelash, wink at the person that you are
casting the cantrip on, place the eyelash in you hand and blow
it away.
Blow a bubble with bubble gum, pop it with you finger,
then twist the gum around your finger.
Play with your food, by making a picture or design.
Submitted by GeezOona
Primal
HollystrikeStep 1-Fresh mistletoe cut from an oak
tree. Must be cut by the caster of the bunk. Step 2-Dry the
mistletoe and either shred or grate into fine powder or place in
bottle with oil, let steep. Step 3- throw the shredded, grated or
mistletoe oil on your assailant for Hollystrike. (I never use this
for Heatherbalm because mistletoe is poisonous).
Oakenshieldsame as above with acorns or pine pollen
or needles for Oakenshield.
HeatherbalmGrannys chicken soup recipe. The
original one that she wrote in her cookbook years and years ago.
Tear it out of the cookbook, tear it into little pieces and steep
in hot water to make a tea.It would really be a serious thing
if my character ever used this bunk; Grannys recipe is very dear
to her.
HeatherbalmMimic a scene from ER. You know the
whole, Doctor shouting orders for an ambu bag (you know the
bag that they pump for mouth to mouth resuscitation), so many
ccs of what ever drug-Stat!, charge paddles & clear!. This
is good if there are several people casting the cantrip and the
injured persons life is at stake.Thankfully my character hasnt
had to use this one yet.
HeatherbalmSew up the clothes of the injured person
with a silver needle and gold thread.
Sovereign
Weaver WardWe have locked Oakenshield on the
freehold and do regular upkeep to it just to be sure we are secure.
Hey, its winter, there are bad guys out there and we are often
leaving on quests, so its not as paranoid as it sounds.
What we did was we went hunting for the most awesome
stag. This was done in the deepest part of winter, Ill have you
know. Brought it down with one arrow (pre-prepped with a Foul
is Fairthe wood from the shaft was taken from a portion of
the mantle in the Freehold, and the feathers were from one of
the characters hawk chimera). We took the heart and buried
it in the walkway to the Freehold (it was one of those very
pagan/druidic moments and the neighbors kept tisking at us).
Planted a bush over it and willow whispered to it to grow and
keep the freehold safe. The most important part is, because its
a commoner freehold that belongs to our oathcircle, each of us
cast a certain part of the cantrip and burned permanent glamour
for its creation. We also took the antlers and hooves and grated
them into fine powder for added Oakenshield to the property as
well as to us if we are in dire straits. We now have a stag chimera
and a hedge around the property. You really dont want to mess
with that stag. Dont know what the books say about this kind
of thing, but our ST let us do a great thing.
Chronos
Backward Glanceposition person you are casting on
so you can see them in a mirror with a clock set to the time and
date you want to see. Watch person in the mirror as you write on
its surface a calculus equation (pertaining to the rate of change).
Not proficient in math? Recite a poem about the days of yore.
Chapter Two: The Week of Spring 57
 CHAPTER THREE:
THE WEEK OF
SUMMER
Do ya feel it? Yeah, Im talkin to you. Yeah, you, ya little
pansy. I asked if you can feel it? Feel what? Oh, you must be off
your rocker. The heat! The light! Yeah, and I guess the humidity
to, but what can ya do? But dont it make your blood boil? Dont
ya want to just give in and smash something?
No? Wow, what a looser. Such a waste of a good season.
So if it aint the heat of battle, what in the heck does all of this
mean to you? What? Enlightenment, you say? Shining the bright
sun on the deep shadows, you say? Oh, give me a freakin break!
Youre talkin about some mumbly-gook. Im talkin about LIFE!
Yeah, that stuff that really gets ya goin. The feel of good steel
warm in your hands and the smell of blood rising in the air.
Oh, you want to smack me now? Yeah, now youre
talkin.
The Week of Summer
The rays of the sun shine down on us, warming our bodies
and our souls. Though the heat can make us wilt and pause, we
can still rest assured that life is here. Welcome to Summer. Lets
see what this season brings.
Enchanted Hunt Competition
In order to be able to see the fae, someone must be
Enchanted. They must be infused with enough Glamour to be
able to see through the Mists to the truth of the Dreaming. This
has happened many times, though it may be difficult to recognize
those who have been touched by the fae. Your duty is to seek
these people out. How do you recognize them? They have put
their visions into permanent form for all to witness. This contest
is to find the best artists on the Web who have created pictures
of anything resembling fae in all of their forms. Each image that
you submit is worth 1 point of Glamour. The person gathering
the most points wins. Theres one catch, however. You must
have the artists permission to submit the pictures, and must
include that with your entry. The winner will gain the title of
Master Muse and a PDF copy of the Changeling core book.
Secret Society Creation Contest
Changeling society is full of sects and organizations that
have their own goals and agendas. Sometimes they are for the
betterment of all Kithain. Sometimes they exist merely for
their own power. Virtually all of the Changeling books include
them. But surely that cant be all that exist! Now is your chance
to create a new one. Simply write up information about your
favorite Secret Society, one that you have created and that has
not been published in any Changeling books. These entries
dont have to be long, and are usually only a few paragraphs.
But give as much detail as youd like! Length doesnt count,
but creativity does. The Changeling staff will judge the entries
based on originality and creativity, giving weight to Societies
that arent similar to any existing ones. The winner will earn the
title of Master Chancellor, and will win a custom stained-glass
icon for their Society, courtesy of our very own Arkanix.
Chapter Three: The Week of Summer 59

Riddle Contest
The fae are creatures of whimsy and mystery, and riddles
abound in their stories. Surely you can find some! Collect your
favorite riddles and send them in. Were talking puzzles and
mysteries, not jokes. You can send in one, or you can send in
several pages. Enter as many riddles as youd like. But be sure
to also submit the answers!!!!! Riddles without answers will not
be considered. The winning riddle will be judged on originality,
creativity, and how interesting it is by the Changeling staff.
Riddles can be collected from any source. The winner will get a
PDF copy of the Changeling core book. See, another contest for
those of you who arent as familiar with the game!
Winners
60 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
Hmmm? What about the title? Well, the winner of the
coveted title of Riddlemaster wont find it that easy. You see,
this is a contest in two parts. Part one is this week, and is just
what I described above. Part two will be described next week,
and I aint gonna tell you the details until then. But heres the
big catch....being a Riddlemaster means a lot, and encompasses
many things. So in order to participate in next weeks half of the
contest, you MUST enter this week! Thats right, if you dont
submit riddles this week you cant enter for the final title next
week. The Riddlemaster must enter BOTH weeks in order to be
eligible to win. Got it?

