Appendix

Character Development

  This section discusses the ways a character can increase (or decrease) in power and abilities.

Experience

  During a story, characters learn many things. Much of what they learn is not the type of thing that can be recorded on character sheets, but something the players keep in mind thereafter. They may learn never to leave a car door unlocked or never to walk into a dark alley with a light behind them. Sometimes, however, what characters learn can be recorded.
  At the end of each story, the Storyteller awards experience points to each character, normally giving the same amount to each one. The players then record the points on their character sheets. Experience points can be used to increase Traits.
  The cost for raising Traits varies widely; see the chart below for specifics. The cost is almost always based on the product of the present rating and a certain number. Thus, if the character has an Alertness rating of 2, and the player wants to raise it to 3, it costs four experience points to do so. If the character does not have the Trait at all, the cost is listed as a "new" Trait. A Trait can only be increased by one dot per story — never more.

Roleplay It

  As the Storyteller, you should not let a player spend her experience points to raise any Trait she wishes — it's a little more involved than that. The increased Trait must be something the character had a chance to leam or use during the story — either the character achieved great success through use of the Trait, or she made a big mistake from which she can leam. In the case of Willpower, something must have actually occurred to bolster the character's self-confidence.
  You should only allow Trait increases if they can be or have been woven into the story. At the very least, the changes need to make sense in terms of the story, and not simply be changes the player makes because she wants her character to gain certain powers or skills. The more you force the players to make sense of their experiences, the more character development as a whole is furthered.

Awarding Experience Points

  Assigning experience points requires a careful balance between rewarding the players and maintaining game balance. If you follow the guidelines below, you probably won't get into too much trouble, but feel free to experiment as you see fit.

End of Each Chapter

  Give each character one to five experience points at the end of each chapter (game session). One point is given whether or not the group succeeds or fails, as a function of simply participating (remember, sometimes we learn despite ourselves).
  • One point — Automatic: Each player gets one point after every game session.
  • One point — Learning Curve: The character learned something from his experiences during the chapter. Ask the player to describe what his character learned before you award the point.
  • One point — Acting: The player roleplayed well — not just entertainingly, but appropriately. Award for exceptional roleplaying only; your standards should get increasingly higher. In most cases, award this only to the person who did the best roleplaying in the troupe.
  • One point — Concept: The player acted out her character's concept very well.
  • One point — Heroism: When a character risks herself for others, such as when she fends off several enemies with iron weapons in order to allow the rest of the group to escape, give her an experience point. Don't let characters take advantage of this; there is a fine line between heroism and stupidity.

End of Each Story

  At the end of each story, you can assign each player one to three additional experience points over and above the one to five points earned for completing the chapter.
  • One point — Success: The characters succeeded in their immediate mission or goal. Perhaps it was not a complete success, but at least a marginal victory was achieved.
  • One point — Danger: The character experienced great danger during the story and survived.
  • One point — Wisdom: The player (and thus the character) exhibited great wits or resourcefulness, or came up with an idea that enabled the group to succeed.
  If you want to award even more points, thus allowing the characters to develop even more quickly, simply invent new categories in which to award experience. These can even vary from story to story, and can be based on the specific circumstances of that story.

Increasing and Decreasing Traits

  The costs for permanently raising the Traits listed below are listed on the Experience Chart.

Raising Arts and Realms

  It is possible for a changeling to learn Arts and Realms on her own, but it takes longer and requires more effort. If a changeling has the Mentor Background, she may roll (usually against difficulty 6) a number of dice equal to the Trait score; each success reduces the cost of learning the Art or Realm. For example, a character with four dots in Mentor can roll four dice (difficulty 6); each success subtracts one from the experience cost to learn that Art or Realm.

Antagonists

  Changelings inhabit a world filled with perilous adventure, nightmarish monsters and legendary treasures. Unlike humans, who must usually contend only with the dangers of our violent modern world, changelings must also be wary of threats from the Dreaming. Rarely does the Dreaming allow changelings much time for peace; sooner or later, enemies rear their heads.

The Nunnehi

  When the Kithain of Europe arrived in the New World, they discovered an entire species of changelings who were not at all like them. Born of the dreams and myths of the native people, these other changelings, or Nunnehi, became justifiably angry at the European invasion. Just as European mortals came into conflict with the Native Americans, so the Kithain and the nunnehi clashed. Although many changelings sought to seal pacts of peace with the nunnehi (and in a few cases were successful), a constant state of unrest still exists between European changelings and Nunnehi.

Nunnehi Policies

  The wisest dukes and barons have made peaceful overtures to the Nunnehi. This, however, has met with limited success. For the most part, Kithain nobles are unwilling to conform to the centuries of custom, etiquette and law that the Nunnehi cherish. For their part, Nunnehi despise the impatience and pigheadedness that mark Kithain politics.
  For more information about the Nunnehi tribes, see Changeling Players Guide.
  Nunnehi Raider: Nomadic Nunnehi can be found anywhere. They use great cunning in battle and retreat at the first sign of serious conflict — they seek to upset, disrupt and terrify rather than engage their enemies directly. They are intelligent tacticians and strategists, with an uncanny ability to discern weakness in their targets.
  Character Creation: Attributes 9/5/4, Abilities 18/10/6, Backgrounds 7, Glamour 6, Willpower 6, Arts 7, Realms 5
  Suggested Attributes: Assume ratings of 2, except for Perception and Intelligence, which are usually 3.
  Suggested Abilities: Combat abilities are prized. Alertness, Kenning, Lore and Occult are usually high.
  Equipment: Light and heavy firearms, motorcycles, possibly some treasures

Fomori

  Driven by an ancient evil, these creatures do not remember their faerie past. In older times, a group of Unseelie made a pact with a force of destruction, taint and oblivion, which they called the Dark. These corrupted Unseelie sought to infect the Dreaming with their power. A great war was waged against the Dark, and the pure fae won. Those who had collaborated with the Dark were deemed Prodigal, excommunicated from the Dreaming and named fomori, or outcasts. The fomori were banished to the lair of the Dark, never to bother the children of the Dreaming again.
  Or so it was thought. The Dark always finds a way. Modern Kithain have begun to realize that this long-forgotten threat has blossomed anew. Unnatural changelings are being born, their souls those of the original Unseelie traitors.
  Fomori possess frightening powers that easily defeat Banality, and fomori themselves appear to be unaffected by Banality. They have also been known to be completely immune to Glamour. Luckily, the fomori have not yet made a concerted effort to attack changelings; they appear to be busy attacking other Prodigals (see "Werewolves," pg. 284), and for this reason Kithain occasionally ally themselves with werewolves. All Kithain fear the day that these hideous creatures fully turn their attention toward the fae.
  Character Creation: Attributes 10/6/3, Abilities 15/9/3, Backgrounds 5, Glamour 5, Willpower 5, Banality 10, Arts 5, Realms 5 (equivalents — all fomori have special powers granted to them by the Dark.)
  Suggested Attributes: Assume ratings of 2, except for Physical Traits, which have ratings of 3 or even 4. Appearance is often zero; fomori are generally grotesque.
  Suggested Abilities: Brawl 3, Dodge 1, Firearms 1, Melee 2, Occult 1, Stealth 1, Survival 2
  Equipment: Fomori are often equipped with an array of heavy weaponry: assault rifles, combat knives, flak jackets, etc.

Orphan Chimera

  In ancient times, any fae who chose to do so could focus some of his own Glamour into the formation of a chimera. Now, with the weight of Banality everywhere, chimera tend to be creatures of accidental creation rather than conscious decision.
  Four basic types of chimera are known, though at times the interspecies lines blur.

