TEXT: By Stuart Boon & James ‘Grim’ Desborough
  with Gareth Hanrahan, Sarah Newton and Alex Staniforth
  
  -Credits-
  Written by Stuart Boon and James ‘Grim’ Desborough
  Additional Writing by Gareth Hanrahan, Sarah Newton, and Alex Staniforth
  Cover Art by Jon Hodgson
  Interior Artwork by Andy Hepworth, Jon Hodgson, Pat Loboyko, Eric Lofgren, 
  Rich Longmore, Jeremy McHugh, Sam Manley, Scott Neil and Scott Purdy
  Edited by Matthew Pook
  Layout and Graphic Design by Paul Bourne
  Managing Developer: Stuart Boon
  Art Direction by Jon Hodgson
  Publisher: Dominic McDowall-Thomas
  Creative Director: Dominic McDowall-Thomas
  Proofreading by Michele Hilton Boon
  Media Enquiries: pr@cubicle7.co.uk
  Sales Enquiries: sales@cubicle7.co.uk
   
  Published by Cubicle 7 Entertainment Ltd
  Riverside House, Osney Mead, Oxford OX2 0ES, UK Reg. no 6036414
   
  Call of Cthulhu is the Registered Trademark of Chaosium Inc., and is used with their permission.
  http://www.chaosium.com
  This book, including all art, concepts, characters, text, and intellectual properties 
  (besides those belonging to Chaosium and used under license) 
  © 2012 Cubicle 7 Entertainment Ltd.
  Any unauthorised use of copyrighted material is illegal.
  Any trademarked names are used in a historical or fictional manner; no infringement is intended.
  Find out more about Cthulhu Britannica: Folklore and our other games at www.cubicle7.co.uk
  Printed in the USA
  Disclaimer
  This book contains descriptions of real places, real events, and real people. These may not be presented accurately and with conformity to the real 
  world nature of these places, people, and events and are described in terms of the folklore, myths, and legends about them, further reinterpreted 
  through the lens of the Cthulhu Mythos.
  No offence to anyone living or dead or to the inhabitants of any of these places is intended. Just as these stories have formed the basis for local 
  folklore, so they are being used here as the basis around which to spin tales about the ancient horrors from the imagination of H. P. Lovecraft and 
  those who have expanded upon his visions.
  
  -Contents-
  Introduction 
  6
  Folklore: A Closer Look 
  10
  What is folklore? 
  10
  Folklore in 1920s Britain 
  11
  Using Folklore in Call of Cthulhu Games 
  13
  Using Folklore - Placement and Role 
  13
  Using Folklore - Relationship to the Mythos 
  17
  Using Folk Magic in Call of Cthulhu Games 22
  Folk Magic as Derivative Mythos Magic 
  22
  Folk Magic as Non-Mythos Magic 
  24
  Folk Medicine 
  27
  A Folklore Bestiary 
  29
  Fairy Folk 
  29
  Sea Folk 
  31
  Little Folk 
  32
  Big Folk 
  35
  Magic-wielding Humans 
  37
  Shape-Shifters 
  39
  Bodily Horrors 
  41
  Ghosts and Spirits 
  45
  Black Dogs 
  48
  Water Horses 
  55
  Dragons 
  58
  The Wild Hunt 
  60
  The Folklore Calendar 
  66
  The Folklore Year 
  66
  Old Ones and Old Gods 
  72
  Mythos Entities to Consider 
  72
  Folklore Mythos Threats 
  77
  The Beast of Bodmin 
  77
  Head Over Heels 
  81
  The Writhing Hill 
  85
  The Horror Out of Time 
  92
  Daughters of the Sea 
  97
  The Body Politic 
  102
  Wedded to the Deep 
  110
  The Company of Wolves 
  116
  The Black Spring Gate 
  124
  Index  
  130
  
  My friend, 
  I am newly returned from Ireland. I would have written earlier from the train had not the damned 
  baggage handler in Glasgow thrown my rucksack in with my other luggage. I have little time now 
  and less time to write. I must reach Newcastle tomorrow and escape to the continent.
  All that I uncovered in Ireland hidden in those detestable bogs south of Fivemiletown and 
  everything I have learned over the past fifteen years of research I now send to you. I pray you 
  accept it as one folklorist to another. Some of it you will recognise, but much of it you will not. And 
  even that which you profess to know and believe to be true will be tested by what you read herein.
  You may surmise, upon flipping through this tome, that I sleep little and that my waking hours are 
  full of nightmares. And you would not be wrong. I must warn you against reading too deeply of 
  the secrets you find within. Take care, my friend, and read cautiously!
  For in this well-worn tome you will find accounts of the most cunning, deadly, and seemingly 
  magical creatures inhabiting the British Isles. Their blasphemous and detestable motivations, their 
  unseemly and gruesome machinations, and their insidious connections to truths and powers darker still 
  are here laid bare. Between its pages, you will encounter spells and incantations, rites and rituals, 
  and calculations and computations—all which threaten to drive less rational minds mad. So little in 
  this world is as simple and safe as it seems, my friend. Even the significance of days, months, and 
  the wheeling of the sun in the sky must be reconsidered.
  But now to the very heart of the matter: our deeper, more earnest study of folklore has always 
  entailed some danger as we sought the secrets and monsters that lurked in the shadows. And what 
  monsters we have found hidden in our collective folklore, conveyed in story, rhyme, tradition, and 
  song. We have long known, you and I, that our Great Britain is home to wonders almost too 
  strange and numerous to account for. But we were wrong to think ourselves wise, to think that we 
  knew its secrets.
  There are greater, darker secrets still and monsters and entities more terrible and weird than we 
  could possibly imagine, lurking not just in the shadows or on the fringes of our society but inhabiting 
  adjoining dimensions and even the very chaos outside time and space. And they are here, with us! 
  These things too form part of our collective folklore—their stories coincide with ours.
  I have writ what I can in this tome now in your hands. Thinking on it now and writing this letter 
  fills me with the worst dread. For I have learned too much and what I have learned threatens to 
  unhinge my troubled mind. The secrets I have uncovered and scribed in this tome place me in the 
  gravest danger. I am being watched even now. I am sure of it.
  Some things are not meant to be known or understood, I see that now. The truths expressed here 
  are all too awful and I fear I will pay a terrible price for such knowledge. Beware the secrets 
  held in this tome, my friend. Take care in what you read. It may come to haunt you as it does me!
  I must away. Something moves even now in the shadows across the road.
  I remain your friend,
  D.
  
  Introduction
  
  -Introduction-
  Folklore
  G
  reat Britain in the 1920s is a nation steeped in stories drawn from history, myth, legend, and folklore. From the northernmost 
  tip of the Shetland Islands to the southernmost beaches of Devon and Cornwall, from the Irish Sea and the Atlantic Ocean 
  to the North Sea and the English Channel, the United Kingdom is awash with tales passed down from one generation to the 
  next. The very hills and mountains, lakes and lochs, and valleys and gorges of Britain are filled with stories of strange events and 
  stranger creatures.
  The folklore of Great Britain binds the people to the land, the seasons, the known, and the unknown. It tells of experiences both 
  mundane and supernatural, wrapped up in stories meant to teach, to entertain, and often to serve as warnings. These stories and 
  fables are shared in schoolyards, in town halls, and on city streets. They are discussed in university lecture theatres and whispered 
  in the dark corners of backstreet pubs. Taken together these stories, fables, and traditions form the ‘lore of the folk’ and, thus, 
  wherever there are folk, there is folklore.
  And so, the great cities and industrial centres of the United Kingdom are overflowing with fantastic tales tied variously to places, 
  people, times, dates, and odd happenings. Likewise, the smallest hamlets or the most remote promontories and islands have their 
  own folklore traditions—and, even if they did not, some enterprising person would no doubt make one up for you. Behind the 
  modern façade of Britain in the 1920s is a country teeming with links to the supernatural.
  6
  
  7
  The wealth of folklore in 1920s Britain can, at least in part, be 
  traced back to the many cultures and peoples that have settled 
  in the various parts of the United Kingdom over its history. 
  England, Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland have been 
  invaded and inhabited by numerous different folk since the 
  Stone Age and each has left their own mark upon the land and 
  the folk beliefs of the people. Amongst the most influential we 
  might count the Celts, the Picts, the Vikings, the Anglo-Saxons, 
  the Romans, and the Normans—each of whom were prosperous 
  and populous enough to leave lasting influences on the histories, 
  traditions, and cultural memories of the nation.
  As a result, the folklore of the United Kingdom is abundantly 
  varied, sharing with and drawing upon the special histories 
  and traditions of the peoples of Scotland, Wales, Northern 
  Ireland, and England. It is this extremely rich, diverse, and 
  multicultural past that Britain’s folklore draws upon. And it is 
  this same rich diversity that Keepers can draw upon in creating 
  adventures and scenarios in 1920s Britain. The folkloric wealth 
  of the United Kingdom is in your hands: its tales and stories, its 
  occult and scientific secrets, its history and pageantry, and the 
  very rocks upon which the country itself are built provide a rich 
  basis from which to spin fantastic and mysterious tales.
  From The Influence of Folklore on Modern Britain by Mortimer Hargreaves, Rose House Press, 1919.
  T
  ake, for instance, my own small village, deep in the picturesque Hampshire countryside. In this 
  small plot of land containing not even two thousand people, one can find a huge variety of folk 
  stories and peculiar landmarks that form, or inform, the folklore surrounding the village. For 
  example, it is believed that the devil himself will appear and drag down to the fiery pit anyone caught 
  running around a particular gravestone whilst intoning the word “widdershins” seven times. Just which 
  gravestone it is and why uttering the word “widdershins” should cause such a thing is a complete 
  mystery! 
  And yet correspondence I have received from all over Britain has shown that this instance of folklore is 
  quite common. In each case, running anticlockwise around a particular headstone, church, or tree will 
  result in the perpetrator being transported to Hell, Elfland, or other locations unknown. In fact many of 
  the hamlets and villages roundabout mine evince similar folklore elements, such as ancient yew trees 
  and marble fonts of special significance. 
  Ghosts and goblins are present in abundance as well. A phantom coach and horses is said to appear 
  on moonlit nights in the local school grounds and the ghost of an unfortunate suicide haunts the hill 
  overlooking the town. Upon that self-same hill stands the “Lone Barn,” being a place where mysterious 
  chalk images of horses are often found drawn onto the walls in a style reminiscent of Celtic art or 
  ancient hill carvings in nearby Wiltshire. In the freshly ploughed fields, farmers find “Shepherd’s 
  crowns,” also known as “Faerie loaves” or “Snakes’ eggs,” in abundance, each with their own different 
  folktale behind them. 
  These are but a few of the tales of folklore to be found in this one small, rural village in one county 
  of England. Others hint of spells and witchcraft, meteorites and strange rocks possessing power, and 
  tomes of magic or other occult books found in the derelict houses. Such is the influence of folklore 
  in modern Britain today. It is everywhere in every field, stream, rock, and wood. This rich folkloric 
  tradition is part of what makes Britain British.
  Introduction
  
  8
  Folklore
  The largely supernatural nature of British folklore makes 
  it a perfect breeding ground for investigative scenarios and 
  provides a colourful backdrop for Mythos stories. The choice is 
  yours as to how to incorporate or use folklore in your adventures 
  and campaigns. The options are numerous. Certainly there are 
  enough references to fantastic beings and monsters, witches 
  and black sorcerers, secret societies and dark cults found all 
  over the United Kingdom to satisfy most Keepers and confound 
  most investigators. 
  With a few subtle alterations or minor tweaks, any folklore 
  element can combine with the Cthulhu Mythos, providing a 
  uniquely British vision of the Weird that encompasses the 
  gibbering and otherworldly horrors of the Great Old Ones as 
  well as something so seemingly innocuous as well-dressings 
  and Morris dancing.
  The sections that follow look deeper into what constitutes 
  folklore, what are its boundaries and what does it include, 
  and how to use folklore in Call of Cthulhu games, focusing 
  on incorporating folklore events, creatures, and magic into 
  scenarios and campaigns. Subsequent sections provide Keepers 
  with a detailed folklore bestiary, a look at Great Old Ones and 
  Outer Gods that might lurk behind the folklore, and a host of 
  folklore/mythos plots or scenario seeds to test the abilities and 
  sanity of their investigators.
  Further Reading
  A Dictionary of English Folklore by Simpson and Roud (2000). Oxford: Oxford University Press.
  A Handbook of Irish Folklore by Seán Ó Súilleabháin (1963). London: Herbert Jenkins.
  Celtic Folklore: Welsh and Manx by John Rhys, Vols. I & II (1901). Oxford: Clarendon Press.
  The Folklore of Orkney and Shetland by Ernest Marwick (2011). Edinburgh: Birlinn Limited.
  Folklore of the Scottish Highlands by Anne Ross (2000). Stroud: Tempus Publishing.
  Folklore of Wales by Anne Ross (2001). Stroud: Tempus Publishing.
  In Search of Lost Gods: A Guide to British Folklore by Ralph Whitlock (1979). London: Phaidon.
  Locating Irish Folklore: Tradition, Modernity, Identity by Diarmuid Ó Giolláin (2000). Cork: Cork University Press.
  
  Folklore: 
  A Closer Look
  
  -Folklore: A Closer Look-
  Folklore
  “To say that we actually believed in vampires or werewolves 
  would be a carelessly inclusive statement. Rather must it 
  be said that we were not prepared to deny the possibility of 
  certain unfamiliar and unclassified modifications of vital force 
  and attenuated matter; existing very infrequently in three-
  dimensional space because of its more intimate connexion with 
  other spatial units, yet close enough to the boundary of our 
  own to furnish us occasional manifestations which we, for lack 
  of a proper vantage-point, may never hope to understand.”
  (Howard Phillips Lovecraft, The Shunned House, 1937)
  H
  ow do you know what you know, and where do you turn 
  for answers when the unexplained occurs or tragedy 
  strikes? What do you have in common with your neighbours, 
  and how do you create shared understanding and shared 
  meanings with them? Before science, before medicine, before 
  television, people shared their knowledge and entertained 
  each other with stories that were not held in any library 
  but that lived in the minds, speech, song, and work of the 
  community. Only when people began to live outside these 
  beliefs, only when there was a rupture in the continuity of this 
  traditional culture, could the term ‘folklore’ be used by those 
  who wished to preserve from oblivion a cultural heritage that 
  seemed to belong to a rapidly receding past.
  In the early 1800s, Britain was transformed by urbanization and 
  industrialization. Between 1800 and 1825 the population more 
  than doubled, from nine to twenty million. The construction of 
  thousands of miles of railways in the 1840s further contributed 
  to emptying the countryside as the formerly agrarian, rural 
  population sought higher wages and standards of living in the 
  new industrial cities. There were those who realized that the 
  Industrial Revolution was also a cultural revolution. 
  They recognised that, as rural populations dwindled and their 
  traditions were abandoned, replaced by the speed and smoke of 
  a new age, part of the British way of life was being left behind. 
  ‘Antiquaries’ or amateur historians began to collect and preserve 
  these traditions that seemed in danger of disappearing forever. 
  Some of the traditions related to practical aspects of life, such as 
  ways to thatch a roof or make cloth. Others related to the stories 
  and songs passed down orally. Still others served as lessons or 
  warnings regarding the creatures and monsters that exist on 
  the fringes of human settlements or lurk dangerously in the 
  shadows. Antiquaries began to develop a language to describe 
  their object of study, labelled in various awkward phrases 
  such as “the ways of folk” or “the lore of the people”.William J. 
  Thoms was one such antiquary, a clerk at Chelsea Hospital and 
  subsequently Deputy Librarian to the House of Lords. In 1846 
  he coined the term “folklore” as a catch-all description of these 
  disparate areas of historical and cultural enquiry.
  - What is folklore? -
  Folklore is a moveable feast that has never been tied down to a 
  single meaning, leading some scholars to question whether it is 
  even useful as a concept, but at the same time producing a rich and 
  varied tapestry in our cultural record. Folklore encompasses 
  the traditional customs, stories, beliefs, songs, dances, 
  myths, legends, visual art, practical knowledge, 
  crafts and superstitions passed down 
  orally from one generation to 
  the next.
  10
  
  11
  Folklore can take as its subject mundane aspects of daily life, 
  such as how to mend fishing nets or the origins of place names. 
  At the same time, folklore can cross the boundaries between 
  ordinary life and the magical, unseen world, allowing the 
  weather to be predicted, spells cast or the future divined. 
  Folklore can soar to the heights of fancy, passing through 
  the lands of elves and giants to the spirit world and beyond 
  in the company of heroes, princesses and fabulous creatures. 
  And folklore can penetrate to the darkest corners of existence, 
  taking us behind the veil of reality to witness for ourselves the 
  terrible, alien truths of the universe beyond, capturing vague 
  notions of evil, malevolent beings, their horrible deeds, and 
  the primal fears that they inspire for preservation 
  in the cultural memory.
  Fairy tales, myths, and legends are sub-categories 
  of folklore. Fairy tales are stories intended for children 
  that frequently make use of folkloric elements such as magical 
  objects and creatures. They use archetypal characters such as 
  kings and queens, knights and princesses, fools and peasants, 
  and beings imbued with magic (good or evil) such as fairies 
  and phantoms, witches and wizards, and talking animals. 
  Legends are traditional stories presented as having some 
  historical basis yet with uncertain truth-value, such as the 
  stories of King Arthur and his court, or Fionn MacCumhaill 
  and the Fianna warriors. Myths, like legends, are traditional 
  stories set in a long-ago time, but derive their truth-value from 
  cultural or religious belief rather than putative historicity. 
  Myths tell stories of the creation of the world, explain natural 
  phenomena, or recount the deeds of gods and goddesses who 
  once walked the earth in common with humanity, but have 
  since withdrawn to distant realms.
  To read folklore now is to find out what it was like to live 
  in a time when the human imagination was free to create 
  explanations for lived experiences unfettered by scientific 
  principles or religious doctrine. From this freedom sprang 
  proverbs, beliefs, and tales that generation after generation of 
  storytellers crafted and honed into memorable forms preserved 
  in the life of the community, their survival ensured because 
  they met fundamental human needs, not just for roofs and 
  fishing nets but for excitement, consolation or reassurance, and 
  the thrill of fear.
  The knowledge embodied in folklore could satisfy primal 
  psychological needs, explain mysterious events, and even give 
  power over life and death. The stories of heroes and monsters, 
  great deeds, and magic gave even the poorest folk their cultural 
  treasures to be re-told and passed down to their children.
  - Folklore in 1920s Britain -
  In the 1920s, science was well embedded in the United 
  Kingdom as the dominant paradigm for explaining natural and 
  seemingly unnatural phenomena. New technologies dazzled 
  the imagination on a daily basis and steadily infiltrated every 
  Folklore: A Closer Look
  11
  
  12
  Folklore
  aspect of daily life. Scientific study in Britain at the time was 
  primarily forward-looking, dealing with the future more than 
  the present or past. In contrast, the study of folklore was an 
  area of scholarship reflecting on traditions, stories, customs, 
  and attitudes that concerned the past and present.
  Folklore, with its powerful images and characters, was 
  sometimes used by radical separatists to shore up regional 
  identities or by conservatives to promote nationalism, 
  but science ruled the day. For some, folklore represented 
  a sentimental nostalgia for a fictive, imaginary past that 
  proffered an idyllic, imagined British countryside full of 
  colourful inhabitants. For others, such as the poor or working 
  class entering the universities and becoming upwardly mobile, 
  the study of folklore represented a legitimization of their own 
  cultural background, their beliefs, and their ancestral way of 
  life. The elite meanwhile could utilise folklore as well to assert 
  their own greater sophistication and cultural power, using 
  the collection of folklore to demonstrate the primitivism and 
  ignorance of people and cultures they sought to dominate. 
  Since Victorian times, adventurers, explorers, and scholars 
  had been returning from the four corners of the Empire, 
  carrying with them the material spoils, but also the rich, native 
  folklore, of other cultures. As a result, the study of folklore 
  grew to encompass the beliefs and stories belonging to the 
  whole Empire. The study of British folklore was subsequently 
  enriched through comparison to these other, foreign folklores. 
  Throughout the 1920s, folklore as a whole achieves greater 
  notice and is taken more seriously.
  No longer just a curious pastime, the study of folklore becomes 
  a more accepted occupation than it has been previously. Men 
  and women researching the ancestral stories, songs, and 
  traditions of ancient Britain and visiting sites of folkloric 
  significance around the country are not as rare as they once 
  were. The “folklorist” profession gains credibility and becomes 
  more widely recognised in the media and popular culture. 
  Folklorists themselves are contracted by governments, 
  universities, and other specialist institutions to collect and 
  research the socio-cultural knowledge of the people. The 
  preservation of folklore becomes an accepted national concern. 
  And yet, for all the interest in folklore, it is a subject that 
  remains on the fringes of mainstream 1920s culture, ever 
  superseded by Britain’s thirst for innovation, technology, and 
  the wonder of science. Perhaps the only exception to this rule 
  comes in the persistence of ‘old ways’ in the rural and more 
  isolated regions of the British Isles. Folklore and folklorists 
  have their day from time to time throughout the decade, but 
  more often they exist in the background or on the periphery, 
  waiting for some strange occurrence, some bizarre situation, or 
  some supernatural event to bring them centre stage once more.
  For Keepers, folklorists can contribute to story progression 
  by supplying information about traditional tales, creatures, 
  or beliefs that may be relevant to the investigators’ activities. 
  As experts in local history and lore, they may be able to 
  help investigators find long-forgotten locations or translate 
  local dialects such as Cornish or Manx. They may appear as 
  interesting NPCs and have varied motivations for collecting 
  and studying folklore. For example, they might be disaffected 
  urbanites trying to rediscover the lost and best-forgotten secrets 
  of their rural ancestors, or alternatively they might in fact be 
  scientific purists interested in debunking local superstitions 
  that prove to have an all-too-real basis. Or perhaps they 
  might be international adventurers bringing home the crafts 
  and spells of aboriginal cultures or the unsettling tales and 
  blasphemous beliefs of a lost civilization whose dark powers 
  and darker purposes can scarcely be guessed at.
   New Occupation: Folklorist
  Folklorists are methodical students of folklore, folk magic, 
  and folk medicine in a professional sense. They do not 
  necessarily believe that there is truth behind all folklore 
  and folk magic traditions—though many do—but spend 
  their time exploring, collecting, and analysing folk stories, 
  songs, rhymes, traditions, and beliefs. A folklorist spends 
  much of his or her time in the field, visiting significant sites 
  and talking with local people to collect and gather as much 
  information as possible. Many folklorists are familiar with 
  a broad range of folk histories and traditions governing 
  many cultures, whilst a fewer number might specialise in 
  the folklore of a single country, region, or people.
  Earnings: Upper Lower to Middle Class.
  Contacts and Connections: Libraries, universities and 
  scholars, folklore societies, other folklorists, and locals in 
  their current area of study.
  Skills: Anthropology, English, History, Library Use, Natural 
  History, Occult, Other Languages (especially disappearing or 
  dead languages; e.g. Gaelic or Latin). 
  
  Using Folklore in 
  Call of Cthulhu Games
  
  -Using Folklore in Call of Cthulhu Games-
  Folklore
  “Possibly Gilman ought not to have studied so hard. Non-
  Euclidean calculus and quantum physics are enough to 
  stretch any brain, and when one mixes them with folklore, 
  and tries to trace a strange background of multi-dimensional 
  reality behind the ghoulish hints of the Gothic tales and the 
  wild whispers of the chimney-corner, one can hardly expect 
  to be wholly free from mental tension.”
  (Howard Phillips Lovecraft, 
  The Dreams in the Witch House, 1933)
  L
  ike many writers before him, H. P. Lovecraft wove 
  elements taken directly from folklore and occult 
  traditions into many of his stories. In The Dreams in the 
  Witch House, for example, Keziah Mason is very much seen 
  as a classically evil witch, stealing babies and sacrificing 
  them to the devil on Walpurgisnacht (May Day or Beltane in 
  British pagan tradition), but she also uses otherworldly occult 
  knowledge and advanced mathematics to warp the curvature 
  of space time. Keziah represents a hybrid incorporating 
  elements of folklore woven together with distinctly 
  Lovecraftian elements.
  Authors making use of, or contributing to, the Cthulhu Mythos 
  often utilise folklore elements and do so for good reason: 
  using folklore grounds the Mythos elements in a traditional 
  and cultural context that we can understand, that we know 
  and share. But beyond providing a useful point of connection, 
  calling upon a rich folkloric tradition also adds historical 
  depth (fictional or otherwise) and evocative colour, often 
  tapping into some preternatural race memory. In short, the 
  use of folklore can help readers and players begin to imagine 
  and contextualise the Mythos element, bringing it alive or 
  making it ‘real’ for them.
  The same benefits clearly apply for Call of Cthulhu Keepers: 
  introducing folklore elements adds interest, depth, and 
  excitement to scenes and scenarios. Just how, where, when, 
  and why the folklore elements are included is up to the 
  Keeper. The following sections explore different means of 
  incorporating folklore into your Call of Cthulhu games, 
  outlining options and some useful models that Keepers might 
  wish to use, modify, or build upon.
   - Using Folklore - 
  Placement and Role
  Using folklore in a Call of Cthulhu game involves a number 
  of choices; first and foremost amongst them are questions of 
  role and placement or, in other words, where does the folklore 
  come in and what role or place does it occupy.
  Placement
  Where does folklore sit in relation to the central story?  What 
  “place” does it inhabit in the scenario? What significance or 
  importance does it have? How does it relate to the investigators 
  and / or their investigation?
   