Secret Societies
Submitted by Lantis
Followers of Abaporu
There is a painting by Tarsila do Amaral called Abaporu.
It is the portrait of a terrible, misshapen creature, which still
looks natural and inspires so fascination. It was written once by
Oswald de Andrade that Abaporu is the devourer, he who eats
things and adds that which he eats to himself.
It is said that the Followers Abaporu started as a redcap
corby. They would search for treasures and dross and devour
them, hoping it would make them more powerful or, at least,
more attuned to the Dreaming. Of course the process of eating
treasures is incredibly dangerous - some would say undeniably
stupid - even for redcaps, but this society has existed since the
1950s.
The Followers have evolved, of course. What at first
was just a redcap corby now is also composed by other kiths,
especially Balor and Leanhaun sidhe - the first are the most
terrible of nobility; the second see the act as nothing more than
a different form of Rhapsody, and they might be right. It is not
uncommon to discover some Thallain, such as goblins and the
like, in the ranks of this society.
Nowadays, the Followers of Abaporu act in different ways.
Most of them find promising artists and act as patrons, hoping
it will provide them with some particular type of dross. Other
search the world - and some very inhospitable places of the
Dreaming - for treasures. Some even say the Triumph Casque of
Sorrows would give such a rush for them, and make them nearly
immortal.
Submitted by Gatharion
The Order of the Worlds Within
The Order of the Worlds Within was founded by a group of
eshu from ancient Phoenicia. While it is still mostly comprised
of eshu, there are sizable minorities of antiquarian sluagh and
Aethernaut nockers. The Order has dedicated itself to the
exploration and understanding of the four known planes of
existence. The Order claims to have studied the Waking World,
the Dreaming, the Umbra, and the Shadowlands for all of the
long years since the four planes supposedly separated from one
another during the Sundering. Over the millennia the Order
of the Worlds Within has acquired an extensive collection of
maps and books of lore concerning the worlds within. Over
that time they have also acquired many allies and many enemies
amongst various prodigal groups.
Dreams Avengers
Dreams Avengers is the name used by a group of Seelie
extremists that seek to punish other changelings that engage
in ravaging. They see themselves as holy avengers on a mission
to protect the Dreaming and its dreamers. The more zealous
members of the group are known to kill ravagers, believing
that glamour is sacred and that ravagers are parasites on the
Dreaming. The group is universally condemned and hunted by
the Unseelie Court. While the Seelie Court as a whole has never
taken a strong stance on Dreams Avengers, in past years the
group has enjoyed a modicum of support and protection from
the Beltane Blade and other Seelie groups. However, a recent
debacle where a few of Dreams Avengers more eager members
were accused of being Dauntain has led to a lessening in support
and sympathy from other Seelie changelings.
Scoundrels of the Periphery
After satyr Dynadan Malteneous ran afoul of a local lord
for satirizing his court on the stage, Dynadan resolutely decided
to dedicate his life to the lampooning of the establishment.
Recruiting like-minded thespians from around the world,
Dynadan formed his rebel theater group called the Scoundrels
of the Periphery. The Scoundrels travel in secret to fiefs held
by notoriously draconian nobles, put on a few shows openly
satirizing the local gentry, and then disappear into the night
before the applause dies down. While the Scoundrels work
hard to keep themselves from being detained by an irate noble,
they also love little more then having a subject of their satire
Chapter Three: The Week of Summer 61
within the audience. While the Scoundrels of the Periphery are
based in Concordia, they have also traveled outside its borders;
most notably to the Kingdom of Neustria where the Scoundrels
have had some of their narrowest escapes from the long arm of
censorship.
The Ravens
While very few changelings are even aware of the militant
organization known only as the Ravens, even fewer know the
meaning of their name. Most believe that it is a reference to
Morrigan or Odin, war gods whose sacred bird was the raven.
There are still a few, however, that call these shadowy warriors
by the name Oweins Ravens. There is an old tale about of many of that kith. However, the society is open to members
the knight Owein (one of the Knights of the Round Table)
possessing a host of ravens, or knights, that bested King Arthurs
own warriors in battle. Likewise, the Ravens of the modern day
exist to serve as a check to keep any one noble from growing too
powerful. When called upon, usually by receiving an anonymous
note on goblin parchment accompanied by a black feather, the
members of the Ravens don disguise and black armor. They then
ride forth to do battle with a lord that is somehow being unduly
aggressive or is building in power. More than likely said lord has
not done anything to technically break the Escheat or otherwise
call the Red Branch Knights down upon him. Members of
the Ravens refrain from revealing their names and faces even
to one another. Ravens only know the identity of the Raven
who recruited them, and whoever they themselves might see fit
to recruit. Most members of the Ravens are Unseelie and also
belong to other organizations, such as the Guardians of the Silver
Dragon. Who decides when the Ravens must be summoned
and sends out the black feathers? Not even the oldest, most
dedicated, members of the group seem to know.
Submitted by Alieron
The Society of the Open Trod
Once upon a time (actually, only about 20 years ago or so,
but thats not nearly so dramatic an opening) there was an Eshu
wilder who was growing bored with his lot in life. It wasnt that
62 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
being a Fae was boring -- far from it -- but he felt that he had
heard every tale that there was to tell. No, obviously, a large part
of that was the arrogance of youth, but that didnt matter. For
this young Eshu decided to do something about this problem.
Together with a few of his fellows, he swore an oath that he
would walk new trods, to discover new stories never before heard
by any ear, and to be the first to tell those tales.
Since that day, the oathcircle has expanded from its initial
membership of 5 wilders into a small society. Together, the group
wanders from place to place, both in the mundane world and the
Dreaming, seeking out new tales to tell.
Perhaps obviously, Eshu make up the largest part of the
society, as their stated goals are closely related to the dreams
of any kith who wish to join, and are willing to wander lonely
paths in search of adventure and tales. Currently, every major
kith has at least one or two representatives in the group.
The members of the Society of the Open Trod are not
easily identified, generally speaking. However, there are a few
signs -- most members have well-worn clothing, especially their
shoes. The only universal sign of membership that can be seen
is a permanent coating of dust, as from a long-forgotten path or
trail, that clings to their shoes.
In terms of personality, members generally are inquisitive,
wanting to hear everything from the latest gossip to half-
forgotten legends. They also are well-informed about the rest of
their world, possessing general lore about the other groups that
inhabit the World of Darkness. Of course, how accurate that
lore is would be another story entirely.
The societys goals revolve around the dream of their
founder: to travel previously unseen paths, and to learn tales
that they have never heard before. Members of the group tend
to be relatively unconcerned with politics, as their wandering
keeps them from becoming too involved with the intrigues of
the local Courts. However, some members of the Fae Courts
have taken notice of the society, as a source of knowledge that
might be used to their advantage.
The Eternal
By Tink
The Eternal is perhaps one of the most secretive and obscure of all of the societies. The reason for their secrecy
lies in their ongoing quest to maintain a sense of normalcy in amongst the other fae and to hold onto their seeming
for as long as possible, fighting against the premature signs of banality, even though they have the potential of holding
onto it for several hundreds of years. Its members are both noble sidhe and commoners, seelie and unseelie, alike who
have the gift of long life known only to be possessed by the true fae that once freely roamed the earth centuries ago
[all members possess the Fae Eternity merit]. Although many are not aware of the gift they posses for many years into
their Chrysalis, once they realize it, they are often times forced to move away from family and friends and restart their
lives over and over again in different locations all over the world. This causes them to live a rather tragic and lonely
existence due to the nature of what many describe as a double edged sword. They are forced to watch their loved ones
die and loose themselves, while they go on alone.
The leader of this group is a Redcap man who travels the world trying to find others who bear the gift of the
Fae. He has lived many lifetimes and posses great power, beyond most peoples understanding. There are other elder
Changelings who posses wisdom and power so great that they could put many of the Nobility to shame. These Elders
have been known to have aided and participated in many of the great events in World History. We do not know who
they are, but they, even though few in number, are everywhere. They are identified only by their own choosing.
Just be aware, young one, should you ever meet a pooka, who tells you some fantastic tale about how he fought
along side General Grant in the Civil War as a boy, believe him. Just because he doesnt look that old, dont dismiss
him right away. There just may be a grain of truth to his tale.

Chapter Three: The Week of Summer 63

Riddles
Submitted By Shukura
In a marble hall white as milk
Lined with skin as soft as silk
Within a fountain crystal-clear
A golden apple doth appear.
No doors there are to this stronghold,
Yet thieves break in to steal its gold.
-An Egg
I am the black child of a white father, a wingless bird,
flying even to clouds of heaven. I give birth to tears of
mourning in pupils that meet me, even though there is
no cause for grief, and at once on my birth I am dissolved
into air.
What am I?
-Smoke
From the beginning of eternity
To the end of time and space
To the beginning of every end
And the end of every place.
What am I?
-The letter e
If you break me, Submitted by Xolarin
I do not stop working, Two brothers we are, great burdens we bear,
If you touch me, all day we are bitterly pressed; Yet this I will
I may be snared. say - we are full all the day, and empty when
If you lose me, we go to rest.
Nothing will matter. -Boots
What am I?
-Ones heart I can have no color, though there may be darkness
within. I have no weight and hold nothing, and if placed
What does man love more than life? in a container it becomes all the lighter.
Fear more than death or mortal strife? -A Hole
What do the poor have, what the rich require,
And what contented men desire? Of all your possessions, I am the hardest to guard. If
What does the miser spend and the spendthrift save, you have me, you will want to share me. If you share me,
And all men carry to their graves? you no longer have me.
-Nothing -A Secret
Sir, I bear a rhyme excelling I am free for the taking through all of your life,
In mystic force and majic spelling though given but once at birth. I am less than nothing
Celestial sprites elucidate in weight, but will fell the strongest of you if held.
All my own striving cant relate -Breath
-The number PI, the digits of which are illustrated by the length of I have holes throughout, from back to front and top
each word in the riddle. to bottom to core. More nothing than something within,
As a whole, I am both safe and secure. and yet I still hold water.
Behead me, and I become a place of meeting. -A Sponge
Behead me again, and I am the partner of ready. They come to witness the night without being called,
Restore me, and I become the domain of beasts. a sailors guide and a poets tears. They are lost to
What am I? sight each day without the hand of a thief.
-A stable -Stars

64 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling

 They follow and lead, but only as you pass. Dress -tools you use to measure age in your youth=fingers
yourself in darkest black, and they are darker still. I can be counted=1-5
Always they flee the light, though without the sun in the best years of my life=prime
there would be none. never single by nature=not one
-Shadows level, balanced and fair=even
Lighter than what I am made of, more of me is a number that can be counted on your hand that isnt one, is
hidden than is seen, I am the bane of the mariner, prime, and is even is... the number two. The only even prime number.
a tooth within the sea.
-Ice Submitted by Dragon-of-Eternal
A spirited jig it dances bright, banishing all A box without hinges, key or a lid
but darkest night. Give it food and it will live; Yet golden treasure inside is hid
give it water and it will die. What am I?
-Fire -Egg
The man who invented it, doesnt want it for himself. What walks on four legs in the morning
The man who bought it, doesnt need it for himself. Two in the afternoon
The man who needs it, doesnt know. And three in the evening?
-A Coffin - Man
The life I lead is mere hours or less, I serve all my A penny for your thoughts
time by being consumed. I am quickest when thin, A majority of brass
slowest A wire for your juice
when fat, and wind is the bane of the gift that I bring. A pan with lots of class
-A Candle -Copper
The more that there is, the less that you see. Squint Winter spruce up of the hall?
all you wish when surrounded by me. The floor above the keel.
-Darkness Hit me, wait your turn to hit.
Use me for a deal.
Destroys mountains
- deck
Drains oceans
Slays mighty heroes Speech that many fought for.
Devours every king Time that has no plan.
- Time Lunch some say cant be.
Verse that need not rhyme.
Name me and so you shall break me.
-free
-Silence
You check in but you dont check out
Always do I tell the truth, yet cannot speak.
The terminal that will not die.
-Mirror
This gates not pearly you may shout
I have as many brothers as sisters, but my brothers have Before ascending to the sky.
twice the number of sisters as brothers. How many children do - airport
my parents have?
Amass a lot of money
-Seven
A teller with a ball
Five hundred magazine
Submitted by Rhiannon Luck breaks and all
What bites without teeth? -fortune
What cuts to the bone and leaves no blood? Always smiles or maybe frowns,
What descends from on high Sinks in water, never drowns.
where that immortal saint Catches prey on its barbed teeth.
the Bishop of Myra, resides? Hunts all day but never eats
-the North wind - fish hook
In the tools you use to measure your age in your youth, Add zero, it would mean no motion.
I can be counted. Of these, I am one of those that, were I a Add value, a mathematical notion.
person, you would say I was in the best years of my life. I am not As an adverb, its an affirmation.
alone in this, in fact, I am never single by my very nature. But With power could corrupt a nation.
alone I must be in a certain thing. I am the only one at my peak -Absolute
that is level, balanced and fair.
Chapter Three: The Week of Summer 65
 Submitted by General Bullet
I cannot be felt, seen or touched;
Yet I can be found in everybody;
My existence is always in debate;
Yet I have my own style of music.
What Am I?
-The soul (soul music)
I soar without wings, I see without eyes.
Ive traveled the universe to and fro.
Ive conquered the world, yet Ive never been anywhere
but home.
Who am I?
- your imagination
There is a common English word that is nine letters long.
Each time you remove a letter from it, it still remains an English
word - from nine letters right down to a single letter. What is
the original word, and what are the words that it becomes after
removing one letter at a time?
- The base word is Startling - starting - staring - string - sting - sing
- sin - in - I
When I am filled I can point the way.
When I am empty, nothing moves me.
I have two skins - One without and one within.
What am I?
-a glove
I am the ruler of shovels
Im the smallest of my kind, no doubt about that; I have a double
Compared to my brothers, I seem like a rat. I am as thin as a knife
A blue face have I, a blue face, you know; I have a wife
Although its awfully cold here, it doesnt snow. What am I?
My name came from a god, a god with great might; - the king of spades
Although you know of me, Im way out of your sight.
What am I? What force and strength cannot get through, I with a
- The Planet Pluto gentle touch can do. And many in the street would stand, were
Each morning I appear I not a friend at hand.
To lie at your feet, What am I?
All day I will follow - a key
No matter how fast you run, This is an unusual paragraph. Im curious how quickly
Yet I nearly perish you can find out what is so unusual about it? It looks so plain
In the midday sun. you would think nothing was wrong with it! In fact, nothing is
-shadow wrong with it! It is unusual though. Study it, and think about it,
To a birds eye, I am a snake. To a childes eye, I am a toy. but you still may not find anything odd. But if you work at it a
To an adults eye, I am a machine. What am I? bit, you might find out! Try to do so without any coaching!
- train - there is no letter e in the paragraph