Nervosa

  Certainly one of the most unnerving varieties of chimera is the nervosa. Born of madness, nervosa are completely unpredictable.
  Plague
  This nervosa is born from delirium caused by pain or fever. It fills its victim with feelings of sickness. A person in the grip of a plague nervosa will start to feel chills, aches, nausea and the like, but may not manifest physical symptoms. The symptoms become debilitating, and a person in full possession will start to show physical signs of illness.
  Plague nervosa choose to haunt hospitals, urgent-care centers, hospices and places associated with sickness (like the Center for Disease Control in Atlanta, which houses especially virulent ones). With diseases such as AIDS and ebola, changelings fear the rise of more plague nervosa.
  A typical plague nervosa appears as a person in the advanced throes of its "parent" illness.
  Chimera Point Cost: 25
  Attributes: Strength 1, Dexterity 4, Stamina 2, Perception 4, Intelligence 4, Wits 3
  Glamour: 8, Willpower: 3
  Health Levels: OK, -1, -1, -2,-3, -5
  Attack: None (see below)
  Redes: Fester
  The Monster Under the Bed
  Well, actually, there are a lot of monsters under the bed. There are things like giant purple snakes that wait for your hands or feet to stick out over the edge of the mattress so they can grab you, and there are small things that simply sit and stare back at you (with big, googly, yellow eyes) just outside the beam of the flashlight. Most changelings find they have one of the two kinds described below, and they are certainly the best known.
  The Snuffler
  It's big, it's hairy, it smells like dirty laundry, and it has teeth the size of jumbo crayons. You can hear it snuffling around down there, rooting in the odd socks, broken cap guns and dingy tennis balls you were afraid to look for once they had disappeared into its realm. Your Mom and Dad can't see it, but your older brother swears — cross his heart and hope to die — that it eats little kids just like you. He says it got Jimmy Peternik three years ago, and now it's moved in to get you.
  Don't you believe it. The big ones are okay, once you get to know them. Talk to yours. Toss him the crusts off your sandwiches, and leave him the last little bit of milk in the glass. They like that kind of stuff; it's far easier (and much tastier) than hunting dustbunnies to eat. Give him a good name (like Groncher, Murgelflurt, Augustus or Fred), and before you know it, you'll have the best pal a childling ever knew.
  Chimera Point Cost: 35
  Attributes: Strength 5, Dexterity 2, Stamina 3, Perception 4, Intelligence 1, Wits 3
  Glamour: 7, Willpower: 3
  Health Levels: OK, OK, OK, -1, -1, -1, -2, -2, -3, -5
  Attack: Bite/6 dice
  Talents: Alertness 2, Athletics 2, Brawl 4, Dodge 2, Smell 5
  Redes: Gulp
  The Scritchers
  These are the ones you've gotta watch out for. If you hear one, you know you've got at least a dozen. They're tricky. They plot and they plan, and they always know when you need to get up to go to the bathroom. The Scritchers just live for chances like that, and the more powerful kinds deliberately make you thirsty in the evening so you'll have to go later, after your parents are asleep. You don't even want to think about what they'll do to you if they catch you.
  Fortunately, you can work around them. They don't like light, and if you can convince your parents to let you keep the lamp on, you'll be absolutely safe. Another good dodge is to walk to the door of your room without touching the floor. The Scritchers (even if they've climbed up a bookshelf or something) can't touch you unless you're touching the floor.
  If you're really good at talking, you can confuse them and escape that way. They also take bribes, can be tricked into fighting among themselves, and hate the sound of whistling. Very clever, kind or persistent changelings have been known to convert their Scritchers into allies by force, friendship or intrigue.
  Chimera Point Cost: 35
  Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 5, Stamina 2, Perception 3, Intelligence 3, Wits 3
  Glamour: 7, Willpower: 4
  Health Levels: OK, -1, -2, -5
  Attack: Bite/3 dice or Claw/3 dice
  Talents: Alertness 4, Athletics 4, Brawl 2, Dodge 5
  Redes: Scuttle

Nocnitsa

  Nocnitsa are chimera born from the darkest of nightmares. They are perhaps the most feared chimera of all.
  The Creeping Fear (Spider Chimera)
  Legends of giant spiders have been told for centuries, supposedly ancestral memories from times when the occasional giant arachnid scuttled from a forgotten cave or forest comer. Unfortunately for changelings, spiders have always haunted mortals' imaginations. The film Arachnophobia produced some of the most vicious chimerical spiders in recent memory.
  Chimerical spiders have been recorded and seen for nearly as long as fae have been on Earth, and are perhaps some of the most unfriendly of the chimerical beasts. Their poisons range from the debilitating to the lethal (the chimerical spiders related to the deadly funnel-web spider of Australia produce venom that kills childlings within seconds). Chimerical spider-silk is comparable in strength to ballistic nylon. The strange shiver that occasionally afflicts some people or the sudden sensation of an insect crawling over a person's skin has been attributed to chimerical spiders.
  Chimerical spiders are usually black and at least three times the size of normal spiders. The really nightmarish ones are the size of horses, and can sever limbs with their chelicerae. Their eight eyes shine in dim light. They are terrifyingly swift — think how fast most spiders can scuttle, then multiply that by the speed with which nightmare creatures seem endowed. Damage means little to chimerical spiders, depending on the specimen. Some have been dispatched with as little as hairspray; others need to be flamed and hacked to pieces before they will stay dead. Like their smaller cousins, they are blood-drinkers — but being bigger, they need bigger prey, and everyone knows fae blood tastes best. They have survived hacked-off legs, stabbing and even the occasional fireball. Good luck killing one of these bastards.
  Chimera Point Cost: 40
  Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 5, Stamina 5, Perception 4, Intelligence 2, Wits 5
  Glamour: 8, Willpower: 3
  Health Levels: OK, OK, -1, -1, -2, -2, -5, -5
  Attack: Bite/4 dice
  Talents: Alertness 3, Athletics 3, Brawl 3, Climb 5, Dodge 4
  Redes: Ensnare, Venom

Monsters

  This is the name given to chimerical beasts that do not fit into any of the other categories.
  The Black Dog
  Once a regional phenomenon confined solely to the Lake District of England, the Black Dog occupies a strange place among chimera. Part nightmare, technically monster and largely nervosa, this hound patrols roads by night, watching for travelers. It dislikes men and will cause accidents or stalk quietly beside trespassers, unnerving them completely. On the other hand, it has a great concern for women and children, especially if they are traveling alone; it will trot beside them as a guardian or even carry them if they are injured or tired. It keeps mostly to rural areas with few street lamps, perhaps because such environs are more like the roads it remembers in the Lake Country.
  The Black Dog, also called Black Shuck or Trash Hound (old form — Gytrash), always appears as a large, shaggy, coal-black dog about the size of an English sheepdog, with large teeth and eyes that glow like burning embers. When in a friendly mood, it licks and frolics with children as happily as any dog.
  Chimera Points: 50
  Attributes: Strength 4, Dexterity 4, Stamina 4, Perception 3, Intelligence 2, Wits 4
  Glamour: 7, Willpower: 8
  Health Levels: OK, -1, -1, -2, -2, -5
  Attack: Bite/5 dice or Claw/5 dice
  Talents: Alertness 3, Athletics 4, Brawl 5, Dodge 4, Track 5
  Redes: Fear

Sprites

  These chimera are born of fancy and delight. They are usually playful and at the worst mischievous.
  Nevers
  "Nevers" is a shortened form of these sprites' more scholarly name of "Neverlanders." While some changelings find it ridiculous, those who first saw these faeries at the end of the Victorian Era noticed that they corresponded marvelously with the "fairies" of Sir James Barrie's Peter Pan. They had wings, gave off a glow like a firefly, and their voices sounded like tiny bells chiming until the listener grew used to their speech (which was perfectly intelligent English, often with a British accent).
  Males emit a blue glow and frequently have blue-tinged skin; females emit a soft mauve-pink light and have rosy skin. Those Nevers who emit white light are just "little sillies" who don't know which sex they are and perhaps have none. The famed "pixie dust" of the story seems to shed from their skin like dead cells from a larger creature; the extent of its magical properties is still under debate.
  Nevers thrive heavily on belief; the terrible words "I don't believe in fairies" can literally scare them to death, even in a freehold. A child clapping her hands to keep a Never alive is merely focusing her own belief into a tangible form, but a few cynics think it's applause for a well-done death scene. These sprites have a special love for children and are most attracted to childlings and those wilders who haven't quite grown up. Many actively disdain grumps because they're "grown-ups."
  Chimera Point Cost: 35
  Attributes: Strength 1, Dexterity 5, Stamina 1, Charisma 3, Manipulation 2, Appearance 5, Perception 1, Intelligence 2, Wits 1
  Glamour: 10, Willpower: 3
  Health Levels: OK, -1, -2, -5
  Attack: None
  Abilities: Alertness 3, Athletics 4, Dodge 5
  Redes: Enchantment