  Often placement is one of the first things that a Keeper thinks 
  of when devising a scene or scenario, namely considering 
  what situation, monster, or event will be in the foreground 
  and what, if anything, will lie in the background. For a 
  scenario involving the murderous activities of a cult devoted 
  to Tsathoggua, for example, chances are good that the cult 
  itself and the worship of Tsathoggua are going to be front 
  and centre in the foreground. In that same scenario perhaps 
  a story of deadly conflict between two powerful rival families 
  stands as a backdrop to the central action. Or perhaps the only 
  background given is uncovered in the letters and diary extracts 
  of a murdered private investigator or amateur occultist who 
  was investigating the case prior to the characters’ involvement.
  Simply put, you are considering where the Mythos or folklore 
  element is placed in relation to your main story. Is it the 
  protagonist, antagonist, or prime mover in your adventure? 
  Is it an interesting bystander or an important bit of culture 
  encountered by the investigators? Or is the folklore there 
  simply to add background colour, helping to establish mood, 
  create a particular atmosphere, or have some other effect? 
  When thinking about the location or placement of folklore, 
  Keepers may wish to consider a number of different positions 
  that folklore can occupy in relation to the plot, namely: 
  external to the story, parallel to the story, behind the story, a 
  part of the story, or being the story itself. This is by no means 
  14
  
  15
  an exhaustive list, but looking at each option in more detail 
  below should provide some ideas for incorporating folklore 
  into your games. Examples and references to folklore creatures 
  and events given below are taken from the Folklore Bestiary 
  (page 29) and Folklore Calendar (page 66), respectively.
  Folklore is External to the Story
  In this case, folklore is entirely in the background. It is not 
  part of the central story and does not play an active role in 
  the action. In some cases, the folklore element may be largely 
  descriptive: for example, the scenario takes place in a small 
  Yorkshire town that has strong folkloric beliefs, but those 
  beliefs serve only to add colour to the proceedings and do not 
  affect the story or its outcome. Perhaps the events in another 
  scenario take place in the run up to Up Helly Aa or Lúnasa, 
  again providing an interesting backdrop for the investigators’ 
  adventures.
  If the folklore element is a creature or monster and it is 
  external to the story, then it might serve as a red herring 
  seeking to distract the investigators from the main plot. For 
  example, folktales of knockers or bwca in Cornwall or Wales, 
  respectively, might draw the investigators away from the truth 
  of mi-go or chthonian activity in the local mines. In this case, 
  the folklore element has no other function beyond adding 
  interest and diverting the players from the real goal.
  Folklore is Parallel to the Story
  A less frequently used method of placing folklore into a 
  Call of Cthulhu scenario or campaign is to have the folklore 
  thread or story run parallel to the main plot. The folklore 
  story progresses alongside the Mythos story. The two threads 
  or plots are independent of one another and the activities of 
  one do not take part in the core action of the other, but they 
  may be intertwined. The folklore element remains external, 
  but does add interest and colour to events, possibly providing 
  continuity as well. Take a situation where the machinations 
  of a Mythos sorcerer mimic the folkloric traditions of Celtic 
  druids and the characters’ investigations reveal the story 
  behind the druids’ actions while uncovering the true events 
  taking place in a dark wood. Here the folklore is not actually 
  part of the Mythos story arc—far from it—but the reference 
  could add considerably to the mystery and mood of the piece.
  Similarly a scenario could be run in parallel with the re-telling 
  or re-enactment of a folktale during a Yule festival, providing 
  it with a colourful thematic or atmospheric backdrop. Or 
  perhaps repeated appearances of mysterious black dogs on the 
  Lincolnshire fens coincide with the characters’ investigations 
  of deep ones near King’s Lynn. The black dogs could be used 
  to add to the local colour, to act as a red herring, or to increase 
  tension in the main story. Enterprising Keepers might also 
  choose to use this method to introduce, link to, or lead into a 
  scenario that involves the folklore element directly.
  Folklore is Behind the Story
  In this configuration, the folklore element lies behind the 
  main story arc, directly informing the action. It provides the 
  background or a backdrop for the story you are telling. It 
  may, for example, provide historical background or act as a 
  precedent for the events taking place in the scenario. A folktale 
  regarding the black deeds carried out in a once-noble house 
  might provide a means of dealing with a dangerous spirit 
  haunting the now ramshackle residence. The appearance of 
  Faerie folk might presage a series of beneficial or disastrous 
  events. Or a series of seasonal murders might have a precedent 
  in a folktale, behind which lurks the real Mythos threat.
  It is the informing action that is significant here. The folklore 
  element is not a ‘part’ of the current story as such, but does 
  have an impact on how the story unfolds. Just how directly the 
  folklore informs the story depends on how the Keeper wants 
  to play it. As in the case of an established folk song or tale, the 
  influence could be very direct, quite literally providing answers 
  to the questions that baffle the characters. Alternatively, the 
  appearance of a figure or creature from folklore might have 
  only the vaguest or most nebulous influence on the story, 
  perhaps even injecting doubt and provoking more questions 
  than it answers.
  Folklore is Part of the Story
  If the folklore is more concretely part of the story, then its 
  influence and impact are necessarily significant. In this 
  instance, the folklore element plays out a role in the central 
  action in the scenario or campaign, affecting its outcome 
  for good or ill. A horde of ghoulish imps, for example, might 
  be working in league with an alien race seeking to conjure 
  Ubbo-Sathla. A group of selkies might work with a servant of 
  Nodens, or a horde of spriggans, brownies, and pixies might 
  do the bidding of The Horned Man, an avatar of Nyarlathotep. 
  Mythos agents could be using the Beltane festival to summon 
  Cthugha. Any number of combinations is possible.
  With folklore taking a more prominent role in the scenario, 
  Keepers will want to carefully consider its role and its 
  relationship to the Mythos, both of which are examined in 
  more detail below. Give some careful consideration as well 
  to how the player characters can interact with the folklore 
  Using Folklore in Call of Cthulhu Games
  
  16
  Folklore
  element, if such a thing is desirable or possible. Calling upon 
  the rich folkloric tradition of Great Britain can certainly bring 
  about some fantastic and novel roleplaying experiences. It is not 
  every day, for instance, that 1920s Call of Cthulhu investigators 
  come face to face with water horses or screaming skulls.
  Folklore is the Story
  Here the folklore element is the prime mover, the motivation 
  for the sequence of events within the scenario, and its 
  significance is inescapable. Whether the folklore element 
  bears any connection to the Mythos is up to the Keeper. You 
  may, for example, wish to create a scenario where the Mythos 
  is downplayed or even non-existent. A truly interesting way of 
  keeping your players guessing would be to have them believe 
  that they are on the trail of a Mythos entity only to end up 
  facing a nightmarish folklore creature. As always, prey upon 
  the player’s preconceptions.
  Remember that there is plenty of horror in folklore stories: 
  there is a lot that can be built upon and given a Lovecraftian 
  treatment. Indeed, as Grimm’s fairy tales show us, violence 
  and terror can be found in the most seemingly innocent and 
  harmless places. Take an archetypally good or helpful creature 
  and put it at the heart of an evil conspiracy against Mankind. 
  Have a beneficial festival or folklore event turn deadly. Upset 
  tradition and give the characters a real mystery to unravel. 
  Having established the placement of the folklore element(s) 
  in a scenario or campaign, Keepers will likely already have a 
  good idea of what role they would like that folklore to play in 
  the story. Below we briefly consider how different roles can 
  establish, change, or introduce twists in the action, before 
  looking at how folklore integrates with the Mythos.
  Role
  What active role does the folklore element perform in your 
  scenario? Is it a relatively minor red herring used to distract 
  the investigators or is it the central driver for a huge, empire-
  spanning campaign? Does the role of the folklore element 
  change over time? How does it function in a given scene or 
  throughout the entire piece?
  Most folklore elements are ambiguous enough that you can 
  attribute almost any role to them. A witch, for example, can be 
  good or evil, helpful or antagonistic, or entirely neutral. She 
  can be a healer, a wise woman, or a dark sorceress. One of 
  folklore’s most useful attributes for Keepers is its malleability, 
  its ability to be shaped, changed, or altered. 
  Using an archetypal or traditional role for a chosen folklore 
  creature or event might provide a useful and colourful 
  introduction, but altering the role or mixing it up a little will 
  keep the investigators on their toes.
  Keepers should never be afraid to modify, augment, or 
  outright break established conceptions. Want a campaign 
  that sees 1920s Britain struggling against an otherworldly 
  uprising of fairy folk? Or want an ogre to act as an informant 
  rather than a mindless brute whose only interest is in eating 
  
  17
  the characters? Not a problem. To keep things fresh, whenever 
  possible Keepers should steer away from traditional stereotypes 
  and staid archetypes. As the Keeper, you can make the world 
  your own.
  Ambiguity again works in the Keeper’s favour when 
  considering how big a role the folklore element will have in 
  the scenario or campaign. If your players encounter a vampire 
  or dragon in your scenario they will likely assume that it will 
  have a large role in the action as it plays out. Playing on that 
  assumption could lead to some interesting gameplay. Perhaps 
  the dragon is nothing but a huge red herring, or perhaps the 
  vampire wants nothing but to be left alone. Challenge your 
  players’ preconceived notions and their investigations will be 
  all the more interesting for it. 
  The same is true if the folklore element is an event or 
  phenomenon. The significance of a children’s folklore rhyme, 
  for example, could be next to nothing or it could be world 
  shattering. A seemingly innocuous festival game or similar 
  event that is virtually unknown in London might have life-
  threatening implications in a small village in the Highlands or 
  the Welsh Hills. In essence, from a design point of view, the 
  appearance of a folklore element in your scenario could have 
  huge, climactic impact or might merely inject a little mystery 
  into the characters’ affairs. The choice is yours.
  Lastly, when considering role, remember that the role played 
  by the folklore element need not be static. You don’t want the 
  selkie, druid, or pixie to appear wooden or stilted, as though a 
  cardboard character was simply popping up from time to time. 
  Folkloric individuals and creatures should change and progress 
  as your scenario or campaign progresses. They too can have 
  motivations that are gradually revealed or change over time, or 
  be pursuing their own ends in parallel with the investigators’ 
  pursuits. Even strange happenings and curious phenomena can 
  change as time passes. Be sure to keep your folklore elements 
  alive and keep your investigators on their toes.
  - Using Folklore -
  Relationship to the Mythos
  When using folklore in a Call of Cthulhu scenario, the Keeper 
  has several options for establishing how the folklore elements 
  relate to the Mythos elements. The most common relationship 
  that we find in Lovecraftian literature and published scenarios 
  and campaigns ultimately reveals the Mythos as the dark truth 
  behind the folklore: the “Green Man” of the woods is, in fact, a 
  chosen priest of Nyarlathotep; the redcaps or tommyknockers 
  who torment miners in Welsh coal mines are actually shape-
  shifting spawn from the black abyss of N’Kai; or the seemingly 
  innocent Harvest Festival offerings and activities in reality 
  empower a Shub-Niggurath cult. When the investigators look 
  more closely into the folklore, they garner clues about what is 
  really going on, ultimately locating the secret truth behind the 
  folk tradition.
  However common this approach is, it remains only one of a 
  number of possible relationships available to Keepers. When 
  considering the link between folklore and the Mythos, you 
  may wish to consider a number of different relationships that 
  can offer creative and novel possibilities for your scenarios, 
  including: where no real relationship exists, where the folklore 
  elements ‘serve’ the Mythos, where the folklore and Mythos 
  are one and the same, and where the folklore element is a 
  degenerative or ancestral representative of an original Mythos 
  element. All of these options are explored in more detail below, 
  but again this is by no means an exhaustive list, and Keepers 
  are encouraged to devise relationships to suit the stories they 
  want to tell. 
  No Relationship
  As noted earlier, a Keeper might decide to design a scenario 
  or campaign in which no real relationship exists between the 
  folklore and the Mythos. If, for example, folklore elements 
  are external to the Mythos plot or merely co-exist, running in 
  parallel to the Mythos story, then there may be no true link 
  or relationship between them. They may simply coincide. Or 
  perhaps the scenario is based solely around the investigation 
  of a folklore creature – say a mountain drake in Snowdonia, or 
  a series of folkloric events, perhaps some peculiar happenings 
  occurring in Uffmoor Wood during the winter solstice. 
  A suitably Lovecraftian folklore scenario need not contain any 
  Mythos elements: the folklore itself can be the central mystery 
  to be investigated and, with some investment, can be as grisly 
  and horrific as many Mythos encounters.
  In Call of Cthulhu games, elements—folklore-based or 
  otherwise—that bear no relationship to the central story are 
  most commonly used as distractions or red herrings. Folklore 
  is particularly useful as a distraction as it is possesses its own 
  sense of mystery and wonder, enough to pique the curiosity 
  of most player characters or at least be worthy of a look. Even 
  a relatively simple investigation can be made much more 
  complex and entertaining by adding in a few blind alleys and 
  some wild speculation for the characters to follow up. If the 
  investigators assume that every local folktale or drunken 
  Using Folklore in Call of Cthulhu Games
  
  18
  Folklore
  sighting is a clue to be followed up, then as long as it suits your 
  purpose, lead them on with ghost stories and tales of black 
  beasts that have nothing to do with the real mystery. 
  The Keeper can also use instances of folklore or red herrings 
  to unbalance and unsettle the investigators. If the local wise 
  woman presses a crude effigy of Pan into the hand of one of the 
  investigators and whispers that his or her soul is doomed, then 
  that player is going to suspect that something ghastly is going 
  to happen to him or her. Remember that festivals, towns, 
  and other environs heavily invested with folklore and strange 
  traditions can act as disquieting backdrops for investigations: 
  describe a city-wide festival where vast crowds pour into the 
  city streets wearing masks and dancing lewdly with open fires 
  lighting the night sky, and the investigators might well begin 
  to suspect everyone in the city of being a cultist or being under 
  some eldritch influence. Even traditions that seem silly in the 
  cold light of day, like Morris dancing or wearing fancy dress, 
  can be eerie in the right circumstances. 
  Servitor Relationship
  Here the folklore element in some way serves or reveres 
  the Mythos element. Folklore creatures, for example, might 
  worship or otherwise be in the service of a powerful Mythos 
  entity, or a folklore event might be used to secretly summon 
  or rouse an Outer God. Power plays an important part in such 
  relationships: normally the folklore element will be acting 
  from a position of relative weakness, seeking to do the bidding 
  of or satisfy the needs of the Mythos element. A coven of 
  witches in Brichester and Camside, for example, might serve 
  a group of Eihort’s brood. A colony of leprechauns could be 
  causing havoc in County Armagh in the name of a lesser Outer 
  God or a group of dwarves might be working alongside Tcho-
  tchos in the service of Chaugnar Faugn.
  The nature of the servitor role and what lengths the servitor will 
  go to achieve its master’s goals are important points to consider. 
  Outer Gods, Great Old Ones, and other major Mythos figures 
  will inspire, or demand, unflinching loyalty, but there may still 
  be lengths to which a druid, or even a hob, might not go. A very 
  interesting gameplay opportunity might arise if the characters 
  could find a means of convincing or coercing the servitor to quit 
  its service or switch sides. More usually, however, the servitors’ 
  loyalty would be unassailable, even unto death. 
  In the servitor role, the folklore element may also act as a 
  red herring, distracting the characters and inhibiting their 
  investigations, particularly if this is the will of their masters. 
  Keepers might wish to consider taking this red herring option 
  one step further, however, and having the servitor act as a 
  double-agent or mole within the investigators’ party, ever 
  trying to mislead them or bring about their destruction. A 
  seemingly well-meaning elf or gnome, for example, could 
  ingratiate itself, seeking to win the characters’ trust, whilst 
  secretly acting for its master. As ever, going against tradition 
  and undermining the players’ preconceptions can lead to 
  novel and memorable game experiences. 
  Integral Relationship
  In this relationship, the folklore element and the Mythos 
  element are integral to one another or are, in fact, one in the 
  same. The most common use of this relationship, and the one 
  used as a default in most of the entries in this book, is where 
  a folklore element is revealed as an aspect of the Cthulhu 
  Mythos. In essence, the Mythos entity is the true power 
  or primary antagonist lurking behind or masquerading as 
  folklore tradition. 
  An elaborate thanksgiving tradition, for instance, proves to 
  be a means of worshipping Dagon or Cthulhu, or a folklore 
  creature is ultimately exposed as a horrifying Mythos monster. 
  It is interesting to note that the “truth” of it can run either 
  way: the folklore element can be revealed as a Mythos element 
  or, more unusually, the Mythos element could be shown to be 
  a folklore element. Either way, the climax of the story should 
  integrate what is known with what is unknown to bring about 
  a new and terrible realisation.
  When taking this approach, the Keeper can either have the 
  folklore element in the foreground, or use it as a background 
  element to the main investigation. Take the tradition of 
  “need-fire,” a special sacrificial flame used in the Beltane 
  rites in Scotland. This fire can only be kindled by rubbing 
  wood together; once lit, the flames are said to be sacred and 
  purifying, and cattle were driven through the smoke from the 
  fire to protect them from disease. If the Keeper chooses to 
  use this folklore tradition in the foreground, then the need-
  fire could act as a periapt against disease or magically repel 
  supernatural creatures, and the investigators’ survival might 
  hinge on their ability to produce the need-fire at a critical 
  moment. Alternatively, and more dramatically, the need-fire 
  might actually form part of a summoning ritual for a particular 
  Mythos entity, perhaps a fire vampire or even Cyaegha. 
  If, on the other hand, the Keeper uses the need-fire as a 
  background element, then the characters may or may not 
  
  19
  encounter the folklore tradition as part of their investigations. 
  For example, the characters might be called in to investigate 
  a mysterious murder at an astronomical observatory in 
  Scotland. While the investigators are dealing with the scientific 
  trappings of modern telescopes and celestial mechanics, the 
  locals below follow their own, long-established traditions. In 
  the end, the investigators might discern an eerie connection 
  between the kindling of the need-fires and their own inquiries, 
  as if science and folklore are two halves of the same terrible 
  hidden truth.
  When developing an integral relationship in a scenario or 
  across a whole campaign, the Keeper should rely on ambiguity 
  in descriptions, never describing the folklore element with 
  absolute accuracy. Details such as statistics, special abilities, 
  and even the history or motivation behind the thing, whether 
  a monster, an individual, an event or an item, are best kept 
  behind the Keeper’s screen. 
  Remember that folklore is contradictory and multi-layered, 
  the work of many generations. Stories and tales are passed 
  down from parent to child, between families and cultures, and 
  always change along the way. Accounts are conflated with other 
  similar events, or changed to be more appropriate or pleasing 
  to the current audience. And so pagan gods are replaced by 
  Christian saints as old, half-forgotten stories are updated and 
  retold. Remember that what truth there is in folklore is usually 
  wrapped up in honest misunderstandings, imaginative re-
  tellings, and a lot of “creative licence.” 
  Rather than being a problem, the flexibility and fluidity of 
  meaning and truth work in our favour. The intermingling of 
  mystery, reality, and otherworldly elements in folklore provides 
  a gateway for the Mythos. In essence we can trade one unknown 
  (e.g. the potential existence of the Sidhe or Aos Sí) for another 
  unknown (e.g. the actual existence of the mi-Go or lloigor). This 
  blurring of folklore and Mythos allows us to interject serpent 
  people into Midlothian, deep ones into Cambridgeshire, flying 
  polyps into Devon, chthonian into Brecknockshire, ghouls into 
  County Down, and everything else in between. Wherever a 
  folktale or folk tradition will allow it, Keepers can incorporate 
  a suitable Mythos entity. And taking things one step further, 
  Keepers can design the folklore too.
  For the investigators, discerning the truth, if it even exists, 
  within all these many layers of myth, history, and retelling, 
  to get at the Mythos explanation at the deepest point, can be 
  as challenging as the Keeper chooses to make it. It could be 
  the scholarly work of a lifetime as one creeps ever closer to 
  the terrible reality of the matter, or a split-second realisation 
  when faced with a Mythos monster rather than a folklore 
  one, but no matter the time period the discovery should be as 
  dangerous to sanity as any other study of the Mythos.
  Ancestral or Degenerate Relationship
  An ancestral or degenerate relationship describes a situation 
  where the folklore element owes its origins to a Mythos element. 
  The folklore element—more likely a creature or individual in 
  this instance, although traditions, events, and even items are 
  possible—may or may not be a direct descendant, but can trace 
  its lineage back to the Mythos. Distant ancestors of original 
  Mythos creatures, for example, could appear as less powerful 
  versions of their forebears or they might be more independent, 
  no longer possessing a viable connection to their progenitors 
  or the wider Cthulhu Mythos.
  Distance and disconnection from the Mythos play a more 
  significant role in degenerate relationships where the folklore 
  element is far removed from, and may bear little resemblance 
  to, its Mythos forerunner. Inbreeding or hybridization could 
  result in a degenerate form of just about any Mythos species, 
  and are endemic practices in some cultures (e.g. deep ones). 
  Over time, truly degenerate varieties of Mythos creatures 
  might appear that share few of their ancestor’s traits and 
  even less of their power and potential. Additionally, these 
  strange adaptations might have adopted or developed mores 
  and traditions of their own, breaking off from the Mythos and 
  ultimately becoming part of folklore. 
  Similarly it is possible that any number of folklore items, 
  events, and traditions current in 1920s Britain have descended 
  from or degenerated from Mythos beginnings. A traditional 
  children’s nursery rhyme, for example, might be traced back 
  to a protective Mythos spell or a schoolyard taunt might once 
  have been a potent curse. Perhaps for the purpose of a scenario, 
  however, neither the rhyme nor the taunt possesses any real 
  power in the 1920s, having been corrupted and confused over 
  time, and become impotent degenerates of the original magic. 
  Any number of ancestral or degenerate links back to a Mythos 
  origin can be devised to imbue folklore elements with mystery 
  and horrific potency.
  A folklore site or location can also have an ancestral 
  relationship to a Mythos location of some significance. Many 
  of the stone circles that dot the British landscape could 
  themselves have been constructed and raised in imitation of 
  earlier, pre-human rings, thrown up to the surface when the 
  Using Folklore in Call of Cthulhu Games
  
  20
  Folklore
  seas rolled back and lands rose to the surface at the end of the 
  last Ice Age. These same seas that are now reclaiming Britain’s 
  coastline, inch by inch, year by year, may have swallowed 
  up most of the Mythos-born circles, but some of the original 
  eldritch stones may yet exist: buried in barrows or hidden in 
  plain sight, standing amongst the other stones, these obscure, 
  perhaps even magical, stones might still exert power over 
  nearby villages, partly explaining faint racial memories shared 
  amongst villagers whose strange behaviour has long gone 
  without any real explanation.
  A Final Word on Using Folklore
  In the sections to follow, an array of folklore elements, 
  plots, and options are provided. A book such as this 
  could never hope to encompass the depth and breadth of 
  folklore that exists in the whole of the United Kingdom 
  during the 1920s and neither should it intend to. Folklore 
  is, after all, a shifting, protean subject and one that is 
  open to a huge range of interpretations. As the Keeper, 
  what will matter most to your scenarios and campaigns 
  is your own interpretation of the folklore, your own 
  unique take on why it exists, what it means, and how it 
  relates to or affects the characters’ investigations.
  Within 
  these 
  pages 
  we 
  present 
  a 
  small, 
  but 
  representative, selection of British folklore and 
  gameplay options for you to consider. By all means if 
  a folklore tradition or creature you wish to use is not 
  represented in this book, then use the guidance here 
  to help bring it to life in your scenario or campaign. 
  Wherever possible, Keepers are strongly encouraged 
  to use and adapt the information herein to their own 
  ends: amend and augment what you find; ignore what 
  does not belong in your scenario; and build upon the 
  information presented to you. The investment of even a 
  few minutes to consider how a folklore element best fits 
  into your story can have significant benefits.
  Remember that with folklore there are few answers and 
  far more questions. Use that haziness and uncertainty 
  to your benefit and create unusual and novel situations 
  for your players. Enjoy the process and enjoy your 
  players’ reactions when faced with something that 
  skirts, or abandons altogether, the Lovecraftian norm 
  and Call of Cthulhu convention.
  
