Lost Pages and Cunning Men

I recently received the latest offerings hot off the press over at Lost Pages, and they are as marvellous as ever. I've been carrying Wonder & Wickedness (by one Mr. Strejcek) around like a toddler with a blanket ever since it arrived. Now, I could review it, OR I could rip it off in an act of the most sincere  flattery. Yea, I think I'll do that.

(as seen in longer form in The Undercroft #3)
THE CUNNING MEN OF THE FERN COURT

Folk tales are the leavings of an irrational mind, a black pearl formed around an ill-sitting grain of truth. It is passed around the fire, each hand polishing it more so they can better see the fear on their own faces. But the grain remains and some are not so distracted by the black mirror, intent on staring deeper.

Their arrival wasn't planned. First one, then another, drawn by dreams of a dark sun rising above the primordial canopy of the Fern Court. They didn't know what it was or what would happen when it rose, but they were compelled to find answers. The forest speaks to those with an ear for it, but it talks in omen and subtle metaphor, a growing knot that the cunning can unravel. And they were cunning. They, the kindly ones, the painted folk, the cunning men.

The Fern Court is old, the woods are deep, thick and storied. The villages found there hide behind palisades choked with rose vines, closing their ears to the scratching at the door. The homesteads and charcoal burners are far and wary, the pathways to their homes littered with charms and fetishes against the night. The people on its borders share stories of children being taken from their beds to dance under its boughs.

Indeed, those who call the forest home are isolated, paranoid and prone to eccentricity, but it is not the realm of death one is lead to believe. Merchants cross it, lords claim it, and the very story tellers decrying it lived to learn and continue their tellings.

The forest men  have long memories, and the cunning men loom large in them. A monolith of stability, as permanent and old as the forest, a coming and going as regular and inevitable as the seasons, roaming where their calloused feet take them. The woodsmen might not question the attention of so many magical practitioners but the cunning men do. Each of them was drawn to this place, haunted by dreams and omens until they found themselves beneath its rancorous branches. Now they spend their energies trying to understand why, what brought them here and what the black sun means.

Within the small and quiet world of the woodsmen the tattooed face of the cunning man is a good omen. They rove from settlement to settlement swapping news in exchange for food and shelter, sitting by hearths and hearing what news they have in turn, seeing their sick and blessing their children, and as the nights go on his questions will come. He will ask about the owls and the milk, about the patterns in the frost. Have they seen Baldanders? Did the sparrowhawk fly east at dawn? Did it return by night?

They will answer and he will leave, satisfied but burdened.

Their covenant is both newer and more organised than it would at first seem. Though they travel widely they always return to the seasonal moot to unload their weighted minds. Unusual amongst practitioners of the cunning arts, they share knowledge freely. Every scrap and clue is kept in the hopes of leading to answers, every detail tattooed on their flesh. Volumes are inscribed in their private script, in streaks and swirls the letters abound. In there is everything that they must know, both magical and mundane, it will be preserved and never stolen like other tradition's books of spells so easily lost or destroyed. They stand before their peers, sky clad, and allow an inspection of the season's happenings.

When one of their number dies they take great pains to retrieve and prepare them for one final moot. Their skin is dried and stretched, displayed on a rack for all to come and learn from before it is destroyed utterly.

Cunning Man illustration in issue #3 by Matthew Adams

Spells

1.
Babble

The caster whispers unintelligibly while staring intently at his target. While the muttering continues the fellow will be unable to get their words out, spluttering and becoming confused. Additionally the caster may force the target to say one thing, one single sentence.

This trick can be performed with subtlety, where onlookers would only see the caster muttering like one whose mind had withered roots.

2.
Spleenful led

The caster must have in their possession a fragment of the target: a strand of hair, seminal fluid, toenail, blood and such. With this, they must bind it in mud or clay and throw it as far as they can, out of sight. The target must save vs. magic or from then until the next morning be unable to find their way.

For that period they cannot reliably find their way anywhere without someone leading them forcefully. They will take wrong turns, leave the trail and generally wander aimlessly.