Autumn People

  Unconscious servants of Banality, the Autumn People are the quintessential party-poopers. They are the sticks-in-the-mud who do not believe in anything magical or special. They are very rational, thoughtful and exact in their dress and speech. Kithain can spot an Autumn Person right away.
  There are really two kinds of Autumn People: aggressive ones and spineless ones. Spineless ones are lesser threats, although they raise the local Banality in their vicinity and encourage others to become spineless Autumn People. These people are couch potatoes, video-game junkies and anyone else who gambles, drinks or is otherwise harmfully addicted to something.
  The aggressive kind are the censors, the monitors, the mindless authoritarians who hate dreams and the Dreaming instinctively. An aggressive Autumn Person is the worst kind of mortal, and one to be avoided. A few such Autumn People seek the destruction of the Dreaming and are often found as allies of the Dauntain (see below).
  Character Creation: Attributes 6/4/2, Abilities 10/6/2, Willpower 3, Banality 9
  Suggested Attributes: Assume ratings of 2 in all Attributes.
  Suggested Abilities: Brawl 1, Drive 2

The Dauntain

  These are changelings who, unable to handle the "reality" of the fae, fled to the safety of Banality. Their perceptions twisted by their own fears, they are among the active forces of Banality and attempt to hunt down any changelings they can find.
  There are two basic types: those who know what they are facing and those who do not. Oddly, the second type is the more dangerous because their lack of belief causes Banality to be extremely strong within them. The others believe in what they are facing, thus decreasing their resistance to changeling cantrips. However, they are knowledgeable of changeling weaknesses and often carry iron weapons.
  The second group is spearheaded by psychiatrist Dr. Anton Stark. Several years ago, worried parents brought their daughter to him for evaluation. It seemed that she was living in a very complex fantasy world in which magic, elves, unicorns and other creatures of faerie were very real to her. After several session with the girl, Stark decided to use extreme aversion therapy, electro-shock therapy and several varieties of drugs as the treatment to shock her mind back to reality, where it belonged. Within two years he reported complete success: the girl had lost touch with her fantasy world and could live in the "normal" day-to-day world.
  Over the next several years Stark discovered a few dozen more cases like his first patient. In all cases, onset of symptoms was rather abrupt, often leaving the victims in a state of shock as they adjusted to the fraudulent information their brains were giving them. His book, titled Chimera: Living Within Our Dreams, detailed the treatments of these patients based on the information "given" by them. The book gained attention among colleagues of his profession, and they begin identifying others who were suffering from this very same problem.
  Now, Stark lectures at schools, universities and to community groups in hope of helping them identify this disorder before it renders its victims unfit for human society. Some groups have protested the extreme measures used to eliminate the disorder, but none can deny the treatment's success rate.
  It should be noted that most of these doctors do not believe in the supernatural, and all are infused with an incredible amount of Banality. Some have been known to cause trods to wilt simply by passing through. High King David has decreed that these people are not to be directly approached, as the power of their Banality could destroy changelings. However, any changelings captured by them are to be rescued, if at all possible, before they are lost forever to Banality.
  The first group of Dauntain is more dangerous in that its members believe in the existence of changelings, but believe them to be evil creatures who devour the force of human creativity for their own dark magics. Most of these are either survivors of a Ravaging, or someone close to them was destroyed by such. They are quite aware of the dangers such beings pose to humanity. A few of these latter Dauntain sometimes even develop a small facility with Kenning, as their belief enhances the intrinsic Glamour existing within them.
  They use news stories to find changelings. They look for signs of Ravaging (such as a crowd riot at a soccer game in England) and move in on the area armed with cold iron weapons, searching for the changelings responsible for the attacks. While they do not always find those responsible, they are very skilled at digging up the nearest changelings in the immediate area and "destroying" their menace.
  Such Dauntain are vulnerable to changeling magic, for they believe in it and are therefore less strongly influenced by Banality. In fact, some of these have surprisingly strong Glamour ratings.
  On occasion, Dauntain form into small cooperative teams. These teams are extremely deadly when they locate changelings. A recently formed team is organized by Alex Hayward, a survivor of a Ravaging after an Exquisite Agony concert. The team's members, who had been the opening band for the concert, were attacked by several Ravagers as they returned to their dressing rooms. The band survived, but were somewhat changed by the experience. They researched the subject, looked for similar occurrences and deduced the nature of their enemy. They have already subjected a changeling to death by iron, and have seen evidence of changeling abilities. While this has tempered their enthusiasm a bit, they still act without mercy or apology when they find one.

Scientist

  Character Creation: Attributes 6/4/2, Abilities 10/6/2, Backgrounds 5, Banality 10, Willpower 5
  Suggested Attributes: Assume Attributes of 2 in all ratings, except for Mental Attributes, which should be 3 or even 4.
  Suggested Abilities: Computer 2, Intimidation 1, Investigation 1, Linguistics 2, Medicine 3, Science 3

Exterminator

  Character Creation: Attributes 7/5/3, Abilities 13/9/5, Backgrounds 7, Glamour 2, Banality 9, Willpower 7, Arts 5, Realms 5
  Suggested Attributes: Physical and Mental Attributes of 3, Social Attributes of 2.
  Suggested Abilities: Alertness 3, Brawl 1, Dodge 2, Kenning 1, Firearms 2, Investigation 2, Lore 2, Melee 2, Stealth 2

The Prodigals

  Changelings believe that there are a number of lost faerie races who have forgotten that they are fae. These lost races are collectively known as the Prodigals.

