Monster Monday: Moss Folk - Tricky Tree People

Today's Monster Monday is moss folk, a race of fey forest sprites who dwell in deep, ancient woods. Moss folk can step into one tree and out another an instant later, as if by teleportation, making them difficult to track and excellent guerrilla fighters in their forest territories. Wherever they enter a tree, they leave behind a patch of fresh moss, hence their name. Well, they also look pretty mossy in general. I guess moss folk is just an apt name for them all around.

As is the case with the trees they live in, moss folk are lithe and twiggy in their youth, while with old age they become gnarled, hunched, and increasingly bark-covered. It should come as no surprise that these tree-ish fey creatures are great admirers of the mighty treants, to the point where some moss folk tribes adopt a local treant as the living embodiment of the forest they live in and worship. Some treants tolerate this attention and lend their protection to these well-meaning sprites, while others may remain oblivious to the adoration that has fallen unto them.

Moss folk, or Moosleute, are creatures of Germanic folklore, where depictions of them vary widely from place to place and story to story, sometimes beautiful, sometimes shriveled and old, sometimes dwarfish, sometimes giant. In some stories they are plague-bringers, in others  they are healers who guide humans to healing herbs. In some stories they are deathly allergic to caraway bread (don't ask me why). The picture of them left to us through the ages is as fuzzy and indistinct as an old dead tree carpeted in moss. Nevertheless, there is enough there to build on to make a pretty neat creature for your fantasy world!

The following text in gold is available as Open Game Content under the OGL. Open Game Content is ©2018 Jonah Bomgaars.

Monster Monday: Tomtenisse - Tiny Fey that Pack a Punch

Today's Monster Monday is the tomtenisse, also known as tomte, nisse, or tonttu, an apple-sized little gnome from Scandinavian folklore which acts as a guardian spirit for a plot of land. These little guys have incredible strength for their size, able to punch out a grown man, snap a cow's neck, or carry a one ton load above their head. Why would these helpful farm spirits ever punch a cow to death? Well, tomtenisse can also be pretty dang ornery.

In the Christmas Night by John Bauer (1913), via Wikimedia

Tomtenisse help out around the farm in unseen ways, mending things, tending to the animals, and carrying loads. All they want in return is a bowl of porridge with a pat of butter on it on a specific day. If they don't get their porridge, they can become enraged, breaking things and lashing out at nearby creatures to punish their lax master. The older the tomtenisse, the more particular it gets about how a farm is run, and the quicker it is to inflict corporal punishment. If a new farmer on the land starts putting his tools away in the wrong places, a young nisse might rearrange them all in the night or pile them against the farmer's bedroom door, while an older nisse might simply break every tool that is out of its place. If a farmhand urinates in the barn, they might grab a manure shovel and smack them in the back of the head. If someone eats the nisse's porridge, they will usually be found beaten to within an inch of their life.

In perhaps the most illustrative story of the tomtenisse, a farmer leaves the nisse his usual bowl of porridge, but accidentally puts the butter on the bottom of the porridge. The nisse, thinking the farmer forgot the butter, becomes so enraged that he leaps up and cracks the neck of the farmer's prized cow. He then eats the porridge and finds the pat of butter at the bottom. Remorseful, the nisse runs to all the neighboring farms until he finds an identical cow to bring back for the farmer.

The tomtenisse reserve their deadliest weapon for those who cross them severely: a nisse bite can leave its victim cursed to wither away and die.

The tomtenisse legend may come from a pre-Christian belief in ancestor spirits. The earliest tomtenisse lived in burial mounds, perhaps the spirit of the first farmer to clear and work the land. In the 14th century, Saint Birgitte of Vadstena warned people not to worship the tompta gudhi (the house-lot gods). In modern times, the tomtenisse remain popular as Christmas figures, and though tales remain of angry nisse beating people to a pulp, they are more commonly seen having seasonal fun on Christmas cards.

The following text in gold is available as Open Game Content under the OGL. Open Game Content is ©2018 Jonah Bomgaars.