3.
Protection from rain

The caster is immune to the effects of turbulent weather. No rain nor hail will touch him, lightning will dance around him, the wind will die at his tread. But only him, mind. The elements have no strong feelings for his companions.

4.
Read entrails

The creature being used for this spell must be slaughtered especially for this purpose. Creatures stumbled upon or killed for utilitarian purposes are not suitable. For each HD of sacrifice the cunning man may find a vague detail of the answer to one question in the entrails. Hair colour, mannerisms, times, smells, directions, all delivered in as obscure a manner as possible.

5.
Pick up sticks

Some signs are not so subtle as to require a mind awash with magic; the woodsmen mistrust the owls and know to shutter their windows on the new moon. With the knowledge of how the forest connects meanings the caster throws a pocket full of twigs, bones, furs and feathers in the air. Those viewing must save vs. magic or fall to the ground obsessively picking up the assorted debris. Can effect 2HD of sentient targets per caster level.

6.
Zoanthropy

The cunning man must take off his clothes and arrange them neatly and deliberately in a hidden place. Naked, they must walk into the wilderness and with each step lose their mind and body until eventually taking the form of an animal. They may choose what animal to be, but it must be appropriate for the environment and they must try their hardest to imitate the creature or else the trees will notice and the spell will end.

While in animal form they cannot be found through magical means. They may maintain this form for as long as they like, but must save vs. magic every new moon or else lose their minds to the beast and stay that way forever. To return to their old ways they must find their clothes, whereupon they will be reformed.

Many cunning folk have lost their mind through the divine sublimation of the zoanthrope. They still search the forests for Old Father Aldous, whose skin was almost black with writing, who they say glimpsed the horizon of the black sun before he retreated into quietude. At every hamlet and homestead they always ask after sightings of the black hare.

7.
Brittle Twigs & Bird Song

The caster takes a dry twig and snaps it across his knee in full view of his foe. They must save vs. magic or take 1d8 damage and suffer the effects of a broken appendage (caster’s choice).

8.
Path of Guilt

The caster makes a poultice of thorns, rags and soil, with this they scrub the soles of the feet until they bleed freely (1d4 damage). While the blood flows they count as having 6 in 6 stealth and the evidence of their passing is invisible to the mundane eye. Once the bleeding stops the spell wears off and the bloody footprints appear for all to see.







Catastrophes

1. The sorcerer is always covered in moss and small insects. They scutter in and out of his clothes and beard. If he was to sit still for long enough he would eventually look like a rotten tree trunk.
   
   1 in 6 chance a rare and highly toxic hallucinatory mushroom grows in his armpit. He eats them constantly.
   
2. A flash of insight into the meaning of things! The sorcerer must immediately go to a certain place and do a certain thing. This thing will be seemingly mundane and meaningless, such as placing a sandal half way up a certain mountain, or standing under a certain waterfall while reciting the Strictures of Merrywell. If the party do not join him at the next free moment he will disappear on his own for 2d6 weeks and do it himself. 1 in 6 chance he never comes back.
   
3. The sorcerer is overwhelmed by implied meaning and endless connections. Before him is a vast conspiracy between the squirrels and the daffodils, they hide their nuts in the pattern of the constellation of the Bull and only remove his eye on Wednesdays, the oak leaves fall but spin only counter clockwise... They are paralysed with the truth and can only be forcibly lead around for 1d4 days. They may memorise twice the normal spells during this period, since the sideways logic comes more naturally.
    
4. For one random fellow close to this catastrophe the veil of lies is ripped and the black sun replaces our own. It will bleed, thick puss dripping down the sky. The trees will buckle, the walls will fester and boil and they will fall to their knees as their sanity leaves them in a boiling puddle of filth.
   
   Save vs. magic or die. If it dies, then the caster must save vs. magic or die as he sees the light in the burst flesh bag that got caught up in this mess. If he dies then everyone within sight of him must save or die. Closing your eyes won’t help, you won’t need eyes when the dark sun rises.
   