If you say my name, I cannot be there. Only one color, but not one size,
What am I? Stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies.
- silence Present in sun, but not in rain,
Doing no harm, and feeling no pain.
What is it?
- a shadow
What falls but never breaks?

66 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling

 What breaks but never falls?
- night and day
Dies half its life, lives the rest.
Dances without music, breathes without breath.
What is it?
- a tree
Im a word thats hardly there.
Take away my start, and Im an herbal flair.
What am I?
-sparsely (no s = parsley)
If you cross out all unnecessary letters in the following
string of letters, a logical sentence will remain. Can you see it?
AALLLOUGNINCEACELSSSEANRYTELNETCTEE
RS
- a logical sentence

Submitted by Ellis
The spring is dawning anew, and again all is well, for
the flowers are blooming, this much all can tell! And even the
serpent amongst the grassroots is only in its infancy; For now its
treachery is moot.
As summer comes, the birds are chirping happily. There is
no end in sight for the forest, swaying merrily. But all the time,
the serpent grows stronger in its hate, in its malice, in its length,
growing longer.
And as autumn comes, with falling leaves and change
the serpent goes to work, its mission to exchange happiness for -Love. Love can burn with passion, bring strong men to their knees,
bitterness, to gather tears from joy and so it wraps around a tree, is universal, strikes your heart and can make you cry.
its mission to destroy.
And now, in winter, the serpent smiles a lipless smile; God Submitted by Poe
alone know what it thinks, but surely it must be vile! For by its
I am Everywhere
side, withered and black, lies the once-beautiful tree its trunk
and nowhere.
still stands, but even this is naught but mockery.
I am everything
The cycle is thus, no-one can deny, and anyone wise in
and nothing.
years will gladly tell their tale, albeit a tale of pain and tears. For
I keep you awake at night.
all of those who wed call senior, from high-lord down to thrall
I tug at your heart stings.
have, at one point or another, in one way seen their tree fall.
What am I?
But be this as it may, the forest will always stand. For
- Desire
thought the Serpent is a powerful creature, do understand that
a single dead tree is only there to those who hold it dear. And What has a tongue but never speaks?
after all, who knows, there might be another next year. - A Shoe
- Love in bloom and decay.
Submitted by Gatharion
Submitted by Sandchigger I am mans treasure, taken from the woods,
A dragons breath can harm me not, Cliff-sides, hill-slopes, valleys, downs;
For I can burn twice as hot, By day wings bear me in the buzzing air,
The strong can be brought to bended knee, Slip me under a sheltering roof-sweet craft.
At the merest hint of me, Soon a man bears me to a tub. Bathed,
I live in common and noble alike, I am binder and scourge of men, bring down
Beneath your breast is where I strike, The young, ravage the old, sap strength.
Many a tear I have brought to eye, Soon he discovers who wrestles with me
What, my friend, am I? My fierce body-rush-I roll fools
Flush on the ground. Robbed of strength,

Chapter Three: The Week of Summer 67


Reckless of speech, a man knows no power
Over hands, feet, mind. Who am I who bind
Men on middle-earth, blinding with rage
And such savage blows that dazed
Fools know my dark power by daylight?
- Mead.
I am the lone wood in the warp of battle,
Wounded by iron, broken by blade,
Weary of war. Often I see
Battle-rush, rage, fierce fight flaring--
I hold no hope for help to come
Before I fall finally with warriors
Or feel the flame. The hard hammer-leavings
Strike me; the bright-edged, battle-sharp
Handiwork of smiths bites in battle.
Always I must await the harder encounter
For I could never find in the world any
Of the race of healers who heal hard wounds
With roots and herbs. So I suffer
Sword-slash and death-wound day and night.
- Shield.
Middle-earth is made lovely in unmatched ways
Rich and rare. I saw a strange creature
Riding the road, weird craft and power
From the workshops of men. She came sliding
68 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
Up on the shore, shrieking without sight,
Eyes, arms, shoulders, hands
Sailed on one foot over smooth plains
Treasure and haul. Her mouth in the middle
Of a hoard of ribs, she carries corn
Gold, grain-treasure, wine-wealth.
The feast-floater brings in her belly food
For rich and poor. Let the wise who catch
The drift of this riddle say what I mean.
-A ship.
I saw four weird fellows traveling
Together as one. This creature seemed swift,
Bolder than birds-leaving black tracks.
It flew through air and dove under waves.
The warrior who winds all four over gold
Leaves treasure fit for young and old.
-A quill pen and fingers.
Who am I who stand so boldly by the sea road--
Hightowering, cheek-bright, useful to men?
-A lighthouse.
The earth was my mother--I was raised
From her cold, wet womb. I know in my mind
I was not woven from hair or wool
By skillful hands. I have no winding
Weft or warp, no thread to sing
Its rushing song; no whirring shuttle
Slides through me, no weavers sley
Strikes belly or back No silkworms spin
With inborn skill their subtle gold
For my sides, yet warriors call me
A coat of joy. I do not fear
The quivers gift, the deadly arrows flight.
If you are clever and quick with words,
Say what this strange coat is called.
-Chainmail.
In battle I rage against wave and wind,
Strive against storm, dive down seeking
A strange homeland, shrouded by the sea.
In the grip of war, I am strong when still;
In battle-rush, rolled and ripped
In flight. Conspiring wind and wave
Would steal my treasure, strip my hold,
But I seize glory with a guardian tail
As the clutch of stones stands hard
Against my strength. Can you guess my name?
-Anchor.
I was weaponed warrior. Now proud, young,
a warrior covers me with silver and gold,
with curved wire-bows. Sometimes men kiss me;
sometimes I summon pleasant companions
to war with my voice. Sometimes steed bears me
over the marchland; sometimes a mere-steed
bears over oceans me brightly adorned.
Sometimes a maiden fills ring-adorned bosom;
 sometimes on tables, on hard boards,
headless I lie, despoiled by the warriors.
Sometimes I hang with jewels adorned
where men drink, fair on the wall,
noble war-trapping: sometimes folk-warriors
on steed carry me--then must I wind
swallow, wealth-marked, from somebodys bosom.
Sometimes with calls I warriors invite,
proud ones to wine; sometimes from cruel ones
with voice I restore booty, from raiders,
make fiend-scathers flee. Guess me!
-A horn.
What is it? A deaf man has heard how a dumb man had
said that a blind man had seen a running rabbit; that a lame
man pursued it and that a naked man had put it in his pocket
and brought it home?
-A lie.
One dreamed that he was on a ship at sea with his father
and mother and that the ship had begun to sink. It was, however,
possible to save himself and one other person only- either his
mother- not both. What should he do?
-He should wake up.
What does a pious Jew do before he drinks tea?
-He opens his mouth.
-Iron ore forged into a sword.
Its not a shirt-
Yet its sewed; I build up castles.
Its not a tree- I tear down mountains.
Yet its full of leaves; I make some men blind.
Its not a person- Yet others I help to see.
Yet it talks sensibly. -Sand.
-A book. A hundred and one
On what occasion did all the people in the world hear the by fifty divide,
crowing of the cock? And if a cipher is rightly applied,
-While in Noahs Ark. The answer is one from nine.
-CLIO
When there is fire in me then I am still cold. a hundred = C,
When I own your true loves face then you will not see one = I,
me. by fifty divide = L (between them)
To all things I give no more than I am given. cipher rightly applied = O (add zero to right)
In time I may have all things, and yet I can keep one from nine = CLIO, one of the nine muses.
nothing.
-A mirror. With thieves I consort,
With the vilest, in short,
Five hundred begins it, five hundred ends it, Im quite at ease in depravity;
Five in the middle is seen; Yet all divines use me,
First of all figures, the first of all letters, And savants cant lose me,
Take up their stations between. For I am the center of gravity.
Join all together, and then you will bring -The letter V.
Before you the name of an eminent king.
-DAVID (Roman numerals) Lovely and round,
I shine with pale light,
I was ripped from my mothers womb. grown in the darkness,
I was burned and I was beaten. A ladys delight.
I became a blood-thirsty slayer of men. -A pearl.
What am I?