Magi

  In the earliest days, the Tuatha de Danaan and all their kind moved like sunlight on the land. They held their bright Dreams aloft in slender fingers and carried them to dank caves where the mortals huddled, plagued with nightmares. From their light, the Tuatha nourished human folk, inspiring them to dream newer, brighter visions.
  But they were not the only ones who Dreamed so.
  It is said that Neul the Blue discovered the siblings in a clearing. One night, a star fell from high above and crashed into a grove. Neul traced its fall with wonder. When he went to see the ruin, Neul found four youths — two girls, two boys — whose eyes shimmered in the twilight. Unlike the drab mortals Neul had met before, these weavers crafted Dreams from waking thought. As they did so, the land around them changed. The very air glimmered where they stood, and it crackled with potent Glamour. Aroused yet terrified, Neul ran to fetch his cousins. Intrigued, they returned with him in multitudes.
  "Who are you!" Neul demanded. "We have never seen your kind before. Are you like us, like mortals, or like some other thing?"
  One sister spoke: "We are the Prime, the offspring of the flame."
  Her sister spoke: "We are the Earth, the children of the clouds."
  One brother spoke: "We are the Craft, the shapers of the world."
  His brother spoke: "We are the End and the Beginning. We are all."
  "Nonsense," replied Queen Rhayne, the leader of the horde. But the others hesitated. There was truth in what the children said. "Prove what you say," trie foolish queen continued, "or we will take you back to the caves where you belong."
  The children only laughed. "You call yourselves the givers of dreams," said the first sister. "We will Dream for you, then, Dreams of our own creation. We shall see who sends whom to the caves, proud one, and who passes on wonder to our folk."
  So saying, the first child Dreamed like fire. Her eyes glowed like Samhain embers, and she spoke in nonsense tones. At her laughing cry, the air became a furnace. The Tuatha burned at its touch, and they fled the child. Safely away, they called her Te the Mad.
  The second child's voice was light, and her Dreams were winds. Like a breeze she spoke, and the air grew clear; like a hurricane she roared, and the wind swept the faeries away. Her words carried comfort, joy and wrath. Those who heard them said, "Tempt not her anger," and they named her Li the Shadow.
  The third child's Dreams were stone. His words grated like pebbles on slate, and they weighed so heavily that the air became mud and the mud became a prison. Some Tuatha stood too near the child, and he wrapped them screaming in dark stone prisons. Try as they might, no one could free the captives; in time, they expired and joined the stone. "He is anathema," the survivors cried, and they called him Ihenn the Ironmaker.
  The fourth child's Dreams bubbled up from the sundered ground. The sky wept as he capered and spit. His eyes were dark, savage waters, like whirlpools or mad tides. His voice was sweet poisoned water, delightful to taste but deadly to swallow. He beckoned some fae on a merry dance, then turned on them like a griffin and split their bones to slivers. "He is a wonder," said the shadow-kith. "He is a demon," said their bright cousins. They all decided he was both, and named him Chla the Unbound.
  Queen Rhayne turned to stone beneath the ground. Neul the Blue burned at the Mad One's touch. The surviving Tuatha gathered far from the clearing and discussed the children for many long nights. Finally it was decided that the siblings should be left alone. The Tuatha would seek them out when the time seemed right, but until then, the children would be left to blaze their own paths.
  In time, the siblings grew, mated and had children of their own. Some faeries courted these magickal offspring, drinking their Glamour like fine wine; others fled their sight, and still others sought revenge. Bargains were struck, alliances entered and bitter enmities cast. The temperamental siblings bred temperamental offspring, and each soon warred against the others. As the Silver Age became Bronze, and the Bronze Age became Iron, the Awakened Dreamers took their cousins by the hands and led them from the caves. The mortals cast our dreams aside, and the children of the fallen star wove their own spells on the land. Ages later, their gifts have different shapes but still rework the world.
  Behold them, for they Dream in an Awakened state; befriend them, for even the dullest of their kind breathe Glamour like the air; beware them, for that Glamour is potent enough to destroy the highest faerie king. These are the children of the fallen star. Dance in their footsteps, but stay clear of their sight.
  As the tale of the four siblings reveals, the fae understand three very important things about the Awakened Ones called "mages" or "magi": First, that they're skilled Dreamers, with talents much like changeling Arts, but far more powerful. Second, that they epitomize the four elements of creation — change (fire, or Marauders), stasis (stone, or Technocrats), decay (water, or Nephandi) and balance (air, or the Traditions, Crafts and solitaires). And third, that they're compelling yet dangerous companions.
  The ties between mages and the fae go back to the beginning of time. No other Prodigal shares such ties to the mystic night. Faeries and sorcerers have been allies, enemies, cousins and lovers, but never have they been strangers. Although the mages proudly call themselves "Awakened," the faeries know the truth: Wizards walk through life in a precious dream-state, Awake to life's possibilities but Dreaming well enough to create new realities. The best of them are founts of Glamour; the worst, tar pits of Banality. These shifting creatures fascinate the fae, and the attraction seems to be mutual. Mages and changelings are fellow travelers on the same road. When they meet, a party — or a war — is the usual result.

Powers and Weaknesses

  • Mages command raw reality. Some call the lightning from the heavens, others carry it in guns over their shoulders. As half-lidded Dreamers, mages perceive reality in ways only a changeling could appreciate. An inexperienced magus is already more attuned to the world than any banal mortal could hope to be. By the time she achieves some degree of skill and control, she may reshape the elements, kill or heal with words, transform into a variety of shapes, or perform a million other miracles.
  • Even so, mages are fragile things. Without the proper magicks, a wizard ages, sickens and dies as easily as any mortal. While other Prodigals rip doors off hinges or shrug off gunfire, the Awakened Ones lie low, using their Arts in strong but subtle ways.
  • Just as Banality poisons faerie Arts, a stricter form of unbelief — Paradox — straitjackets the magi. Long ago, the tales claim, sorcerers could do whatever they wished. After the Shattering, the old talents came harder, and many wizards died trying to use them. Thus, modern magi keep their magick hidden, disguised as technology or passed off as tricks and coincidences. Changelings do not carry this Paradox around like mortals do, but even a lone magus must be careful. The days of the flying carpet, sadly, are long past.
  • Whatever form it takes, magick (also called "the Art" by mages with of mystick bent) is fluid and malleable. Most wizards channel their talents through ritual tools or wild gadgets, but some realize that the true power lies within themselves. A Storyteller may simulate Awakened magicks by granting a sorcerer a large handful of Arts, Realms and Glamour, creating a pile of cantrips which suit her approach to life and magick. A bad roll or failure creates some disaster, especially if the magick was somehow "vulgar," or beyond modern belief.
  • The "formal" rules for magi and their powers can be found in Mage: The Ascension.

Banality, Belief and the Shape of the Art

  Mages work their Dreamcraft according to their philosophies. The shape of their spells, the Glamour of their acts, and the power — or lack — of their Banality flow from the beliefs and practices of the Awakened Ones.
  • Marauders are insane even by faerie definitions, and sweep everything in their paths along for the ride. A Mad One's magicks are as wild and unpredictable as a pooka on angel dust; bright Glamour whirls about her like a thunderstorm, and her Banality is low to nonexistent.
  • Mysticks remember the old ways. While relations haven't always been cordial between the fae and mage societies, the witches and magicians of the Mythic Age accept changelings as close cousins. A mystick wizard is half-enchanted already — her Banality is low, her Glamour rich, and her magicks true Arts in the most wonderful sense.
  • True believers supposedly draw their powers from demons or gods; these spells serve some greater purpose and usually involve blessings or curses, elemental mastery and some kind of punishment. Dedicated as he is, a true believer dismisses the existence of the fae, or considers them agents of some (un)holy power. Although the mage might stir up some tasty Glamour, that power often carries a strong sense of the wizard's purpose.
  • Modern cynics are products of a dreamless age. Although they understand the wonders of science or mysticism, most of them are too "grown up" to believe in faeries. Their Arts take the forms of modern archetypes — computers, weird gadgets and strange machines — or "classical" magical tools — Tarot cards, incantations, crystal balls, etc. A cynic might open his eyes some day; if he does, his Glamour will be as refreshing as an icy stream. Until then, that stream is sluggish, dull and sad.
  • Technocrats believe that magick comes through advanced science — cybernetics, blast guns, computers and other high-tech toys. These sorcerers are deeply banal and extremely dangerous. Few Technocrats believe in changelings; those who do want them wiped from the Earth. There is some Glamour to be had from a Technocrat, but to draw it in is to ride lightning: a furious burst of white-hot energy boils into a deep and lasting burn — the pain of pure Banality.

Young Mage

  "It is a beautiful necklace, is it not? A visitor made it for me some time ago — a young wanderer-witch with a craftsman's eyes and an artist's hands. Feel that sparkle? The Glamour of her efforts lingers even now. I miss her, and I wish her well.
  "She came here in the spring, wreathed in birds and small animals. Her eyes glowed with faint green mists. Her feet were bare like a child's, but her arms betrayed an adult's muscles, supple and well-formed. New to our kind, she spoke shyly, but her artistry was plain to see. The necklace I wear is testament to her gifts; she bore similar masterworks on her throat, arms and ankles. Our lady took the traveler in (for the girl needed shelter from some enemy), and gave her a room other own. Though she tried not to stare, our lady stood transfixed by the choker on the witch's neck. The witch, no stranger to politesse, offered our lady six fine ornaments, each made to suit the host, in return for our freehold's generosity.
  "How could we refuse?
  "For a month, she stayed. Our lady was pleased with the witch's gifts, and the wilders lingered by her door, intoxicated by the Glamour that seemed to seep from the very wood itself. I took her as a lover — or should I say, she took me — and our dance was saffron and flame. Her temper was equally hot, alas, and we quarreled like childlings until at last she fled. I ventured to her room that night to beg forgiveness for my latest insult. Her tools and this necklace were all I found. No one saw the young witch leave, and no one I know has seen her since.
  "It is a magnificent tear I wear at my throat. A tear for the witch who made chill gold glow warm. Here, touch it. You see? Even now, it sings of magick, of the Arts.
  "No mortal heart could stir me so. No mortal heart but hers."
  — Suleman, eshu grump
  Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 4, Stamina 3, Perception 4, Intelligence 3, Wits 4, Charisma 3, Manipulation 2, Appearance 3
  Abilities: Alertness 2, Athletics 3, Brawl 2, Crafts 4, Dodge 2, Empathy 3, Enigmas 3, Etiquette 2, Expression 3, Kenning 2, Lore 1, Medicine 2, Melee 1, Occult 5, Performance 2, Streetwise 2, Stealth 4, Survival 2
  Glamour: 15
  Willpower: 5
  Powers: Legerdemain 3, Primal 4, Soothsay 2
  Equipment: Light clothing, backpack, jewelry materials and tools, concealed knife, herbs and powders