5. The cunning man learns that his life is linked to another in the vast web. This can be an object or place. His health and theirs is linked from this day on. Think like a Dryad and their tree, but potentially with a weasel, blueberry bush or toothbrush.
   
6. Caster loses their mind. Believe themselves to be an animal or tree. This lasts for 1d6 days, reroll 6's and add it to the total. Players may control the PC as long as they play along convincingly. Spellcasting ability is lost.
   
7. Rose vines burst out of the cunning man in a huge plasmic sneeze. Everyone within 20 metres of him must save vs. device or be impaled by the foliage for 1d6 damage. The plants are ferocious weeds and will continue to grow. Very pretty, but in a few weeks everything will be covered in spikey rose vines. The cunning man is unharmed, but must disentangle himself from the vines now growing out of him.
   
8. The cunning eye sees the purest empyreal fire, suffusing the darkness with a light so far from the prosaic rays that struggle through the canopy as to be an insult to name it as such. That beauty is seen by few but holds an indescribable fascination for those that have. A feeling beyond words or any other tawdry attempts at communication. It can only be shown.
   
   The caster will emanate light with no fixed point of origin while babbling incoherently. Anyone viewing the light must save vs. magic or grow uncontrollably as the light fills them. They will spontaneously sprout new limbs, their flesh will flow like a flood and they will grow exponentially until the light fades. Their flesh will remain forever malleable and readily absorb more. From here on they are considered horrifying monsters by all, and are very likely blind, deaf, and insane (2 in 3 chance of each).
   
   If you know to do so and are prepared, looking away will avoid this unpleasant fate. However, anyone caught in the area of an individual glutting on emyreal light will be absorbed into the target, dealing 1d10 damage per turn as they are melted into their loving embrace. If they are cut free they will suffer d6 permanent damage from missing flesh and skin.
   
9. The caster mutters constantly, with occasional outbursts. It resembles Tourettes, but instead of obscenities he blurts out cutting truths.
   
10. The recipient of this curse is dragged under the earth by thick roots, whereupon he is stored in a small encystment. He will not starve and cannot escape through normal means, though he can be dug up. Those recovering his encystment will find a sack of flesh, inside of which the poor fellow will be held.
    
    After a time a tree grows on the spot, the fruit of which will fall and split into animals of some local variety. They will speak of the trapped individual, but only to the young and the lonely. After 2d6 years the tree will split like a lily to reveal the sorcerous sufferer, naked and new.
    
11. The sorcerer casts off his clothes and equipment. His takes a sharp stick and ash and inscribes his magical knowledge into his flesh. This takes 1 day per level, during which he will refuse to be disturbed. He will never again wear clothes or bags of anything else that separates him from an intimate connection with the world. Can memorise 2 extra spells.
    
12. The cunning man can talk with animals and plants. However, they all talk like the Cheshire cat and bad lsd dreams. Constantly.

Latter Kairnlaw (revised and expanded)

The Kairns came to the Kairnlaw in two major waves of migration separated by an interval of about four hundred years. It was the northwest corner of the continent that received both influxes, for east of the Ikon Mountains luxuriant grasslands stretch practically unbroken for three hundred leagues to the coast. This gently rolling land, thickly braided with rivers, is the realm called Prior Kairnlaw. It is superlative grazing land. The Kairns who held it first were loath to share it with their late-coming cousins, and indeed, did not do so, for their cousins—more numerous and hungrier than they—drove them out of it, and into the western plateaus, the colder, rockier, more arid half of the continent known today as Latter Kairnlaw.

Kine Gather lies in Latter Kairnlaw not far from the Bone Axe Mountains, a northern branching of the Ikons. Like its sister-cities of this area—White Lick, Crossgulch, Bailey’s Yards—it grew from a cattle market on a river, a rough-and-ready sort of place where stock could be auctioned and shipped by enterprising men unwilling to endure tedious inquiries into their herds’ provenance or prior ownership. And, again like their neighbours, Kine Gather’s citizens retain even in the moderate prosperity they currently enjoy all the predilections of their city’s founders: raiding, cattle-rustling, passionate quarrels over boundaries, and blood-feuds.