Monster Monday: Poludnitsa - Lady Midday

Today's Monster Monday is the polunitsa, or Lady Midday. She is a malicious fey from Slavic mythology who appears in the heat of midday to deliver heatstroke and madness to those laboring in the fields. She tends to appear as a woman dressed in white peasant clothes and bearing a scythe, and she is usually either young and eerily beautiful or old and wizened.

Faucheuse ('Girl with a Scythe') by William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1872), via Wikimedia

There is more I could say, but I am afraid Lady Midday has struck me with heat exhaustion and left me unable to think clearly. Instead, please enjoy this sassy-looking poludnitsa:

via Wikimedia

The following text in gold is available as Open Game Content under the OGL. Open Game Content is ©2018 Jonah Bomgaars.

Monster Monday: Creniad, Nymph of Wells and Fountains

Today's Monster Monday is the creniad, a rare urban nymph of wells and fountains. Creniads are guardians of these urban water sources, granting boons to those who respect them and leveling curses against those who defile their purity.

Detail from 'Am Schönen Brunnen' by Anton Ebert, via Wikimedia

Before modern indoor plumbing, public water sources like wells and fountains were very important for city-dwellers, especially since any rivers running through a city would likely be full of human waste and the runoff of industry. Rulers of cities would commission fountains to bring clean water into the city for the public good, often beautifying them with statuary and pools. Urban wells were less dramatic but no less important for supplying clean water. Both water sources would have been features of public squares where people could gather and socialize as they collected their drinking water.

Recently I have been interested in urban environments as habitats, and how wild animals adapt to live in man-made environments. Thinking about this in the context of fantasy RPGs brought up several ideas for urban monsters (one of which was the feral hivemind). The creniad derives from the crinaeae, Greek naiads associated with wells and fountains. There are already some urban fey, mostly household spirits like brownies and domovoi, but the idea of a nymph associated with urban water sources seemed like an interesting idea worth pursuing, since those fairies are usually depicted as being part of unspoiled nature rather than man-made environments.

The resulting monster (see the stat block below) is built around protecting these urban water sources. She has a number of water-based spells and abilities, but she can also curse those who despoil her water source, bless those who make offerings or wishes at her well, and even inhabit fountain statues. When a creniad's water source becomes polluted, she becomes ill, and she might even become corrupted, gaining an altered suite of spells and abilities that turn her into an evil spirit of vengeance!

The following text in gold is available as Open Game Content under the OGL. Open Game Content is ©2018 Jonah Bomgaars.

Monster Monday: Borovoi - Slavic Forest Spirits

Today's Monster Monday Tuesday is the borovoi, a Russian forest spirit, trickster, and caller of storms. Borovoi are giant fey creatures who rule over large stretches of forest. They delight in leading travelers astray and then demanding heavy ransoms for returning them to safety. When angered, they bring down the fury of a winter storm on their enemies, and summon forth the wolves and bears of the forest to tear them to pieces.

Illustration from 1906 cover of Leshy Magazine No1, via Wikimedia

A more common name for these beings is leshy or leshii, but that name is already taken by a group of monsters in Pathfinder - tiny, adorable little plant constructs that look like topiary fanart of Sackboy from Little Big Planet. Why the name of a badass, godlike giant Slavic forest trickster was given to a bunch of little leafy dudes is beyond me (probably someone needed a name so they just looked through a thesaurus instead of doing research or making something up). These diminutive construct 'leshys' (why not 'leshies' - as English linguistics would suggest - or 'leshiye' - a transliteration of the actual Russian plural?) show up a lot in Pathfinder: Ultimate Wilderness, which reminded me that I needed to stat up proper leshies. The name 'borovoi' - one of several alternate names for the leshy - means 'man of the forest'.

The following text in gold is available as Open Game Content under the OGL. Open Game Content is ©2018 Jonah Bomgaars.