  Using Folk Magic in 
  Call of Cthulhu Games
  
  -Using Folk Magic in Call of Cthulhu Games-
  “What do we know… of the world and the universe about us? 
  Our means of receiving impressions are absurdly few, and 
  our notions of surrounding objects infinitely narrow. We 
  see things only as we are constructed to see them, and can 
  gain no idea of their absolute nature. With five feeble senses 
  we pretend to comprehend the boundlessly complex cosmos, 
  yet other beings with wider, stronger, or different range of 
  senses might not only see very differently the things we see, 
  but might see and study whole worlds of matter, energy, and 
  life which lie close at hand yet can never be detected with the 
  senses we have.”
  (Howard Phillips Lovecraft, From Beyond, 1934)
  F
  olklore and magic are often inseparable. Folk tales are full 
  of magical creatures, supernatural events, magic spells, 
  witches and magical creations. However, from one story to the 
  next, the use of magic and its effects are often contradictory: 
  bringing benefit or harm, existing invisibly or manifesting 
  spectacularly, with its outcomes ranging from insignificant to 
  miraculous. 
  The uses, effects, and indeed origins of magic in Lovecraft’s 
  writing are no less contradictory, leaving much open for 
  debate. Purist readers may argue that all magic in the Cthulhu 
  Mythos is driven by non-Euclidean physics, hyper-advanced 
  mathematics, and other alien sciences—being, in essence, 
  not magic at all, but seen as such through uninitiated human 
  eyes. Pulp readers, on the other hand, may be more inclined to 
  allow other magic traditions into the Lovecraftian mix.
  From its first edition, magic has always been a part of the Call 
  of Cthulhu roleplaying game and, as it has developed, more 
  and more earthly, traditional, or non-Mythos magic has been 
  incorporated. Different supplements and adventures have 
  introduced different flavours of magic: African tribal, Buddhist, 
  Daoist folk, Egyptian, Hermetic, Native American, Psychic, and 
  Voodoo, to name a few. The folk magic of Great Britain with its 
  roots calling back to Celtic, druidic, and shamanistic traditions 
  can be seen either as another school from this non-Mythos 
  camp or as a derivative of Mythos magic.
  Both options are presented below in greater detail. What 
  should be noted is that the use of folk magic remains open to 
  interpretation: its origins and requirements, its eldritch uses 
  and effects, who can use it and who cannot, are all points to 
  be contested and considered. Keepers will want to think about 
  how folk magic—if used at all—might add to or enhance their 
  stories. Just as with folklore, the nebulous and contradictory 
  nature of folk magic provides Keepers with absolute freedom 
  to create, shape, and direct the use of magic in their scenarios 
  and campaigns.
   - Folk Magic -
  as Derivative Mythos Magic
  This philosophy of folk magic suggests that it is wholly derived 
  from Mythos magic, from the unnatural laws and impossible 
  calculations understood and practised by the Outer Gods and 
  their alien servitors. Folk magic is expressly derivative in that 
  it does not possess the power or scope of true Mythos magic: 
  its connection to our reality and its imposed natural laws have 
  limited and altered the arcane structures of the magic itself, 
  diminishing it and reducing its potential. 
  Accordingly, folk magic spells, enchantments, and items 
  manifest more “natural” and bounded powers, functioning as 
  weak variants of their Mythos antecedents.
  Users of folk magic are likely unaware of its link to Mythos 
  magic. From a paradigmatic point of view, Mythos magic can be 
  seen as the epitome of scientific understanding, encompassing 
  all knowledge and the ability to manipulate matter and energy 
  on a universal and multi-dimensional scale. It expresses and 
  can act upon all universal truths: these are truths so vast, so 
  all-encompassing, and, to our minds, inconceivable that to 
  merely think on or gaze upon them reduces intelligent men 
  to mindless, gibbering shades. Folk magic then represents a 
  degenerate or vastly inferior paradigm of magic, which human 
  minds can grasp and utilise.
  22
  Folklore
  
  23
  How did the folk magic originate? The simplest possibility 
  is that Mythos magic taught to distant ancestors has become 
  diluted and been unwittingly reconfigured as it has passed from 
  culture to culture and person to person. Another possibility 
  is that folk magic has come about through generations of 
  experimentation, through a deadly process of trial and error. 
  If, for example, we see Mythos magic as essentially scientific 
  in scope, then some early shaman may have stumbled on some 
  elemental truth or theorem and refined it through the process 
  of experimentation, eventually learning to bend it to his will. 
  Over time, cautious magi may have learned more elements, 
  calculations, and theories, becoming very accomplished 
  sorcerers, while others drove themselves mad or died at the 
  hands of horrors inadvertently summoned. 
  Regardless of its actual origin, as a derivative of Mythos 
  magic, folk magic carries with it the same potential for sanity 
  loss, albeit less extensive. Sanity costs and penalties should be 
  reduced just as the scope and power of folk magic is reduced 
  from its Mythos predecessor. The dangers of cumulative SAN 
  loss remain as significant for witches and other folk magic 
  practitioners as it does for Mythos sorcerers. A weather 
  witch, for example, seeking to dispel a series of storm fronts 
  threatening her village’s crops might well end up raving from 
  “exertion” (repeated SAN loss).
  Given that folk magic is derivative, Keepers may wish to 
  consider creating different or variant instructions and 
  descriptions for folk spells. They can be as simple or elaborate 
  Derived Folk Magic Examples
  The Divining (Chant of Thoth derivative): use of this spell may help to increase the caster’s percentile chance to 
  divine an answer or gain insight into a specific intellectual problem. The spell costs 1 Sanity point and requires a 
  minimum of two hours of time in which the caster must continually chant or break the spell. Every magic point spent 
  in the chanting allows the caster to increase his or her chance of success by 1 percentile. For example, an investigator 
  trying to decode a Gaelic text could add 10 percentiles to his Language Other (Gaelic) roll provided he invested 10 magic 
  points while chanting for the two hours previous. A character might similarly choose to increase his or her chance to 
  learn a new spell, find significance in a piece of art, translate some ancient writing or otherwise gain knowledge from 
  some activity; however, The Divining will only help if the caster already has a minimum of 20% in the associated skill. 
  If the skill is below 20 percentiles, The Divining will not help.
  Elfland’s Blessing (Flesh Ward derivative): the Elfland’s Blessing protects casters against physical attacks. Each 
  casting costs 1D3 Sanity points and a variable number of magic points. Each point of magic invested provides the caster 
  or the spell’s target with 2 points of armour against non-magical attacks. Every point of physical damage reduces the 
  Blessing’s armour by the same amount: for example, if an investigator had invested 6 magic points to acquire 12 points 
  of armour, but was subsequently hit for 7 points of damage, the armour would be reduced by 7 points, leaving only 5 
  points remaining to absorb further attacks. Elfland’s Blessing must be cast at dawn’s first light, takes 15 minutes to cast, 
  and lasts until the following dawn or until the armour is used up. The spell may not be reinforced with further magic 
  points, but can be recast at the next dawn.
  Gods’ Stride (Create Gate derivative): by means of this spell the caster can travel between two locations (a single 
  entry point and a single exit point) instantly. The caster must know or have visited the location he or she intends to 
  travel to. The caster must define or “mark” the entry point, usually with a symbol drawn in blood or created from 
  stones. To open the connection to the exit point, the caster must permanently expend 1 point of POW for every 10 miles 
  of distance between the two points. For example, a caster wishing to pass between two points 70 miles apart would 
  need to permanently sacrifice 7 points of POW. The connection established, every passage between the two points costs 
  a number of magic points equal to the initial POW sacrificed (e.g. 7 magic points for 7 POW) and 1D4 Sanity points. 
  Arriving at the exit point, the caster must mark the exit point in a manner identical to the entry point. The return 
  journey exacts the same cost in magic points and Sanity. If the caster lacks the magic points, the journey cannot be 
  made. If passage requires all of the caster’s magic points, he or she will pass through but lose a further point of POW 
  in the process. 
  Using Folk Magic in Call of Cthulhu Games
  
  24
  Folklore
  as the Keeper wishes. A folk magic spell derived from the 
  Cthulhu Mythos spell Unmask Demon, for example, might 
  require the sacrifice of a hen in the centre of a circle of at least 
  8 chanting people. Or the folk version might insist that the 
  spell be cast at night, even a specific night or under a particular 
  phase of the moon, while the target is bound to a north-facing 
  standing stone in a circle of stones. 
  Similarly, folk magic derivatives will normally possess 
  different spell names than their Mythos progenitors. For 
  example, the folk magic derivative of Unmask Demon might 
  be called Reveal True Form or, more dramatically, Pull Back 
  the Veil of Night. 
  A derivative and much diminished version of the Create 
  Gate spell might be called Devil’s Breach or Gods’ Stride and 
  travelling by such means might be known as “walking out of 
  Time” or “taking the Fairy Road.” Call / Dismiss or Summon / 
  Bind combinations are among the least likely of spells to have 
  a folk magic derivative; however, if a Keeper wished to include 
  a weak version of such a spell, the title of the summoning spell 
  might be modified to something such as Night’s Black Wings 
  (Summon / Bind Byakhee) or Song of the Green Man (Call / 
  Dismiss Nyarlathotep).
  - Folk Magic -
  as Non-Mythos Magic
  This philosophy of folk magic suggests that magic has 
  developed out of human cultural beliefs, practices, and 
  traditions. It is a non-derivative perversion of the same 
  universal dynamics used by the Cthulhu Mythos, but is 
  uniquely human and earthly in origin and context. This version 
  of folk magic might originate from the base manipulation of 
  natural laws and earthly energies or in the interrelation of 
  psychic and spiritual domains and powers, but regardless 
  it is not recognised or practised by Mythos entities: it is as 
  alien to them as they are to us. The purist out there might still 
  argue that non-Euclidean dynamics lie behind it all, but from 
  a gameplay point of view this folk magic has no perspicuous 
  association with, or clear relationship to, the Mythos.
  In comparison to true Mythos magic, this aberrant magic 
  is crude, limited, and unsophisticated, yet it manages to 
  manipulate earthly elements, objects, and beings, and can 
  even have an effect on Mythos creatures. An analogy informing 
  the difference between Mythos magic and non-Mythos folk 
  magic might be drawn from the difference between modern 
  pharmacology and homeopathy: the one is based on cutting-
  edge science and a highly evolved, highly specialised practice, 
  while the other is based on cultural traditions and its practice 
  is based on little or limited understanding of the underlying 
  principles. Examples of such folk magic have appeared in 
  many Call of Cthulhu publications, including The Masks of 
  Nyarlathotep, Miskatonic University, The Secrets of New 
  Orleans, and Cthulhu Dark Ages. 
  The scope of this non-Mythos magic is, by its nature, largely 
  terrestrial and to a significantly lesser extent spiritual or 
  psychic. The primary focus of most spells is on producing 
  change in the real world in accordance to human motivations: 
  gaining power, acquiring wealth, communicating with others, 
  avoiding injury or death, controlling or affecting others, and, 
  to a lesser extent, manipulating the elements, contacting the 
  spirit world, etc. Unlike Mythos magic, this quintessentially 
  human magic does not require opening one’s mind to the 
  eldritch sciences and alien realities inherent in the Cthulhu 
  Mythos.  As a result, learning, understanding, and practising 
  folk magic should, in theory, result in considerably less Sanity 
  loss than trying to reconcile the mind-shattering revelations 
  and calculations common to Mythos magic. Nonetheless, 
  there is always a price to pay. 
  When creating novel folk magic spells, particularly if your 
  scenario or campaign will be shared or published, consider 
  providing a proper description for the spell, which includes 
  its name or title, a brief description of the form it takes and 
  its effects, all requirements, and any special rules that apply. 
  Remember to highlight the cost of using the folk magic, both 
  in terms of magic points and in the potential for Sanity loss. 
  Lastly, Keepers should remember to keep folk magic bounded 
  in human tradition and experience, taking care not to create 
  spells that are overly powerful or grand in scale and scope. 
  That said, even if Mythos magic is the real power in the 
  universe, folk magic can still work wonders and produce 
  powerful effects.
  There are, of course, no limitations where the Keeper’s 
  imagination is concerned. Folk magic can have aspects 
  and powers both wondrous and terrifying, favourable and 
  disadvantageous. What matters most is that it adds to the 
  gaming experience, for good or ill. A few examples are included 
  here to provide flavour or act as a precedent.
  
  25
  Beast Bane: by means of this spell the caster may 
  unnerve and / or produce fear in any animal, irrespective 
  of its size or intelligence. The spell requires four rounds 
  to cast and costs one Sanity point, plus a variable number 
  of magic points. During the casting, a clear line of sight 
  must exist between the caster and the targeted animal; 
  after that point the spell functions regardless of line of 
  sight. For every magic point sacrificed, the caster can 
  cause a number of animals equal to the magic points 
  spent to become unsettled or fearful: cats will hiss or flee, 
  dogs will whine and back away, horses will bray and buck, 
  potentially dismounting riders, etc. This activity will 
  continue until the caster has vacated the immediate area, 
  the animal has escaped the immediate area, or until the 
  caster releases the animal(s), whichever comes first.
  Winter’s Heart: Winter’s Heart allows the caster to 
  reduce the ambient temperature of a designated area. The 
  spell costs a variable number of magic points (determining 
  temperature) and Sanity points (determining area of 
  effect). Casting the spell takes 10 rounds and requires the 
  caster to hold a small branch or sprig of an evergreen tree 
  in his or her left hand. 
  The spell lasts as long as the caster keeps the evergreen 
  branch on his or her person, to a maximum of 24 
  hours. Each magic point sacrificed reduces the ambient 
  temperature in the specified area by 1D4 degrees. 
  For example, sacrificing 5 magic points would reduce the 
  ambient temperature by 5D4 degrees, averaging a 12-13 
  degree temperature drop. The area of effect directly affects 
  Sanity loss. The initial casting costs 1 point of Sanity and 
  creates an area of effect roughly equivalent to 10 cubic 
  feet. With considerable mental strain, this chilling effect 
  can be pushed beyond this 10 foot cubed boundary. The 
  initial area of effect can be expanded exponentially at 
  the cost of 1D4 points of Sanity per exponential increase 
  (e.g. extending the area of effect to 100 cubic feet costs 
  the initial 1 point of SAN and a further 1D4 SAN, or 
  1D4+1; expanding the original area to 1,000 cubic feet 
  costs 2D4+1 SAN; 10,000 cubic feet costs 3D4+1 SAN; 
  and so on). A significant expenditure in both SAN and 
  magic points could envelop an entire village in sub-zero 
  temperatures at the height of summer. 
  The Service of Owls: this spell allows the caster to 
  shape-shift into the form of an owl, acquiring all of its 
  physical qualities and abilities, including night vision and 
  sustained flight. 
  The caster’s consciousness remains unaffected. 
  The Service of Owls must be cast after sunset 
  in a forest or suitably wooded area. The spell 
  requires the expenditure of 10 magic points and 
  costs 1d6+1 Sanity points. The spell lasts until the 
  caster returns to a similarly wooded location and 
  chooses to return to his or her own form. However, 
  prolonged shape-shifting, for more than one day, 
  slowly degrades Sanity at a rate of 1 point per hour 
  beyond 24 hours.
   Non-Mythos Folk Magic Examples
  Using Folk Magic in Call of Cthulhu Games
  
  26
  Folklore
   
  An Alternative to Folk Magic 
  Not all magic need be genuine. Not every spell needs to stem from the Cthulhu Mythos or some arcane human tradition. 
  Magicians and charlatans the world over have long been trading on peoples’ willingness to believe in magic, but that 
  isn’t to say that parlour tricks and snake oil can’t have real effects upon those who believe or suspect there might be 
  a grain of truth behind it all. This sort of “placebo” or psychosomatic magic is clearly the result of human psychology, 
  and peoples’ willingness to believe what they wish or desire to be true, rather than otherworldly powers. That does not 
  mean it is without real power.
  Imagine a situation where a maligned witch lays a potent curse upon a character or where the party is made aware of 
  a superstition that means taking a particular action will bring about their deaths: would those characters dismiss the 
  curse or superstition as errant foolishness or might they worry just a little bit? Perhaps more than just a little bit? Even 
  a moment’s nagging doubt gives some power to the notion. Now imagine what it might mean to a character who takes 
  folk traditions to heart: how might that character react to a witch’s curse or deadly superstition?
  The point here is that the human mind can make the unreal real and give it the power to effect real change. An 
  individual character’s conception of magic and their belief systems are the engines that drive this possibility. Keepers 
  interested in using this belief mechanic will find a brief framework for using beliefs in Call of Cthulhu below.
  Belief Mechanics
  Every character has belief systems of their own that can aid or hinder them in certain situations. A devoutly Christian 
  character, for example, might react strongly to a blessing given to them by the local priest. This blessing might inspire 
  the character, giving them hope and the confidence to proceed in a difficult task ahead; indeed, the blessing might, on 
  some small level or to a great extent, make the characters more effective in their designated task. 
  That same character would be likely to scoff at an African witch doctor’s claims of being able to heal the sick, but might 
  be genuinely unsettled by the demonic blasphemies chanted by a Satanic cult and feel sickened or even frightened.
  In each situation, it is the character’s belief that produces a reaction, a real world result. Determine whether or not an 
  effect appears (indicated by a success) on the Resistance Table using:
  • 
  Caster’s POW plus character’s POW versus character’s INT, where the character’s beliefs are in accordance with 
  the magic;
  • 
  Caster’s POW versus character’s INT, where the character’s response is neutral; or,
  • 
  Caster’s POW versus character’s POW plus INT, where the character’s beliefs are opposed to the magic.
  Example Effects
  • 
  +/- 1D6 percentiles to rolls in a particular skill category for 24 hours
  • 
  +/- 1D2 points of SAN
  • 
  Healing of one more or one fewer Hit Point in 24 hours
  • 
  +/- 1D10 percentiles to Luck rolls for 24 hours.
  
  27
  - Folk Medicine -
  “Cha’n eil euslainte gun ioc-shlainte, agus cha’n eil tilleadh 
  air a bhas.” 
  (Gaelic proverb: “There’s no disease without a remedy, and 
  there’s no turning back of death.”)
  Every different culture creates its own folk medicine, 
  developing traditions and practices for healing the body, 
  mind, and spirit. Folk medicine is often a practice handed 
  down, performed, and built upon by a specific member of a 
  society (e.g. shamans, witch doctors, etc.) or associated with 
  a particular group (e.g. witches, wise women, etc.). Folk 
  medicine is not magical, although it might bear the trappings 
  of various thaumaturgies, and does not require magic points 
  nor incur Sanity loss; rather, folk medicine functions as a skill. 
  Indeed, investigators who learn from medicine men or folk 
  healers might learn enough of this art to justify the creation of 
  a Folk Medicine skill.
  Folk medicine essentially requires two things: knowledge 
  or practical experience of applying the medicine, and the 
  medicine itself. The composition of folk medicines varies from 
  culture to culture and their creation obviously requires access 
  to the right materials.
  Examples of British Folk Medicine
  Healing Balm – A balm that aids in the regeneration of hit 
  points, reducing healing times. Extract the oil from slow-
  boiled flax seeds and mix it into the powdered bark of a 
  slippery elm tree, continuing until you have enough to cover 
  the affected area. Collect and wash a white cabbage, and 
  remove individual leaves taking time to crack any veins or 
  ridges present in the leaf. Gently rub the oil-bark mixture 
  onto the wound and place the cracked cabbage leaves over 
  top, pressing down gently. Remove the white cabbage leaf 
  when it becomes soiled or hot to the touch, replacing it with 
  a similarly prepared, fresh leaf. 
  Do this until the entire cabbage has been used up. Afterward, 
  protect the affected area and let the oil-bark mixture create 
  a crust over the wound. Repeat daily. Successful application 
  doubles natural healing rates.
  Coughing Bag – A traditional cure for coughs (e.g. whooping 
  cough, colds, catarrh, etc.). Fill a small, fine cotton or muslin 
  bag with the cooked, dried meat of two female crows. Add a 
  spoonful of honey and a handful of live spiders to the bag and 
  seal it tightly. Require that the target wears the bag at all times 
  and rests as much as possible for the next 72 hours. Speeds 
  recovery from coughs and colds.
  Cure for The Shaking – A cure for epilepsy and other fits. 
  Collect clippings from the target’s fingernails and toenails 
  carefully wrapped in white cotton and mark it with the sign of 
  a cross. Place the cotton wrap under the wing of a large black 
  fowl and carry the bird to the place where the target had a fit 
  (preferably the first fit). The fowl must be buried by the eldest 
  and most pious man in the county, who must also then spend 
  the night in the same place with a fire made from oak kindling. 
  If the cure doesn’t take, the target must drink water from the 
  skull of a suicide after each fit until the seizures cease. Cures 
  most fits and convulsions.
  Using Folk Magic in Call of Cthulhu Games
  
   
  A Folklore Bestiary
  
  - A Folklore Bestiary -
  “I felt flattered at having my folklore study taken so 
  seriously, and did what I could to belittle the wild, vague 
  tales which seemed so clearly an outgrowth of old rustic 
  superstitions. It amused me to find several persons of 
  education who insisted that some stratum of obscure, 
  distorted fact might underlie the rumors.”
  (Howard Phillips Lovecraft, 
  The Whisperer in Darkness, 1931)
  T
  his folklore bestiary focuses on the most common spirits, 
  monsters, creatures, and peoples discussed or encountered 
  in 1920s Britain, looking at their motivations, their Mythos 
  connections, and providing statistics for incorporating such 
  creatures in play. There is not space enough in this single tome 
  to cover the myriad, variable and different representations 
  of each and every one of the folklore beings to be found in 
  the British Isles in the 1920s; instead, this section provides 
  descriptions of common classes of creatures (e.g. Spirits and 
  Ghosts, Fairy Folk, etc.) in enough detail to allow Keepers to 
  consider how to most effectively introduce them into new or 
  published scenarios and campaigns.
  Fairy Folk
   Aos Sí, Daoine Sith, Fae, Fairy, Fey, Gwyllion, 
  Pillywiggins, Pixie, Seelie, Sidhe, Sprite, Trow, Unseelie
  “We were ere mortals had their birth, And long have watched 
  the growing day;
  The light now beams upon the earth, And warns us that we 
  must away.”
  (Traditional Irish poem excerpt)
  The fairy folk of Great Britain are numerous indeed. Much of 
  the landscape of the United Kingdom has some link or tie to 
  their timeless cultures and traditions. It is believed that the 
  fairies descend from pre-human gods or goddesses of nature 
  or from other powerful, natural spirits. They are variously 
  known to live underground, ‘over the water’ or across seas, or 
  in a coexisting, parallel dimension invisible to humans. They 
  are often known simply as “The Folk” or “Fair folk”. 
  The majority of British fairies live underground in great halls, 
  commonly beneath dunes, hillocks, and other mounds, and 
  have little to do with humans. Their subterranean world can 
  be accessed through caves, hollowed out trees, and via other 
  natural ‘fairy holes’. Destruction of their homes and entrances 
  is a sure-fire way to incur their anger. Their halls are said to 
  be full of all that is good on Earth: the best food and drink; 
  an abundance of gold and precious gems; well-crafted musical 
  instruments of all manner; and beautiful garments imbued 
  with nature’s finest colours. 
  Indeed, British fairies seem to lack only one thing: milk. 
  Offerings of milk or oatmeal are amongst the best ways to 
  secure their help or appease their anger.
  Fairies (excepting the hateful Unseelie) are generally helpful 
  and friendly, and considered good neighbours, but they prove 
  vengeful tricksters to those that insult or harm them. They are 
  especially fond of dancing and their spirited nightly dances 
  sometimes leave behind circular fairy rings in the grass. They 
  love music and are often particularly fond of traditional and 
  regional music (e.g. harp, flute, and whistle music in Wales 
  and England or fiddle, pipes, and accordion music in Ireland 
  and Scotland). So enamoured of folk musicians are they that 
  fairies will often try to tempt them underground or outright 
  kidnap them. 
   
  Stories 
  of 
  fairy 
  changelings 
  are 
  relatively 
  common 
  throughout the British Isles. For reasons both fantastic and 
  unfathomable, fairies occasionally kidnap human children 
  and adults and replace them with “changelings”: often ugly 
  or unwanted kin, or even enchanted dolls. Sometimes the 
  changelings are discovered and an exchange is negotiated 
  to return the changelings back, but a particularly effective 
  changeling might remain undiscovered. Less commonly, 
  fairies marry into human families on occasion and are 
  prized for their striking beauty or otherworldly qualities and 
  abilities.
  All fairy folk are known to be dwindling in number with the 
  ascendancy of mankind and tales of them are becoming less 
  numerous as their halls grow deserted and their music departs 
  this world.
  A Folklore Bestiary
  29
  
  30
  Folklore
  Motivation
  The motivations of the fairy folk are as varied as their number 
  and kind. Few of the “fair folk” are keen on interacting with 
  humans, preferring to keep to themselves, living and working 
  in their underground halls. Many have become disenchanted 
  with the world of men and limits imposed by mankind on the 
  natural world. As a result, ever increasing numbers are fading 
  away from contact and leaving for lands, dimensions, and 
  worlds that men cannot invade and destroy.
  Those who do choose to stay and live alongside humans 
  are generally peaceful, motivated by their own desires to be 
  helpful, to protect or enliven the natural world, or to cultivate 
  beauty as they see it in nature, art, music, or dance. Virtually 
  all fairy folk are tricksters to one extent or another, being 
  overly fond of pranks and little mischiefs. Usually there is 
  no harm intended in their playful machinations: it is done 
  for amusement alone. The actions of the dark Unseelie are 
  an exception, however, and are largely motivated by hatred, 
  Fairy Folk, Generic Statistics
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  STR
  1D4+2
  4–5
  CON
  3D6
  10–11
  SIZ
  1D6
  3–4
  INT
  3D6
  10–11
  POW
  3D6+2
  14–15
  DEX
  3D6+6
  16–17
  HP
  6–7
  Move: 5 (10 in flight, see Special Ability below) 
  Damage Bonus: -1D6
  Skills: Sneak 60%, Spot Hidden 40%, and others as the 
  Keeper desires
  Weapons: Claws 35%, damage 1D6+db
  Small Blade 25%, damage 1D4
  Armour: N/A, or as the Keeper desires
  Spells: 1D6 folk magic spells, or more at the Keeper’s 
  discretion
  Number appearing: 1D3 wandering; 3D6 in their 
  underground halls
  Sanity Loss: 1 / 1D4
  Appearance: Small, thin and fond of wearing earthy, 
  natural colours, the faerie folk appear as exceptionally 
  diminutive humans, but possess an alluring, otherworldly 
  or magical quality which manifests differently for each 
  individual. Apart from an unnatural slenderness and a 
  propensity for oddly shaped ears and noses, the faeries are 
  exceptionally attractive, often possessing especially striking 
  eyes in colours normally not observed in humans.
  Special Ability: Flight – In British folk tradition, most fae 
  creatures do not possess wings, but for those Keepers who 
  wish to grace them with gossamer wings or the power of flight 
  a movement statistic for this has been included above.
  