Most Latter-Kairns share these traits, and this is understandable. Their sparse-grown, harsh-wintered terrain compels their herdsmen to arduous seasonal pilgrimages to keep their animals in pasture. Only the hostility of that land to any other economy—combined with what might be called a very stubborn cultural spirit—keeps them at their historic trade. And yet, for all their pains, they can expect to raise only maculate hornbow and dwarf-ox with any success, while in Prior Kairnlaw both these breeds thrive and four others besides: palomino hornbow, crucicorn, plodd and jabóbo (of which last, more presently). If scarcity alone had not made cattle thieves of the Latter-Kairns, their enduringly bitter sense of dispossession would have done it. Inevitably they have robbed one another, but they have always preferred the richer plunder and the prestige among their fellows to be won by raiding their homeland’s usurpers.

Nift the Lean

The Greater and Lesser Kairnlaws may claim to have many differences, but religion is not one of them. A pragmatic people, they always know what God to speak to for every eventuality. They're not so arrogant to assume that any one being can solve all their problems, so much so that even converts to Vorn or Qadhi will be sure to stay on good terms with the local Gods. It would be a very brave citizen of the Kairnlaw  who would go on a journey without a quick word to The Bartlet, or visit his mistress without an offering to Judith.

Holy men of the Kairnlaw are bottomless fonts of knowledge regarding who to appeal to at any specific time. They are one of the few people who are equally welcome in Greater and Lesser, respected for their deep knowledge and god-given skills.

Gods of the Kairnlaw

To gain the ability to meaningfully interact with the Kairnic pantheon one must demonstrate intimate knowledge of their vast family. Every time the player creates a fully realised god for the pantheon they have a 50% chance of gaining the right to ask one favour per day. To use said favour they must complete the appropriate invocation.

Loose these powers if on water (temporary), since the gods avert their eyes.

Our Lady Judith, Sister in Sin, patron of cheating husbands.

Many a man has offered up a prayer to her while creeping out a forbidden paramour's window. However her attention is fickle and she is prone to allowing them to be caught by enraged husbands and vengeful wives. In polite circles a wayward husband is said to be "visiting Aunt Judith"

Invocation: Burn a small amount of your pubic hair. One strand would do.

Gift: Those who have talked to Judith can lie utterly believably to women, getting them to believe the most ridiculous things. However 1 in 6 times it will be an embarrassingly awful lie and get you immediately caught out.

The Bartlet, patron of sore feet and wasted journeys.

No one is quite sure why The Bartlet is named so but they continue to put up a prayer to them whenever they set out their door. The Bartlet is typically pictured as an anthropomorphic cat with a permanent look of disappointment, sitting by the roadside. These images are almost exclusively found in remote roadside inns.

Invocation: Throwing a shoe over your left shoulder while offering up a prayer.

Gift: Ensure an unpleasant journey on a chosen party, unwanted pursuers perhaps. This help is oblique: sore feet slowing them down ever so slightly, taking a marginally longer route. 1 in 6 chance it helps enough to make a difference.

Darrow, god of fish suppers.

Fish for breakfast, 
fish for tea,
fish for you and
fish for me! 

A variation on the rhyme is heard on the way home from the harbour, sung with no great gusto. Children sick of the fish they've been gutting all season often don't appreciate the gift that Darrow and their mothers have waiting for them at home.

Invocation: Singing or humming Darrows rhyme while preparing your fishy supper.

Gift: Can prepare even the most foul and rotten fish, turning it into a barely tolerable meal.

The Turnsmith, God of shoe repair and thresholds.

Nemesis of The Bartlet, The Turnsmith is often depicted quietly fixing shoes just inside the door of his house or chasing cats out of his workshop. In Kairnish society cats are considered to be lazy and pessimistic, traits which can rub off wherever they sleep. Cats almost exclusively live outside in Kairnish society, and are most certainly not allowed to sleep where people work.

Many small industries operate from the home. These are advertised by performing the trade by the open door to your house. Thus The Turnsmith is often associated with cottage industry.