Monster Monday: Melinoe, Nymph of Madness

Adalis met his muse for the last time at midnight, at the crossroads. She was as beautiful as pure chaos, her skin shifting from black to white like the phases of the moon, now shining brightly, now dissolving into shadows. She embraced him. He felt every emotion well up in his body and then drain out of him like grain from a torn sack, a sack that she would mend and then fill with her genius. She had been there for Adalis when his songs fell on deaf ears, when he was booed out of the inn, when his beloved laughed at his heartfelt poetry. When he was invited to play for the baron, only to discover halfway through his performance that he was the butt of a terrible joke. His muse had always been there for him, ready to whisper in his ear that which he already knew. They were all fools who could never appreciate true beauty. They must learn. They must pay.

Tonight, she would teach him the song that drives men insane.

Today's Monster Monday is melinoe, a tortured nymph who spreads madness to all she encounters. The sight of her can render a stalwart adventurer into a babbling mess. Her mere glance can strip away the mind's defenses. When she sees madness in others, she nurtures it as other nymphs would care for a grove sacred spring.

from Antikes Zaubergerät aus Pergamon (Richard Wünsch, 1905), via Wikipedia

Drawing of a 3rd century AD spell-inscribed bronze tablet found at Pergamon, invoking (among others) Melinoe 

Melinoe is a rather obscure figure from Greek myth, closely associated with Hecate (goddess of crossroads and witchcraft). The real magic tablet* depicted above does not show Melinoe, but does invoke her name. A surviving Orphic hymn to Melinoe calls her "saffron-cloaked nymph of the earth" and describes her thus:

This specter drives mortals to madness with her airy apparitions
as she appears in weird shapes and strange forms,
now plain to the eye, now shadowy, now shining in the darkness—
all this in unnerving attacks in the gloom of night.

All of this, from her power over madness to her shifting form between light and shadow to her 'airy apparitions', played a role in how I statted up melinoe as a monster. Her beautiful visage drives others to madness, her ever-changing form can have an actual effect on the battlefield, and she can summon allips to her service.

*When I say real magic tablet, I mean that this is a real Greek spell-tablet inscribed with magic words, not that magic itself is real. Sorry, D&D still can't teach you the real power.

The following text in gold is available as Open Game Content under the OGL. Open Game Content is ©2017 Jonah Bomgaars.

Monster Monday: Knocker, Leprechaun of the Mines

   "Don't be too hasty to finish that there pasty," Jago's wrinkled grey face twisted into a smirk. The old-timer leaned in toward where Cadwur was eating his lunch by the light of his candle-helmet. "You'll want to save a morsel for the knockers.  Like this." He took one last bite of his own pasty and tossed the remaining corner out beyond the candlelight.

   Cadwur's stomach rumbled. He was new to mine labor, and his lunch had not filled him as it should. He eyed the last bite of his pasty eagerly. 

   "Save a morsel for the rats, more like!" Massen butted in. "You'll go hungry if you listen to this old fool's tall tales, Fresh-Face." He popped half a sweet roll in his mouth and chewed loudly. 

   "And if you showed some respect to the fey, maybe your tools would stop disappearing." Jago turned back to Cadwur. "Go on, make your offering. Unless you want to take your chances like Missing Massen over here." 

   Reluctantly, Cadwur tossed his crust out beyond the circle of light. Over the now-familiar scrabbling of rats, he thought he heard the soft slapping of tiny bare feet. But then they all heard the screaming.  

   It came from further down the mine, from the main shaft where the men of the deep shift were working.  The screaming grew more violent as more voices joined in, and it meshed with the clash of iron and rock and the distorted echoes of a deep, unearthly growl. Then came the knocking. Loud, rhythmic, insistent, coming right from the entrance to the side shaft Cadwur and his whole crew were sitting in. Everyone instinctively recoiled.  Everyone but Massen, who leapt for the entrance, yelling, "Cave in! Everyone out!" Just as he reached the entrance, a support beam cracked and struck him on the head. He collapsed like a sack of potatoes and lay there for a split second, more serene than anyone had ever seen him, before the whole ceiling fell on him. They all watched in silence until his boots stopped twitching and the dust settled.  