  31
  malevolence, and a desire to harm or bring 
  hurt to humans. Their anger may stem from 
  some ancient offence or insult, or from the 
  encroachment of human civilization on 
  their protected lands, but regardless of its 
  origins, the Unseelie will almost always act 
  violently towards humans. 
  Mythos Connections
  It may well be that the fairy folk have 
  no more connection to the Mythos than 
  humans, that they are in fact subject to the 
  same horror when learning of these alien 
  terrors out of space and time. If so, they 
  might be more inclined to help investigators 
  who seek to rid the world, and especially 
  their fairy homes and lands, of Mythos 
  threats. However, it is just as likely that 
  the fairy folk are aware of the Mythos and are either neutrally 
  disposed to them or are, in fact, allied in some way to the dark 
  horrors. One of the most plausible connections exists in the fairy 
  folk in question having been influenced, cajoled, or threatened 
  into serving a Mythos entity.
  Alternatively, the fae might be acting as worshippers and 
  servitors of the Green Man or the Great God Pan. Or perhaps 
  they have joined a cult worshipping Shub-Niggurath, 
  believing that their devotion and sacrifice will restore balance 
  to the natural world. The black-hearted Unseelie might ally 
  themselves with any malevolent entity who seeks to unbalance 
  or destroy the world of men.
  Sea Folk
   Asrai, Mermaid, Merrow, Selkie, Trow
  “I am a man upon the land, I am a silkie in the sea;
  And when I’m far frae every strand, My home it is in Sule 
  Skerry.”
  (Traditional folk song, The Great Silkie of Sule Skerry)
  Many folk tales exist in Great Britain relating to mermaids 
  and similar sea-going creatures. They are especially plentiful 
  along England’s southern coast, in Northern Ireland, and 
  throughout the north of Scotland. Numerous historical 
  accounts attest to the existence of the sea folk inhabiting the 
  waters and coastlines of the British Isles. The forms they take 
  vary, with many manifesting some physical qualities or aspects 
  of sea life, or possessing the ability to bodily shape-shift into 
  a suitable aquatic form. Trows of Shetland, for example, who 
  possess many qualities similar to fairy folk, are known to be 
  able to shape-shift into seals. Selkies similarly adopt human 
  form, shedding their seal skin to walk on land, but later 
  resume their seal form when returning to the coastal waters.
  Beyond the power to shape-shift, many mermaids and other 
  sea folk are believed to be able to foretell the future and to 
  grant great wealth (usually in the form of gold or rare gems) 
  or supernatural powers to humans. But many who make deals 
  with the sea folk come to a bad end. This is not always the case, 
  however, and some are more fortunate than others in folk tales. 
  More generally, selkies, trows, and asrai are portrayed as kind 
  and helpful, but fond of pranks. Again like the fair folk, most sea 
  folk are strikingly beautiful or handsome. Stories from around 
  Great Britain tell of sea folk falling in love with humans and 
  eventually marrying them. Again, however, this does not always 
  end well, with most sea folk ultimately being drawn back to the 
  deep and leaving their mates lonely and desolate.
  Other tales tell darker stories involving the sea folk 
  imprisoning, kidnapping, or drowning humans. But common 
  to all the tales is the desire amongst sea folk to interact—in 
  one way or another—with those on land, perhaps suggesting a 
  common ancestral heritage or long forgotten history. 
  Motivation
  The motivations of the sea folk are largely individualistic. 
  The ties of culture and brotherhood are especially weak 
  among these free-willed, ocean-born peoples. They frequently 
  interact with humans for their own entertainment or personal 
  A Folklore Bestiary
  
  32
  Folklore
  gain, even to the point of seeking regular communion with, or 
  marriage into, human settlements. Though drawn to humans, 
  the pull of the sea is usually the greater of the two attractions 
  and most sea folk/human relationships end with the mermaid 
  or selkie returning to the ocean at last.
  Not all interactions amongst humans and the sea folk are as 
  profitable or positive. There are those among these ocean-
  going peoples who take a more violent approach to their 
  dealings with mankind. An unintended slight, a reproach of 
  some kind, or a spurned advance could lead to a vengeful 
  trow or merrow kidnapping or even drowning the person 
  responsible. Lastly, somewhere between the poles of positive 
  and negative motivations, the sea folk, like their fae kin, are 
  fond of pranks and get particular enjoyment from playing 
  tricks on witless humans.
  Mythos Connection
  The sea folk are free spirits by nature and generally shun 
  community on any large scale. Connections to the Mythos 
  are likely to be decided on an individual basis rather than 
  on a societal or cultural scale. The sea folk are most likely to 
  ally with deep ones and worship Dagon or Cthulhu, but their 
  natures would often work against organised efforts against 
  mankind. They may more often be employed individually to 
  ensnare or kidnap humans. Alternatively, the sea folk might 
  align themselves with the Lord of the Great Abyss, the elder 
  god Nodens. In this case, they will usually act kindly to 
  humans and be helpful wherever possible, especially if it is to 
  benefit someone who is, or has been, persecuted by Great Old 
  Ones or Nyarlathotep. Again, it is most likely that the sea folk 
  will choose to aid Nodens individually rather than in groups 
  and only under the most extraordinary circumstances would 
  they willingly congregate and function as a team.
  Little Folk
  Bean-Tighe, Bluecap, Boggart, Bogie, Bogle, Brownie, Bwbach, Bwca, 
  Claurichan, Cofgod, Dwarf, Elf, Fenoderee, Ghillie Dhu, Gnome, Goblin, 
  Gremlin, Hob, Imp, Leprechaun, Lutin, Knocker, Oschaert, Pixie, Pooka, Pwca, 
  Puck, Redcap, Shellycoat, Spriggan
  “In a shady nook one moonlight night, A leprechaun I spied
  With scarlet coat and cap of green, A cruiskeen by his side
  Twas tick tack tick his hammer went, Upon a weeny shoe
  And I laughed to think of a purse of gold, But the fairy was 
  laughing too.”
  (Robert Dwyer Joyce, The Leprechaun, c. 1860)
  By far the most numerous class of folklore creature, little folk 
  are to be found in every corner of the British Isles. Unlike the 
  fairy folk and sea folk, these little people often live in close 
  proximity to humans and many of them (such as elves, bwca, 
  Sea Folk, Generic Statistics
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  STR
  3D6
  10–11
  CON
  4D6
  14
  SIZ
  3D6
  10–11
  INT
  2D6+6
  13
  POW
  3D6
  10–11
  DEX
  3D6+2
  12–13
  HP
  12
  Move: 8 / 12 (walking / swimming)
  Damage Bonus: +0
  Skills: Hide in Water 45%, Listen 30%, Navigation 45%, 
  Sneak in Water 55%, Spot Hidden 40%, Track in Water 30%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 35%, damage 1D4+db
  Bash (underwater) 55%, damage 1D6+db
  Armour: In sea form, 1-point toughened skin and scales 
  or blubber
  Spells: Shape Shifting, or others at the Keeper’s discretion
  Number appearing: 1 wandering; 1D3 in communal 
  grottos
  Sanity Loss: 1 / 1D4 in sea form, unless it is that of a 
  normal seal or other natural, aquatic life form; 1D4 / 2D4 
  to witness the sea folk shift shape
  Appearance: In sea form, these folk take on shapes 
  specific to their species: trows and selkies appear as seals; 
  mermaids and merrows as beautiful women with long, 
  fish-like tails; and asrai, who have but one form, appear as 
  diminutive women possessing webbed hands or feet, but 
  being extraordinarily striking. In human form, the sea folk 
  are invariably attractive, whether male or female—the only 
  exception being the male merrow, which is horribly ugly 
  and fish-like in appearance. Sea folk normally have long, 
  wavy hair, fine features, and larger-than-average eyes, but 
  otherwise appear as normal humans.  
  
  33
  gnomes, boggarts, brownies, etc.) willingly share human 
  accommodation. The one feature that is common to nearly 
  all of the little folk is their ability to work prodigiously. When 
  given or adopting tasks (e.g. cleaning a house, mending a 
  stone wall, general farm work, etc.), little folk are capable of 
  completing these tasks far faster—and often far better—than 
  human beings. For their helpful qualities, many little people 
  are actually welcomed into peoples’ homes.
  Should they be treated with respect and given the right 
  offerings, the little folk will stay and do work that needs 
  doing. Offerings commonly take the form of milk, oats, and 
  cakes, or sometimes a portion of whatever is placed on the 
  table that evening. Most little people will not take direction, 
  but will complete tasks overheard or that one person 
  describes to another as worrisome, vexing, or overly difficult. 
  Helpful though they be, the little folk are also notoriously 
  temperamental. If they are mistreated, perceive a word or 
  deed as an insult, or do not receive their proper offerings, 
  the little people will usually turn on the humans responsible, 
  becoming bothersome rather than helpful, playing evil pranks, 
  or exacting some terrible revenge. 
  Of course, some of the little folk, especially those who live 
  out of doors or shun human company, are naturally more 
  antagonistic in their attitude towards the “big folk”. It 
  is difficult to say if any of the little folk are purely evil or 
  purely good: like human beings, they seem to embody both 
  aspects to some greater or lesser extent. Many pooka, bogles, 
  ghillie dhus, and shellycoats, for example, are primarily evil 
  or at least bad tempered. The more mysterious redcaps, 
  bluecaps, knockers, dwarves, and spriggans likewise often 
  appear to be maliciously inclined. However, for each of these 
  beings, there exist tales of them being kind or charitable 
  in certain circumstances. The ghillie dhu, for example, will 
  often gleefully waylay travellers, seeking to get them lost 
  in a dark wood, but many folk tales recount that if a ghillie 
  dhu encounters a lost child, it will do the child no harm and 
  often will return the boy or girl to its parents. (Note: the 
  derivative, goblinoid “little people” described in Chaosium’s 
  Miskatonic University sourcebook and originating in an 
  earlier Keith Herber scenario entitled “The Little People” are 
  more universally evil and less representative of the little folk 
  common to British folklore.)
  The majority of little folk are less than three feet in height 
  and many are considerably smaller. They come in all shapes 
  and guises, but typically possess looks and forms that humans 
  associate with older people: weathered skin, bulbous noses, 
  arched backs, large ears, etc. The more wicked among them 
  are described as having crooked or devilish features, complete 
  with predatory smiles and glinting or glowing eyes. While 
  individually a little person might not pose much of a threat, 
  when they arrive in groups, sometimes akin to small armies, 
  they can pose a significant challenge for all but the most skilled 
  groups of investigators. A great many of the little folk possess 
  some magical skill, or alternatively skills that appear as magic 
  to human beings. They are likely to torment those who insult 
  them and seek vengeance in cases where they or one of their 
  kind has been harmed or killed.
  Motivation
  What motivates individual little folk is largely a mystery. 
  Why they choose to live with humans and do housework or 
  protect farm animals is unknown. Why others actively seek 
  to confuse, harm, or kill humans is again unknown. Thus, 
  Keepers can attribute virtually any motivation to the little 
  people in designed scenarios and campaigns. Generalisations 
  such as little folk acting kindly towards humans whose 
  habitation they share (until slighted) or individuals who 
  inhabit woods acting aggressively or antagonistically 
  towards humans need not necessarily apply. As many folk 
  tales themselves reveal, the little folk are wildly inconsistent 
  in their intentions and actions.
  Mythos Connection
  Again concerning how or why little folk might work for 
  or ally themselves with Mythos entities, the Keeper has 
  absolute freedom to construct plausible explanations and 
  connections. While certain little people seem more likely to 
  serve as agents of Mythos race or worshippers of the Outer 
  Gods (e.g. boggarts or spriggans), there is no reason why 
  even a seemingly benevolent bean-tighe or cofgod might not 
  act as a servitor to some dark influence. Despite appearing 
  as a diminutive, old woman who kindly looks after flocks 
  of sheep, for example, a bean-tighe might act as a spy for a 
  Tsathoggua or Cyogha cult or more actively interfere in the 
  plans of the investigators.
  On a greater level, a group of little folk might themselves form 
  a cult or work alongside a human cult. In this case, the little 
  people could present a more serious threat to the investigators 
  and their investigations. A group of demonic imps, for 
  example, serving Nyarlathotep might harass and torment the 
  investigators walking through darkened city streets or bar their 
  entry into a crypt or burial mound.  Alternatively, a veritable 
  flood of knockers in an Irish or Welsh mine might drag the 
  poor investigators down into an impenetrable darkness from 
  which there is no escape.
  A Folklore Bestiary
  
  34
  Folklore
  Little Folk, Generic Statistics
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  STR
  1D6
  3–4
  CON
  2D6
  7
  SIZ
  1D6+1
  4
  INT
  2D6
  7
  POW
  3D6
  10–11
  DEX
  3D6
  10–11
  HP
  5–6
  Move: 6
  Damage Bonus: -1D6
  Skills: Hide 65%, History 30%, Listen 50%, Sneak 55%, 
  Spot Hidden 40%, and others as the Keeper desires
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 40%, damage 1D2
  Knife or Club 35%, damage 1D4
  Armour: 1-point effective armour due to their size
  Spells: 1D4 folk magic spells, or more at the Keeper’s 
  discretion
  Number appearing: 1 wandering; 3D8 when 
  congregating
  Sanity Loss: 0 / 1D3 normally; 1 / 1D6 if especially small 
  or grotesque
  Appearance: The little people appear as especially small 
  humans or grotesque humanoids, normally under three 
  feet in height. They vary in appearance as much as humans 
  do; however, they often appear as older persons to human 
  eyes. A few types of little people are considerably more 
  frightening in aspect, looking more devilish or goblinoid, 
  having cat-like eyes, pointed ears, great wide noses, and 
  / or jagged teeth. Those that wear clothing wear whatever 
  colours they like, although redcaps and bluecaps have 
  obvious predilections for red and blue, respectively.
  
  35
  Big Folk
  Big Grey Man of Ben Macdui, Cailleach, Famhair, Foawr, Giant, 
  Ogre, Troll, Trow, “True” Giant, Water Ogress
  “Wonder I very much do, Tom Noddy, If ever, when you are 
  aroam,
  An Ogre from space, will stoop a lean face, And lug you home…
  And hang you up stiff on a hook, Tom Noddy, From a stone-
  cold pantry shelf,
  Whence your eyes will glare in an empty stare, Until you are 
  cook’d yourself!”
  (Walter de la Mare, Tit for Tat, 1928)
  Encounters with the giants, ogres, and other big folk of Britain 
  are extraordinarily rare in the 1920s and, indeed, it is believed 
  that few of their kind remain active or alive in the British 
  Isles. Most of the big folk currently inhabiting the United 
  Kingdom dwell in mountain caves, sea caverns, or other 
  natural strongholds, and they range in size from being twice 
  the height and breadth of an average man to truly gargantuan 
  proportions where individuals resemble mountains and can 
  shape the landscape with their massive hands. While some 
  recent tales tell of the former, few if any of the latter have 
  been seen for hundreds of years. Most believe that the largest 
  of Britain’s “true” giants have passed on now or lie sleeping 
  in the various mountain ranges found in England, Wales, 
  Scotland, and particularly Northern Ireland—often mistaken 
  for mountains themselves.
  Those that remain are collectively renowned for their foul 
  tempers, their greediness, and their taste for human flesh. 
  Human interactions with big folk tend to be short and deadly, 
  with the humans more often than not ending up serving as a 
  quick meal. However, killing humans is often more trouble for 
  the big folk than it is worth, and so most have taken to killing 
  and eating sheep or cattle. Indeed, the selective disappearance 
  of livestock or the sudden appearance of a vast quantity 
  of gnawed, large animal bones are the two most common 
  indicators of nearby big folk activity. Another common 
  indicator is the appearance of huge stones or balls of ice where 
  they ought not to be: this stems from giants’ predilection for 
  hurling huge boulders when they are angry, or as sport.
  A Folklore Bestiary
  
  36
  Folklore
  Big folks’ anger is rarely reserved for human beings: flaring 
  tempers often lead to great battles between ogres, trows, and 
  giants. These battles involve the hurling of boulders as well 
  as insults, and can go on for days or suddenly stop when both 
  parties forget what they are fighting about. It must be said that 
  most big folk are not invested with brains to match their large 
  bodies, and they do have a reputation for being slow, forgetful, 
  or outright stupid. 
  Outwitting an ogre, for example, is a relatively simple task for 
  most people. As a result, many big folk can be convinced to aid 
  humans for a time, but given their size and tendency to forget 
  “the small things”, working in close proximity to a giant or 
  trow, for example, can be extremely dangerous. Most big folk 
  care little for human affairs, however, and are more interested 
  in their own battles, hurling stone, rock, and ice at one another 
  from mountain cliffs and low lying plains.
  There are a few exceptions to these generalities. The Scottish 
  cailleachs, for example, are shape-shifters who can transform 
  at will from flesh to stone or can assume the form of beautiful 
  young women. They and the Famhairean are also known to be 
  somewhat more intelligent than their less fortunate brethren. 
  Some tales suggest that the Famhairean (or Fomorians) are 
  in fact descended from wild gods and represent or protect 
  nature, chaos, and the wild. 
  Motivation
  The prime motivation for nearly all big folk is hunger. Their 
  huge bodies require massive amounts of food each day. A 
  relatively small number of them will consider humans as their 
  most promising food source, although trolls are particularly 
  fond of human flesh. In fact, as mentioned earlier, nearly all 
  big folk will go out of their way to avoid humans. The reclusive 
  Big Folk, Generic Statistics
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  STR
  9D6
  31–32
  CON
  8D6
  24–25
  SIZ
  9D6+6
  34–35
  INT
  1D6+1
  4
  POW
  3D6
  10–11
  DEX
  2D6
  7
  HP
  30
  Move: 12
  Damage Bonus: +3D6
  Skills: Spot Hidden 20%, and others as the Keeper desires
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 30%, damage 2D6+db
  Trample 35%, damage 3D6+db
  Hurled stone 25%, damage varies (see below)
  Armour: 3-point toughened skin
  Spells: None, except Cailleach can shape-shift (to stone or 
  woman form); others at the Keeper’s discretion
  Number appearing: 1
  Sanity Loss: 0 / 1D4 normally; 1 / 1D6 if especially large 
  or grotesque (e.g. true giant or troll)
  Appearance: The big folk appear as especially large 
  humans, always more than twice the size of an average 
  man and often considerably larger. No one individual looks 
  the same as another: hair, eye, and skin colour all vary 
  greatly; overall looks range from humanoid to bestial; and 
  apparent ages fluctuate from youthful to ancient. 
  A few types of big folk (e.g. trows and trolls) are more 
  frightening in aspect, looking more brutish or animalistic. 
  Due to their size, big folk wear clothing made from animal 
  hides, if they wear clothing at all. 
  Special Attacks: Hurling – big folk, especially the larger 
  varieties, are fond of hurling stones (from field stones 
  weighing a hundred or more pounds to huge boulders 
  weighing a ton or more, depending on their strength). As 
  a baseline the smallest stone a trow or ogre might throw 
  would be roughly 100 pounds (45 kg). A person hit by such 
  a hurled stone would take 1D6 points of damage. For every 
  additional 100 pounds add +1D6. Thus, a 500 pound (225 
  kg) stone would do 5D6 points of damage. A character 
  crushed under a boulder thrown by a true giant and 
  weighing a ton (2240 pounds / 1000kg) would take 22D6 
  points of damage. Remember to add half of the attacker’s 
  damage bonus. Keepers may wish to rule that glancing 
  blows deliver half the normal damage.
  A Note on Scale: The generic statistics given here are 
  only a guideline. The true giants of British folklore are 
  on a scale equivalent to Great Cthulhu himself and their 
  strength, constitution, and size would be 4 to 5 times 
  greater than those above. Alternatively, a degenerate troll 
  might be only slightly larger than an ordinary man and 
  have its physical stats reduced to one-third or one-quarter 
  of those provided.
  
  37
  Foawr, for example, will shun any and all interaction, preferring 
  to stealthily raid farms at night and steal away cattle. But if 
  they are provoked, or perhaps starving, an individual giant 
  or famhair might be suitably motivated to crush or trample a 
  human here or there.  
  The other main motivation for big folk is securing their lairs 
  and hunting grounds, primarily from one another. Again this 
  protective behaviour links in no small way to their need to 
  eat a huge quantity of food daily. Whereas humans passing 
  through a mountain range will not likely incur its anger, 
  walking directly into a giant’s cave is a sure-fire way to get 
  its attention. Additionally, some big folk are protective of 
  their natural environment and may take offence at anyone 
  attempting to disrupt or destroy nearby habitat (e.g. chopping 
  down trees, driving a road through a mountain pass, etc.).
  The Big Grey Man of Ben Macdui, for example, is known to be 
  fiercely territorial; however, it rarely attacks men, preferring 
  to frighten them away from its home amid the peaks of the 
  Cairngorms. In 1925, the celebrated climber John Norman 
  Collie recounted an earlier run-in with the Big Grey Man in 
  1890 which resulted in his rapid departure from the area: “… 
  [as] the eerie crunch, crunch, sounded behind me, I was seized 
  with terror and took to my heels, staggering blindly among the 
  boulders for four or five miles.”
  Mythos Connection
  Big folk generally do not congregate in large numbers so 
  connections to the Mythos will occur on an individual basis. 
  The most likely situation might be that a Mythos entity 
  or charismatic cult leader has convinced a troll or ogre, for 
  example, to serve them in exchange for some suitable reward, 
  most likely a large quantity of food. Of course if the Mythos 
  entity is powerful enough, the big folk might simply comply 
  out of fear. On rare occasions, big folk might form part of a 
  Mythos cult, especially if membership provides it with the 
  promise of greater food or territory. Given their intelligence, 
  however, it is unlikely that the big folk will play a leading 
  role in any Mythos plot; rather, they will more usually act as 
  henchmen, guards, or mercenaries.
  Note that the trolls of Britain should not be mistaken for the 
  degenerate Voormis found in Norway and other Scandinavian 
  countries (as found in Rowland’s Nightmare in Norway, 
  for example). These smaller, ape-like creatures bear little 
  resemblance to British trolls.
  Magic-wielding Humans
  Cunning Folk, Druid, Hag, Magus, Seer, Warlock, Wise Woman, Witch, Wizard
  “These miserable wretches are so odious unto all their 
  neighbors, and so feared, as few dare offend them, or denie 
  them anie thing they aske: whereby they take upon them; 
  yea, and sometimes thinke, that they can doo such things as 
  are beyond the abilitie of humane nature.”
  (Reginald Scot, The Discoverie of Witchcraft, 1584)
  The British Isles are awash with tales of magic-wielding 
  individuals, especially stories involving witches and witchcraft. 
  These magic users themselves are differentiated from other 
  humans only by their apparent ability to manipulate animals, 
  persons, or the natural world around us: they are otherwise 
  normally indistinguishable from regular folk. However, 
  witches and, to a lesser extent, other mages are often 
  characterised as being old, sometimes ugly, and possessing 
  great wisdom or intelligence—or at least enough to unnerve 
  and manipulate those around them.
  The magic wielded by these beings is normally folk magic, 
  but occasionally witches or magic users will in fact be cultists 
  or servitors of Great Old Ones or Outer Gods. The majority, 
  however, will practise folk magic arts passed down to them 
  from ancestral elders and belonging to long-established 
  folk traditions. Whether or not these witches and warlocks 
  possess any real magic is a decision left to the Keeper. It is 
  quite possible that the magi encountered have no true magical 
  ability whatsoever, but work on the powers of the mind, using 
  psychology to influence others and the world around them.
  Some generalisations exist regarding different types of magic 
  wielders: druids are most often associated with Nature and 
  natural magic, and to a lesser extent astronomy; magi are 
  normally associated with astrology, astronomy, and some 
  divination; seers are almost exclusively associated with 
  divination, scrying, and foretelling the future; warlocks 
  are most usually associated with sorcery, black magic, and 
  demonology; wise women are often seen as a less threatening 
  version of a witch and associated with natural wisdom and 
  healing arts; and, lastly, witches are perhaps the most versatile 
  of all magic users and can be associated with virtually any 
  arcane craft.
  In situations where a witch specialises in one school of folk 
  magic or another, she may be deemed variously a weather 
  witch, hedgewitch, good/white witch, evil/black witch, or 
  similar. Alternatively, she might be considered a healer, 
  A Folklore Bestiary
  
  38
  Folklore
  sorceress, soothsayer, or enchantress, breaking away from the 
  term witch altogether. Additionally, magic wielders are closely 
  associated with certain animals (e.g. cats, hares, foxes, ravens, 
  owls, etc.), are considered to use such animals as familiars, 
  and frequently have shape-shifting abilities attributed to 
  them. In the past, foxes and wild cats, for example, have been 
  persecuted in Great Britain for their “connections” to witches, 
  witchcraft, and the Devil. 
  Motivation
  The acquisition of more and greater magic and / or knowledge 
  is a common motivation for these cunning folk. For this group 
  of folklore peoples, more than any other group, knowledge 
  truly is power. Witches, warlocks, and other magic users will 
  value magic—folk or Mythos based—above any other reward 
  and will often serve or work alongside Mythos entities to 
  acquire greater knowledge and access new spells. This route 
  to greater power can prove a slippery slope for individuals, 
  however, who become drawn to increasingly more dangerous 
  and deadly magic over time. 
  Beyond the desire for magic and knowledge, magic wielders 
  are motivated by other, more base, human desires, such as 
  revenge, greed, lust, pride, etc., and more complex drivers 
  such as loyalties to particular individuals or ideals. Unlike 
  the various creatures, monsters, and fae folk listed elsewhere, 
  these people are, above all, human beings, and suffer from the 
  same insecurities and are driven by many of the same needs 
  that are found throughout human populations.
  This being the case, Keepers need not look far for the factors 
  that motivate individual magic wielders.  A sorceress seeking 
  dark knowledge to increase her power over others, for example, 
  is just as valid as a warlock or druid who is trying to regain the 
  respect of his father or a whole village, a hag trying to amass 
  great wealth, or a magician trying to force the affections of 
  an unobtainable lover. Additionally, human beings are rarely 
  driven by one all-encompassing motivation, but are played 
  upon by a number of them. Richly drawn NPCs with complex 
  motivations will be all the more memorable for them.
  Mythos Connection
  As noted above, the most obvious point of connection for 
  magic wielders is the magic itself. Put simply, magic users will 
  ever be drawn to more powerful and purer forms of magic. 
  Whether the magic is folk magic or proper Mythos magic, the 
  pull will be the same for all individuals: magic is the source 
  of their power and identity and, therefore, it constitutes an 
  essential path that they will pursue to enrich and strengthen 
  themselves. Ironically, that same path and same powerful 
  drive will finally drive most of them mad. Many folk magicians 
  may not even be aware of the link to the Mythos. Others, 
  however, will intuit the purer path or more direct route to 
  power and seek out Mythos magic. Many folk magic wielders 
  will only be initiated into the Mythos once they have learned 
  all they can of folk magic and desire more and greater power. 
  Regardless of the individual route or path they take, the end 
  result is the same: the underlying connection to the Mythos is 
  revealed through magic itself.
  Magic-wielding Humans, Generic Statistics
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  STR
  3D6
  10–11
  CON
  3D6
  10–11
  SIZ
  2D6+6
  13
  INT
  2D6+6
  13
  POW
  3D6
  10–11
  DEX
  3D6
  10–11
  HP
  12
  Move: 9
  Damage Bonus: +0
  Skills: Anthropology 15%, First Aid 30%, History 25%, 
  Occult 50%, Persuade 35%, Psychology 40%, and others 
  as the Keeper desires
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 20%, damage 1D4+db
  Armour: NA
  Spells: 1D6+6 folk magic or Mythos spells, or more at the 
  Keeper’s discretion
  Number appearing: 1 normally; 1D6+5 in a coven or 
  similar assembly
  Sanity Loss: None; however, seeing magic for the first 
  time or witnessing disturbing magical effects might 
  warrant a 1 / 1D3 loss
  Appearance: There is no rough guide to the appearance 
  of magic-wielding humans: they come in all shapes, sizes, 
  and colours. Those who find it useful to hide behind 
  or otherwise use traditional stereotypes might let their 
  hair grow wild and wear strange or even outlandish 
  clothing. Most rural witches and magi will, however, be 
  indistinguishable from everyday folk.
  