Invocation: Leaving a small amount of leftover material from the repair by someone's front door at the earliest possible opportunity. Not doing so will see your work undone.

Gift: Can perform small repairs on mundane items and always seems to have a needle and thread handy.

Lusta-Fi, god of goatherds and lazy boys.

The Kairnlaw has innumerable gods dedicated to every possible aspect of livestock care. Understandable for a people who derive the vast majority of their food and wealth from their panoply of domesticated creatures.

Lusta-Fi looks after the young ones, who are traditionally set to watching the goats, the least important and most annoying of herds. While they sleep or play, Lusta-Fi is said to be keeping an eye on the herd. You'll often hear parents chiding their boys for letting Lusta-Fi watch the goats, that they told them not to listen to him.

Invocation: Build a small pile of rocks, a few inches high or more, on top of a small denomination coin or sweet treat. Then paint a pair of eyes on it facing what you want watched. The offering will be gone when you return, and the eyes will be closed.

Gift: They can leave one mundane situation per day and it'll be fine while they attend to other things. The situation must be low stakes (such as watching a herd, a small child, or a boiling kettle) and not require great intervention to be okay. He would not prevent the goats being stolen, but he could prevent them from walking off a cliff.

The Augot, god of drowning, broken fishing lines and loneliness.

No gods hold sway over the oceon, if one believes the Kairn. Indeed, they do not rule but some live there, such as Augot, spurned lover of Judith. Once he was the god of brotherly love but that all changed when She chased him into the sea. Now he may not break the surface out of fear of Judith getting her hands on him.

The gods are known for their narrow sight which may account for The Augot's new portfolio. Desperately lonely, this god of fraternal love drags fishermen to their deaths in a desperate bid to find company.

Invocation: You must speak into a body of salt water for no less than ten minutes in a friendly manner (a large bowl will do). Keep it light.

Gift: Though the gods lose sight of you over water The Augot can still pull you down. If he is placated before a sea voyage you may ignore the first mishap that afflicts you.

Vockachella, goddess of hunger and children

"I'm so hungry I could eat my husband!" you'll hear the herdswives exclaim as they sit down to another slim meal. The story of Vockachella is a reminder for all good husbands to provide their families with the milk and meat of the herd and to treat them with a gentle hand.

Violent or lackadaisical herdsmen will often find their lives unravelling, piece by piece.  

Invocation: Spit milk in the target's face (this is a dire insult in Kairn society)

Gift: For each favour the gods owe you, you may cause the target to fail at an action.

Destur, god of traditions and failed hunts

The Kairn rarely hunt for food, they consider it to be beneath them. The civilised man has his meat quietly sitting in his grasslands waiting to be eaten. However hunting is still required when a white ape tribe descends from the mountains, or a panther wanders too far from the shade of the Fern Court. 

Destur would disagree with this. His remit is of consistency and cultural bureaucracy. In his eyes everything is judged by how it relates to proper Kairn values, and hunting is not one of them. To spare you from the shame of eating filthy wild creatures he ensures you never find them.

Invocation: Snap an arrow over your knee and with it cut the hand that will slay the beast

Gift: Once Destur is tricked into believing the hunt has already failed you are free to pursue your quarry without interference. The hunter whos hand was cut may reroll one bushcraft test per caster's level.

The Immensity of Lotus Blossoms

The Undercroft #2 is finished! More or less. All that stands between it the printer is a couple of minor bits. What a to do, what a to do.

I must say, bi-monthly is looking more and more feasible. Stay tuned. Or don't, I'm just a blog post not your mum. Anyway, have some content:

The Yellow Lands

The Immensity of Sky

Climb to the top of Mt. Yatenga, the Sky Tower, without help or tools. You must climb without food or supplies, with your bare hands and feet until you reach the perfectly flat, barren top. Here you must lay down and commune with the Immensity of Sky, nowhere else are you so close to its Vastness. Each day of laying there you have a cumulative 1% chance of gaining favour. If you eat or drink the chance will reset. Every morning there is a 1 in 6 chance enough dew forms on you to count as drinking for that day (does not reset the chance of favour).