Chapter Three: The Week of Summer 69

 You can see nothing else The second eats as much as is given to him, yet is always
When you look in my face, hungry.
I will look you in the eye The third goes away and never returns.
And I will never lie. -Stove, fire, and smoke.
-Your reflection. Whilst I was engaged in sitting
Three lives have I. I spied the dead carrying the living.
Gentle enough to soothe the skin, -A wooden boat.
Light enough to caress the sky, You are walking through a field, and you find something
Hard enough to crack rocks. to eat.
-Water. It doesnt have bones, and it doesnt have meat.
Glittering points You pick it up and put it into your pocket.
That downward thrust, You take it home and put it on a shelf, but 3 days later it
Sparkling spears walks away.
That never rust. What is it?
-Icicle. -An egg.
My life can be measured in hours, I have many feathers to help me fly.
I serve by being devoured. I have a body and head, but Im not alive.
Thin, I am quick It is your strength which determines how far I go.
Fat, I am slow You can hold me in your hand, but Im never thrown.
Wind is my foe. What am I?
-A candle. -An Arrow.
Weight in my belly, An old man wanted to leave all of his money to one of
Trees on my back, his three sons, but he didnt know which one he should give
Nails in my ribs, it to. He gave each of them a few dollars and told them to buy
Feet I do lack. something that would be able to fill their living room. The first
-A ship. man bought straw, but there was not enough to fill the room.
The second bought some packing material, but they still did not
I am always behind you,
fill the room. The third man bought two things that filled the
Never before.
room, so he obtained his fathers fortune. What were the two
You can look upon me,
things that the man bought?
But never return to me.
-The wise son bought a candle and a box of matches so that light
-The past.
could fill the room.
I give you a group of three.
One is sitting down, and will never get up.

70 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling

Chapter Three: The Week of Summer 71
 CHAPTER FOUR:
THE WEEK OF
AUTUMN
Be careful! No, step a little to the left. Yes, thats good.
Now you can put your foot down. What? No, those are not leaves
youre crunching under your heels. Well, okay, yes they are, but
they are special leaves. Im keeping a record of my stories and
knowledge on them. Why? Well.to preserve them, you ninny.
Why else? And it would work so much better if you wouldnt go
around stepping on them.
Here, let me clear you a place to sit down. Is that better?
Good. Now, how can I help you? Hmmm? Oh, you seek
knowledge. Well, I guess this is the time to do so. Can you smell
the change of seasons on the breeze? Do you see the wheat ripe
in the fields? Have you noticed the days growing longer? The sun
and earth turn again, and Persephone returns to her underworld
home. We are not far from beginning the cycle again.
But not yet. Not quite. This is the time of the harvest,
when what has been grown is reaped and counted. This is
when we take stock of our hard work and see whether it was
for naught. So you seek to know whether your efforts were
worthwhile? Knowledge often comes with a price, my child, but
I think it will be easy for you to pay. Now.where did I put that
particular leaf?
The Week of Autumn
Once again the wheel of seasons turns, and we find
ourselves all too quickly in the last week of the Month of the
Changeling. But before your start mourning, we aint done yet!
Character Creation Competition
Yes, thats right. Lets see your favorite character concepts!
These can be old characters of yours, ideas that youve been
dying to put to paper, or something that just sprung to mind.
But there are a few rules, just to set the guidelines.
Modern characters only. If this were a game, the setting
would be after High King Davids disappearance, but before the
Time of Judgment. The character can be from anywhere in the
world.
Canon material only. Anything from any of the books is
fair game (I have them all, so I can check), but any fan-created
material is not allowed. The only exception is that material
from Kithbook:Boggans will be allowed.
Beginning character creations. Yep, even if its your
favorite that youve played for years, you can only use official
starting character point distributions.
Entries must be submitted as if they were an example
character in the sourcebooks. That means that you need to have
the following information: Quote, Background, Role-playing
Hints, Statistics (all of the points and game mechanics).
Otherwise, anything goes, including inanimae, gallain,
thallain, and all other fae. Entries will be judged on originality
and creativity by the Changeling staff. The winner will receive
the title of Master Thane, a custom character sheet of their
character by Mr. Gone, and a custom drawing of their character
by Satyr.
Chapter Four: The Week of Autumn 73

Riddle Contest, Part 2
Remember how I hinted last week that there was more
to the Riddle Contest? Well, here it is. A Riddlemaster should
already have a good knowledge of riddles, and have a repertoire
of his/her own. However, he/she should be able to answer new
riddles presented. Last week was about the first half; this week is
about the second.
Check back in the Riddle Contest forum. Youll see a new
topic. Some of these riddles are ones that were submitted last
week (so those of you who submitted them had better get them
Winner
74 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
right). I have also added several of my own, just to keep you
guys guessing. How do you enter? Simply answer the riddles!
Whoever gets the most correct answers wins! But remember
that only people who gave riddles last week will be considered
as potential winners. What do you win? The cherished title of
Riddlemaster, and a perfect-bound copy of Kithbook:Boggans.
Yes, that means that it looks just like a regular, official Kithbook,
with glossy, color front and back covers!
Final Riddles
1. Two brothers we are, great burdens we bear,
all day we are bitterly pressed; Yet this I will
say - we are full all the day, and empty when
we go to rest.
-Boots/shoes
2. What bites without teeth?
What cuts to the bone and leaves no blood?
What descends from on high
where that immortal saint
the Bishop of Myra, resides?
-the North wind
3. In a marble hall white as milk
Lined with skin as soft as silk
Within a fountain crystal-clear
A golden apple doth appear.
No doors there are to this stronghold,
Yet thieves break in to steal its gold.
-An Egg
4. Always smiles or maybe frowns,
Sinks in water, never drowns.
Catches prey on its barbed teeth.
Hunts all day but never eats 9. There is a black hole
-fish hook In a blue island
5. What force and strength cannot get through, I with a In a white sea.
gentle touch can do. And many in the street would stand, were What am I?
I not a friend at hand. -An eye
What am I? 10. What goes through the door without pinching itself?
-a key What sits on the stove without burning itself?
6. A dragons breath can harm me not, What sits on the table and is not ashamed?
For I can burn twice as hot, -The Sun/sunlight
The strong can be brought to bended knee, 11. I know a word of letters three.
At the merest hint of me, Add two, and fewer there will be.
I live in common and noble alike, -Few
Beneath your breast is where I strike,
Many a tear I have brought to eye, 12. When I am young, I am sweet in the sun.
What, my friend, am I? When middle-aged, I make you gay.
- Love. Love can burn with passion, bring strong men to their knees, When old, I am valued more than ever.
is universal, strikes your heart and can make you cry. What am I?
-Wine
7. What has a tongue but never speaks?
- A Shoe 13. North, South,
east, west,
8. In battle I rage against wave and wind, we run along
Strive against storm, dive down seeking and never rest.
A strange homeland, shrouded by the sea. Where are we going?
In the grip of war, I am strong when still; Everywhere!
In battle-rush, rolled and ripped We never stop
In flight. Conspiring wind and wave Until were there.
Would steal my treasure, strip my hold, -roads
But I seize glory with a guardian tail
As the clutch of stones stands hard 14. I have a tongue but no mouth.
Against my strength. Can you guess my name? Still, loud or soft,
-Anchor. I can sound off.

Chapter Four: The Week of Autumn 75

 Good news or bad,
Glad tidings or sad,
Its the same to me.
Name me! Name me!
-Bell
15. Three sat down at the table.
Two worked together while the third watched.
There was a stabbing, a robbery, and a cut throat.
When the maid walked in, the third jumped in the soup.
Taken away, they were found not guilty.
Tomorrow, theyll be at it again.
-Knife, fork, and spoon.
16. I can be new or old.
I can be thin or full.
I can be big or small.
I can be bright or dull.
Like change in your pocket,
Im different each night.
-Moon.
17. I weight less than a feather
but you cant pick me up.
I can dance but I cant sing.
Without you, I am nothing.
-Shadow
18. What comes once in a minute,
Twice in a moment,
But never in a thousand years?
-Letter M For a child I last forever,
For adults Im gone too fast.
19. What belongs to you but others use it more than you -Childhood
do?
-Your name 24. I never was, am always to be,
No one ever saw me, nor ever will
20. There is water that can be found, And yet I am the confidence of all
Coming neither from heaven nor from the ground, To live and breathe on this terrestrial ball.
It sometimes seems sweet and sometimes bitter, -Tomorrow
Though it always pours forth from the same spring.
What is it? 25. There was a green house.
-Tears Inside the green house there was a white house
Inside the white house there was a red house.
21. Two twins were born on the same day. Inside the red house there were lots of babies.
They were born by the same mother. -Watermelon
They live on either side of a hill.
They have never met, and they never will meet. 26. What is it that only you can give to others, but only
What are they? you can keep?
-ears -Your word
22. Touching one, yet holding two, 27. I begin where I last ended,
It is a one link chain End where I last began,
Binding those who keep words true, And will ever do the same.
til death rent it in twain. You can number how many I have been,
What is it? But do not know how many I will be.
-A Wedding Ring. I am snow and sun, birth and death.
What am I?
23. Never ahead, ever behind, -A year
Yet flying swiftly past;

76 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling

 28. The more you take the more you leave behind. 30. I am a belt that is not worn,
-Footsteps A lion that never growls.
I have scales that do not measure,
29. It goes up, but at the same time goes down. Up toward
Yet I have a flawless guide.
the sky, and down toward the ground. Its present tense and past
What am I?
tense too, come for a ride, just me and you. What is it?
-Stars
-See-Saw