  39
  Those who are aware of the connection may well exploit it: 
  witches and wizards will, for example, join or initiate cults 
  so as to acquire magic from a Mythos deity. Alternatively, 
  Mythos entities will often look for febrile minds to seduce, 
  entice, or even inhabit, using promises of dark secrets and 
  powerful magic as tantalising bait. In other instances, the 
  witch or spellcaster may be drawn to the Mythos to fulfil other 
  desires. In many cases, the human involved will see servitude 
  to, or alliance with, a Mythos power as a means to an end—a 
  very dark and dangerous end. Overconfidence, wanton need, 
  and lack of foresight will lead many to engage in dark pacts 
  with Mythos powers.
  Shape-Shifters
  Baobhan Sith, Biasd Bheulach, Dearg-Diulai, Korrigan, 
  Leanan-Sidhe, Marbh Bheo, Vampire, Werewolf
  “What came out of those woods, I cannot say. It appeared 
  at first as a woman both beautiful and terrible lit by Night’s 
  fulsome glow. But before our eyes, its aspect changed and its 
  true Nature showed. It was as if a creature out of nightmare 
  and legend had walked into our midst, seeking only our 
  blood.”
  (C. A. Markham, Journeying Through Strange Lands, 1899) 
  Shape-shifting is a power common to many creatures of 
  folklore, often through the use of magic, but for a select few 
  it is their defining characteristic. The shape-shifters of 1920s 
  Britain are powerful beings defined by their innate ability to 
  transform from a human or humanoid form to more bestial 
  or monstrous form. In the case of many of these shape-
  shifters, the change is forced upon them by the arrival of night 
  or day, or with the coming of a particular lunar phase. Few 
  are in absolute control of their ability to change shape. Each 
  shape-shifter is unique but many share particular habits and 
  methods: for example, all shape-shifters feed on, or make 
  prey of, human beings; a great many of them use seduction 
  as a means to entrap their victims; and they are often 
  associated with the dead or with being undead. Werewolves or 
  lycanthropes (literally “wolf man” in the original Greek lykos 
  ànthrōpos) are a possible exception to the latter two points.
  Considerably more animalistic in aspect and action, 
  werewolves are more prone to terrorising and hunting their 
  prey rather than manipulating or seducing them, and are 
  usually portrayed as living human beings who have become 
  lycanthropes by means of a curse, disease, or spell. For these 
  particular shape-shifters the transformation into wolf form 
  is brought on by the phases of the moon, especially the full 
  moon, and is often imagined in folk tales as a painful, body-
  wrenching experience. Once the shift to the werewolf shape 
  is complete, the human consciousness is, in most instances, 
  completely overcome by the animal need to hunt and feed. 
  The werewolves themselves are impulsive, feral creatures of 
  instinct and preternatural craving.
  Vampires and their kin, on the other hand, while vicious and 
  predatory in their own way, are more human in appearance 
  and action. The vampires of folklore differ in some respects to 
  the vampire as presented in Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1897) and 
  early 20th century fiction—not having to return to its original 
  soil or coffin, for example—but Keepers are encouraged to 
  use whatever aspects, peculiarities, and motives best fit their 
  A Folklore Bestiary
  
  40
  Folklore
  scenarios and adventures. Rather than working individually 
  or in secret, in some folklore vampires are known to hunt in 
  packs or congregate in great numbers. From time to time, 
  vampire “plagues” have occurred across the British Isles.
  The appearance of vampires is sometimes related to suicides, 
  murder victims, or people wrongly executed rising from the 
  grave, usually intending to revenge themselves upon the 
  living. The biasd bheulach (“chattering beast” in Scots Gaelic) 
  of the Isle of Skye appears both as a man with one leg and 
  as a beast, howling and baying for blood, seeking vengeance 
  for some terrible grievance. More often, however, encounters 
  with vampires are motivated by their extraordinary hunger 
  and need for human blood.
  The Irish dearg-diulai (“drinker of human blood”) and leanan-
  sidhe (“barrow lover”), the Scottish baobhan sith (“banshee” 
  or “white woman of the Highlands”), and the English korrigan 
  all appear as beautiful women who seduce and feed upon 
  primarily male targets. They are normally encountered in 
  rural wilds, sometimes near wells or other sources of water, 
  and appear uniformly as women who possess a beauty that 
  is otherworldly and utterly bewitching. Warm-blooded males 
  stand little chance against the beguiling seductiveness of these 
  vampires of folk tale—one by one they ultimately succumb to 
  the vampire’s allure and charm.
  The baobhan sith and dearg-diulai drain their male victims 
  of their blood instantly, killing them and moving on to find 
  new prey. The korrigan, who appears as a hag during the 
  day and a beautiful woman at night, will only kill those men 
  who fall in love with her: she will toy with their affections, 
  use her formidable powers of seduction, and, once they have 
  pronounced their undying love, she will kill them at last and 
  drain their blood. Rather than blood, the leanan-sidhe drains 
  her victims of vital energies. Like other vampires, the leanan-
  sidhe—again ugly by day and beautiful by night—will seduce 
  and charm her lover, but she will also act as a dark muse to 
  this individual, who will often reveal or develop incredible 
  artistic ability. As this artistic ability grows, the leanan-sidhe 
  simultaneously devours her lover’s spirit until her victim 
  becomes a dried husk awaiting death’s release. When her lover 
  dies, she will boil the artist’s blood in a cauldron and consume 
  it to keep herself young and alluring.
  Shape Shifters, Generic Statistics
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  STR
  6D6
  21
  CON
  2D6+6
  13
  SIZ
  3D6
  10–11
  INT
  2D6+6*
  13
  POW
  2D6+6
  13
  DEX
  2D6+6
  13
  HP
  12
  Move: 12
  Damage Bonus: +1D6
  Skills: Hide 55%, Spot Hidden 40%, Track (or Sense 
  Blood) 75%, and others as the Keeper desires
  Weapons: Bite (Vampiric) 45%, damage 1D4 and blood 
  drain every round after **
  Bite (Werewolf) 30%, damage 1d6+db
  Claws 35%, damage 1D6+db
  Armour: 1-point hide for werewolves, otherwise none, 
  but all shape changers regenerate 1 hit point per round
  Spells: None, or at the Keeper’s discretion
  Number appearing: 1 (Werewolf) or 1D3 (Vampiric)
  Sanity Loss: 0 / 1D6 to see a shape changer; 1 / 1D4 to 
  witness a shape changer transform
  Appearance: In human form, shape changers appear no 
  different from normal humans; however, vampiric shape 
  changers normally possess striking or especially beautiful 
  countenances. In monstrous form, werewolves appear as 
  terrifying human-wolf hybrids having huge jaws and claws, 
  thick fur or hide, and lupine eyes and ears. Vampiric shape 
  changers largely retain their humanoid form, but exhibit 
  otherworldly qualities or abilities, such as blood-red eyes 
  and sharp fangs.
  Special Attacks: Energy Drain (Leanan-Sidhe especially) 
  – using this power, the shape-shifter drains the target 
  of magic points and POW over an extended period (once 
  per week). Have the shape-shifter and its human target 
  match POW on the Resistance Table. If the energy drain 
  is successful, the shape-shifter gains 1D10 magic points, 
  while the victim loses the same amount of magic points 
  and permanently loses 1 point of POW. Over time, the 
  victim’s ability to resist the shape-shifter diminishes until 
  she or he reaches zero POW and dies.
  * In werewolf form, the intelligence of the shape-shifter is 
  halved.
  ** See the Vampire entry in the Call of Cthulhu core 
  rulebook for more information. 
  
  41
  Not all vampires act in so premeditated a fashion, however. 
  The marbh bhoe of Ireland rise from their graves on 
  Hallowe’en for the Failte na Marbh (Festival of the Dead) 
  and visit their living ancestors for a time of feasting. Having 
  spent a year underground with no nourishment, these undead 
  relatives arise starving and dehydrated. Should their living 
  descendants provide them with ample food and drink, no ill 
  befalls them, but if the offerings are too meagre, the marbh 
  bhoe take their sustenance from their descendant hosts, 
  feeding off their blood until sated.
  Lastly, vampiric shape-shifters can often change into other 
  natural forms, including bat-form, rat-form, and wolf-form, 
  or even alter its physical shape into that of mist. Altering their 
  forms drastically takes a tremendous amount of energy and 
  most shape-shifters will use these alternate forms only for 
  travel or to flee a life-threatening situation.
  Motivation
  The prime motivation for all shape-shifters is hunger: hunger 
  for flesh in the case of the werewolf or hunger for human 
  blood in the case of vampires and their brethren. This hunger 
  is intensely supernatural and beyond human experience and 
  understanding. It compels the shape-shifters to act and is 
  a force against which the shape-shifter has little ability or 
  opportunity to resist. The hunger is everything and overrides 
  all other needs. For vampiric shape-shifters, blood is a source 
  of nourishment and renewal: it sustains them throughout 
  their eternal, undead lives.
  For werewolves, the thrill of the hunt is another less powerful 
  motivation, as vengeance is for some of the vampiric shape 
  changers. Unlike humans, most shape-shifters do not possess 
  overly complex drivers or mixed desires: there is only one real 
  imperative and that is the kill. The kill is what drives them, 
  directs their actions, and determines their fates.
  Mythos Connection
  For most shape-shifters, hunger is not only the prime driver 
  but is also the prime reason why they would ally with or serve 
  a Mythos entity, specifically in finding a means of satisfying 
  that hunger. A vampire or werewolf, for example, might join a 
  Mythos cult if doing so afforded it greater freedom or licence to 
  hunt and sate its hunger. A group of dearg-diulai or baobhan 
  sith might serve or worship a Mythos entity that promised 
  an endless supply of humans to feed upon. Shape-shifters 
  might also join cults or other such groupings for security or 
  greater power when dealing with the human world. While 
  most shape-shifters can never escape the hunger, a werewolf 
  in human form is freed from the imperative to kill and feed. As a 
  human, he or she can establish different connections to Mythos 
  entities. Perhaps the werewolf is, in fact, desperately seeking to 
  overcome the curse of lycanthropy and believes an alliance with 
  a particular Mythos creature or god will allow it to uncover a 
  cure. Or alternatively the werewolf might have fully embraced 
  its predatory nature and desires the same power in human form 
  as it possesses in wolf form and so worships one of the Outer 
  Gods to acquire that power.
  Bodily Horrors 
  Bullbeggar, Rawhead & Bloodybones, Skeleton, and Screaming Skulls
  “Rawhead and Bloody Bones, Steals naughty children from 
  their homes,
  Takes them to his dirty den, And they are never seen again.”
  (Traditional English Rhyme, Rawhead and Bloody Bones)
  The bodily horrors of British folklore are an odd mix of 
  decidedly bizarre creatures. What each of them shares is a 
  grotesque appearance derived from a normal human form: 
  screaming skulls and skeletons are collections of fleshless, 
  magically animated or possessed bone, while the humanoid 
  bullbeggars and rawheads & bloodybones are skinless (or 
  possess tight, translucent skin), showing raw muscle, pumping 
  blood, stretching sinew, and white bone with every movement. 
  They can be found virtually anywhere in the British Isles, but 
  each of them is more likely to be encountered in populated areas 
  and, in the case of screaming skulls, are usually found indoors.
  Bullbeggars feed off human fear and will go to incredible 
  lengths, including pulling off their own heads, to inspire fear 
  in their prey. They are also great tricksters and use pranks 
  and mischief to wind up their victims over time, allowing their 
  prey’s fear to increase in the same way that a farmer might 
  fatten up a goose. When the bullbeggar attacks, it seeks out 
  an opportunity to elicit the greatest amount of fear from its 
  prey. A common trick used by the creature is to lie prone in an 
  isolated spot, waiting for its victim to draw near, whereupon it 
  leaps up, growing to an uncanny size, emitting a blood-curdling 
  scream, and tearing a limb or its head off. If the victim does 
  not faint dead away, the bullbeggar will chase its prey to the 
  point of exhaustion, sucking it dry of every last ounce of fear.
  Rawhead & bloodybones also live off the primal energies of 
  fear, but more specifically children’s fears. Like the bullbeggar, 
  rawhead & bloodybones appears as an exaggerated humanoid 
  with exposed muscle, sinews, bones, veins and arteries. 
  Rawhead & bloodybones usually lives in damp environs, but 
  as close to children as possible: for example, lurking behind 
  A Folklore Bestiary
  
  42
  Folklore
  dripping pipes in a cellar, beneath the warped floorboards of a 
  bathroom, or in a water-logged shed outside a child’s bedroom 
  window. While it normally remains in the shadows or just out 
  of sight, if rawhead & bloodybones is witnessed first-hand, 
  it usually appears hunched, covered in weeping scabs, and 
  having overly large eyes and razor-sharp claws. If the creature 
  ever has the opportunity to attack the child in the open, it will 
  seek to literally frighten the child to death.
  Skeletons and screaming skulls do not normally feed off the 
  living, but more often serve some purpose magically invested in 
  them prior to or shortly after their deaths. Animated skeletons, 
  for example, often act as guardians, bound to a particular place 
  or building, or as informants, brought back to life temporarily 
  to divulge some secret or other precious information. The 
  magic used to animate a skeleton is often short-lived while a 
  skull or skeleton possessed by a spirit can theoretically exist for 
  centuries or until the bone itself erodes into dust.
  As receptacles for possession, screaming skulls function 
  significantly better than whole skeletons. The spirits possessing 
  such skulls in folk tales are invariably the original owners. The 
  individual wishing to cheat death in this way must ask that his 
  or her skull be interred within a house or specific chamber as a 
  final request and must specifically request that his or her spirit 
  be bound to the skull for eternity. Less commonly, screaming 
  skulls are linked to stories of witches, mistresses, lesser 
  brothers, servants, or even vengeful slaves who were mistreated 
  or demeaned in life and who desire recognition in death.
  Motivation
  Each of these bodily horrors acts alone (e.g. bullbeggars 
  avoid one another and will never group together) and each 
  one is motivated individually. In fact, in the case of animated 
  skeletons, direction and motivation are often not self-
  determined: they are magically created to perform a function 
  or a task. For both possessed skeletons and screaming skulls, 
  purpose and role are determined by the possessor and will 
  normally be simplistic in scope. For example, a screaming skull 
  might have resolved to spend eternity guarding its home or 
  watching over its hereditary line. A possessed skeleton might 
  have been brought to life to revenge itself upon its murderer or 
  to drive insane its nemesis in life. In each case, the motivation 
  is predetermined and does not vary from moment to moment.
  For bullbeggars and rawheads & bloodybones, the prime 
  motivation is to feast upon the fears of their chosen victims. 
  They are single-minded beings and live to inspire fear. Any 
  secondary or subsequent motivations or desires will be 
  accomplished in service of their prime directive. A bullbeggar, 
  for example, will orchestrate pranks and play cruel tricks upon 
  its prey, but only to elicit and feed upon greater fear when its 
  victim is suitably panicked. A rawhead & bloodybones similarly 
  will torment a child or potentially an entire orphanage in a 
  variety of ways, but always to feed from a greater pool of fear 
  and the psychic energies produced.
  Mythos Connection
  So 
  single-minded 
  are 
  bullbeggars 
  and 
  rawheads 
  & 
  bloodybones that they can serve few purposes for Mythos 
  groups or entities; however, where the creation or inspiration 
  of fear is the goal, these bodily horrors excel and might be 
  enlisted for their natural talents. Should this be the case, the 
  Mythos power will invariably control these horrors either 
  through intimidation or by appealing to their desire to feed 
  from ever greater sources of fear. The latter is undoubtedly 
  the best means of ensuring their service and guaranteeing 
  what little loyalty they possess.
  In the case of skeletons and screaming skulls, the Mythos 
  connection is considerably clearer and more tangible. 
  Cultists and Mythos powers will occasionally use animated 
  skeletons for simple occupations, where using an animal or 
  another human being would be problematic or ineffective. 
  For possessed skeletons and particularly screaming skulls, 
  the connection to the Mythos is even more direct: the magic 
  
  43
  used to bind their soul to their old bones is Mythos magic, 
  usually acquired through a pact with a Great Old One or more 
  significant deity, or learned in a powerful Mythos tome. In 
  essence, screaming skulls and possessed skeletons are Mythos 
  creatures and are usually bound to serve Mythos interests.
  Special Variant: Possessed Screaming Skulls
  A surprising number of great halls and manor farms around 
  Britain in the 1920s have skulls in them, often taking pride 
  of place amongst the valuables of the household or displayed, 
  securely but proudly, in a special place within the building. 
  Tradition dictates that these skulls cannot be removed from 
  the buildings or they will begin to scream and wail and will 
  bring great misfortune upon those who moved them, or the 
  household they were moved from, until such time as they 
  are returned. Some of the skulls are also said to have the gift 
  of prophecy or to react to great events by sweating blood, 
  moaning, screaming, appearing to move around the house, or 
  lobbing small items around the room like a poltergeist.
  Bodily Horrors, Generic Statistics
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  STR
  3D6+6*
  16–17
  CON
  3D6+6*
  16–17
  SIZ
  2D6+4*
  11
  INT
  3D6*
  10–11
  POW
  2D6*
  7
  DEX
  2D6+6*
  13
  HP
  13
  Move: 7
  Damage Bonus: +1D4
  Skills: Hide 65%, and others as the Keeper desires
  Weapons: Bite 20%, damage 1D4
  Claws 35%, damage 1D4+db
  Weapon DEX x3, damage normal+db
  Armour: None
  Spells: None, or at the Keeper’s discretion
  Number appearing: 1
  Sanity Loss: 0 / 1D6 to see a bodily horror; 1 / 1D4 to see 
  a bullbeggar tear off a limb or remove its head
  Appearance: Animated skulls and skeletons appear as 
  bleached, white masses of bone. Bullbeggars and rawheads 
  & bloodybones appear as grotesque, skinless humans: 
  muscles, viscera, sinews and bone are all visible and act 
  accordingly when the body moves. Both of these fleshless 
  horrors possess large, bulging eyes and oversized teeth. 
  They possess and wear no clothing of any kind.
  * Statistics for Animated Skeletons are provided in the Call 
  of Cthulhu core rulebook and special rules for Screaming 
  Skulls are provided nearby.
  Devil’s Pact or Nyarlathotep’s Gift?
  N
  yarlathotep comes in many forms, a thousand devilish guises, and he is more than willing to form pacts and deal with worshippers in 
  any of them. His promises are empty, however, and while they may fulfil the letter of the bargain—if it suits his whim—more often 
  than not they do not fulfil its spirit. One of the frequent gifts that Nyarlathotep offers is that of immortality. This might take the form 
  of a twisted, misshapen, and undying body; an eternity as a trapped ghost or as part of a larger monstrosity in some other dimension; or, 
  through the gift of a particular magic spell, providing an eternal existence as a skeleton or screaming skull.
   
  Those afraid of death and its damning repercussions might find solace in the endless existence that Nyarlathotep offers. In the 
  case of a screaming skull, the dark pact promises life everlasting achieved through a macabre spell, allowing the user to “live” or persist in 
  a specified location until the end of the universe. To an extent this promise is true, as the caster is bound to his skull and the skull is bound 
  to a particular location and sometimes bloodline. However, what goes unwritten is Nyarlathotep’s single, unimaginable condition for the 
  spell: should the skull be moved, the soul bound within the skull is wrenched free from it and sent immediately to Azathoth’s insane court, 
  bound finally to the whirling, incomprehensible chaos and made to dance for eternity among the multitude of mad gods that worship great 
  Azathoth. Such is their inexpressible torment that their extra-dimensional screams echo back from the seething randomness of Azathoth’s 
  court to Earth and are given expression through the skull, threatening to drive insane all who hear them.
   
  Nyarlathotep’s dark gift, the Mythos spell for binding bones (see its description nearby) is rarely given. Its cruelty is subtle and 
  unfolds over decades and centuries. It is given mostly freely to those of aristocratic blood, to the decadent, grasping people whose egotism 
  demands that they see how their descendants live and continue to hold up their name or social standing. Nyarlathotep can then work on 
  corrupting and rendering dissolute those same descendants, tormenting the damned souls and their bloodlines down the ages, and taking 
  joy in all their degenerate madness. Even so, occasionally Nyarlathotep perversely grants the knowledge of the spell to the very lowest rungs 
  of his worshippers, turning things around as part of his calculated insult and contempt for the higher classes dedicated to his worship.
  A Folklore Bestiary
  
  44
  Folklore
  Bound within the screaming skull is the soul and spirit of 
  its original possessor, and, as such, it still possesses the 
  intelligence, willpower, and the stored knowledge and 
  education of the bound individual. This trapped spirit can look 
  out from the skull into the world around it, but cannot speak 
  directly to anyone or interact with anything without spending 
  magic points (equal to the skull’s POW as usual). Thus, 
  possessed screaming skulls are essentially mute observers 
  of the world around them until they act upon one or more of 
  their special abilities (see below). Being so limited and yet 
  so aware is often a recipe for insanity and many of the souls 
  bound into screaming skulls will have gone mad long before 
  someone inadvertently triggers madness by removing them 
  from their proper places.
  Screaming Skulls, Possessed Crania
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  INT
  3D6*
  10–11
  POW
  3D6*
  10–11
  EDU
  3D6+3*
  13–14
  HP
  3
  Move: NA
  Damage Bonus: NA
  Skills: Spot Hidden 65%, and others as the Keeper desires
  Weapons: See Special Abilities below
  Armour: None
  Spells: 1D3 spells, see Special Abilities below
  Number appearing: 1
  Sanity Loss: 0 / 1D3 points for witnessing a supernatural 
  manifestation associated with a screaming skull (e.g. 
  hurling or blood sweat) 
  Appearance: A possessed screaming skull is little more 
  than a polished human skull, sometimes missing the 
  jawbone and / or being cracked depending on the manner 
  of death. Changes to the skull’s appearance are only 
  possible through the expenditure of magic points.
  Special Abilities: 
  Apparition – the screaming skull can manifest a ghostly 
  apparition in the form of its original body, anywhere within 
  the home or confines it is bound to, for 1D4 minutes, with 
  the expenditure of 5 magic points;
  Blood Sweat – the screaming skull can manifest and 
  sweat human blood with the expenditure of 3 magic points;
  Family Curse – if removed from its resting place, anyone 
  living in the house with which it is associated or of its 
  bloodline suffers horrible nightmares that always involve
  the skull. The same applies to the thief or whoever is 
  responsible for removing it;
  Hex – the screaming skull can cause anyone within its 
  domain to become agitated and confused, subtracting 1D10 
  from all percentile roles and checks, with the expenditure 
  of 3 magic points;
  Hurling – the screaming skull can hurl small, light objects 
  (e.g. fountain pens, picture frames, cups and saucers, etc.) 
  for 1D3 minutes with the expenditure of 3 magic points;
  Regeneration – if destroyed, a screaming skull reforms 
  within twenty-four hours and, if the shards or pieces are 
  within 10 miles, reappears at its customary resting place;
  Screaming – if removed from its resting place the 
  screaming skull begins to scream unceasingly, wailing 
  and keening in an indescribably unsettling way, costing 
  whomever is within earshot the loss of 1 SAN per day until 
  it is returned to its resting place;
  Shriek – the screaming skull can issue a single, ear-
  splitting shriek with the expenditure of a single magic 
  point. All who hear the shriek must roll SAN or lose 0 / 1 
  point of Sanity; and,
  Spellcasting – the screaming skull can cast any spells 
  that it knows at the normal magic point cost, provided 
  their casting does not require a body or any accoutrements. 
  Typically a Screaming Skull knows 1D3 spells of the 
  Keeper’s choice.
  * Possessed screaming skulls will have the INT, POW, and 
  EDU of the original individual.
  