An nganga at work

1. Qadhi gives and takes away, though he has no urgency. Cure Light Wounds once per day per wisdom modifier. Each additional time this is rolled upgrade it to Serious through Critical and finally Heal.
2. Everything on A'ard's face is merely a few steps away. The nganga walks out of sight around a corner and appears elsewhere as Word of Recall, once per day.
3. The walking dead are anathema under this Immense Sky: you may Turn Undead once per day per wisdom bonus. You may do it at will while the Roof of the World is above your heads, forcing the dead to look up and see infinity awaiting them.
4. No sorcerer can lay his evil eye upon you. Witchlamp Aura once per day per wisdom bonus.
5. The Eye of the Sun burns fiercely in The People. Bless once per day per wisdom bonus.
6. After communing with the Old Leech mortals are simple creatures by comparison. Suggestion once per day per charisma bonus.
7. The Sky covers the world, not only at the peak of Yatenga. Contact Outer Sphere once per week per wisdom bonus.
8. You understand the subtle interactions of the gods and can influence their flow. Control Weather once per week per wisdom bonus.
9. You can cast out evil spirits with authority. Dispel Magic - Dispel Evil once per day per wisdom bonus.
10. We are all Children of the Sun. Speak with Animals once per day per charisma bonus.
11. Qadhi can be entreated to loosen his grip. Speak With Dead once per day per charisma bonus.
12. An Nganga speaks with knowledge of the gods and understands the deep magic, no blade may touch him. Protection from normal weapons once per day per wisdom bonus.

Llamalackelkloulothllimptishavakothvoutxikliklalpvanipvan, The Devourer

Albinos are sacred and pegged for greatness

Eating the laklishi lotus bulb is an act of holy communion directly with the spirit of the great swamp. They are, however, incredibly toxic. Save vs. posion or take 1d10xd10 damage and cannot talk for d3 months and will need help walking for a week as you have suffered what resembles a stroke- though the swamp people insist it is merely the response of a weak mind in the presence of the Devourer. +3 to your save if you are an albino. If you are successful, roll on the table below.

An alternative and altogether more risky path to enlightenment is through eating demonic flesh. The denizens of the sub-worlds can meet a final death in the belly of the Devourer. To do this one must eat the majority of the creatures, including its head and heart or nearest approximation of both. Once ingested, the diner must spiritually "wrestle" the dinee, using wisdom bonuses instead of strength. If the shaman wins, they may roll on the table (and may shift 1 point up or down per demon HD, the Devourer especially enjoys this), if the demon wins they will possess their body. The demon can then shift back to its original form or that of the priest at will. The cleric is of course dead.



1-5 - You spontaneously Commune with The Devourer with no possibility of upsetting it. The experience is immensely pleasing and produces a profound feeling of connectedness.

6 - In a world where Dutch courage isn't a thing, laklishi courage is. Cast Heroism on yourself once per day per constitution modifier.

7 - If you can quieten the blood pounding in your ears you can hear the rich undercurrent of voices. Ability to cast Augury once per day per wisdom modifier.

8 - The most holy of acts, the consumption of sentient beings, perfected into an act of singular connection. Ability to cast Last Meal once per day per wisdom modifier.

9 - The great swamp is full of dangers. You may suck out poison from others or sweat out poison in your own system thanks to a prodigious resistance to toxic effects. Works as Delay Poison once per day per constitution modifier and requires you to physically suck it or sweat it out. If this result is rolled again, the effect becomes Neutralise Poison.

10 - When they say it's just the laklishi talking you turn and tell them "I am the laklishi". Your bodily fluids will cause Feeblemindedness if consumed by others. Approximately a teaspoon will do.

11 - It takes a force of will, and you must squint just so, but you are used to mind altering situations and can Detect Illusion once per day per constitution modifier.

12 - You have seen the logic that lies beneath and can explain it if only they will listen. You may inflict Forget once per day per wisdom bonus. You must both touch and talk to them to do this.