Chapter Four: The Week of Autumn 77

 nobles alike, and by winning their support, you gain a greater
Submitted by Shukura ability to make sure everyone gets Justice. For some that means
vindication. For others sure and swift punishment. As long as its
Quote: Im sorry, I only take cases that I know I can win, and
done fairly, you are content.
I do not defend criminals.
Background: You grew up as the daughter of a prominent
US senator, and spent much time traveling to Washington, DC.
You got to see how laws were created, and what power lawyers
had in making them and enforcing them. You also received an
up-close education on how laws could be abused. Abuse followed
you home, as many classmates picked on you because of your
fathers strong viewpoints. The idea of Justice (with a capital
J) became very important to you, partially because you saw so
many people who could not find it. The quest for Justice became
a driving goal of yours. Realizing that you could not best people
physically, you used your intellect to defeat people in battles of
words.
It was in your late teens that your father received a special
gift. A grateful constituent gave him a copy of one of the
original congressional records, with descriptions of discussions
by Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, and many other
founders. The book fascinated you immediately, as you delved
into the history of the country and how the founders framed
the first laws. You could not stop reading the book, much to the
amusement of your family. It was late one night that the power
in the tome washed over you, releasing your hidden fae self.
Though startled, your Gwydion heritage quickly rose to
the surface. Suddenly the quest for Justice became even more
important. As a member of the most noble of all Kithain Houses,
you realized that you had a duty and responsibility to protect
those weaker than you and without power to help themselves.
You toughed out the banality of law school, obtaining your
degree easily. Your fathers contacts won you a position in a
prestigious New York law firm. You quickly made contacts with
the local Court, but especially made yourself available to the
commoners. Though they were at first wary of you, you quickly
gained their trust. It was defending one prominent commoner
that you gained your freehold. Rather than monetary payment,
you asked for the freehold. Reluctantly, the boggan relented. You
won the case, but also won over many commoners by continuing
to let them visit your balefire. This helped firm your position as
upholder of true Justice. In a twist of fate, the boggan died soon
afterwards, and you took his young child as your own.
Role-playing Hints: People have a difficult time seeing
how you can maintain your Glamour while practicing such a
banal profession. Your natural seriousness and determination
makes them wonder even more. But underlying this exterior is
a passionate nature, one that revels in the challenge of winning
a case. To you the law is something full of Glamour. People
can create binding rituals and guidelines to govern themselves,
and to you this is magical. You also thoroughly enjoy the
competition in the courtroom. Others of your House battle
on the field. You battle just as fiercely before a judge. To you
winning a case is more of a rush than defeating an opponent
with a sword. Yet in the thrill of victory you are certain never to
forget your responsibilities. By networking with commoners and

78 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling

Name: Megan Pemberton Court: Seelie Seeming: Grump
Player: Legacies: Dandy/Peacock Kith: Sidhe
Chronicle: House: Gwydion Motley:

Attributes
Physical Social Mental
Strength OOOOO Charisma OOOOO Perception OOOOO
Dexterity OOOOO Manipulation OOOOO Intelligence OOOOO
Stamina OOOOO Appearance OOOOO Wits OOOOO

Abilities
Talents Skills Knowledges
Alertness OOOOO Crafts OOOOO Computer OOOOO
Athletics OOOOO Drive OOOOO Enigmas OOOOO
Brawl OOOOO Etiquette OOOOO Gremayre OOOOO
Dodge OOOOO Firearms OOOOO Investigation OOOOO
Empathy OOOOO Leadership OOOOO Law OOOOO
Inimidation OOOOO Melee OOOOO Linguistics OOOOO
Kenning OOOOO Performance OOOOO Lore OOOOO
Persuasion OOOOO Security OOOOO Medicine OOOOO
Streetwise OOOOO Stealth OOOOO Politics OOOOO
Subterfuge OOOOO Survival OOOOO Science OOOOO

Advantages
Backgrounds Arts Realms
Resources OOOOO Sovereign OOOOO Actor OOOOO
Holdings OOOOO Chicanery OOOOO Fae OOOOO
Title OOOOO OOOOO OOOOO
Contacts OOOOO OOOOO OOOOO
OOOOO OOOOO OOOOO

Other Traits Glamour Health

Judicial Ties (2 point Merit) OOOOOOOOOO Real Chimerical
Enemy (1 point Flaw) Bruised
Ward (3 point Flaw) Hurt -1
Iron Allergy (3 point Flaw) Injured -1
Willpower Wounded -2
OOOOOOOOOO Mauled -2
Crippled -5
Ravaging/Musing Threshold Incapacitated

Banality Birthrights/Frailties
OOOOOOOOOO Awe and Beauty
Experience: Noble Bearing
Flaw: Banalitys Curse
Submitted by Cara
Tethys
Court: Seelie
Legacies: Arcadian/Rake
Seeming: Nix (Wilder)
House: Syrinx
Kith: Mer
Pysical: Strength 1, Dexterity 3, Stamina 2
Social: Charisma 4, Manipulation 3, Appearance 4
Mental: Perception 3, Intelligence 3, Wits 3
Talents: Alertness 2, Athletics 2, Empathy 2, Kenning 4,
Persuasion 3, Subterfuge 1
Skills: Crafts 3, Performance 2, Stealth 2, Survival 2
Knowledges: Enigmas 1, Gremayre 4, Lore 3, Politics 1
Backgrounds: Title 2, Treasure 3
Arts: Skycraft 3
Realms: Scene 2, Fae 1, Prop 4
Glamour: 4
Banality: 3
Willpower: 3
Merits: Eidetic Memory (2pt), Voice of the Sirens (2pt)
Flaws: Curiosity (2pt), Slipped Seeming (2pt)
Very exotic to the eyes of fey and humans alike she exudes
Apsara: Redband Parrotfish This is the fish the Mer is
an inhuman beauty. But unlike the beauty of the fey it is not an
connected to, from which she gains various bonuses see details
untouchable type of beauty, but more inspires desire. Her hair
below. Gained extra Wits, and merit Coral Shaper (can form
is long and auburn, appearing more red in the sun, brown in
small items out of coral but is especially good at tearing apart
shade. Her eyes are very dark, so one can hardly see her pupils.
coral, or other sea formations)
In her Mer form she has a long green tail ending in a wide, thin
Treasures: Pearl Necklace does level 2 Aphrodisia Yearn.
fan, and wears a light white top and a string of pearls. On land
Large flat polished (reflective) shell, upon looking at person/
she has long thin legs, and wears a light gauzy dress leaving little
items reflected image w/in can do level 1 Soothsay Omen
to the imagination it does not fit w/ styles of the time period
Quote: But how can we ignore the humans? Even though we (on land) and makes her stand out quite a bit. Slipped seeming
rule the Earth they are still affecting our lives. We must understand their means that the green tinge of her skin shows through a bit, and
dreams to survive! something about the way she moves reminds one of the sea. She
Background: A member of House Syrinx, Tethys has been carries the smell of saltwater wherever she goes.
trained primarily as a Spiritual Leader of Sorts her title reflecting Role-Playing Hints: You are fascinated by humans and
more a level of status gained from this than the traditional sidhe the land, not something looked well upon by the other Mer.
interpretation (more like title in KB: ESHU). Also trained to Though your house approves of this more than most you still
protect her people from the dangers above: Skycraft to affect face a lot of disapproval over your actions. Still, you feel that the
mortal ships, and her voice to lure men to their deaths. Her Mer have distanced themselves too much from the other species
treasures came to her w/ the station she holds. However, her of the Earth. You are determined to relearn how to gain glamour
studies have led her to a concept long untouched by the Mer; from humans and seek land fey to help you.
the gaining of glamour straight from human dreams. When they
forsook the land the Mer no longer gained Glamour straight from
this most potent source, but from the sea itself. Curious Tethys
Baroness Amarilli
disobeys edicts to the contrary, and claims to be leaving on a Court: Seelie
spiritual/educational journey of sorts - to contemplate alone in Legacies: Courtier/Fiend
the wilderness as it were. Instead she heads towards the human Seeming: Wilder
habitations in the area, having reviewed the texts on land fey House: Fiona
and what little is known of humans So, she can run into the Kith: Sidhe
sailing ship, or meet people on land, she is woefully ignorant of Pysical: Strength 1, Dexterity 2, Stamina 3
land culture, but well versed in fey lore. Social: Charisma 4, Manipulation 3, Appearance 5
Mental: Perception 3, Intelligence 2, Wits 3