   The screaming had stopped, but the noise had not. Something large and clumsy, roaring like a blast furnace and stinking like a charnel house, was scraping its way up through the mine. Candles extinguished, picks and shovels clenched in white-knuckle fists, every miner behind the cave-in listened with bated breath as the beast sniffed and clawed at the pile of rubble that had sealed them in. They stayed like that for what seemed like an hour after the monster gave up and moved on, then they breathed out a collective sigh of relief.  

   Cadwur pulled his flint and steel out of a satchel on his belt and lit the candle stub on the front of his helmet. A tiny man with a long, ratty beard and a protruding nose was resting against the shaft wall, right on the edge of his candlelight, hefting an oversized hammer in one hand. He winked at Cadwur, popped a crust of pasty in his mouth, and fell backwards through the solid stone. 

   Trapped by the cave-in, they were the only miners to survive the monster's attack. They lived in the dark for four days awaiting rescue, licking moisture from the walls and eating raw rats. And every man of them left out a scrap of rat for the knocker who had saved their lives.  

Today's Monster Monday is the knocker, an impish prankster from Welsh and Cornish mythology who lives deep in the mines and makes loud noises to warn of (or cause) cave-ins.

Knockers are responsible for odd sounds and mysterious disappearances that plague deep caverns and drive miners mad. They delight in causing mischief, from extinguishing lights and stealing tools to luring lone subterranean explorers to their dooms or trapping dozens of miners with strategically placed cave-ins. Most miners and subterranean races maintain that knockers can be appeased with offerings of food and drink, and some even claim that those whom the knockers favor are blessed with enduring luck underground.

The following text in gold is available as Open Game Content under the OGL. Open Game Content is ©2017 Jonah Bomgaars.

Monster Monday: Herne, the Wild Huntsman

Sometime a keeper here in Windsor Forest,

Doth all the winter-time, at still midnight,

Walk round about an oak, with great ragg'd horns;

And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle,

And makes milch-kine yield blood, and shakes a chain

In a most hideous and dreadful manner.

You have heard of such a spirit, and well you know

The superstitious idle-headed eld

Receiv'd, and did deliver to our age,

This tale of Herne the Hunter for a truth.

                 - William Shakespeare, The Merry Wives of Windsor

Today's Monster Monday is Herne, king of the Wild Hunt.  This ethereal huntsman rides his trusty steed through the woods accompanied by a far-seeing owl and two noble hunting dogs.  His motives are a mystery, but tales of this lonesome rider who hunts across the realms of men and fey have spread far and wide.

The tale of Herne the Hunter is first attested in William Shakespeare's The Merry Wives of Windsor (quoted above) which tells of a ghostly huntsman who haunts a particular oak.  The story may originate in the execution of a poacher named Richard Horne during the time of King Henry VIII.  The legend of Herne was expanded upon in Harrison Ainsworth's 1843 novel Windsor Castle, whence comes the illustration below.

Illustration of Herne the Hunter by George Cruikshank, via Wikimedia

Therein, Herne is described as:

a wild spectral-looking object, possessing some slight resemblance to humanity, and habited, so far as it could be determined, in the skins of deer, strangely disposed about its gaunt and tawny-coloured limbs. On its head was seen a sort of helmet, formed of the skull of a stag, from which branched a large pair of antlers; from its left arm hung a heavy and rusty-looking chain, in the links of which burnt the phosphoric fire before mentioned; while on its right wrist was perched a large horned owl, with feathers erected, and red staring eyes.

Some have tried to find the origins of the Herne story in the Celtic god Cernunnos.  While both Cernunnos and Herne are antlered huntsman, it seems to me a bit of a stretch to assume that a story first attested in 1597 has its origins in a god not worshipped there for 1000 years.  Nevertheless, it makes for a pretty rad monster.

Herne is a whole combat encounter rolled into one monster, mostly because he is never without his two loyal hounds, his noble steed, and his enigmatic owl.  These ethereal beasts are treated in essentially the same way as a druid's animal companion; the herne is considered a 15th level druid for the purposes of his hunting companions, with those 15 levels divided up between the horse, dogs, and owl.  So when a party fights the herne, they are actually fighting five individual creatures.  Check out the dauntingly long stat block below.