  45
  Ghosts and Spirits 
  Banshee, Bogeyman, Corpse Candle, Foxfire, The Grey King, 
  Headless Ghost, Ignis Faatus, Lob, Phantom, Poltergeist, Spunkie, 
  Will-o’-the-Wisp, Wraith, and Jack-o’-Lantern
  Tales of hauntings and other spectral activity are as common 
  in 1920s Britain as they have ever been. Written accounts of 
  ghosts and spirits in the British Isles date back to the earliest 
  writings of the 6th and 7th centuries, recorded by missionaries 
  such as St. Columba and St. Adamnan. Individual folk 
  stories of ghosts, phantoms, and other ethereal beings can 
  be found in every corner of England, Wales, Scotland, and 
  Northern Ireland. In fact, so numerous are these otherworldly 
  encounters that folklorists have developed a nomenclature or 
  classification system for them (see nearby box).
  In the 1920s, despite society’s growing reliance on, and faith 
  in, science and technology, few people have completely given 
  up their belief in spectres and phantasms. Folk traditions and 
  beliefs still loom large and strange, seemingly otherworldly 
  activity is often attributed to ghosts and spirits. The most 
  commonly held beliefs are that these spectres persist in the 
  physical world because they have some unfinished business to 
  attend to—some deed left undone in life or some unresolved 
  conflict to see through—or that they are bound to protect 
  or watch over some person, place, or thing. In the case of 
  criminals or other wicked people, stories often tell how their 
  restless spirits are trapped in limbo, purgatory, or some horrid 
  “unlife” to pay for their crimes or misdeeds.
  Regardless of their origins, ghosts and spirits are all bound by 
  their ethereal natures and their general inability to act upon the 
  physical world. All such creatures are essentially insubstantial.
  Classification of Spirits 
  Animal Ghosts: Ghostly representations of cats, 
  dogs, horses, etc. unknown to the investigators.
  Apparitions: 
  Ethereal 
  beings 
  known 
  to 
  the 
  investigators, the spectral forms of deceased friends or 
  family members.
  Ghosts: Entities or beings who are unfamiliar to the 
  investigators and whose significance is unknown.
  Ghost Light/Sign: Strange ghostly sounds, lights, 
  or other phenomena encountered by investigators, 
  suggesting non-corporeal activity.
  Harbingers: Terrifying spirits or phantoms who 
  foretell the death of one of the investigators, or of 
  others known to them.
  Haunters: Beings bound to a single location or, more 
  unusually, span of time; thus, encounters with such 
  beings are limited to the haunted space or hour.
  Living Phantasms: Spirit forms of living people 
  familiar to the investigators, projections of friends or 
  family members known to be living elsewhere.
  Poltergeists: A frustrated or troubled entity that 
  manifests its anxiety and anger physically by moving or 
  hurling small objects, sometimes targeting investigators.
  Visions: Phantasmal persons, objects, or even “events” 
  that relate some meaning to the investigators
  New Spell: Binding Bones
  Binding Bones tethers a human soul to the remains of its 
  physical body. The spell must be cast by, or onto, a willing 
  subject prior to his death. Once cast, the spell takes effect 
  immediately and the soul is bound both to the skull and 
  the location of the binding, usually the target’s home. Upon 
  death, the skull of the deceased will become a screaming 
  skull.
  Casting the spell requires the expenditure of 10 magic 
  points and the loss of 1D10 Sanity points and one 
  permanent point of POW.  The spell requires that the 
  caster be naked inside a circle inscribed in his or her blood 
  and mortify the flesh of his or her arms with a silver knife 
  in snaking patterns that mimic the writhing form of the 
  Bloody Tongue and the insane geometry of Azathoth. Next 
  the caster must sever one of his or her fingers at the first 
  knuckle. Lastly, invoking the terrible name of Azathoth 
  itself and that of Nyarlathotep, the caster must offer up his 
  soul and swallow the knuckle of bone.
  From that point on, in quiet moments or in solitude, the 
  caster will forever hear the mad piping and chaotic music 
  of Azathoth’s court, serving as a terrible reminder and 
  warning of what is to come.
  A Folklore Bestiary
  
  46
  Folklore
  Efforts by them to interact with or influence the real world 
  come at a cost and are normally only achieved through the 
  expenditure of magic points. In order to avoid such costs, the 
  majority of spirits attempt to bring about real world changes—
  for good or ill—by reaching out to, and motivating, living 
  individuals, presenting them with potent signs or appearing 
  to them in spectral form. Others use less direct means of 
  interaction to convey messages from the spirit world. Corpse 
  candles, for example, will move in and out of a house where 
  someone is dying, foretelling the coming of death.
  Wraiths and banshees also foretell death: wraiths will knock 
  on the doors of a house in the dead of night, indicating that 
  death will soon come to someone inside that house, while the 
  wailing scream or keening of a banshee presages the imminent 
  demise of the person hearing the wailing spirit, or of someone 
  close to them. To see a wraith specifically within a churchyard 
  is to foretell one’s own, certain doom. Another harbinger of 
  death is the will-o’-the-wisp who is drawn to death and is often 
  witnessed as a small light or ghostly lantern moving by night 
  in the direction of the dead or dying.
  However, far from just foretelling death, some spirits actively 
  seek to cause the deaths of humans. Many folk tales relating to 
  jack-o’-lanterns, foxfire, will-o’-the-wisps, ignis faatus (“fool’s 
  fire” in Latin), corpse candles, and similar “ghost light” 
  reveal darker intentions, wherein the glowing lights attract 
  unwary, foreign, or lost travellers to their doom. The bodies 
  of such travellers are found at the bottom of crags, wash up 
  on shores, or disappear altogether and are never found. What 
  motivates these supernatural beings is unknown. Spunkies, 
  which appear much the same as their ghost light brethren, 
  are believed to be benign souls of unfortunate children, but 
  their habit of dancing above jagged rocks and reefs has led 
  to the untimely death of many sailors when their ships run 
  aground.
  The spectral, solitary figure of the grey king (brenin llwyd in 
  Welsh) is an altogether more evil and hungry spirit who seeks 
  to waylay travellers, often hiding in the mist at or near the tops 
  of mountains. Those who encounter the grey king typically 
  do not return down the mountain. While not attracted to, 
  or seeking, death per se, the lob and bogeyman are no less 
  gruesome and manipulative in their attitude towards humans. 
  The lob is attracted to violence, pain, and sadness, and is 
  often associated with war, disaster, illness, plagues and 
  other blights. The lob feeds off the pain, worry, and anguish 
  suffered by the people living in such circumstances, and will 
  do whatever it can to protract suffering so that it may feed 
  more languorously.
  
  47
  The immaterial bogeyman—like the bullbeggar, rawhead & 
  bloodybones, and other such horrors—feeds on fear and is 
  particularly attracted to the intoxicating fears of children. 
  Both the lob and the bogeyman are essentially parasitic and 
  will latch onto one source of fear and abide near it until it 
  has found a more potent source of pain or fear, respectively. 
  Bogeymen and lobs will normally be invisible, and struggle 
  to remain so, but spells or powers that allow true seeing will 
  reveal their hideous forms. The non-corporeal bogeyman is 
  vaguely humanoid in shape, but terribly bent and malformed, 
  possessing goblinoid features, huge red eyes, and a hideously 
  large mouth. The lob, on the other hand, exists only as a dark, 
  twisting cloud, lacking any defining shape or structure. 
  Also misshapen and horrifying in countenance are the many 
  headless ghosts of Britain. Just why so many headless ghosts 
  exist is something of a mystery. While some can clearly be 
  identified as criminals, ordinary people, and even nobles 
  who were beheaded or otherwise decapitated, there exist a 
  surprising number of these ghastly horrors across the United 
  Kingdom. Worse still, most of them seem inclined to use their 
  shocking and abhorrent appearance to scare the wits out of 
  travellers and their neighbours alike. The British Isles are 
  also home to numerous spectral hounds, ghostly horses, and 
  phantom coaches which are less openly antagonistic or hostile. 
  The significance of such visions, if any, is often lost to the 
  passage of time, and so provides Keepers with an opportunity 
  to invent some useful meaning for their appearance.
  Motivation
  Motivation is key to the existence of ghosts and spirits. In 
  fact, in many cases these spectres exist solely to accomplish a 
  particular task or see a certain condition met. Thus, they are 
  extraordinarily motivated and this is reflected in their POW 
  scores. The nature of this motivation will not necessarily be 
  obvious or easy for investigators to decipher. The presence 
  of a phantom horse in a farmer’s field, for example, could 
  mean any number of things. In most situations where a ghost 
  interacts with an investigator, however, the ethereal entity 
  will be seeking the investigator’s help. A trapped spirit might 
  be seeking to escape from its eternal torment through the 
  machinations of the investigators or a desperate poltergeist 
  might be trying to prevent a powerful tome or magical item 
  from falling into the hands of cultists.
  Whatever the motivation, the introduction of a ghost or 
  vision into a scenario provides an interesting puzzle for the 
  characters and players to work through. Uncovering a ghost’s 
  hidden agenda can lead to a new line of investigation for 
  the characters, present new information, and/or add a new 
  twist to an already established investigation. Keepers should 
  carefully decide how the ghost’s motivation will play out 
  and how it will impact the plot, and neither point should be 
  obvious to players when their investigators first encounter the 
  ghostly apparition. Even in the case of a malevolent phantom 
  or wraith that seeks to destroy the investigators, the characters 
  will want to consider what motivated the attack.
  Mythos Connection
  There are a number of potential Mythos connections for 
  ghosts and spirits. A ghost might be the restless spirit of 
  a victim of a sacrifice to a dark god, seeking some means of 
  laying its soul to rest. It might be a spectral guardian bound to 
  the hateful will of a powerful Mythos sorcerer and desperately 
  desiring release. A phantom might in fact be an investigator 
  murdered by a cult leader, who is still pursuing him or her 
  in the afterlife. Alternatively, a cultist might have willingly 
  bound his or her soul to a place of dark worship, or a dark 
  priest of Nyarlathotep or Shub-Niggurath might have prayed 
  for immortal life and received more than he or she expected. 
  Perhaps a group of particularly determined explorers of 
  eldritch knowledge would not be parted from their Mythos 
  library even after life parted from them, and in death they still 
  pursue the dark knowledge that has long eluded them.
  Unlike most other folklore entities, ghosts and spirits can be 
  willingly or unwillingly connected to the Mythos. A choice is not 
  required, for example, in a situation where a ghostly apparition 
  has been summoned, wrenched from its spiritual home 
  and its eternal rest, by a cult seeking information or power. 
  Whether created willingly or unwillingly, ghosts are subject to 
  experiences behind the veil of reality and exposed to universal 
  truths and dimensions both fascinating and horrible. Few who 
  return to an earthly existence do so with their sanity intact.
  Many spirits and phantoms are eternally tormented 
  and conflicted, trapped between existences, and so may 
  behave nothing like their living, human versions. A kindly 
  woman might thus become a banshee, a meek and quiet 
  gentleman might become a poltergeist, and a benefactor and 
  philanthropist might return as a violent wraith. Alternatively, 
  a madman might find solace in death and become a lucid, 
  helpful apparition. Any combination is possible.
  One rarer possibility is that a will-o’-the-wisp, corpse candle, 
  or jack-o’-lantern could in fact be one of the Lumens, a 
  lesser servitor race of the Cthulhu Mythos. Lumens appear 
  indistinguishable from ghost lights and act as guardians of 
  special nexus points around the globe—several of which are 
  to be found in the British Isles. Rarer still, what appears as 
  A Folklore Bestiary
  
  48
  Folklore
  a ghost might in fact be a Spectral Hunter or similar Mythos 
  creature who possesses the ability to become invisible and / or 
  travel unseen. Keepers interested in incorporating the Lumens 
  or Spectral Hunters into their scenarios or campaigns can find 
  more information on these beings in Chaosium’s Malleus 
  Monstrorum supplement.
  Ghosts and Spirits, Generic Statistics
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  INT
  3D6
  10–11
  POW
  2D6+8
  15
  Move: 5
  Damage Bonus: NA
  Skills: As the Keeper desires
  Weapons: Special Attack* (see below) 
  Armour: None, but being insubstantial they cannot be 
  harmed by any conventional means and only spells that 
  attack the spirit may have any effect
  Spells: None, or at the Keeper’s discretion
  Number appearing: 1
  Sanity Loss: 0 / 1D6 to see a ghost or spirit; 1 / 1D8 to 
  see a particularly gruesome or terrifying phantom
  Appearance: If visible at all, most ghosts and spirits 
  appear as ethereal, softly glowing shades of their former 
  selves, albeit sometimes headless; however, ghost lights 
  such as will-o’-the-wisps and ignis fatuus appear as little 
  more than small lights in the distance varying typically in 
  colour from amber to white. Bogeymen and lobs remain 
  invisible unless forced to show their true forms, at which 
  point they appear as insubstantial, grotesque humanoids 
  or as an amorphous, dark cloud, respectively. 
  Special Attacks: Absorb Power – attacking ghosts and 
  spirits use their POW to psychically absorb their targets’ 
  POW.  Match the ghost’s POW with the target’s POW on 
  the Resistance Table. If the ghost succeeds, it absorbs 
  between 1D2 and 1D6 points of POW depending on how 
  enraged and / or powerful the ghost is (as determined 
  by the Keeper). If reduced to zero POW, the target falls 
  unconscious. Should the player succeed over the spirit, 
  the intended POW loss affects the ghost instead. If the 
  ghost is reduced to zero POW it either vanishes or is 
  destroyed (again as determined by the Keeper).
  * Additional rules for Ghosts and Wraiths exist in the 
  Call of Cthulhu core rulebook.
  Black Dogs 
  Barghest, Black Angus, Cú Sith, The Grim, Gwyllgi, Gytrash, Hairy Jack, 
  Moddey Dhoo, Padfoot, Old Shuck, Spectre-hounds, Tchi-Co, Yeth Hound
  “I heard a rush under the hedge, and close down by the hazel 
  stems glided a great dog, whose black and white colour made 
  him a distinct object against the trees. It was exactly one 
  form of Bessie’s Gytrash—a lion-like creature with long hair 
  and a huge head… with strange pretercanine eyes….”
  (Charlotte Brönte, Jane Eyre, 1847)
  Sightings of black dogs are common across the whole of 
  Great Britain and they are one of the most enduring creatures 
  in British folklore. Black dogs are primarily nocturnal, 
  phantom hounds of greater than average size and possessing 
  otherworldly, glowing eyes. Encounters with black dogs are 
  almost uniformly dangerous or deadly: the dogs themselves 
  are powerful adversaries and even the appearance of a black 
  dog on the horizon or outside a window is regarded as a 
  portent of death.
  Immortalized in Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes tale The 
  Hound of the Baskervilles and mentioned in Brönte’s 
  Jane Eyre, black dogs usually inhabit desolate and lonely 
  locations—moors and other wild environs—appearing at 
  night, avoiding lamplight or firelight and generally shunning 
  Britain’s cities. Most encounters occur on disused roads up 
  and down the country, where these huge ghostly dogs appear 
  suddenly beneath the moonlight to hound their unlucky or 
  cursed prey through the darkness unto their deaths. On rare 
  occasions, black dogs will stalk the dark alleyways of small 
  villages and at least one record has a black dog entering the 
  city of York to hunt down its prey in the shadowy, cobbled 
  wynds there.
  Across Wales, Scotland, England and Northern Ireland, the 
  black dogs have taken on numerous associations. The most 
  common of these associations is with the Devil, but they are 
  otherwise variously connected to: demons, ghosts, crossroads, 
  dark lanes, black magic, storms, suicides, executions, and 
  murderers or their victims. Many locations across the British 
  Isles are said to be haunts of black dogs, who may on very 
  rare occasions, or for a short time, act as guardians for evil 
  witches and sorcerers. In these rare instances where the black 
  dogs inhabit a fixed position or guard a particular estate, the 
  stories are often reminiscent of older tales about dogs of the 
  underworld from Celtic, Saxon, and older myths.
  
  49
  Still other traditions suggest that the black dogs are themselves 
  forms adopted by shape-shifting wizards or witches. 
  Alternatively, another human connection is provided where 
  the black dogs turn out to be ghosts of men, especially 
  murderers, who have been transformed into ghostly hounds 
  bound in eternal torment due to the nature of their crimes. 
  More commonly, however, folktales attribute the appearance 
  of the black dogs to demons: for example, demons sent by the 
  Devil as part of a punishment meted out upon sinners who 
  revelled too much in their Sunday hunts, or otherwise put 
  their own needs before those of God.
  Tales of fairies make their appearance in connection to 
  black dogs too; some tales make the black dogs out to be the 
  servants of the fairy courts or especially important fairies 
  themselves. Of all these various associations, connections, and 
  interpretations, however, by far the most common one is that 
  black dogs are the bringers, or the heralds, of doom, either 
  hunting people through a dark wilderness or appearing to 
  them and baying terribly before their deaths, in a very similar 
  manner to the appearance of a banshee and its shrieking or 
  screaming.
  [By Cable—Exclusive Dispatch]
  LONDON.—Bodmin Moor, one of England’s most rugged and wild locations, has long been a favourite spot for 
  walkers. Recently though, some walkers have seen something that has left them in fear of their lives. They speak of 
  a great black dog, too large to be a common pet, roaming the moors and howling madly. Debate rages as to whether 
  this unknown creature is a natural phenomenon, something supernatural, or just the over-active imaginations of 
  exhausted walkers. One man, however, is sure that he knows.
  Professor John Calton, noted zoologist at Oxford University, is certain that imagination is the only explanation: 
  “Though it is one of the wildest spots in England, Bodmin Moor does not have vast forests or similar natural places 
  where such a beast could hide, the gentle granite slopes simply do not allow for it. I think the works of Sir Arthur 
  Conan Doyle are the likely source of this so-called beast, in particular ‘The Hound of the Baskervilles,’ which even the 
  most ardent believer must admit, bears a striking similarity to the reports these walkers are giving.
  “Their descriptions of the beast should also make any rational mind pause. It seems most commonly spotted on the 
  horizon at sunset, but why? There is no reason that should be true of any real creature but twilight is renowned for 
  distorting perception. We must also question its reported proportions and physical qualities: they do not appear to 
  conform to any known canine breed. Perhaps we might attribute this to some peculiar cross-breeding. However, any 
  sane biologist must find fault with the fanciful suggestion of the animal—of any animal for that matter—possessing 
  glowing red eyes. For such a thing to be possible, we must enter the realm of fantasy.
  “Of course eccentrics come up with all sorts of nonsense, and on a daily basis, to try and get around these problems. 
  Perhaps the most common explanation they give is that the beast is the ghost of a prehistoric dog, something for 
  which there is absolutely no evidence. The most outré explanation I have heard is that it is an alien dog, some sort of 
  pet for beings from outer space. I think that owes more to H. G. Wells’ ‘War of the Worlds’ than to Conan Doyle, but 
  it is still, clearly, just a fiction.”
  Dissenting voices abound, not least that of the folklorist Dr Augustus Blake. “Mysterious black dogs have been seen 
  and experienced in Britain as far back as our records go,” he recently remarked in a statement to the Press. “There are 
  churches with claw marks in their doors which are, in their locale, known to be the work of such a beast in the Middle 
  Ages. Those claw marks are real, anyone can see them, touch them, but nobody can explain them. We have to accept 
  that even in the 20th century there are things our science cannot explain.”
  As for the truth, we leave that for our readers to decide for themselves.
  (Excerpted from The Sunday Times, 1922)
  Strange BeaSt Spotted again on Bodmin moor
  A Folklore Bestiary
  
  50
  Folklore
  Black dogs are known by a huge number of different names 
  and titles in addition to those given above, and often the name 
  has regional or local significance, or a particular meaning 
  that might be significant to investigations. Indeed, characters 
  looking into the history of black dogs might be overwhelmed 
  by what they find. So diverse and numerous are the stories of 
  black dogs—each one changing over time and developing into 
  newer versions—that the folklore behind the beast has grown 
  more and more obscure over time. While this poses a potential 
  challenge to investigators, it works very much in the favour of 
  the Keeper.
  A great deal of the information relating to the history, 
  appearance, characteristics, and abilities of the black dogs 
  is open to interpretation and Keepers can add to or take 
  away from this rich folkloric mix what they will. Creating a 
  unique name and folk story for your black dog will give the 
  investigators a different, interesting challenge while still 
  allowing them to dip into a deeper pool of folklore tradition. 
  Regardless of its backstory or specific intent, the appearance 
  of a black dog should always be played for atmosphere, 
  disturbing the investigators or even hounding them to their 
  deaths.
  Motivation
  What truly motivates the black dogs remains a mystery. In the 
  rare cases where the black dog might be acting in the service 
  of fairy folk or a powerful witch, they will act as their service 
  demands. If they are free, however, the one constant that may 
  be guaranteed is that the black dogs will act violently and with 
  extreme malice. They are uniformly evil and will seek to do 
  harm where harm can be done, usually inspiring as much fear 
  as possible within their victims. Even when they do not act 
  directly, the black dog will terrorise targets, causing as much 
  psychological stress as they can. 
  Mythos Connection
  If the black dogs are terrestrial, then they could potentially 
  be the creation of a powerful magus or witch. The more 
  interesting option, however, is to imagine the black dogs as 
  shackled and crippled Hounds of Tindalos, bound by ancient 
  magic to a single place and a specific track of time, unable to 
  break free of the collars and chains that bind them by ancient 
  rite until the passage of time might break those bonds. These 
  aberrant black dogs might still leap around time and space 
  within the bounds of their imprisonment, testing the walls 
  
  51
  of their temporal and spatial prisons. The essential nature of 
  these bound and diminished Hounds of Tindalos is corrupted 
  and altered by their imprisonment, weakening them and 
  forcing them to scavenge for whatever sustenance their bonds 
  will allow them to find.
  Special Variant: Tindalosian Black Dog – Greater 
  Independent Variant
  “Insubstantial as smoke, wreathed in mist, the dark form of 
  the thing opened its slavering jaws as its glowing red eyes 
  fixed upon him. Its heavy paws left no footprints on the 
  dewy grass and an unnatural, steaming vapour rose from 
  it in a constant, boiling effervescence, an unnatural tongue, 
  flicking the air like some terrible metronome, marking the 
  diminishing time of his life.”
  (Unknown author, The Winchester Codex)
  This especially rare variant of a black dog is, in fact, a bound 
  and fettered Hound of Tindalos. Entrapped within bonds of 
  arcane magic and restrained with magical chains designed to 
  interfere with the Tindalosian’s “curved” nature, the Hound is 
  anchored to the universe of angles, essentially crippling it and 
  binding it to our reality and time.
  It is believed that the binding began with the Great Race of 
  Yith, who imparted the knowledge and practice of the binding 
  to shamans, magi, and Mythos scholars down the ages, to 
  safeguard their communications and protect their time-based 
  experiments, and themselves, from the terrible Hounds of 
  Tindalos. While the Yithian mental projections usually slip 
  past the Hounds’ rabid stalking of the corridors of time, 
  humans, particularly those who were members of the Yithian 
  cults or whose minds were in fact inhabited by the Great Race, 
  were far more susceptible. 
  Being able to bind and pin down a Hound was not only useful 
  for keeping them from attacking, but their presence also 
  warded off other Hounds from attacking the same place and 
  time that they exist in, reducing the risk of attacks through 
  the time barrier. Knowledge of the binding ritual has passed 
  from the Yithian cultists into darker strains of occult folklore, 
  although the secret of summoning the dogs (as opposed 
  to merely attracting their attention) is a much more closely 
  guarded secret.
  A Folklore Bestiary
  
  52
  Folklore
  Because these chains interfere with the very base nature 
  of the Hound, its physical and spiritual properties are 
  also altered. Such a Hound is much weaker than its free 
  brethren and is tightly anchored to the same physical and 
  temporal world as “angular” life, additionally making the 
  black dog vulnerable to damage. Such Hounds cannot help 
  but understand the limited scope of the world that they now 
  occupy. The black dogs remain very intelligent, but their 
  feral hunger and instinctive actions may make them seem 
  more like baser animals. They should not be underestimated, 
  however: when black dogs have had time to acclimate, 
  they will likely begin to make plans to secure their release, 
  nudging people along the paths they desire. They will use 
  all the power still open to them, including manifesting in 
  different areas or before people, manipulating humans and 
  human beliefs, and killing those who impede their escape, to 
  provoke someone—anyone—into willingly or inadvertently 
  breaking their bonds and freeing them.
  Black Dogs, Generic Statistics
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  STR
  3D6+4
  14–15
  CON
  3D6+15
  25–26
  SIZ
  3D6+6
  16–17
  INT
  5D6
  17–18
  POW
  7D6
  24–25
  DEX
  3D6–1
  9–10
  HP
  21–22
  Move: 10 
  Damage Bonus: +1D4
  Skills: As the Keeper wishes
  Weapons: Claw 80%, damage 1D6+db
  Bite 80%, damage 1D4 plus 1 point of POW drained 
  permanently
  Armour: 2-point hide and regenerates 1 hit point per 
  round; mundane weapons do a maximum of 1 point of 
  damage per strike, but enchanted weapons and spells do 
  full damage
  Spells: Each black dog knows at least 1D4 spells, as the 
  Keeper finds appropriate; however, they cannot cast them 
  while bound
  Number appearing: 1
  Sanity Loss: 0 / 1D6 Sanity points to see a Black Dog
  Appearance: Black dogs appear as large, phantasmal 
  hounds, horrifying in aspect and shrouded in roiling mist 
  and shadow. They possess great, burning, red eyes and glow 
  with a faint otherworldly, blue-green phosphorescence 
  around their entire form. Additionally, the skin of a black 
  dog exudes a foul-smelling, greenish-black ichor that 
  covers its entire body. 
   