Technocratic Badass

  "Holy shit! Did you see that? He blew down half the goddamned wall! If I wasn't quicker than a flea on crack, I'd be history!
  "I didn't think they could do that! I thought that they had some freaky sort of rules or something that said that they couldn't just whip it out and blow shit up! He's a goddamned Banality magnet, too! Damn! Holy damn! I'm stayin' away from those monsters from now on! Get outta my way!!!"
  — Bandy Lexenfors, terrified pooka wilder
  Attributes: Strength 5, Dexterity 4, Stamina 6, Perception 4, Intelligence 2, Wits 3, Charisma 2, Manipulation 4, Appearance 2
  Abilities: Alertness 3, Athletics 4, Brawl 4, Computer 3, Dodge 3, Drive 4, Empathy 2, Enigmas 3, Etiquette 2, Firearms 5, Intimidation 5, Investigation 4, Law 3, Linguistics 4, Medicine 2, Melee 5, Occult 4, Politics 3, Science 3, Security 4, Stealth 3, Streetwise 2, Subterfuge 4, Survival 2
  Glamour: 30
  Willpower: 9
  Powers: Chicanery 5, Legerdemain 4, Primal 4, Sovereign 4, Wayfare 3
  Equipment: Dark glasses (with infrared settings), black clothing, trenchcoat, heavy automatic pistol, communication link, badge, body armor (value 4), paranormal activity scanner, very big gun

Vampires

  Once upon a time, in the long, long ago, lived a mighty fae, an Unseelie of the redcap of the redcap kith. Now this redcap did battle with a puissant sidhe knight in the great wars that reddened the world's dawning. Back and forth the redcap and the knight fought, neither able to gain the measure of the other. As the day lengthened, and the duel grew more heated, soldiers from both sides stopped their fighting to witness the warriors' prowess. But as the afternoon's shadows lengthened to evening, the duelists' enmity was overshadowed by respect, and finally both threw down their arms and embraced the other. And after that day, so close they became that Seelie and Unseelie alike called them brothers. And brothers they became in truth, for the knight and the redcap mingled the blood each had spilled in the battle and swore a great oath of brotherhood to the Dreaming itself.
  Now it came to pass that the lands were menaced by a frightful dragon. Across the lands the High King issued a call for heroes to vanquish the beast. The knight and the redcap set out to meet the challenge, and soon they came upon the dragon's minions, a terrible field of man-eating flowers grown from seeds of Nightmare. The redcap and the knight hacked their way through the evil jungle, but it seemed to the redcap as though his brother hung back ever so slightly, leaving the redcap to suffer the sting of the creatures' fangs.
  Soon enough they came to the dragon's lair, and called the beast to battle. It rushed upon them with a whir of wing and a roar of flame, and the doughty warriors found themselves hard put upon. The knight stumbled upon a stone, and the dragon whipped its neck about and, opening wide its maw, prepared to bite the knight in twain. At this, the redcap charged forward, bedeviling the beast with a flurry of blows. As the dragon turned, the knight rose and, gripping his blade tight, hacked the head from the monster.
  So the beast was dead, and the knight and the redcap went before the High King, bearing trophies. The redcap went before the High King, presenting the remains of the dragon's flower-demons, and the High King smiled thinly. "Well done," quoth the High King. And other words of praise were spoken, but coldly, and it seemed to the redcap as though the King's favor was but little.
  Then the knight came forward, bearing the head of the dragon, and laid it before the High King, to the delight of the court. And quoth he, "My liege, for thee and thee alone did I smite off this marauder's head." And no mention was made of the redcap's valor. And the High King spread wide his arms, and bestowed upon the knight half of all his lands, and other favors besides.
  And so the redcap's rage rose in him like a great storm, and gripping his brother s head, he bit it from his body in the manner of the dragon. And at this act, the renunciation of the oath the brothers had sworn, the very Dreaming roiled and flashed with terrible lightning.
  The redcap was sore afraid, and he cried out to the High King and the Dreaming, calling witness to his brother's crime and the injustice of the sacrifice. But in breaking the oath of blood, the redcap had committed a sin a hundredfold greater. And the Dreaming cursed the redcap thus: Nevermore would he know the splendor of the Dreaming. The light of the High King's court would ever be poison to his eyes. Only the lands of death would he know — death and red, red blood. Blood was his crime, blood was his legacy, and so blood would be the root of his power. And all who sprang from the redcap would bear the seed of his crime, until the end of days.
  Whatever the truth of the old changeling tale, vampires walk the earth to this night. Bearing the curse of their "father," Caine, these ancient beings stalk the cities of mortals, feeding on their blood. They know little of changelings, but are not averse to drinking changeling blood if the opportunity presents itself.

Powers and Weaknesses

  • Vampires live until slain; having "died" once and been returned to life through the blood of their vampire creator (sire), they do not age. Vampire become more cunning and powerful with age; "elder" vampires, who have lived for centuries, are a match for the mightiest changelings.
  • Though vampires can be driven into unconsciousness (torpor) by mortal weapons, only sunlight, fire or total dismemberment can permanently destroy them.
  • Most vampires have moderate Banality ratings, though Unseelie are often intoxicated by the dark auras of these fellow denizens of the night. Some Unseelie even claim that vampires do not exude Banality, but rather surround themselves with a sinister and exotic Glamour all their own. The truth is unknown.
  • Vampires have no Glamour as changelings know it, but they steal their power from a darker source: human (or changeling) blood. Vampires have a Blood Pool, which is identical to a Glamour Pool, but recharged by human blood (one pint equals one point; most human-sized beings have 10 Blood Points. If more than half are taken from the body, the victim will probably die.)
  • Vampires are burned by sunlight; each turn spent in sunlight inflicts an automatic point of aggravated damage.
  • See Vampire: The Masquerade for more information.

Neonates (Recently Created Vampires)

  "I remember the first time I saw her. It was at the Waydown, and I was standing there, soaking Glamour from all the angst-kids' florid little pirouettes. When I saw her, though, I forgot all about the music, the ambience, everything. She flitted from shadow to shadow, and it seemed like everyone was getting out of her way, even though no one was looking at her Which was impossible, because she was so beautiful.
  "She had this long dress of crushed red velvet, just the right shade to match her lipstick. Skin so white it was iridescent, almost like a pearl gleaming with an inner phosphorescence. And the eyes — like pits into a private and very appealing hell.
  "I saw her several more nights after that. I don't know what she did, but she always seemed intent on some errand or other. And she would look at me, not a flirty look, but a conspiratorial one, like she knew. Knew me, what I was doing, and most importantly knew how... different we were from the rest of the sots.
  "One night, she came in with a bunch other friends. And though I'd never seen any of these guys before, I knew they were like her. Everybody was paying attention now — that I remember. All the people just kind of shrank away, like mice when an owl crosses the moon. She wasn't wearing clubgear, just a black jacket and pants. And emotion was just washing over everything like an oscillating tsunami. I felt the people's terror, and the newcomers' smiles conjured a dream or nightmare all their own that... well, I can imagine the same primitive, carnal dreams coming from a sleeping T. Rex. She beckoned, and I remember... I threw back my head and just let the nightmare come up from my loins and out my throat.
  "We walked out into the streets, and I knew the ancient majesty of the Wild Hunt that night. I don't know who he was, the victim — just a random passerby, I guess. We ran him down like a stag under the Horned One's hunting pack, and as they fell on him and sucked the life from his twitching body, Glamour shot up my spine like ebony lightning.
  "Then they looked at me, their smiles bloody gashes across their faces. I decided to run. They didn't chase, but I still think I did the right thing.
  "Haven't been back to the club since. It was a rush, all right, but their fun's a little lethal for casual consumption. Maybe next month, though...."
  - Kevin Connaught, Unseelie wilder