80 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling


Talents: Alertness 2, Dodge 1, Empathy 3, Kenning 3,
Persuasion 3, Subterfuge 2
Skills: Drive 1, Etiquette 2, Leadership 3, Performance 4
Knowledges: Lore 2, Politics 3
Backgrounds: Title 3, Holding 3, Retinue 2
Arts: Sovereign 4
Realms: Fae 3, Scene 2
Glamour: 4
Banality: 3
Willpower: 4
Merits: Iron Resistance (4pt), Poetic Heart (3pt)
Flaws: Cleared Mists (3pt), Surreal Quality (2pt), Slipped
Seeming (2pt)
Quote: Be at ease my Seelie friend. Within the walls of my
freehold you shall be safe!
Background: Baroness Amarilli lives in and runs a small
freehold in the Garden District of New Orleans. In a city full
of cold iron, unseelie bastards, and shadow court intrigue she
holds a determined Seelie freehold. Here is a refuge for the
fey of the city from a land of cold iron and more banality than
most would expect of this famed city. Odd, in that it is the only
manor on the street without a cold iron fence and dcor, the
freehold is otherwise just another manor. Amarilli gets into the
freewheeling party atmosphere of the city. She throws grand
costume balls and masques and invites everyone! Well known
for her skill at the harp, her music is much requested by those
who frequent her holding. Over the few years she has held this
newly recovered freehold she has experienced many difficulties
as the strong unseelie, shadow court, population of the city
attempt to keep her out of their business. Helping her in this
endeavor is an ever watchful pair of sluagh. The sister watches
silent and hidden as the Baroness goes about her business.
She gives her observations on those she meets, and knocks off
those who would do her harm. The brother holds the reigns
of a modest information network, which keeps the Baroness
informed of politics at large.
Role-Playing Hints: Ever optimistic you see a world
where seelie and unseelie can live together! You work hard to
achieve this dream with the minimal resources provided for you.
Always you try to be fair to those within your realm, even when
they resist.
Baroness Silis (Brenda Payton)
Court: Seelie
Legacies: Arcadian/Riddler
Seeming: Wilder
House: Eiluned
Kith: Sidhe
Pysical: Strength 1, Dexterity 3, Stamina 2
Social: Charisma 2, Manipulation 4, Appearance 4
Mental: Perception 3, Intelligence 4, Wits 3
Talents: Empathy 3, Kenning 3, Subterfuge 3
Skills: Etiquette 3, Leadership 2, Stealth 1
Knowledges: Enigmas 2, Gremayre 3, Investigation 2,
Lore 4, Politics 2
Backgrounds: Title 3, Retinue 1, Resources 1, Treasure 3
Arts: Chicanery 3, Oneiromancy 2
Realms: Actor 3, Fae 2
Glamour: 5
Banality: 3
Willpower: 5
Flaws: Blind (6pt), Notoriety (1pt)
Quote: How can you expect to fight the coming Winter when
you dont truly understand it? Let me ask you one simple question, and if
you can answer then we are safe. Who and what, in truth and form, are
the Fomorians really?
Background: Baroness Silis ni Eiluned is blind. She
lost her sight and gained an Eshu companion, Numaan in a
confrontation in the dreaming. She was there attempting to
learn more about the Art of Oneiromancy, which she indeed
managed to learn. The exact details of what occurred between
her, the Dreaming, and the Eshu are unknown to any. He was
attempting to take her life in retribution for fellow Shadow Court
members she had deceived and discovered. In a strange twist of
events Silis saved him and his motley (including his wife) from
his plan gone askew, but lost her sight in the process. Due to this
incident he took a Geas to regain his honor (or because other
forces forced him too?). Silis knows little of the exact wording of
the Geas as she was unconscious during the time it was made. She
suspects it was given by the Eshus elusive Gods, or their secretive
nobles. Through this geas he serves her, without ever speaking,
till some point of the geas is fulfilled. Silis knows he is loyal to
her only so long as the Geas holds him, and worries about the
day he is released from its hold. She has learned to compensate
for her sight through high use of kenning (Pookas still being
Chapter Four: The Week of Autumn 81
 Numaan a silent threatening enigma that youve learned to live
with. Though you try and act nonchalant about his presence
in truth he makes you nervous, after all he could try to kill you
again!

Brigid
Court: Seelie
Legacies: Arcadian/Riddler
Seeming: Wilder
Kith: Satyr
Physical: Strength 3, Dexterity 4, Stamina 4
Social: Charisma 4, Manipulation 1, Appearance 3
Mental: Perception 2, Intelligence 2, Wits 2
Talents: Alertness 2, Athletics 3, Brawl 2, Empathy 3,
Kenning 3
Skills: Crafts 1, Performance 2, Stealth 2, Survival 4
Knowledges: Enigmas 2, Lore 3
Backgrounds: Enchanted Tattoo 1, Retinue 1, Treasure 4
Arts: Chicanery 5
Realms: Actor 3, Fae 1, Nature 2, Scene 1
Glamour: 4
Banality: 2
Willpower: 3
Flaws: Wyld Mind (2pt), Procrastination (1pt)
a bit of a challenge to her.) Silis has bad reputation that she Treasure: Engraved penny whistle, Talecraft 4
rather enjoys. The unseelie court come to her with information
and the seelie are more cautious around her. The silent Eshu at Quote: Well Joe thinks its the Unseelie fae stealing milk from
her beck and call tends to put most commoners and seelie on the cows. Huh? Oh no, hes my dog! Say hi, Joe.
edge immediately. The fact that she knows Oneiromancy is also Character Background: You were born on the rolling
pointed out as evidence of her unseelieness. Many whisper that hills of Ireland. At a young age your mother died leaving you to
she lost her eyes in the dreaming trying to learn things those be raised by your father alone. A busy farmer he never had much
good Seelie changelings should leave alone. In the past she has time for you. He gave you a sheep dog and set you to herding
used her easy rapport with the unseelie to uncover shadow court
secrets detrimental to her House. This reputation, however,
is quite false; in truth she is fervently seelie. Her own interests
and studies revolve around pre sundering changeling lore as she
believes the answers to preventing the coming Winter lie in
the past. She studies ancient Changeling history through those
with high remembrance, often through viewing their dreams.
When necessary Silis finds that blind and strange gets you a
good reputation as a psychic and dream interpreter if mortal
money becomes necessary. Numaan has left his family in Africa
to fulfill his oath. His only money comes from some investments
which he keeps a sharp eye on. Most of that money goes home to
his wife, a Satyr, and their child. Silis and Numaan each have a
cobalt blue glass eye pendant that allows Silis to temporarily see
through his eyes. She also has a ring that does Omen. Numaan
has a chimerical Scimitar.
Role-Playing Hints: Having broken ties with your mortal
family early you avoid the mundane world where possible. Most
of your time is spent in the fae world trying to learn more about
the true history of the fae and how it could apply to the coming
winter. You are fanatically loyal to your house and often work
for them ferreting out unseelie and shadow court elements in
freeholds you are sent to as a historian. Always at your side is

82 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling

sheep. The town is far away and few other children were around
to play with. So, you ran wild, often forgetting your duties.
Through the woods youd run playing your pipes looking for
anything of interest.
Upon coming into your fae self little changed for you. Save
that the parties got bigger! One night at a particularly raucous
party an Eshu claiming he knew how to make cantrips into
tattoos began work on your thigh. In the morning, hangover, you
found a green glowing tattoo shining through the fur on your leg
(black on your mortal flesh) and the world turned upside down!
The cantrip (Willow Whisper) was not correctly applied and
a bit of your sanity has gone out the window. You tend to talk
to random things as if they were sentient, and sometimes they
reply! Lately youve been telling everyone weird stories about
your dog: the Border Collie, Joe Friday. Though evidence and
kenning generally disprove this story you claim is actually a
pooka who forgot himself and stays with you because he loves
you. Naturally no one believes a word of this save gullible Eshu.
Your aptitude with Arts helps tends to disturb other changelings.
They seem to feel that someone whos not all there shouldnt be
able to casually ensnare someones heart.
Role-Playing hints: From the legacy Arcadian, Wyld
Mind, and your Tattoo you are in a constant mild state of bedlam
(level 1-2) which, curiously, doesnt seem to disturb you much.
Often you address questions to random objects! You treat your Background: Naming and Lore are your passions. After
dog like a person, and seem mystified when people are confused studying with Dr. Thomas Lagarri you became a member of the
by your insistence on what he said. Easy going and a party lover crystal circle and are looking for a court to set up residence in.
you tend to forget duty for fun. Your companion is a Gryphon named Tiorail who stands ready
to protect you whenever necessary. In the mortal world you are
Velethe a archivist at the local library. You are under a geas to grant a
Court: Seelie boon to anyone who asks you in Faeriliths name. This to help
Legacies: Virtuoso/Witch control the fantastic powers granted upon any who study the
Seeming: Wilder naming arts.
House: Eiluned Role-Playing Hints: Despite your noble background you
Kith: Sidhe end up spending a lot of time with commoners. Especially the
Physical: Strength 1, Dexterity 3, Stamina 2 sluagh. So, you tend to downplay your noble status and try not
Social: Charisma 2, Manipulation 3, Appearance 6 to be too overbearing. Of course you dont always succeed. At all
Mental: Perception 3, Intelligence 4, Wits 3 times you hold yourself to the very highest standards of honor,
Talents: Alertness 1, Empathy 1, Kenning 4, Subterfuge 3 etiquette and poise. But you are very willing to try new things in
Skills: Etiquette 3, Leadership 2 an effort to prove yourself to be more than your title!
Knowledges: Enigmas 2, Gremayre 5, Lore 5, Politics 1
Backgrounds: Resources 1, Title 4, Chimera Phaedra (Victoria Weaver)
(Companion) 4 Court: Seelie
Arts: Soothsay 1, Naming 4 Legacies: Sage/Grotesque
Realms: Fae 3, Prop 3 Seeming: Grump
Glamour: 5 Kith: Sluagh
Banality: 3 Physical: Strength 1, Dexterity 3, Stamina 2
Willpower: 6 Social: Charisma 2, Manipulation 4, Appearance 2
Merits: Eidetic Memory (2pt) Mental: Perception 3, Intelligence 4, Wits 3
Flaws: Geas (5pt), Nightmare (1pt), Changeling Eyes Talents: Alertness 3, Empathy 2, Kenning 1, Subterfuge 3
(1pt) Skills: Etiquette 2, Stealth 3
Quote: Let me hold your hand and then well see what you are Knowledges: Enigmas 3, Gremayre 2, Psychology 5,
made of! Academics 3