  Special Attacks: A black dog can use its claws or its jaws 
  to attack within a round, but not both. It usually attacks 
  with its jaws because it is starving; unable to feed as a 
  Hound of Tindalos normally would, a Black Dog is almost 
  always striving for sustenance. If the Keeper wishes, he 
  or she can roll for each attack using 1d6: a result of 1–4 
  indicates a bite attack, while 5–6 indicates a claw attack.
  New Spell: Bind Hound of Tindalos
  In order to bind a Hound of Tindalos and transform it into a Black Dog, first the chains that will bind it must be created, as 
  detailed in Bonds of the Black Dog nearby. Next a Hound of Tindalos must be contacted and summoned (as detailed in the 
  Call of Cthulhu rulebook). When the Hound arrives, those present need to tackle it and hold it long enough for the bonds 
  to be wound around it—two turns of grappling is the minimum, though it might take longer at the Keeper’s discretion. 
  Once the bonds are fitted upon the Hound, it is rendered quiescent, and the spell can be completed. The spell requires the 
  sacrifice of 5 magic points and 1D4 SAN (note that this does not include the initial SAN loss for summoning and seeing the 
  Hound of Tindalos). The caster must draw the insane geometry of the bonds and the Hound together more permanently 
  using a geas, which will remain active upon the Hound so long as its bonds remain. The Hound can be either bound to 
  an area, typically a wilderness in which it can hunt, or bound to a task (e.g. protecting a specific area, preying upon a 
  certain type of people, etc.). If the Hound does not receive its geas within five minutes of being bound, then the bonding 
  is incomplete and fails, meaning that the Hound is free to wreak havoc upon those who would try and control it. If the 
  binding is completed, the Hound will diminish and take on the form of a black dog, as described below.
  
  53
  Serious investigators trying to get to the bottom of the truth 
  about a black dog might even find themselves manipulated by 
  it. The bound Hound is not above aiding investigators in return 
  for its deliverance. The creature’s ultimate aim is always to 
  arrange its freedom, to break free from its bonds, allowing it to 
  return to its own time and race, perhaps to plot some terrible 
  revenge upon those who caught it, their descendants, or even 
  their distant ancestors.
  Where Hounds of Tindalos are only vaguely dog-like in 
  appearance, the black dogs are more strongly so. Four-legged 
  and loping, they have a distinctly canine outline of shadow 
  and smoke, with two burning red eyes, and a faint blue-green 
  phosphorescence around their entire form. The greenish-
  black ichor that covers their bodies is constantly evaporating 
  away, the viscous sweat resulting from the stress and strain of 
  being restricted to a single timeline and dimensional reality. 
  Unlike their free brethren the Hounds of Tindalos, black dogs 
  cannot move through angles of any sort and are bound by 
  the same physical dimensions as any other earthly, corporeal 
  creature. They can, however, move limitedly through time, 
  and so could, for example, gain entry to a building by moving 
  back to a time when a door or gate was opened or left ajar, and 
  then jump forward again to continue chasing what they seek 
  inside the building. Their arrival is presaged by the shadowy 
  mist that always surrounds them.
  Black dogs can use their ability to travel through time to appear 
  as harbingers of doom, to evade capture or killing (although 
  they cannot travel to a point in time before their binding and 
  thereby become free), and to try to influence the timeline 
  to allow for future escape. A black dog is usually bound to a 
  particular area or locale, be it a moor, a mountain, or a city. 
  It cannot move beyond these magically-imposed boundaries. 
  Additionally, if the creature has been further bound to a 
  particular service, it must stay on task and not deviate from 
  the goal intended by its master; however, it can potentially 
  reinterpret the parameters of its task provided it meets the 
  necessary outcome.
  The bonds required to bind a Hound of Tindalos and turn 
  it into a black dog must be carefully prepared. The chains 
  can be fashioned from an earthly metallic element, but 
  it must be a pure element, not combined with any other 
  metal: e.g. pure copper, iron, silver, gold, etc. The forged 
  chain must then be inscribed with a complex set of curling 
  patterns, whorls and knots to receive the creator’s blood. 
  Once inscribed, the caster must cut both palms and rub his 
  or her own blood into the carved patterns so that each curve 
  is defined in blood.
  Finally, to empower the chains, the caster must sacrifice 
  a permanent point of POW while continuing to run his or 
  her palms over the inscribed markings, enough to keep the 
  pattern wet with blood. Once so enchanted, the bonds are 
  capable of binding, but not physically harming, a Hound 
  of Tindalos. The created bonds can be used to attempt 
  a binding only once, and if the attempt fails, they are 
  rendered useless and another attempt will require another 
  unique set of chains. The process of empowerment exposes 
  the caster’s mind to the alien geometries of the curved 
  space that the Hounds of Tindalos inhabit and in addition 
  to the sacrifice of POW requires that the caster make a 
  SAN roll, suffering 1/1D3 points of Sanity.
  Once empowered, the bonds can be broken only with a 
  magical attack or enchanted weapon. However, the bonds 
  must be maintained over the centuries, or the creature 
  will slip free. The caster who sacrificed a point of POW, 
  or one of his blood kin, must re-enchant the bonds of the 
  black dog once per year, performing the empowerment 
  annually in order to keep the black dog secured. Again, this 
  ritual involves the permanent sacrifice of 1 point of POW, 
  although this time the main caster does not have to be the 
  one to provide the sacrifice—other participants, willing or 
  otherwise, can contribute some of their life-force to the 
  binding ritual. 
  Traditionally, condemned criminals would be used in this 
  way to keep the Dog at bay. If the empowerment ritual is 
  not performed, there is a cumulative 10% chance per year 
  that the black dog may slip its bonds and return to its 
  proper form.
  Anyone who took part in the ritual or any blood relative of 
  the original caster should then consider himself or herself 
  at risk. Freed from imprisonment as a black dog, the 
  Hound of Tindalos can range over all of time and space to 
  achieve their revenge. Hounds will commonly stalk both 
  the immediate and ancestral family of the caster/gaoler 
  throughout all recorded time, howling with joy at each 
  death, for every dead member of the family brings the 
  Hound one step closer to removing the caster and all his or 
  her relatives from existence.
  New Spell: Bonds of the Black Dog
  A Folklore Bestiary
  
  54
  Folklore
  Black Dogs, Temporally Bound Hounds of Tindalos
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  STR
  3D6+4
  14–15
  CON
  3D6+15
  25–26
  SIZ
  3D6+6
  16–17
  INT
  5D6
  17–18
  POW
  7D6
  24–25
  DEX
  3D6–1
  9–10
  HP
  21–22
  Move: 10 
  Damage Bonus: +1D4
  Skills: As the Keeper wishes.
  Weapons: Claw 80%, damage 1D6+db
  Bite 80%, damage 1D4 plus 1 point of POW drained 
  permanently
  Armour: 2-point hide and regenerates 1 hit point per round; 
  mundane weapons do a maximum of 1 point of damage per 
  strike, but enchanted weapons and spells do full damage
  Spells: Each black dog knows at least 1D4 spells, as the 
  Keeper finds appropriate; however, they cannot cast them 
  while bound
  Number appearing: 1
  Sanity Loss: 1D3/1D10 Sanity points to see a Black Dog
  Appearance: Bound Hounds of Tindalos appear much 
  the same as other black dogs, being large, phantasmal 
  hounds, horrifying in aspect and shrouded in roiling mist 
  and shadow. They are leaner and more skeletal than the 
  free black dogs and do not possess the same burning, red 
  eyes or otherworldly glow around their entire form. Instead 
  the bound black dogs possess a highly disturbing spectral 
  quality where light seems to curve around their bodies in 
  peculiar ways, making them difficult to focus on or look at 
  for long periods.
   
  Special Abilities: Time Travel – A black dog can leap 
  up to 6 hours into the past once per day and may choose 
  either to relive the past or return to the present. Time travel 
  into the future is more severely restricted by the magic that 
  binds it and so a black dog may only leap up to 60 seconds 
  into the future once per day. This is an innate ability and 
  does not require magic points.
  54
  Folklore
  
  55
  Water Horses 
  Capaill Uisce, Ceffyl Dwr, Each Uisge, Kelpie, Nuckelavee, Nuggle
  “Belief in these and similar evil beings still persists in the 
  Highlands, and endless are the lochs which are the reputed 
  haunts of these monsters… The water-horse, water-bull, or 
  kelpie…”
  (M.E.M. Donaldson, 
  Wanderings in the Western Highlands and Islands, 1920)
  The dreaded water horse is one of the most malicious 
  and dangerous magical creatures in British folklore. An 
  accomplished shape changer, the water horse is capable 
  of taking on a number of forms, from men and women to 
  animals of any nature, in addition to its true monstrous form. 
  Its most favoured disguise is that of a beautifully groomed 
  and particularly powerful-looking horse of varying colour and 
  temperament. The water horse is always found near water, 
  most usually freshwater lakes or lochs, but some accounts 
  speak of ocean-going kelpies as well. They are invariably wet 
  when encountered. Even in human form, they will appear 
  dripping wet or bedraggled with weeds in their hair.
  Whether in horse or human form, the water horse is always 
  extremely beautiful and possesses a magnetic quality. Its wet 
  skin or hide is smooth and silky like a seal’s but deathly cold 
  to the touch. The terrifying magnetic potential of the ceffyl 
  dŵr or each uisge (“water horse” in Welsh and Scots Gaelic, 
  respectively) becomes clear when a human mounts or touches 
  the water horse: anyone laying a hand on or mounting a kelpie 
  will soon discover that they cannot break the contact. No earthly 
  power can sever the invisible bond between the water horse 
  and its prey, although many folktales tell of people willingly 
  severing their own limbs to save themselves from a worse fate.
  A Folklore Bestiary
  55
  
  56
  Folklore
  The water horses’ methods follow a recognisable pattern: 
  at first they remain hidden, casting glamours or illusions 
  to remain unseen; choosing their victims, they assume the 
  appearance that will most beguile the targets; appearing 
  before the victims, they lure their targets to mount them or, 
  at the very least, to touch them; and, once ensnared, the water 
  horse dives into the nearby water, drowning their helpless 
  victims and devouring them. 
  Tales regarding the ceffyl dŵr sometimes differ in that, 
  rather than diving into a nearby body of water, the ceffyl 
  dŵr transforms into a fabulous winged steed, launches into 
  the air, and drops their victims from a very great height, 
  letting gravity do its work before landing to consume the 
  unfortunate riders.
  A less common power used by the water horse is the ability to 
  raise water levels where it suits or provides some advantage. 
  Within the water, the shape-shifting water horse or kelpie can 
  return to its truly monstrous, aquatic form, which is normally 
  considerably larger than its form on land. Some folktales tell 
  of water horses extending to 70 or more feet in length with 
  a long neck rising up out of the water. The most famous of 
  these is, of course, the Loch Ness Monster, who would acquire 
  worldwide attention in the late 1930s after several sensational 
  sightings.
  On rare occasions, water horses are known to have worked 
  with humans, but only to meet their own needs; once those 
  needs were met, the wicked creature returned to its evil ways.
  Motivation
  The water horses of 1920s Britain are uniformly evil. Their 
  hunger drives them and they delight in entrapping, drowning, 
  and feasting upon humans. Their desire for human flesh does 
  not abate for any reason and their hunger is never sated. Thus, 
  the water horses will attempt to lure and kill any and all people 
  they come across. Regardless of time or season, they are ever 
  driven to hunt, to kill, and to feed. Many water horses also take 
  some pleasure in causing chaos and bedlam—this is especially 
  true of the Nuckelavee of the Orkney islands. However, their 
  primary motivation is always to feed. If, however, they can 
  create havoc or bring about turmoil through their killing, then 
  they will likely do so.
  For example, a water horse who comes upon a party of 
  travellers or a group of children might forego killing one of 
  the party or group so as to seed pandemonium within a nearby 
  village or town. It might also use such a tactic to draw more 
  humans to its lake or loch, or to herd its fearful prey to new 
  or different hunting grounds. The water horse’s intent will 
  always be to secure future feedings.
  Water Horse, Generic Statistics
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  STR
  3D6+20
  30–31
  CON
  3D6+6
  16–17
  SIZ
  4D6+12
  26
  INT
  3D6
  10–11
  POW
  3D6
  10–11
  DEX
  3D6
  10–11
  HP
  21
  Move: 12
  Damage Bonus: +2D6
  Skills: Dodge 45%, Hide 50%, Psychology (Human) 45%, 
  and others as the Keeper desires
  Weapons: Bite 5%, damage 1D10
  Kick 5%, damage 1D8+db
  Rear / Plunge 5%, damage 2D8+db
  Armour: 2-point skin and muscle
  Spells: Remain Unseen, and others at the Keeper’s 
  discretion
  Number appearing: 1
  Sanity Loss: None, but 1 / 1D4 to see a water horse 
  transform, and an additional 0 / 1D2 to anyone finding 
  themselves ‘stuck’ to the water horse
  Appearance: In human form or horse form, water 
  horses appear strikingly attractive and possess a powerful 
  magnetic quality. In either form, they always appear wet. 
  They can take on any colour or shape and will often appear 
  in a form that is most persuasive to its prey. They will also 
  cleverly move and act in ways that put their victims at ease 
  and / or will convey the water horse’s desire to be touched 
  or ridden.
  Special Ability: Bonding Flesh – anyone touching or 
  riding a water horse will immediately find his or her skin 
  adhering to the creature. The bond is impossibly strong 
  and works through clothing, hide, and leather. Riders, for 
  example, will find that their legs, seats, and hands are all 
  ‘stuck’ to the water horse. This contact cannot be broken 
  by physical or magical means. Separation is only possible 
  via severing the flesh or limb in contact with the creature.
  
  57
  Mythos Connection
  Water horses will rarely work with any other creature or 
  individual. They are extraordinarily solitary and do not believe 
  in human principles such as trust. Any Mythos connection 
  then would need to appeal directly and very powerfully to the 
  water horses’ singular need to feed on humans. 
  A rare situation might exist, for example, where an Outer God 
  (Nyarlathotep, for example) might agree to provide a water 
  horse with an abundance of humans to toy with and devour 
  should it help spread disarray and bedlam throughout the 
  land.
  Alternatively, a human wizard wishing to rid himself of a rival 
  or a particularly troublesome villager might conspire with 
  the water horse to bring about the target’s untimely death. 
  So overwhelming and indiscriminate is the water horse’s 
  desire, however, that it could easily turn on its supposed ally 
  or partner after dispatching the requested target. Regardless 
  of how the connection is established, unless the water horse 
  fears for its life, the connection will be tenuous and might be 
  broken in an instant if the water horse believes it can acquire 
  better victuals elsewhere.
  Lastly, in winged form, the ceffyl dŵr might bear some relation 
  to the Mythos star steeds, the Byakhee. Keepers wishing to 
  play up this connection are encouraged to read further about 
  this lesser servitor race in the Call of Cthulhu core rulebook 
  or the Malleus Monstrorum supplement. Another distant 
  possibility is that a water horse might in fact be one of the 
  greater independent race known as the Horses of the Invisible. 
  These powerful Horses are extraplanar creatures and differ 
  from water horses in a number of ways, but Keepers might 
  wish to consider them as possible Mythos connections. More 
  information on the Horses of the Invisible can be found in the 
  Malleus Monstrorum. 
  Nuckelavee, Powerful Hybrid Water Horse
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  STR
  3D6+20
  30–31
  CON
  5D6+6
  23–24
  SIZ
  4D6+20
  34
  INT
  3D6
  10–11
  POW
  5D6
  17–18
  DEX
  3D6
  10–11
  HP
  28
  Move: 12
  Damage Bonus: +3D6
  Skills: Spot Hidden 65%, and others as the Keeper desires
  Weapons: Bite x2 35%, damage 1D10
  Grapple 35%, no damage, however while grappled the 
  Nuckelavee’s Bite and Spit Poison percentile chances are 
  doubled and victims must match STR with the creature on 
  the Resistance Table to break free
  Spit Poison 20%, damage special (see Special Attacks)
  Trample 50%, damage 2D8+db
  Armour: 2-point muscle, and regenerates 1 hit point per 
  round
  Spells: Remain Unseen, and others at the Keeper’s discretion
  Number appearing: 1
  Sanity Loss: 1D2 / 1D10 to see the grotesque Nuckelavee
  Appearance: The Nuckelavee is a horrific hybrid of man 
  and horse, where the trunk of the “man” appears fixed or 
  joined to the back of the horse. It has no skin and its black 
  blood, whitish sinew and bone, and red muscles show with 
  every movement. The “human” head and arms are terribly 
  exaggerated, being ape-like in both look and strength. The 
  human head possesses a single red eye ringed in magical 
  flame whilst the horse head has two glaring red eyes.
  Special Ability: Venomous Mist – surrounding the 
  Nuckelavee to a radius of roughly twenty feet is a thin 
  black mist. This venomous vapour has a POT of 10 and 
  investigators enveloped in the mist must match their 
  CON against this vapour or lose 1 point of CON per round. 
  Succeeding characters are unaffected.
  Special Attacks: Poisonous Spit – the Nuckelavee can 
  direct a rancid, toxic poison at targets in point blank or short 
  range. If the attack succeeds, the poison contacts the target’s 
  flesh and they must match their CON against a POT of 15. 
  Successfully poisoned investigators will lose 1D3 STR and 1 
  hit point per round starting one round after the success (i.e. 
  one round will pass where no effects are felt). Investigators 
  who resist the poison will still lose 1 point of STR per round 
  beginning one round after their success. Washing the sickly 
  poison off with fresh water or rainwater will allow the 
  investigator to regenerate lost STR at a rate of 1 point per 
  hour. All hit points lost are recovered normally. Washing the 
  poison off with bottled water, alcohol, or even wet mud will 
  stop the poison, but will not begin the regeneration of STR. 
  Only fresh water or rainwater will reverse the loss. 
  A Folklore Bestiary
  
  58
  Folklore
  Special Variant: The Nuckelavee or Devil o’ the Sea
  Unlike most folklore creatures which show some propensity 
  toward doing a good act now and then, the Nuckelavee of 
  Orkney is evil incarnate and universally feared amongst 
  the islanders. A horrifying variation of the water horse, the 
  Nuckelavee or Devil o’ the Sea thrives on mayhem and death. 
  In the 1920s, the Nuckelavee is believed to be the cause of 
  a number of unsolved murders and disappearances and 
  Orcadians know well not to invoke its name at night. Like 
  the water horse, the Nuckelavee stays near water, preferring 
  to skirt the coastline, but it does occasionally venture inland 
  even to the point of crossing islands.
  Most encounters with the Nuckelavee occur when it is on land, 
  where it appears from a distance as a dark horse and rider. Only 
  when the Nuckelavee approaches its intended victims do they 
  realise the grim truth: this Devil of the Sea is a horrific hybrid 
  of man and horse, as though the two had merged at the trunk 
  or saddle. The “human” head of the Nuckelavee is many times 
  larger than that of a normal man, with a wide maw filled with 
  sharp teeth and having only one massive, single red eye, which 
  in some accounts is ringed by flame. The body of the Nuckelavee 
  is skinless, showing massive muscles writhing and twitching 
  as it nears its victims. Its black blood courses visibly through 
  translucent veins, feeding its powerful muscles and sinews.
  Both horsehead and grotesque human head are used to bite 
  and long ape-like limbs grapple those unfortunate enough to 
  meet this Devil o’ the Sea. From its two mouths the Nuckelavee 
  spits foul-smelling poison and his breath is a venomous, black 
  mist. His toxic breath and poison are said to be the cause of 
  blights in the fields and contagion in the villages. Targets of 
  the Nuckelavee have but one saving grace: the beast makes 
  his home in the salt water of the ocean and cannot enter fresh 
  water. Even a burn or small stream acts as a powerful barrier 
  against the Nuckelavee, who avoids all sources of fresh water, 
  including rainfall. Indeed, it is believed that were it not for the 
  power of the sea and the wet Scottish weather, the Devil o’ the 
  Sea might claim every life on Orkney.
  Dragons
  Drake, Knucker, Sea Serpent, Winged Serpent, Worm, Wyrm, Wyvern
  There are endless folk stories about dragons throughout the 
  British Isles, especially in both England and Wales where they 
  take on an almost patriotic significance. These great dragons of 
  folklore tend, however, to be more often tales about “worms” 
  and other huge serpents rather than the classical, winged 
  dragons of legend and myth. Many of these giant worms are 
  credited with shaping local landscapes, creating hills and 
  digging out gullies. Such stories are particularly common in 
  Wales and the west of England. Strangely, dragon myths in 
  Scotland, northern England and Northern Ireland are few by 
  comparison, despite those areas being just as full of valleys 
  and hills.
  Dragon folk tales tend to highlight the struggles of knights 
  and the villages they protect against the terrible might of a 
  troublesome dragon. Surely the most famous dragon tale is 
  that of Saint George and the Dragon, in which a noble knight 
  of great virtue and ingenuity dispatches a terrible creature 
  threatening a village. Ironically the iconic story of Saint 
  George is widely believed in the 1920s to have  originated not 
  in England, but in Greece or the Middle East from whence 
  it was brought to British shores by returning Crusaders. 
  Regardless of its origins, the story forms an archetype for 
  many such dragon folk tales. 
  One of the most famous and well-known stories of a British 
  dragon is that of the Lambton Worm. The story goes that 
  an heir to the castle in the Middle Ages was an arrogant and 
  feckless youth who once caught a strange worm in the river 
  and tossed it into a well to be rid of it. While he was away 
  fighting in the Crusades and learning to be a proper man and 
  a chivalrous knight, the worm grew to monstrous proportions 
  and climbed out of the well, terrorising and killing people in 
  the lands surrounding the castle. The beast spent its nights 
  winding around the hill and carving grooves into it with its 
  serpentine body. The locals tried to destroy it, but every time 
  they cut it in two, the two halves joined back together again.
  Seven years later the battle-hardened knight returned and 
  found his homeland under duress from the terrible monster. 
  He sought advice from a witch on how to deal with the beast, 
  and she told him to cover his armour in spikes and barbs and 
  to fight the creature in the river, extracting a rather biblical 
  toll that he would kill the first thing to greet him after he won 
  against the beast. The plan succeeded, the beast was destroyed 
  by being cut into chunks that were swept away by the river 
  before they could join back together, but the first person 
  to greet the knight after the battle was his father, whom he 
  refused to kill, so the witch laid a curse on the whole family to 
  die tragic deaths ever after.
  Saint George’s dragon, the Lambton Worm, and the many 
  serpents and drakes found in British folklore are often 
  indistinguishable in their demeanour and methods. Folktales 
  