The following text in gold is available as Open Game Content under the OGL. Open Game Content is ©2017 Jonah Bomgaars.

Monster Monday: Shellycoat, the Evil Armored Water Spirit

Today's Monster Monday is the shellycoat, a fey creature from Scottish mythology who is clad in a heavy coat of shells.  Shellycoats are malevolent tricksters, fond of such pranks as pretending to drown and then drowning any passers-by who try to help.  You know that old goof?  Unlike most fey, shellycoats are brutish and strong and heavily armored, making them formidable front-line troops or tough bruisers.

In Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border (1803), Sir Walter Scott said of the shellycoat, "he seemed to be decked with marine productions; and, in particular, with shells, whose clattering announced his approach."  From the tales recorded about shellycoats by Scottish folklorists, their pranks could range from the mischievous to the deadly.  Scott says that they shellycoat is "a freakish spirit, who delights rather to perplex and frighten mankind, than to serve, or seriously hurt them."  He goes on to describe one of the creature's pranks: calling out to a pair of travelers from a river, pretending to be a drowning person in need of aid.  The shellycoat led them upriver all night until they arrived at the source of the waters high in the mountains, only to laugh uproariously at the would-be rescuers and their wasted effort.  But in 1948, folklorist Lewis Spence described the shellycoat as "gigantic, swift, malignant, delighting in blood and violence."  One tale from Leith describes how a shellycoat seized a local man and threw him around until he died from the trauma.  So we have a picture of the shellycoat as both a prankster and a brutal murderer, both aspects of which I have chosen to include in the creature statted up below.

As with so many spirits and creatures of local folklore, the shellycoat suffered from innumerable variations, mutations, and conflations with other myths and legends across centuries of oral tradition until stories of the creature were finally recorded in the modern era.  One tale of the shellycoat comes to us from Ettrick Water, Selkirkshire, recorded in Allan Ramsay's Poems in 1721:

One of those frightful Spectres the ignorant People are terrified at, and tell us strange Stories of; that they are clothed with a Coat of Shells, which make a horrid rattling, that they'll be sure to destroy one, if he gets not a running Water between him and it...

The rattling coat of shells is there, but in this story the shellycoat apparently cannot cross running water - not an uncommon weakness for a bogeyman, but odd for a creature that is attested in other sources as dwelling in the water.  It is also said in some stories that the shellycoat became powerless if it took off its shell-coat - a trait probably borrowed from stories of selkies.  I have retained that aspect of the shellycoat because of the emphasis in puts on the creature's shell-armor, and because it sets up a combat where the adventurers are trying to sunder the shellycoat's armor before going in for the kill.

The following text in gold is available as Open Game Content under the OGL. Open Game Content is ©2017 Jonah Bomgaars.

Monster Monday: Green Man, Guardian of Wood and Field

Today's Monster Monday is the green man, a powerful plant spirit from European folk mythology.  The green man acts as a guardian of nature and a protector of communities that show proper respect to the wilds, but also as an avenger against those who despoil the wilderness and threaten his sacred groves.

via Wikimedia

Unlike most other nature spirits - such as dryads and nymphs - a green man does not avoid human settlements, and in fact it is not uncommon to see a green man visiting a rural planting festival to bless the year's crops.  But for all his tolerance of humanity, a green man's wrath is to be feared like none other.  He commands a withering array of plant magics capable of turning the whole forest against any who cross him.

via Wikimedia

The green man is a common decorative motif, especially in the British Isles.  Its origins remain uncertain, but many have attempted to connect it back to pre-Christian beliefs and nature deities like Pan and Silvanus.  Others have seen connections to the tale of Gawain and the Green Knight, wherein King Arthur's nephew does battle with a jolly green giant.  The green man is also connected to the Jack-in-Green, a leafy figure that appears in some rural English folk festivals.  Is the green man an echo of Europe's pagan past, preserved through time by folk memory and sculptural motifs?  Or did sculptors just like carving leafy faces?  This may remain an unsolved mystery, like the question of why there are so many medieval illustrations of knights fighting snails.