Chapter Four: The Week of Autumn 83


Backgrounds: Resources 4, Dreamer 1
Arts: Chicanery 4
Realms: Actor 5, Fae 1, Scene 1
Glamour: 4
Banality: 5
Willpower: 5
Merits: Night Sight (3pt), Iron Allergy (3pt), Friend to
Spiders (4pt)
Flaws: Sadist (2pt), Slipped Seeming (1pt), Enemy (1pt)
Quote: No, I didnt see anyone with red eyes go by. The night
must be playing tricks on you
Background: You are a professor of Psychology at the
local University. Your specialties are anxiety disorder, criminal
psychology, child psychology, and behaviorism. All of this comes
in very handy in scaring the living daylights out of the students
at night. You like to haunt the steam tunnels under the campus
and bring nightmares to life as your method of gaining glamour.
You live near campus in an ancient frat house full of pleasant
spider webs and ghosts. You also have a dreamer in one of your
classes. A student who writes horror novels!
Role-Playing Hints: By day a nerdy professor, by night
a nightmare under your bed. You delight in gaining glamour
from the terror of others. Youve discovered a wonderful way to
combine that with your studies of the human mind. As well you
work to fight the theories of Anton Stark and are always ready
to save changelings unfairly put away as insane.
84 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
Ginsu
Court: Unseelie
Legacies: Knave/Panderer
Seeming: Wilder
Kith: Redcap
Physical: Strength 3, Dexterity 4, Stamina 3
Social: Charisma 3, Manipulation 3, Appearance 2
Mental: Perception 2, Intelligence 2, Wits 3
Talents: Alertness 3, Athletics 1, Brawl 2, Dodge 2,
Intimidation 3, Streetwise 2
Skills: Drive 2, Melee 4, Performance 3
Knowledges: Cooking 4, Lore 1
Backgrounds: Resources 2, Treasure 3
Arts: Chicanery 3
Realms: Actor 3, Fae 1, Prop 1
Glamour: 5
Banality: 3
Willpower: 6
Merits: Ambidextrous (1pt)
Flaws: Obsession (Anime)(2pt)
Treasure: 2 Ginsu Knives that are always sharp and can
cut through near anything (Gimmix).
Quote: I love that manga! Did you see the one where the demon
bites Kamuis whole head off? That was great!
Background: You love Japanese culture! As soon as
possible you learned to make sushi. Its food and its art, and
the let you use a really sharp knife! You like to make the sushi
experience interesting beyond ancient culture. You play anime
on the TVs and turn sushi making into a stage performance,
tossing sushi through the air knives flashing. Violence and
ravaging are second nature to you and when not at work you like
to prowl the streets with your motley seeking someone to use for
entertainment purposes.
Role-Playing hints: Anime is so great, anything Japanese
is worth checking out. The only things you like better are your
knives, and a chance to use them

Originally Alshain falcon, but she currently goes

by Tarazed plundering falcon
Court: Unseelie
Legacies: Riddler/Saint
Seeming: Grump
Kith: Pooka (Falcon/Merlin)
Physical: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 3
Social: Charisma 2, Manipulation 2, Appearance 2
Mental: Perception 3, Intelligence 4, Wits 3
Talents: Alertness 3, Dodge 1, Intimidation 3, Kenning 1,
Persuasion 1, Streetwise 1
Skills: Sailing 2, Firearms 2, Melee 3
Knowledges: Enigmas 2, Gremayre 2, Linguistics 1, Lore
(Astrology) 4, Astronomy 4
Backgrounds: Treasure 5
Arts: Soothsay 3
Realms: Fae 1, Prop 3, Scene 2
Glamour: 5 Though Alshain had little hope that Minkar remained
Banality: 5 alive she nevertheless would not give up on him. She turned her
Willpower: 7 knowledge of the skies to navigation and, changing her name to
Merits: True Love (1pt) Tarazed, signed on with the first fey pirate crew she could find.
Flaws: Winged (2pt) In exchange for her skill at navigation they taught her the ways
Treasure: A Cutlass with an engraved basket grip. This of piracy - sailing and combat. After that fatal night she vowed
treasure when activated by a point of Glamour does Wayfare to never again ignore the signs about her and has become very
2 and the Pooka merit Intimidation. Given to her by the first superstitious. Ever since she has moved from ship to ship. Any
Pirate captain under whom she served. One might argue that kind will do from chimerical galleons to mortal cruise ships from
some of the problems associated w/ the merit mentioned above these she searches in every port for news of her lost beloved.
happen whenever she carries this treasure on her person, not Staying with each ship for a few years, and then moving on
just when she activates it. when the urge is upon her, or opportunity presents itself.
Quote: What good would healing my wings do? Without my love Her face and body are thin and birdlike. From long years
there is no reason to fly. of sailing her skin is very tanned and her brown hair is a bit
Background: In her youth Alshain studied/worked at the bleached. She has wings, but they are ruined, supposedly beyond
Sidhe Court in Britain. There she trained under, and eventually repair. A silver colored bone frame with a few feathers are all
took over from, the court Astronomer/soothsayer. Alshain fell in that remains in her human form. In bird form her wings are
love with another pooka, a blackbird. A great scholar, storyteller misshapen but work to a small extent.
and a romantic, Minkar studied myths of lost fey and human Role-Playing Hints: After your true love was killed your
treasures, collecting many maps and artifacts. It came to pass whole world changed. You realized how banal and stupid it was
that Minkar discovered a few very important facts about some to disbelieve in superstition. Now you carry many charms for
powerful fey treasures. He revealed this only to Alshain and the luck and tends to be very superstitious - whether this actually
highest nobles of the court. Late one night Alshain spotted a does you any good is unknown. Restless you search the world
bad omen in the skies, but saw such things as mere superstitions over from the prow of a ship seeking any sign of your lost love.
and not science. That very night a group of thallain and the
worst sort of unseelie fey broke into their home, knocked him
out and carried him off. Alshain tried to fight for her love, but
did not know how. Laughing an Ogre brutally crushed her wings
and beat her, leaving her broken in the doorway to their house.

Chapter Four: The Week of Autumn 85

Submitted by Sandchigger
Sawney
Court: Seelie
Legacies: Wayfarer/Outlaw
Seeming: Grump
Kith: Redcap
Physical: Strength 4, Dexterity 3, Stamina 3
Social: Charisma 2, Manipulation 2, Appearance 2
Mental: Perception 3, Intelligence 2, Wits 3
Talents: Alertness 1, Athletics 1, Brawl 3, Dodge 2,
Intimidation 3, Kenning 1, Streetwise 2
Skills: Drive 1, Leadership 1, Melee 3, Security 1, Stealth
1, Survival 2
Knowledges: Enigmas 1, Gremayre 2, Investigation 1,
Law 1, Lore 1
Backgrounds: Chimera 2, Dreamers 2, Holdings 1,
Remembrance 3
Arts: Wayfare 3
Realms: Actor 2, Fae 2, Nature 1
Glamour: 5
Banality: 5
Willpower: 5
Merits: Granite Skin (2pt), Past Life (4pt) He worked at the factory for years, the job became
Flaws: Echoes (2pt) (Must accept a riddle challenge, and mindless pretty quick, just repetitively bolting part a onto part b.
must let any winners pass unharmed) Part, bolt, part. Part, bolt, part. Part, bolt, part. Then everything
Quote: Under the bridge downtown changed. Seems that labor was cheaper overseas, or maybe in
Is where I drew some blood Mexico or somewhere. Point was, the factory was closing its
Under the bridge downtown doors and laying off all its workers. Sams job was gone, his
I could not get enough income was gone, his family was hungry, his kids were squealing
Under the bridge downtown for their next meal, his wife was pissed at him for losing his job.
Forgot about my love He hit the streets, pounding the pavement day in and day out,
Under the bridge downtown trying to find a job with no luck, coming home at the end of
I gave my life away each day more tired and hungry than when he started out.
Background: Who am I? Im the monster under the Then one day he came home to find the locks changed on
bridge, of course. I always have been and I always will be. But... the door. Peering in the dirty windows, he saw that the furniture
there was a time when I think I wasnt. When I think I was was gone. Jenny had left, and taken the kids and everything else
something else. I remember before the bridge, before the hunger, with her while he was out. His home was gone, his family was
before the blood. gone, his job was gone, everything was gone.
Yes, I remember living in a house... somewhere. Somewhere So he went to the bridge. Hed driven over it everyday on
in the upworld. Family? Family... I remember a woman. I his way to the factory - now an empty husk on the edge of town,
remember ... I remember... the bridge. already succumbing to rust and neglect. This little bridge that
Sawney was born Samuel Beane. He grew up like most ran over the drainage creek in the man-made concrete culvert.
children in his hometown, absentmindedly neglected by his He stood on the guard rail and took a final breath and jumped.
hard-working parents. They were doing the best they could, he The fall should have killed him. He should have splattered
didnt blame them for not paying attention to him. His family on the concrete like an overripe tomato. But he didnt. He
wasnt rich, hell, they werent even comfortable, but they never changed into something... else. A being of hunger, a being of
went hungry. Well, almost never. the dark and damp under the bridge, a being of dreams and
So, Sam grew up, dropped out of high school for an entry- nightmares.
level factory job when he turned eighteen and worked hard, like Role-Playing Hints: Talk to yourself, your two souls, the
his dad and his dads dad and his dads dads dad. He got married broken man and the insane beast are at eternal war and rarely
to his high-school girlfriend and had a few kids, making ends agree on anything. The Beast hungers for blood, combat, and
meet after the twins were born was tough, but he managed. solitude while the Broken Man wants only peace.