Neonate Vampire

  Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 4, Perception 3, Intelligence 2, Wits 4, Charisma 3, Manipulation 4, Appearance 3
  Abilities: Alertness 2, Athletics 1, Brawl 2, Dodge 1, Etiquette 1, Expression 1, Intimidation 2, Melee 1, Occult 1, Stealth 2, Streetwise 2, Subterfuge 2
  Blood (Glamour) Pool: 10
  Willpower: 5
  Powers: Chicanery 2, Soothsay 2, Sovereign 2
  Equipment: Fashionable clothing, concealed weapon

Elders

  "Don't go near the old Gromley House. It's that creepy, gross place at the end of Dead Man's Drive — the one where all the windows are taped up with this black goopy tape, and all the shingles are falling down.
  "I've seen Old Gromley come out at night. His face is white like a ghost, and wherever he goes it's like a big black cloud of... of yuckiness comes out of him. His eyes glow in the dark, like they're burning. I hid my eyes, 'cause I was afraid he'd look at me.
  "He wears this black suit that looks old and crusty, and he gets in this big black car that this lady drives for him. She looks sad, and kind of scared. I'll bet Gromley must pay her a lot of money to work for him.
  "Billy said he went up to the Gromley House in the daytime. He said he threw an egg at the door, and this mean man came running out, screaming at him. He said the man didn't have any hands, just a big knife like you use to cut meat. Billy's such a liar.
  "Is it true that Gromley's a Dracula? Billy said he'd grab me with those spider-fingers and suck out all my blood. I told him he was a big fat liar, but I was scared. Well, a little scared. Well, I wasn't really scared. I'm not afraid of old Gromley the Grinch! I'd go over to his house and kick his coffin, 'cept that the sun's almost down and it's time for me to go home."
  — Tommy, childling boggan

Elder Vampire

  Attributes: Strength 6 (yes, 6), Dexterity 3, Stamina 5, Perception 4, Intelligence 4, Wits 5, Charisma 1, Manipulation 5, Appearance 4
  Abilities: Alertness 3, Athletics 1, Brawl 2, Dodge 3, Enigmas 2, Etiquette 3, Expression 1, Intimidation 4, Melee 2, Occult 4, Stealth 3, Streetwise 1, Subterfuge 4
  Blood (Glamour) Pool: 20
  Willpower: 9
  Powers: Chicanery 5, Soothsay 4, Sovereign 5
  Equipment: Outdated clothing, pocket watch, sword cane

Werewolves

  A long time ago, when the lands were still green and sweet from shore to shore, the fae enjoyed the luxuries of many forms, of shifting from animal to plant to human as whim suited them. Eventually, as the Dreaming grew stronger, most of the fae chose one form or another, and each settled into the shape he or she had chosen. Only a few, those closest to the land itself, refused to give up the freedom of form, and even these eventually chose animals that suited them best. Then there were wolf-changers and swan-maidens and seal-folk that frolicked in the wild places, and the world mirrored their joy.
  But as in all such stories, the peace was not to last. A great and terribly hungry evil arose, seeking to devour all the lands and all the folk, mortal or fae. None were able to look at this evil's face full on — those who had seen its tattered, shroudlike fringes named it only the Dark. The Dark boiled at the edges of the lands, and it ravenously chewed on the horizon, trying to swallow all of creation.
  A great council was called by the High Lords, to draw up strategies against the Dark. But when the debates ran long, many of the animal-shifters grew impatient and angry, and they left the council. With the Prince of Wolves at their head, they ran to the horizon and threw themselves into battle with the Dark, before any could tell them nay. And to their credit, they beat back the Dark and held it there — but at a terrible price. For to gain their victory, they forgot all dreams other than dreams of battle everlasting. They passed from the blood of the fae, and became Prodigals, doomed to fight their wars against the fomorians and the Darklings until the end of all things.
  However true the tale of the Prodigals may be, it's certainly truth that the werecreatures are out there. Although some pooka tell tales of forgotten cousins with raven, cat, bear or snake blood, the most famous of all the werelings are the werewolves. These creatures are indeed locked into an endless war with the fomorians and other fell beings, but they have not forgotten the fae entirely. Some still come to the aid of their long-lost kin; indeed, some even still bear the name of the Fianna, the matchless warriors of Fionn MacCumhail.

Powers and Weaknesses

  • Werewolves can take the forms of humans and wolves, as well as some forms that combine the traits of both. Most terrifying of all is their "wolfman" battle form: a wolf-headed, nine-foot-tall killing machine that inspires a supernatural terror in humans. In this form, all their Physical Attributes are doubled, but they cannot use Social Attributes in connection with creatures other than werewolves and wild beasts (save to intimidate or terrify, of course).
  • Werewolves can attack several times each turn, often taking two to six actions in a single turn.
  • Werecreatures heal incredibly fast, regenerating a Health Level each turn. Only fire, silver, or the teeth and claws of other supernatural creatures (such as the fomorians) can permanently injure a werewolf — and a werewolf can even heal these wounds as a normal human could.
  • Although they don't possess Glamour as such, werewolves can fuel their supernatural powers with Gnosis, a measure of their innate spiritual energy. They regain Gnosis through long meditation or from bargaining with spirits. As creatures of change and the wilderness, they are traditionally lower in Banality than most people.
  • Werewolves can enter the spirit world and travel to strange spirit realms. It's rumored that some of their elders can even travel to Arcadia, although this has never been proven.
  • Silver is indeed the bane of werecreatures, although wolfsbane does little good against them. They cannot soak damage from silver weapons, and cannot regenerate such wounds as quickly as they normally can.
  • See Werewolf: The Apocalypse for more information.

The Young Packs

  "Why am I in such a temper? Why don't I like St. Paddy's Day, what with me being so Gaelocentric and all? Damn, I've been asked that question more than once. Well, fine — if it'll shut you up, here's the tale.
  "Started three years back, at a ceili, of course. Not in a place I'd been to before, and I didn't know anybody there, but I've always been the sort that's willing to meet new people. I'd had some Guiness by way of early celebration, and I planned to do quite a bit more drinking before the night was through. Truth, I planned to do a bit more than drink, and I'd figured there'd be some comely lasses at the dance who'd be coerced into a bit of fun easily enough.
  "Well, there were lasses aplenty, but not one of them compared to the vision that strolled into the circle long about 10. I swear, I hadn't seen beauty like that even on the faces of the noblest sidhe princesses, and I was completely taken. She was something else, I tell you — the finest vision of the most gifted Dreamers, and those gemstone eyes were moving among the crowd to pick out a partner. Oh, please, lady, pick me! I wanted to shout, but I couldn't say a word. Wherever she glided, the dancers stopped dancing to stare better. Finally, her gaze settled on a burly redhead, she smiled just a touch — damn, my heart burned so green, I could have killed to be the one she favored! — and she moved out to take his hand.
  "That's when it happened.
  "The girl next to him swelled up into this huge, terrible creature — 12 feet tall if she was an inch! — reached out with ivory talons and tore the skin from that lovely woman's face. The skull underneath was running with green ichor, I swear it! And this thing — this green-bloodied, faceless thing hissed at the two of them and bolted from the circle, into the surrounding woods. The wolf-woman bounded after her on all fours, and in just a second or two, her red-haired bravo became another russet-furred werewolf, this time 15 feet tall, and leapt after the two.
  "I don't need to tell you that the ceili was spoiled. People were running every which way, shrieking like a choir of banshees, even curling up into little balls. It was a full five minutes before the normals had collected themselves, and most of them drove home right away muttering about 'wild dog attacks' or something. I swear, they all saw what happened, so it wasn't the Dreaming — but nobody seemed to really see it but me. And damn me, I'll never forget.
  "Right. That's my story. Now leave the bottle — I intend to celebrate the rest of this misbegotten anniversary in my own fashion. Cheers."
  — Oisin Kennally, satyr wilder