The following text in gold is available as Open Game Content under the OGL. Open Game Content is ©2017 Jonah Bomgaars.

St. Patrick's Day Monster: Clurichaun - The Drunken Leprechaun

Happy Saint Patrick's Day, everyone!  This is one of my favorite holidays, because I will take any opportunity to make and eat corned beef.  In the vein of past holiday monsters, thought I would share the holiday joy with you, my loyal readers, by creating this holiday-appropriate monster:

T.C. Croker via Wikimedia

Believe it or not, this is the best public-domain picture available for a clurichaun.

The clurichaun (or cluricaune, or clobhair-ceann, or lugirgadaune) is a leprechaun-like sprite from Irish folklore that just loves alcohol and mischief.  Here are some telling quotes from The Encyclopedia of Celtic Mythology and Folklore, by Patricia Monaghan (2004: Facts On File, Inc.):

Fond of tippling, the cluricaune would steal into wine cellars, especially those belonging to alcoholics, to steal a few bottles.  He was hard to exterminate, for if an owner tried to move, the cluricaune would simply travel along inside a cask.

One cluricaune named Little Wildbeam, who haunted a Quaker family in Cork, was most helpful if a servant left a bit of beer dripping from the cask; he shrank and wedged himself into the spigot so that not a drop was lost.  If the maids did not feed him well, the fairy came out at night and beat them senseless.  

I swear this is an actual piece of Irish folklore and not a 19th century racist caricature of an Irishman.

The following text in gold is available as Open Game Content under the OGL. Open Game Content is ©2015 Jonah Bomgaars.

Monster Monday: Frostjack - the Frost-Touched Fey

As a bonus preview for my upcoming Christmas adventure, "Escape from the Lair of the Krampus", today's Monster Monday is the frostjack, a frozen fey creature based on the legendary figure of Jack Frost.  This is one of five brand new monsters I have statted up for this dungeon (one of the big reasons for my lateness in getting the adventure written up.  Expect it before Christmas!)

Here's a lovely picture of some ice crystals,
because I can't find a good jack frost picture that isn't from some Legend of the Guardians fanfic.  

The following text in gold is available as Open Game Content under the OGL. Open Game Content is (C)2014 Jonah Bomgaars.

Monster Monday: Krampus, the Christmas Demon

Merry Christmas, everyone!  In the spirit of the season, I have decided to stat up Krampus, the evil being of Germanic Christmas folklore who accompanies Santa and punishes bad little children by beating them with a birch switch, stuffing them in a sack, and carrying them back to his lair to eat them.  Wow, don't be naughty in Germany, kids.  Plus, I have statted up perchten, the minions of Krampus.

As an added Krampusnacht bonus, I am writing this post from Germany!

The following text in gold is available as Open Game Content under the OGL. Open Game Content is (C)2013 Jonah Bomgaars.

~~~~~~~~

Monster Monday: Melusine, the Two-Tailed Shapeshifting Mermaid

Today's Monster Monday entry is the melusine, a fey creature with twin fish-tails and shimmering golden wings who takes the form of a beautiful woman in order to marry a mortal man and live the sweet life on his dime.

source

(And before I start, yes I know I said I would try to update every Monday, and then failed to deliver the next Monday.  But hey, you got a Halloween update instead!)
The following text in gold is available as Open Game Content under the OGL. Open Game Content is (C)2013 Jonah Bomgaars.

Monster Monday: Tikoloshe, Evil African Leprechaun

Today's Monster Monday entry is the tikoloshe, an evil water spirit from Zulu mythology.  They are somewhat like leprechauns, equipped with an array of mischief-making spell-like abilities including at-will invisibility, but where leprechauns are tricksters, tikoloshe are purely evil.

The following text in gold is available as Open Game Content under the OGL. Open Game Content is (C)2013 Jonah Bomgaars.