A beautiful laklishi blossom

Some contend that The Devourer isn't a god at all, merely the hallucination of a nation of drug users. So far no ambitious theologians have taken the trek into the Great Swamp to argue their points in person, but they assure us they will get around to it any day now.

Calendar of Vornheim and the Kairnlaw

The calendar observed by Vornheim and the Kairnlaw consists of 18 months of 20 days each, with 5 days left over.

The 5  "Lost Days" are considered unlucky and people do very little. Work will be cancelled, theatres will shut and battles will be re-scheduled. Foreign visitors would be shocked at how fervently the citizens of Vornheim shut themselves away and avoid eye contact or even basic acknowledgement of anyone. On these days the herds of the Kairnlaws govern themselves.

Both Vornheim and the Kairnlaw claim the origins of the calendar as their own but less politically minded scholars look to the distant Empires and note the convenient similarities.

The month is marked by a number and a symbol, ensuring even the lowliest unwashed mass keeps good time. When discussing the date they would say "1 Crow", "2 Pigs", "5 Soldiers", and so on. Each month has folk associations that can vary from place to place, superstitions and observances specific to certain people. Where there are agreed upon elements they have been noted.

The 5 Lost Days don't have names or numbers and people try their hardest to ignore them. Fortunately both peoples are painfully superstitious so they don't spend much energy questioning the reasoning behind it.

Seasons

In the tundra and steppes there's not much subtlety to their seasons. They have brief scorching summers followed by interminable autumns and a capricious winter. Spring barely registers as the winter falls like a loosed curtain. Only the herdsmen of the Kairnlaw differentiate it from Father Summer as their herds grow.


Spring

• Crown (this is depicted as a royal crown in Vornheim and a heavily pregnant cow in the Kairnlaw)
• Cottage

Summer

• Tower (a proud tower in Vornheim, it is considered in a negative and somewhat pompous light in the Kairnlaw)
• Rut
• Pig
• Soldier

Autumn

• Crow
• Moth
• Lover
• Bear
• Death's Head
• Stick
• Beast (the beast depicted is unrecognisable as anything. It has legs and arms, maybe a head. The odd thing is that everyone agrees on how it looks)
• Lunatic (Since the 476th cycle this has been a rough depiction of Lord Zyklon, the mad old Duke of Vornheim)

Winter

• Finger
• Toe
• Mountain
• Wolf (both nations agree this is an ominous month, both for its associations and as the last month before the Lost Days)

Years

Years work in cycles, batches of years of variable length (typically between 27 and 56 years long) that can tick over at any point in the appropriate year. They are measured by astrologers and other interested parties, though some suspect that they choose new cycles based on when a national holiday is needed. 

The details of the system are so awfully dull and, as is generally opined, a waste of time that very few people outside of dedicated historical societies bother to pay much attention to it. If it weren't for the holidays involved people would likely forget they existed entirely. Both the Kairnlaw and Vornheim agree that we are currently on the 478th cycle, though what they have been counting from is hotly debated amongst those with little better to do.

The Wolfmother

The Wolfmother is considered a folk tale, told to encourage the young men to marry early and bring new hands to the farm. A terrifying cautionary tale used to keep the serfs in line, as far as they town folk know. But the farmers in their homesteads know the truth of it.

Mothers are careful to pair off their children as soon as they come of age, before She appears at the virginal young men's bed sides and offers them presents. Anyone not accepting her wedding gifts will have their innocence and masculine flower rudely taken. Within two weeks the wolfmother will give birth to a clutch of wolf cubs who will hound their young father, bitter at their abandonment. They will kill his friends, steal his livestock, cause as much pain as possible, until finally their father wakes in the middle of the night to see his children at his bedside.


Some are brave or foolish enough to accept the gifts instead of immediately striping to their skin and taking to the road, calling for a wife. After three visits She will take their hand and walk them into the brambles, never to return.