Young Werewolf

  Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 3, Stamina 3, Charisma 2, Manipulation 2, Appearance 3, Perception 4, Intelligence 2, Wits 3
  Abilities: Alertness 3, Athletics 3, Brawl 3, Crafts 1, Dodge 2, Enigmas 1, Intimidation 2, Investigation 1, Lore 2, Melee 1, Occult 1, Performance 1, Stealth 2, Survival 2
  Gnosis (Glamour): 5
  Willpower: 5
  Powers: Chicanery 1, Primal 2, Wayfare 2
  Equipment: Practical clothing

The Elders

  "I've always been a hiker, and I've always liked the wild places. If it weren't for the last places of green leaves and blue water, I swear this city'd have choked the last bits of Glamour right out of me. You know how it is — trying to sift through the hordes of apathetic, workaday losers to catch that one bright spot of dream. Well, the parks are where I go to forget all the hubbub and brouhaha, and I've even been able to bring a few Dreamers to Reverie out there, just by pointing out how great it is out there.
  "You remember a while back, when that Hale-Bopp comet was hanging in the sky? I'd convinced a, well, mundane friend of mine to come with me to the top of a bald to see it. It was quite a hike to get there, and we were barely able to set up camp before it was dark out. Wasn't much — just a couple of sleeping bags and a small fire. Then we stretched out and waited for the comet to rise.
  "Well, the comet rose, sure enough, but once it crested that row of pines, we heard this long, rising howl, just like a wolf or some such. It scared Leena at first — hell, even I reached for ol' Warsickle, just in case — but then we got to listening. I swear, the howl sounded almost like someone singing, some bittersweet tribute that just about had me weeping like a childling. Next thing I know, there's a chorus of howls, all sounding like the heralds of Winter itself. Finally, they all broke off, save that one old, strong, sad voice, which went on a little longer. When even that howl stopped, Leena was misty-eyed and holding on to me, and I didn't have a thing to say to her.
  "Whatever was out there, I'm not quite sure. I think I have some idea, but I haven't made that trip again since, at least not at night. Not yet."
  — Peter the Hessian, troll grump

Elder Werewolf

  Attributes: Strength 4, Dexterity 4, Stamina 5, Charisma 3, Manipulation 3, Appearance 3, Perception 5, Intelligence 4, Wits 5
  Abilities: Alertness 3, Athletics 1, Brawl 3, Dodge 3, Enigmas 3, Etiquette 2, Firearms 1, Intimidation 4, Investigation 3, Leadership 4, Linguistics 1, Lore 4, Melee 3, Occult 4, Performance 3, Stealth 3, Streetwise 2, Subterfuge 4, Survival 5
  Gnosis (Glamour): 9
  Willpower: 8
  Powers: Chicanery 3, Primal 5, Soothsay 3, Wayfare 4
  Equipment: Backpack, silver dagger, enchanted elk-tooth necklace

Wraiths

  Listen closely, my dears, and I shall tell you of the Restless Dead. I've heard you telling ghost stories, each to each, and giggling with the fright of them. Do you know why you could giggle? Because the stories you were telling weren't true. I know the real ghost stories, little ones. I know the tales that will freeze the flesh from your bones and stop your heart like a cheap watch. And now, my childlings, I'm going to share those stories with you — because the Dead don't take kindly to being laughed at.
  Now the first thing to know is that they are not as we are. Sure, the vampires and others are just Prodigals, but the dead folk, well, they're different. No magic to them, just sorrow — the memories of who they were in life, and they never were our kind, despite what the stories say. I suppose the best way to think of them is as chimera, but chimera who made themselves. They're souls remembering what they used to be, and they get all kinds of annoyed if you point out that they've missed any details.
  The next pertinent bit is a bit trickier. You see, wraiths are in this world but not of it — they have the cheap seats at the other end of reality. For the most part, ghosts are stuck in a whole chimerical reality called the Shadowiands — but these are the ugliest chimera you've ever seen. Everything looks like it's falling apart, and not in the lived-in and loved way our things do. No, everything in the Shadowlands is frozen in a moment of decay. Fortunately, we can't see over there most of the time, but wraiths can peer through the curtain between worlds at the real show — us. The curtain, by the way, is called the Shroud. We can see wraiths moving on the other side of it (well, at least we sluagh can. You nocker babies, well, I guess you won't see the ghosties creeping up on you until it's too late....). There are supposed to be other worlds that they wander through, called the Tempest and Stygia and the Labyrinth and whatnot, but that all sounds like a lot of pooka-talk to me.
  I've asked a few wraiths why they don't leave the Shadowlands for more amenable circumstances, but they say they can't — once they finish laughing. Apparently these other places aren't qiuite as nice as the Shadowlands, which leads me to all sorts of terrible images. Besides, there are things that tie a wraith to the real world — a favorite person or something they loved — and ghosts don't want to get too far from those. If something bad happens to one of these Fetters (as they're called), then something Very Bad happens to the wraith. So, what this means for us is that if you want to be friends with a wraith, you might want to collect and protect her Fetters. On the other hand, if a wraith is bothering you, well, let's just say that the dead aren't very fond of the word, "Oops."
  Not everyone becomes a ghost, you know. The vast majority of dead people don't have the imagination to recreate themselves as ghosts. They just wander off to wherever it is that boring dead people go. It's only the ones who have a little extra oomph to their personalities that become ghosts, which can make them fascinating partners for discussion.
  On the other hand, they just might have a bit too much oomph. Each ghost has a personal dark side called the Shadow, and you never know when that worse half will come out to play. Mind you, it's very difficult to tell when the Shadow's taken over. Sometimes you can spot the signs, but not always — and then it's usually too late.
  You scoff at the notion of being afraid of ghosts? Little girl, where have you been? Ghosts can be terrifying, even without having the Shadow in charge. You've heard the stories. Walls dripping blood, objects flying through the air (knives are particular favorites), someone else taking control of your body — oh, yes, indeedy, wraiths can certainly do all of that and more.
  But they can do worse. They can sing the Glamour right out of you, if they feel like it. They can tell your future and make it happen the way they cast it. Worst of all, they can harvest your dreams.
  That's right, there are ghosts out there who drink the dream right out of you. They're called Sandmen, and once one sinks his claws into you, he'll never let go until you're drained dry. Ever have one of those mornings where you just don't want to get out of bed, and you can't remember your name unless it's written on the bathroom mirror? That's a sign a Sandman's been at you.
  Then again, if you can get a Sandman to be your friend, you've got it made. Think about it — you get to go make dreams! It's hard to get started on that type of friendship, though. It's one of those "You-got-your-chocolate-in-my-peanut-butter/You-swiped-the-creativity-that-fuels-my-existence" sort of things.