86 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling

Submitted by Spanglemaker
Offi
Court: Seelie
Legacies: Saint/Riddler
Seeming: Wilder
Kith: Troll
Physical: Strength 2, Dexterity 2, Stamina 3
Social: Charisma 3, Manipulation 2, Appearance 3
Mental: Perception 4, Intelligence 4, Wits 2
Talents: Alertness 1, Athletics 1, Brawl 1, Dodge 2,
Empathy 3, Kenning 3, Persuasion 2, Subterfuge 2
Skills: Etiquette 3, Melee 1, Survival 1
Knowledges: Computer 2, Enigmas 3, Gremayre 2,
Medicine 2
Backgrounds: Mentor 5, Resources 1
Arts: Primal 1, Soothsay 3
Realms: Fae 3, Nature 2, Scene 1
Glamour: 4
Banality: 3
Willpower: 3
Merits: Art Affinity (Soothsay)(5pt)
Flaws: Echoes (3pt), Curiosity (2pt)
Now that you have completed your training you are no
Quote: Allow me to scry for further information then failing that longer an apprentice and must set out to fulfill your destiny. You
I could always do a web search. chose to start in Concordia, as since the disappearance of the
Background: Your childhood was full of both fear and joy. High King, there are lots of kithain who need healing.
You were always the weakest, the butt of all jokes. You quickly Role-Playing Hints: You are a smart, friendly wilder who
learnt how to dodge trouble and thankfully the voices of the gets on with most other kithain, other wilder trolls tend not to
woodland would always tell you where to play and be safe. When be so friendly, as they only respect physical strength. You seek to
cornered you were smart enough and could occasionally charm develop your skill within the Arts and Realms of Faerie Magic,
your way out of trouble. Your mother would sometimes look at so that you can help others, your true vocation is that of Healer
you strangely and you would often notice a slight glow around or Seer. You can contact your Mentor through scrying. Always
her. She would tell you stories of brave heroes, adventure and remain calm and polite. You learn more by not rushing into
magic. At the age of thirteen you experienced your Chrysalis, things. You have the intelligence to search for several solutions
then you realized your true nature and that your mother was to problems and you can use technology and magic to help you.
actually Kinain with the blood of the Sidhe in her veins. She was Always seek to help others with their problems, as a problem
a Prophetess and one of the Sisters of Avalon, a group of Seers shared is a problem halved.
and Healers who are guardians of the Hidden Isle of Avalon.
Oath bound never to reveal the secrets of the Sisterhoods
existence until certain prophecies have been fulfilled. They also
Submitted by Kalirush
are allied with Merlin, which is a title and role handed down
from one Kithain Sorcerer to another, down through the ages. Pota Andropolous
These secrets are part of the Matter of Britain, the Isle of the Court: Unseelie
Mighty. The Isle of Avalon is somewhere within the Dreaming. Legacies: Outcast/Crafter
You were taken there to begin your training as it seems that Seeming: Grump
certain prophecies may refer to you. You were born on a certain Kith: Nocker
day, under the auspices of certain celestial signs. Born with a Physical: Strength 1, Dexterity 4, Stamina 2
strong gift of Magic and Healing, your training developed those Social: Charisma 1, Manipulation 3, Appearance 2
talents and you received personal tuition from Lady Morganna, Mental: Perception 3, Intelligence 4, Wits 3
in the Art of Soothsay. She has taken you on as her ward and Talents: Alertness 3, Athletics 1, Brawl 2, Dodge 2,
this is a privilege for she is none other than the Lady of the Intimidation 3, Kenning 2, Streetwise 1
Lake, Mistress of the Isle of Avalon and a Sorceress who has Skills: Crafts 4, Drive 3, Firearms 3, Leadership 2
access to Arts believed lost to the Kithain. Knowledges: Chimerical Alchemy 2, Gematria 4
Backgrounds: Chimera 4, Resources 1

Chapter Four: The Week of Autumn 87


Arts: Legerdemain 3
Realms: Fae 1, Prop 4
Glamour: 4
Banality: 5
Willpower: 8
Flaws: Hard of Hearing (1pt), Echoes (2pt), Troglodyte
(1pt)
Quote: The captain wants what? And I should give a flying
@#$% why, ylittle @#!#^? Tell his royal #$@in highness he can damn
well drag his @@$ down to the engine room, like anybody else, he wants
to talk to me.
Background: Pota came to her Chrysalis in a world
without rulers, and she liked it that way. She was born to
Greek-Americans living in Boston, and she spent her teenaged
years running with an assorted group of changelings out of the
Fools Gambit. She was bright, but more importantly, she was
indomitable. She refused to let anyone tell her what a Greek, or
a girl, or a teenager, or a nocker ought to do.
Nevertheless, she loved building things- mostly automated
creatures that never did what you expected them to do. She was
just starting at MIT in engineering- one of the very few female
students- when man landed on the moon in 1969. Like the rest
of the Fae world, she stared in wonder as the heavens opened
and the Shining Host came galloping out. For a little while,
even Pota, cynical from birth, was caught up in the brilliant
promise of their return.
Then, of course, came the Beltaine Massacre. It was
followed by stories of the atrocities that Sovereign can be used
to commit, and the beginning of the sidhe march eastward. Pota
never forgave the sidhe for not being as bright or good as she
had dreamed them to be. She started learning the art of weapon-
88 Shadownessence: The Month of the Changeling
smithing, knowing that she would fight them soon. When the
Minute Men began recruiting in the Fools Gambit, she joined
up.
She spent the rest of the Accordance War harassing
and raiding the sidhe. When Boston fell to the sidhe advance,
she became a wanted criminal and was forced to leave. She
eventually found her way to the Great Lakes, where there was
a navy being assembled. She and some of her fellow Minute
Men joined a ship, and it was with the Great Lakes Campaign,
and the Battle of Isle Royale that the war ended for her. With
most of her shipmates dead, and her best friend brainwashed
and kidnapped as a hostage against her, she decided shed had
enough. The eventual end of the war tasted only like bitter ashes
in her mouth.
She left on a nocker ship to Europe the same day that
David forged his peace. She traveled through most of Europe
for twenty years, selling her talents as a craftsman. While there
were parts of it that she liked, it never became home to her. The
memory of her lost homeland ate at her. Finally, in the early
90s, she was contacted by an eshu with a plan. He wanted to
commission her to design a pirate ship and submarine in order
to harass the Concordian coasts. She agreed, on the condition
that he include her in the crew. Ever since, shes presided over
the engine room of the Naughty Ship Red Herring with near-
impenetrable bitterness. She wants nothing more than to topple
the Concordian monarchy and start a new Accordance War-
one that will end with the downfall of the sidhe hierarchy.
Role-Playing Hints: You are old in a society that worships
youth, and tired in ways youre not really ready to admit- even to
yourself. You take everything that anyone does as a challenge to
you and your competence. You are painfully aware of the passage
of years and the slow loss of your vitality, something that makes
you futilely angry. Nowadays, you build with a manic fire, as if
you could make up in intensity what youve lost in years, tears,
and death
Eve
Court: Unseelie
Legacies: Beast/Saint
Seeming: Wilder
Kith: Sluagh
Physical: Strength 1, Dexterity 3, Stamina 2
Social: Charisma 2, Manipulation 3, Appearance 3
Mental: Perception 4, Intelligence 3, Wits 3
Talents: Alertness 3, Dodge 1, Empathy 3, Intimidation
3, Kenning 3
Skills: Cooking 3, Drive 2, Stealth 4
Knowledges: Enigmas 3, Gremayre 1, Linguistics 1,
Medicine 2
Backgrounds: Resources 2, Remembrance 2, Treasure 1 (a
spoon that makes food taste better)
Arts: Chicanery 3
Realms: Actor 2, Fae 2, Prop 1
Glamour: 5
Banality: 3
 Willpower: 7
Flaws: Shy (1pt)
Quote: Tell me where to find that bitch, little boy. If you do
not, I swear to you that you will never sleep again for knowing the pretty
patterns your guts will be making on the ceiling when you wake
Background: Eve was born Evelyn Rothchild, the daughter
of nice, middle-class parents. A shy girl, she was never popular
with children her age. Instead, she spent most of her time at
the nursing home where her grandmother lived. She found she
liked being with the elderly, the sick, and the dying. One day,
her grandmamma sat her down. She thanked Eve for visiting
her, when the rest of the goddamned family has forgotten I
exist, damn them. The woman handed Eve her diary and then
shot herself. Splattered in the old womans blood, Eve had an
epiphany. She discovered her sluagh nature and her intimate
connection with death in the same moment.
She had no aptitude or desire to become a doctor or work
in a funeral home. Instead, she chose to work with the dying
and the soon-to-be-dead. She began working for a hospice
organization, visiting patients in their homes to cook meals and
assist them in various ways. The pay was terrible, but it meant
that she got to help people through those last, painful days- just
as shed helped her grandmother.
Her life changed when a bomb went off at an aerospace
facility in town. A boggan named Talos- the apprentice of a She began systematically hunting down and viciously killing
Dougal sidhe- was nearly killed in the blast, and someone was everyone she considered responsible for taking her Talos away
needed to take care of him. The sidhe hired her for the job. She from her. Most of them are dead now, and no one knows what
cared for Talos through his recovery, and the long painful process she will do when she runs out of victims.
of him trying to learn to live with half his body blown away. In Role-Playing Hints: You never go into a situation
the process, she found herself falling in love. Even after he had without planning every detail carefully, and you never come
learned to live by himself, she continued to come by to cook his out of a situation without getting what you wanted. You walk
dinner. She was no longer being paid to do so; she just quietly through life fueled by a rage that very few people understand,
kept coming. He knew, but found that he was happier having but it burns like ice. It is also burning you up- you dont ever
her with him than away, and so said nothing. They were happy think about what will happen when your quest is over. You just
with each other for a time. Then, one day, Talos was called on keep going, because the more time you spend thinking about
quest by the local nobility. She followed him, even deep into the your next assassination, the less time you spend thinking about
Dreaming. Only she returned. everything you have lost.
Eve went mad, then. She had always felt most comfortable
with those near death- and she saw no reason why the nobles
who sent her love to his death should not be among them.

Chapter Four: The Week of Autumn 89