D30	Wedding gift
1	A mollusc attached to a locket. Anyone approaching the wearer with sinister intent will cause it to emit a high pitched sequel until they are dispatched. Inside is a picture of the wolfmother.
2	Gloves made of whole rabbits. They don't look much like gloves but they fit wonderfully. They will run away at any loud noises, hiding in your pockets or inside the folds of your clothes, taking your hands with them. Their morale is 6. Taking them off will kill them horrifically as your hands distend their innards out their nethers.
3	A broom with a brush made of virgin's hair. Cleaning your house with it every day will ensure your past never finds you.
4	A kettle made from a goat's skull. No matter what is poured in, thick clotted blood will come out. Drinking the blood will give you visions of all the hurtful things your loved ones have said behind your back.
5	A rat in a cage. It gives good lifestyle advice, except for one time when it will give you the worst advice ever.
6	A little lost child from under her skirt. It doesn't speak any language you know and is altogether quite exotic looking.
7	A rope that leads out of your window and into the woods. It will not budge and does not end unless pulled by three stout men. On the end of the rope is a sorcerer of middling power.
8	Dirt in a jar. Any plants set in it will grow overnight and black lotus flowers will burst forth.
9	A pen made from the feather of a white peacock. It will only write sonnets fit to break the hardest heart. Readers of said poems must save vs. magic or seclude themselves away for a night and a day. A second failed save will drive them to a fit of passionate suicide as they know they can never know a love so sweet.
10	A kiss on the cheek. Her face is warm, her fur a rich pelt that gently tickles. Save vs. magic or run away with her, never to be seen again.
11	Three  mice tied together by their tails, alive and trying to run in different directions.
12	A burning bulrush. Save vs. magic or fall into a deep sleep, haunted by dreams of the wolfmother, for d3 days.
13	A hand mirror that will age you 10d10 years if you look at it beneath a clear sky.
14	A wooden button. If thrown away save vs. magic or lose all your hair and fingernails. -1 to hit until your nails grow back.
15	A walnut box. Save vs. device when opened, as inside is an adder. It sinks its teeth into your arm and withers away like a rotten fruit. Save vs. poison or die, refilling the snake like a balloon and slinking off.
16	A handsome set of underwear. While worn (she will insist you try them on) they tighten when in the presence of women other than the wolfmother, dealing d3 damage per round. They resist being torn or cut and are removable only with magical assistance.
17	A flock of seagulls tied to a staff. They will loyally follow the stick wherever it goes.
18	An old gold coin. If spent it will always make its way back to you in the most “monkey's paw” way possible.
19	A black cat that can communicate silently with whomever it pleases. He gives valuable council and has been familiar to many great women. He is here as a favour to the wolfmother and will leave is mistreated. The wolmother will hear of it.
20	A tiny misshapen human in a jar. He will need to be fed blood to live. Every time he feeds he gains d3hp and grows ever so slightly. When he has 10hp he will escape his jar and go on a killing spree.
21	A hunting horn that, when blown, will summon three armed men to you aid. They will not remember how they got there and there is no guarantee they will be predisposed to benevolence.
22	A rope. Anyone tied with it must save vs. magic or run to the nearest source of magical wrongness. Once there they must save again or lose their minds and become a drooling vegetable.
23	A rose and a song. Her singing is haunting and nothing like any you have heard before. Save vs. magic or never be able to enjoy music again.
24	A bundle of nettles tied with a yellow ribbon. If cooked into a tea a drank on the solstice in the field of your fathers, you will find a fortune buried in the roots of a old oak.
25	She slips a wooden ring on your finger. The wearer cannot remove it as it fuses with their flesh. Save vs. magic to resist future gifts.
26	A book of nonsense and diagrams of plants & animals that have never existed. If read from cover to cover you gain 1 wisdom and become chaotic.
27	A vial of perfume. It smells of fresh mushrooms and cinnamon.
28	A cradle made of chicken bones tied together with ligaments. It creaks and cracks but is very strong. A child who uses it until they outgrow it will never know fear and be bold as the dawning sun. He will die too young.
29	A tiny spyglass that takes you to where you see, as if you were there all along. Every time you use it you shrink by d3 inches.
30	A basket woven from the wolfmother's hair. Anything placed inside it will rot and tarnish within hours.