Powers

  • Wraiths, with rare exceptions, are completely invisible and intangible. Only sluagh, and sometimes eshu, can see wraiths, and unless the wraith chooses to materialize in the real world (an arduous task), the ghost cannot be touched physically. On the other hand, any contact or reasonable force with the area where a wraith is "standing" gives the wraith a single level of damage and disrupts the ghost's physical state for a number of turns equal to the wraith's Stamina rating. During this time, no further physical damage can be done to the wraith (except by another ghost). Ghosts willing to risk this level of injury can walk through doors, walls and other physical objects.
  • A ghost's vision is sharper than a mortal's. Wraiths have the ability to see the auras of the living (which, incidentally, lets them pick changelings out of a crowd). Furthermore, their senses have been sharpened to a preternatural degree by death; a ghost can pick the numbers off a speeding car's license plate or read the signature on a Louisville Slugger in use.
  • Ghosts called Chanteurs have the ability to sing raw emotion into a changeling, which can sometimes be turned into Glamour. They do this by means of a power called Keening; many changelings mistake Chanteurs for banshees.
  • Wraiths known as Sandmen have the ability to harvest creativity, to alter dreams and even to take sleeping souls with them into full-fledged dream pageantry. A changeling who is targeted by a Sandman must roll Willpower (difficulty 8) or lose a point of Glamour for every night of the wraith's attention. On the other hand, a wraith dabbling in a changeling's dream must roll Willpower (difficulty 6) or get sucked into the dream as a permanent denizen.
  • The ghosts who go by the name of Usurers can drain — or restore — Glamour with a touch. As one might expect, this leads to all sorts of complications.
  • Wraiths feed on raw emotion. Usually, positive emotions fuel the wraith's personality, while strong negative feelings give strength to the wraith's dark side, or Shadow. Being creatures of passion (literally!) and memory, wraiths have very little Banality to them. In fact, the popular belief in ghosts and "haunted places" often makes the world more hospitable to changelings than it might have been otherwise.
  • Some wraiths, called Risen, can actually repossess their bodies, climb up out of the grave and start walking around. Risen are very rare and extremely dangerous, but they do exist in the physical world.
  • Wraiths are tied to objects in the real world called Fetters. If these items are connected or destroyed, the impact on the wraith is enormous (and extremely bad). Wraiths go to any lengths to protect their Fetters. Egged on by their Shadows, desperate ghosts may even resort to violence — or worse.
  • Wraiths who have been consumed by their Shadows are called Spectres. Some of these are indistinguishable from normal ghosts, others are patently creatures of evil.
  • See Wraith: The Oblivion for more information.

Lemures

  "I don't go down to the Hanging Gardens anymore. The crawlers do once in a while, but I don't. Why? Because of all the ghosts down there.
  "I mean, you figure a casino's going to be all sorts of fun for one of our kind. Bright lights, loud music, tacky costumes, people having fun, and if the music's any good, you just might find some Glamour sticking to the underside of the tables. Besides, it's the Hanging Gardens, you know — I mean, it's supposed to have flowers and stuff. Pretty things.
  "But it's a scary place, and it's rotten with ghosts. I mean, if you listen real close you can hear them whisper, and there's dozens of them whispering all of the time. Out on the amusment pier it's even weirder.
  "I was out there the other night, just sitting on the edge of the pier and watching all the jellyfish glowing blue in the water when I noticed this girl sitting next to me. She was pretty and sad, with her hair all done up in a scarf and all sorts of silver jewelry. I hadn't heard her coming, but I figured that was because I'd been too wrapped up in what I was doing.
  "Anyway, we started talking. She said her name was Helene, and that she used to read Tarot cards for a living. I asked her what she did for a living now, and she just laughed. Then she told me that she worked at the Hanging Gardens, mostly at the tables.
  "We ended up talking for hours, about music and magic and all sorts of things. I asked her to read my palm, but she said she didn't need to see my hand to tell me that I was going to have a brush with death. She seemed sad about it, too, but she seemed sad all the time.
  "Anyway, we talked and talked until the sun started to come up, and she said that she had to go. I tried to kiss her goodbye, but when I leaned forward, I fell right through where she'd been and into the water. She'd vanished.
  "And as I splashed around and tried not to drown, I could hear the other ghosts. Laughing."
  - Devin Rasmussen, Seelie satyr wilder
  Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, Stamina 5, Charisma 2, Manipulation 3, Appearance 3, Perception 3, Intelligence 3, Wits 2
  Abilities: Alertness 2, Enigmas 3, Etiquette 2, Intimidation 2, Investigation 2, Leadership 2, Linguistics 1, Occult 2, Performance 3, Stealth 3, Streetwise 2, Subterfuge 2
  Pathos (Glamour): 6
  Willpower: 5
  Powers: Chicanery 3, Wayfare 4

The Long Dead

  "Old Ambrose is mean for a dead man. Old Man Johnson yells at us for playing on his lawn, and Mrs. Cleet the librarian gets mad when we make too much noise, but Old Ambrose is just mean. He's all scary-looking, with seaweed hanging off him and the seawater dripping and him leaving these wet footprints behind. Even worse, you can hear him before you see him coming — it's always squeech squeech squeech with his wet boots on the floor. And there's the smell, all dead fish and seaweed. And that's the times when you can see him. The rest of the time he's invisible, and that's worse 'cause you never know where he is or when he's gonna sneak up on you. He knows where you are, though.
  "The thing is, Ambrose doesn't like us coming around to his house. He gets very protective of it, and he's liable to run off whoever trespasses. He puts up with the tours the college sends through, I don't know why, but he hates trespassers. It used to be a game for me and Elspeth. You know, sneak in, run around, soak up the super-scariness of the haunted house, and then try to run out before Old Ambrose or one of his kids or grandkids caught us. (He's got a whole family of ghosts in there. I'd hate that, being stuck with Mom and Dad forever and ever.) But I think he got tired of the game. One night, he followed Elspeth home and got into her dreams. He put something in there, and now she can't get it out so she wakes up screaming every night. Her parents are scared enough that they're going to send her away to a place where she can rest, which has the Duke in an uproar. He's mad at me for ever bringing Elspeth into the house in the first place, and he told me I'm never ever allowed to go back there.
  "Suits me just fine."
  — Randall, Seelie sidhe childling
  Attributes: Strength 3, Dexterity 3, Stamina 5, Charisma 3, Manipulation 4, Appearance 3, Perception 4, Intelligence 4, Wits 5
  Abilities: Alertness 3, Brawl 3, Dodge 3, Enigmas 4, Etiquette 2, Intimidation 4, Investigation 3, Leadership 4, Linguistics 3, Lore 2, Melee 3, Occult 4, Stealth 4, Streetwise 2, Subterfuge 4
  Pathos (Glamour): 9
  Willpower: 8
  Powers: Chicanery 3, Ledgerdemain 4, Soothsay 3, Wayfare 4
  Note: Certain wraiths, called Gaunts, have resolved their Fetters and can move freely between the layers of the Underworld. These ghosts are almost uniformly extremely powerful, and are masters of multiple wraithly powers (called Arcanoi). Changelings are unlikely to run into a Gaunt unless they are in so far over their heads that a bathyscape would have trouble finding them.

Afterword

  Wow! It's finally finished. I've been looking forward to this project for quite some time, and now that it is nearing completion, I am left with mixed emotions. Part of me is sad that the process of creating the second edition is over (in many ways the creation of the second edition was more exciting that the first). But another part of me is happy. The hard part is finally out of the way, and I can get back to the business of expanding the world of the fae.
  The book you hold in your hands is much closer to Changeling as I had envisioned it when we originally set about creating the game. Though much remains the same, many things are changed. The most notable change is the elimination of the card system for casting cantrips. As anyone who has spoken with me in the past two years can attest, I have always felt that the card system hampered players rather than helping (not to mention being very confusing). In many ways the cards stifled players' creativity rather than inspiring it. Many of the changes in the second edition came about because of areas in the setting and rules that I felt needed to be expanded or better explained. Concepts introduced in other sourcebooks have been brought together here, and many of the new systems have been created with compatibility with the other Storyteller games in mind. Calling upon the Wyrd in particular allows changelings to step out of their own world and into others.
  Yet as any veteran player of Changeling knows, this game isn't about rules but about dreams — the dreams we all have of waking up one day to find ourselves or our lives somehow changed. Everyone dreams of change, whether it is the desire for a new car, a new job, a different appearance or the ability to cast magical spells. We all dream, and it is these dreams that drive us to go on day after day, forever questing for them. In a sense, this is what Changeling is all about. It is about the continual quest in the name of a dream, whether for a magical homeland and the answers to every question ever asked, or for the chance to put on another face and take up another life, if only for a few hours.
  In the end I hope that all those who pick up this game find a little of that drive and have fun with it. Tell a few stories, have a few adventures, and have a good time. After all, Changeling is a game, and games should be fun!
  Keep Dreaming,
  Ian Lemke