  59
  encountered up and down Britain show 
  dragons to be rampaging beasts (as the 
  Lambton Worm is remembered), using their 
  formidable arsenal of weapons (teeth, claws, 
  tail, fiery breath, and sheer size) to lay villages 
  to waste and terrorise the countryside. 
  However, this is not always the case as other 
  wyrms and dragons were known to function 
  more as extortionists and blackmailers, like 
  the Burley Dragon, which demanded pails of 
  milk and an offering of sheep in exchange for 
  not consuming the locals—until it was bested 
  by a passing knight.
  Dragons have long been associated with sin, 
  both in pagan and Christian traditions, and 
  many folktales portray dragons as proud, 
  wrathful, and greedy creatures. The triumph 
  of humanity over the dragons can be seen 
  as a mankind’s triumph over sin. But a 
  darker significance may lurk behind this perceived triumph 
  as numerous Mythos monsters display draconic qualities or 
  possess serpentine features. Could the triumphs heralded in 
  folklore, in medieval paintings, and in early histories in fact be 
  triumphs over nightmarish Mythos entities that laid waste to 
  British settlements and decimated rural populations?
  Mythos creatures themselves are often mistaken for drakes 
  and wyrms. Chthonians and dholes appear as great and 
  truly enormous worms, respectively, shaking the ground 
  beneath peoples’ feet, damaging buildings or shaping the very 
  landscape around them. Hunting horrors haunt the night 
  appearing as terrible winged serpents and wyverns, while the 
  oceans are home to sea monsters and nightmarish creatures 
  that may in fact be unique Mythos entities or Great Old Ones. 
  Motivation
  Dragons are largely motivated by hunger, greed, and pride. The 
  appetites of dragons for food, wealth, and power over its lesser 
  neighbours are well documented. Put simply, dragons do not 
  share: this is true whether it pertains to living in harmony with 
  humans or folklore creatures or to cohabitating with other 
  dragons. Given their fighting prowess and their position atop 
  the food chain, dragons and worms make a habit of simply 
  decimating or entirely annihilating the competition rather 
  than sharing its territory or resources. This fierce individuality 
  also means that dragons will never work in concert—their 
  pride and suspicious natures forbid it.
  Britain’s great serpents and drakes cannot be generalised as 
  purely evil. Each dragon is an individual. While most wyrms 
  will prove aggressive, gluttonous, and haughty, some may 
  approach encounters with investigators coolly, with interest 
  or bemusement, or more rarely with complete indifference. 
  Folktales that depict dragons as being informative, helpful, or 
  kind are generally unheard of. That said, if the Keeper wishes 
  an individual wyvern or sea serpent to assist the characters in 
  some way, he or she might give some thought to the motivation 
  behind such a gesture. Dragons do not move about, converse 
  with strangers, or even wake up without a plan, set goal, or 
  some other mysterious purpose in mind. 
  Understanding a dragon’s motivation can be a relatively 
  simple task or an activity that takes a lifetime. These great 
  serpentine monsters do not think as humans do and will put 
  plans in motion that may only come to fruition in generations 
  to come. They will rarely share their motives, preferring to talk 
  in riddles or toy with the humans they encounter—providing 
  they choose only to toy with them.
  Mythos Connection
  Dragons are perhaps more likely to have Mythos connections 
  than other folklore creatures, because they are similarly 
  motivated. They are usually indifferent or antagonistic towards 
  human communities; they seek wealth, resources, and greater 
  power; and they are often driven by complex motives the 
  outcome of which humans cannot understand. While dragons 
  A Folklore Bestiary
  
  60
  Folklore
  might rarely work with Mythos cults, they might be inclined 
  to ally with a powerful sorcerer or, more ideally, a Great Old 
  One or other Mythos deity, particularly if that individual could 
  reward it with food, territory, arcane knowledge, or power.
  As noted above, Mythos entities are also often mistaken for 
  dragons. Chthonians and dholes, for example, are the great 
  “worms” of the Cthulhu Mythos. Hunting horrors or winged 
  dragon warriors of Yig are very similar in shape to wyverns 
  and winged serpents. The unique entity Ubb and the Great 
  Old One Othuum are terrifying sea monsters and could be the 
  very model of a sea serpent. On rare occasions, other Great 
  Old Ones such as Shudde M’ell or Yig, the father of serpents, 
  might be seen as especially large or powerful dragons or 
  drakes. Even a degenerate descendant of the serpent people 
  climbing out of a well could be mistaken for a diminutive 
  knucker. There are numerous other possibilities and Keepers 
  who have the Malleus Monstrorum supplement to hand will 
  have an excellent resource for learning more about these 
  draconic Mythos entities.
  The Wild Hunt
  There are many folktales of ghosts or devils riding through 
  the sky or across the wild countryside of Britain, but the story of 
  the wild hunt is particularly enigmatic and uncompromising. 
  The wild hunt as described in folk tradition represents a 
  virtually unstoppable, supernatural force, bent on running 
  down and ki
  lling its victims and caring little for those who get in its way. 
  The ghostly wild hunt is comprised of a terrifying, massive 
  horned huntsman leading a party of baying hounds and 
  accompanying mounted and unmounted spectral hunters. The 
  wild hunt’s purpose is to collect the souls of their chosen prey, 
  who include, amongst others: deceivers and oath-breakers, 
  suicides and the unfaithful, proud men and especially those 
  who seek forbidden knowledge and power.
  The terrible horned huntsman who leads this charge with 
  such relentless capacity is often identified as the ghost Herne 
  Dragons, Generic Statistics
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  STR
  5D6+30
  47–48
  CON
  5D6+15
  32–33
  SIZ
  6D6+30
  51
  INT
  3D6
  10–11
  POW
  3D6+6
  16–17
  DEX
  3D6
  10–11
  HP
  42
  Move: 8
  Damage Bonus: +5D6
  Skills: Sense Human 45%, and others as the Keeper 
  desires
  Weapons: Bite 50%, damage 2D6
  Claw 45%, damage 1D8+db
  Tail Bash 15%, damage 2D8
  Armour: 12-point scale and hide
  Spells: None, or as the Keeper desires
  Number appearing: 1
  Sanity Loss: 1 / 1D8 Sanity points to see a dragon
  Appearance: Folklore dragons can measure up to 75 feet 
  long and weigh several thousand pounds. While they share 
  many similar features (e.g. serpentine or draconic heads,
  huge fangs, scales and / or armoured hides, etc.), there are 
  important differences between various types of dragons. 
  Drakes, knuckers, and dragons themselves possess the 
  shape most commonly found in heraldry and described in 
  books, but may or may not be winged. Worms and wyrms 
  do not have wings and often do not have legs. Winged 
  serpents and wyverns always have wings, but often do not 
  possess front legs. Sea serpents often take the shape of sea-
  going worms and often are portrayed as having fins.  
  Special Ability: Fiery Breath – this special ability is 
  rare amongst British dragons, but it does present itself 
  from time to time. Anyone caught in a cloud of the dragon’s 
  fiery breath (at point blank or short range) takes 1D6+2 
  damage and his or her hair and clothing catch on fire. 
  At medium distance, damage is reduced to 1D4 points 
  of damage and the Keeper should roll Luck to see if the 
  investigator’s clothing and hair catch fire.
  A Note on Scale: The generic statistics given here are 
  only a guideline. The dragons of British folklore vary 
  considerably in regard to their strength, constitution, and 
  size. Some larger dragons might be two to three times 
  greater than the example provided above. Alternatively, 
  smaller varieties have statistics rounded down to one-third 
  or one-quarter of those provided.
  
  61
  the Hunter or the very Devil himself. Stories and imagery 
  of huntsmen wearing antlers or horns go back to the Celtic 
  horned god Cernunnos and to Odin of the Norse traditions 
  brought to Britain by the Vikings and the Danelaw. He is a 
  ghastly and merciless alien figure possessing dreadful, god-
  like powers and disdain for human life.
  The beasts and hunters that join the huntsman are similarly 
  otherworldly. The composition of the wild hunt varies from tale 
  to tale, but often numbers over forty determined hunters and 
  hounds. The earliest written reports of the wild hunt, dating 
  from early medieval times, give its membership decidedly 
  demonic appearances. The hounds that run alongside the 
  huntsman and hunters sound suspiciously like black dogs (as 
  described above) and the hunters are described as being huge 
  and hideous shades, some mounted on phantom steeds. Later 
  medieval romances, though, give them a fae aspect, and link 
  them very definitely with the fairy world; some even make the 
  huntsman himself a legendary leader such as King Arthur.
  To hear the baleful sounds made by the wild hunt is enough 
  to make men and women faint, but to see the hunt first hand 
  is enough to drive most witnesses insane. Like other ghosts 
  and spirits, seeing the wild hunt is often a predictor of death. 
  Other folk tales, though, suggest that seeing the wild hunt 
  determines that one’s soul is destined to join the hunt upon 
  In various parts of the British Isles, the Celtic 
  pantheon survived the Roman invasion and 
  the Romanization of several of its deities, and 
  existed as the primary pantheon worshipped in 
  ancient Britain for centuries. The Anglo-Saxon 
  invasion did much to push this Celtic influence 
  from England, and the rise of Christianity 
  effectively ended its worship in Wales, Scotland, 
  and Ireland, but memories of those old ways 
  remained in the countryside for some time 
  after everyone had ostensibly converted to 
  Christianity.
  In many ways, the Celtic pantheon was a 
  collection of strange and dark figures—perhaps 
  echoing old, barely understood legends of the 
  activities of Mythos deities and monsters. Below 
  is a brief list of the most significant Celtic 
  gods. Though Cernunnos is implicated in tales 
  of the wild hunt, many other Celtic gods can 
  similarly be associated with folklore tales found 
  throughout 1920s Britain.
  Bel – The god of life and death to whom Beltane 
  is dedicated.
  Brigit – A fertility goddess associated with the 
  feast of Imbolc.
  Cernunnos – “The Horned One,” god of 
  nature, animals, agriculture, prosperity and 
  the Otherworld. He may have, as time passed, 
  become the head of the pantheon and seems 
  to be the closest the Celts came to a universal 
  father god. His appearance, that of a man with 
  the antlers of a stag, may have contributed to 
  later interpretations of how the Devil looked.
  Donn – Known as the “Dark One,” Donn is the 
  Celtic god of the dead.
  Daghdha – God of fertility and abundance, 
  Daghdha is also known as the “Great Father”.
  Lugh – Lugh is the god of sun and sky and of 
  arts and crafts. The Celtic festival of Lúnasa or 
  Lughnasad is named after him.
  Manannan – The god of the oceans, and 
  specifically the sea journey to the Celtic 
  Otherworld.
  Morrigan – The grim goddess of war and the 
  earth.
  Oghma – God of writing and eloquence, Oghma 
  is said to have invented the runes and script 
  used by Celts.
  Taranis – The god of thunder whom the 
  Romans associated with Jupiter.
  As a final note of interest, the few descriptions 
  we have of the Celtic Otherworld might strike 
  investigators familiar with the Mythos as being 
  suspiciously like descriptions of the Dreamlands.
  T h e C e L T i C  P a n T h e O n 
  A Folklore Bestiary
  
  62
  Folklore
  death. Souls bound to the hunt are said to live forever in 
  whatever otherworld they inhabit (be it some hell or the fairy 
  realm), only to return to this world when the wild hunt rides 
  and collects new members or victims.
  The huntsman and the hunt are only seen at night, coursing 
  across dark ground and night sky, and are most often 
  encountered in rural areas and what remains of Britain’s 
  natural wilderness. The wild hunt awaits its prey during the 
  day, coming out after sunset to answer the huntsman’s call 
  and to deliver their prey to their fate. The huntsman is known 
  to abide in forests and woodlands, the more remote the better, 
  but he can be summoned in any substantial wild place. 
  The national parks and wildernesses throughout the British 
  Isles are potential habitations for the huntsman and his 
  ghostly companions. Windsor Great Park, for example, has 
  long been associated with the legendary hunter Herne and 
  sightings of the huntsman continue into the 1920s.
  Motivation
  The purpose of the wild hunt and the huntsman himself 
  varies little in British folklore: he and they are hunters of 
  souls, wicked or otherwise. The wild hunt is often portrayed 
  as enforcing the rules of the gods or the dark underworld, 
  pursuing and dragging souls to Hell and retribution. The 
  wild hunt embodies primal aggression, tooth and claw, and 
  the capricious cruelty of nature, even in a human form. The 
  motivation of the huntsman and the hunters is never in 
  question: they exist to hunt and to kill in service of the gods or 
  their own ideas of justice.
  Mythos Connection
  The wild hunt is even more ancient than the Celtic or Nordic 
  myths might have one surmise. The Huntsman is in fact the 
  avatar known as the Horned Man and one of the thousand 
  masks worn by the Outer God, Nyarlathotep. The Horned Man 
  or huntsman represents all that is wild and lustful. Though 
  The Horned Man, Avatar of Nyarlathotep
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  STR
  --
  29
  CON
  --
  48
  SIZ
  --
  20
  INT
  --
  86
  POW
  --
  50
  DEX
  --
  20
  HP
  34
  Move: 9
  Damage Bonus: +2D6
  Skills: As the Keeper desires
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 90%, damage 1D6+db
  Antlers / Gore 75%, damage 2D6+db
  Armour: None, but the Horned Man can heal himself 
  1D10 hit points for every spent magic point
  Spells: Alter Weather (see Special Abilities below), and 
  others at the Keeper’s discretion; additionally, the Horned 
  Man can control any animal at will
  Number appearing: 1
  Sanity Loss: 1 / 1D6 points to see the Horned Man; 
  hearing the wild hunt costs 0 / 1D2 and seeing it costs 1 
  / 1D8 (or higher if other Mythos creatures or entities are 
  included)
  Appearance: The Horned Man is seven feet tall with a 
  slightly hunched back. He resembles a skinned corpse, whose 
  muscles, bone and blood are all on show. His muscles writhe 
  and twist around his bones in an ever-flowing motion that is 
  extremely distressing to witness. His face is featureless, save 
  for two coal-like eyes that burn with deep malevolence and 
  cruel joy. Crowning his head are two great, deformed stag 
  antlers that end in vicious hooks and barbs. The Horned 
  Man stands on great, cloven black hooves. Anyone killed by 
  this Avatar of Nyarlathotep lingers indefinitely at the point 
  of death, crippled and torn, but unable to die, waiting until 
  the Horned Man drags him away to join Azathoth’s court or 
  makes him serve as part of the wild hunt.
  Special Ability: Alter Weather – the Horned Man 
  can change cloud cover, wind direction, and levels of 
  precipitation, temperature, and wind speed within a two-mile 
  radius. Each alteration (e.g. from clear to foggy weather, from 
  calm to breezy, from 5 degrees to 10 degrees, etc.) costs 5 
  magic points. The changes lasts 30 minutes for every further 
  5 magic points spent and the radius of effect can be increased 
  by 1 mile for every further 5 magic points spent.
  For a more in-depth discussion of the Horned Man avatar, 
  his cults, and various characteristics, Keepers can refer to 
  the Malleus Monstrorum supplement. 
  
  63
  worship of Nyarlathotep in this particular form has declined 
  over the centuries, many do still remember the Horned Man 
  and the wild hunt. In the dark and wild places of the United 
  Kingdom, his twisted taint can still be felt. The wild hunt is 
  the name given to the Horned Man avatar and his unnatural 
  entourage when they ride forth to hunt souls. The composition 
  of the wild hunt is for Nyarlathotep to decide and he will on 
  occasion call upon the Hounds of Tindalos and other dreadful 
  Mythos monsters to help him carry out his dark will.
  Steed of Yeth
  Yeth is a grove deep in the Dreamlands, a place of influence for 
  Nyarlathotep and his cults and followers. The grove appears to 
  be little more than a stand of trees, but as one enters into it, it 
  opens out into a great, twisted forest, filled with many forms 
  of unnatural life and thick with a musky mist. The Huntsman 
  abides here when he is not called to the Hunt and this is where 
  he collects his steed and his pack for the pursuit.
  Steed of Yeth, Mount of the Huntsman
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  STR
  3D6+18
  28–29
  CON
  3D6+8
  18–19
  SIZ
  4D6+12
  26
  INT
  --
  --
  POW
  3D6
  10–11
  DEX
  3D6
  10–11
  HP
  22–23
  Move: 12
  Damage Bonus: +2D6
  Skills: Dodge 45%, Hide 25%, Sneak 25%
  Weapons: Barbed hooves 50%, damage 1D8+db
  Bite 50%, damage 1D10+db
  Armour: 2-points skin and muscle, and the steed takes 
  half damage from physical attacks, but full damage from 
  magic, fire or electricity
  Spells: None
  Number appearing: 1
  Sanity Loss: 1 / 1D6 Sanity points to see a steed of Yeth
  Appearance: The steed of Yeth is the huntsman’s mount, 
  a horse-like creature with a skull-like face and a body that 
  is a writhing mass of suppurating black muscle and bone. 
  Unlike a horse, the steed of Yeth is carnivorous, its mouth 
  filled with a mass of hooked teeth like those of a shark and 
  its hooves twisted into wicked barbs.
  A Folklore Bestiary
  
  64
  Folklore
  Harriers of Yeth
  Harriers of Yeth are the hunting dogs of the wild hunt, the baying 
  hounds that pursue, run down and flush out the huntsman’s 
  prey, and even drag it down with their teeth and claws.
  Harriers of Yeth, Hounds of the Wild Hunt
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  STR
  3D6+6
  16–17
  CON
  4D6
  14
  SIZ
  3D6+1
  11–12
  INT
  --
  --
  POW
  3D6
  10–11
  DEX
  3D6+6
  16–17
  HP
  12–13
  Move: 12
  Damage Bonus: +1D4
  Skills: Dodge 55%, Hide 25%, Sneak 35%
  Weapons: Bite 40%, damage 1D8+db
  Hoof 40%, damage 1D6+db
  Armour: 2-points skin and muscle, and the hound 
  takes half damage from physical attacks, but full 
  damage from magic, fire or electricity
  Spells: None
  Number appearing: 1D4
  Sanity Loss: 1 / 1D6 Sanity points to see a harrier of 
  Yeth
  Appearance: 
  Harriers of Yeth resemble half-
  decomposed wolves with matted, oily fur and jagged, 
  criss-cross teeth. They have bladed hooves instead of 
  paws, and their flesh seems to writhe with the same 
  unnatural motions as that of the huntsman and his 
  steed.
  Summon the Wild Hunt & 
  Summon / Bind Minion of Yeth
  New Spell: Summon the Wild Hunt
  Summon The Wild Hunt requires a stone altar 
  consecrated to Nyarlathotep. An offering, usually in 
  the form of a horse or large dog, is offered up and the 
  huntsman invoked in the name of the Horned Man 
  (though one of Nyarlathotep’s many other guises might 
  work just as well). The rite must be cast at night and 
  costs the caster and any additional participants a total 
  of 12 magic points between them. The caster loses 1D6 
  Sanity points and any additional casters lose 1D4, while 
  any observers must make SAN rolls should the casting 
  be successful. If successful the huntsman, mounted 
  upon a steed of Yeth and accompanied by 2D4 harriers 
  of Yeth, will appear through a portal from atop the altar 
  and wait to be told whom it is that they hunt. The hunt 
  ends with the defeat of the hunter or the death of the 
  hunted.
  New Spell: Summon / Bind Minion of Yeth
  To summon either a steed of Yeth or 1D4 harriers of 
  Yeth casters must first brew and drink a draught as per 
  Brew Dream Drug (see the spell description in the Call 
  of Cthulhu rulebook). Casters must successfully dream 
  of Yeth, requiring a Cthulhu Mythos roll to imagine 
  it correctly and find their way, and must then make 
  offerings in that dank, benighted place. Casters must 
  offer up 4 magic points to sculpt the dream into an 
  appropriate sacrifice and lose 1D4 Sanity points. The 
  following night the summoned creature(s) will make 
  themselves known to the caster and will do his or her 
  bidding until the following dawn.
  
  The Folklore Calendar
  
  66
  Folklore
   -The Folklore Calendar-
  “It is an unfortunate fact that the bulk of humanity is too 
  limited in its mental vision to weigh with patience and 
  intelligence those isolated phenomena, seen and felt only by 
  a psychologically sensitive few, which lie outside its common 
  experience.”
  (Howard Phillips Lovecraft, The Tomb, 1922)
  T
  he folklore calendar of the United Kingdom is a very full 
  one. Few weeks of the year pass in Britain without some 
  event or ritual taking place that calls back to, or makes use 
  of, folklore tradition. In this section, a selection of significant 
  dates are drawn from the numerous and varied events that 
  happen annually across England, Northern Ireland, Scotland, 
  and Wales. There are vast numbers of regional variations for 
  each of the entries below, providing Keepers with endless 
  opportunity for adaptation or the wholesale creation of new 
  folklore events.
  Some folklore events fall neatly into Call of Cthulhu scenarios 
  and campaigns. For example, Samhain and Hallowe’en 
  provide potent backdrops for investigations into mysterious 
  or otherworldly events; however, even the most unlikely 
  of candidates, say Christmas or St. Valentine’s Day, can 
  be used to create rich settings, taking on dark themes and 
  terrible portents. Indeed, breaking with tradition is a great 
  way to invent novel situations for the characters. Thus, each 
  date listed below has potential: something as simple as well-
  dressings or as outrageous as the Day of the Burryman could 
  have a sinister Mythos connection. 
  - The Folklore Year -
  Although presented below in the order of the civic Gregorian 
  calendar, prior to the end of the 16th Century a number of other 
  calendars heralded the beginning and end of the year. The Celtic 
  calendar, for example, ended with the harvest and started with 
  the coming of winter (November 1st; Samhain). Differences or 
  puzzling interrelationships between calendar traditions could 
  present investigators with interesting challenges. As ever, 
  Keepers are encouraged to play on the players’ preconceptions 
  to bring about interesting gameplay possibilities.
  January
  1st of January – New Year’s Day – New Year’s Day is 
  traditionally one of the most celebrated days in the folklore 
  calendar, filled with merriment and feasting. A common 
  practice across Britain in the 1920s is “First Footing”, 
  whereupon neighbours or well-wishers arrive early in the day 
  with gifts (usually in the form of whisky and cake) to share 
  a drink, a compliment, and to exchange best wishes for the 
  coming year. 
  2nd of January – The Unluckiest Day – Harkening 
  back to an old Anglo-Saxon tradition, this day is deemed to 
  be the unluckiest in the whole calendar, with all manner of 
  misfortunes becoming possible.
  5th of January – Twelfth Night / Twelfthtide – Twelfth 
  Night (the twelfth night after Christmas) marks the end of the 
  Celtic winter festival, begun on All Hallows Eve (October 31st). 
  The symbolic order of things is believed to be reversed on this 
  day (e.g. right is wrong, rich are poor, etc.), overseen by the 
  mythic Lord of Misrule or Abbot of Unreason, until midnight 
  when their reign ends and world order is restored. The following 
  Monday is known as Plough Monday or St. Distaff’s Day and 
  marks the day on which men and women would return to work. 
  Twelfth Night is associated with the Holly Man (Green Man) 
  “bringing in the green”, Mummer’s plays (pantomime morality 
  plays highlighting the struggle between good and evil), and 
  wassailing (toasting people’s good health).
  13th of January – Coldest Day / St. Hilary’s Feast Day 
  – A commonly held belief is that the winter’s cold would be 
  most severe on or near the 13th of January.
  20th of January – St. Agnes’ Eve – On this eve, unmarried 
  women and girls could undertake rituals to secure dreams of 
  their future husbands. The rituals involved such things as 
  fasting, eating specially prepared “dumb cakes” or walking 
  upstairs backwards.
  Last Tuesday in January – Up Helly Aa – Britain’s largest 
  fire festival is held in Lerwick, Scotland, on this day, culminating 
  with the ritual burning of a replica Viking longship.
  66
  Folklore
  
  67
  February
  1st of February – Imbolc / St. Bride’s Day – Imbolc is 
  the feast of the Celtic Spring goddess, dating back thousands 
  of years. 
   
  2nd of February – Candlemas – The Christian festival of 
  light. The celebration harkens back to ancient, pagan festivals 
  that marked winter’s mid-point, halfway between the winter 
  solstice and the spring equinox. The candles are used to 
  illuminate the long winter darkness and push back bogeymen 
  and evil spirits. It was also believed that the weather on 
  Candlemas day could be used to predict the weather for the 
  remaining winter period, as in this traditional couplet:
  “If Candlemas Day be fair and bright, Winter will 
  have another fight.
  If Candlemas Day brings cloud and rain, Winter 
  won’t come again.”
  12th – 14th of February – Borrowed Days – These 
  days are considered to be “borrowed” from January and the 
  weather on these days can predict the weather for the coming 
  year: sunny weather on the borrowed days would indicate 
  a miserable and stormy year to come, whereas wet weather 
  would indicate a fine year ahead.
  14th of February – St. Valentine’s Day – The day on 
  which birds choose their mates and the date associated with 
  numerous human traditions regarding courtship and love, 
  most notably the exchange of paper or clay hearts.
  29th of February – Leap Day / Year – Throughout the 
  UK, tradition states that women may propose marriage on leap 
  years and need not rely on the man to come forward and ask.
  March
  1st of March – St. David’s Day / Dydd Gŵyl Dewi – 
  March 1st celebrates St. David, the patron saint of Wales, and 
  is sometimes marked by the wearing of red clothing. 
  17th of March – St. Patrick’s Day / Lá Fhéile Pádraig 
  - The patron saint of Ireland, St. Patrick, is celebrated on this 
  day and it is common for people to wear green and shamrocks.
  21st of March – Spring Equinox – The vernal equinox 
  marks the first moment of spring and figures greatly in druidic 
  ceremonies and many folk traditions as the symbolic moment 
  when life returns to the natural world.
  25th of March – Lady Day – It is said that some great 
  disaster will happen to England should Easter land on Lady 
  Day, as found in the following traditional rhyme:
  “When my Lord falls in my Lady’s lap;
  England beware of some grave mishap.”
  April
  1st of April – April Fool’s Day / Fool’s Day – Pranks, 
  hoaxes, and practical jokes of all sorts are entertained on this 
  day that has been celebrated for hundreds of years, although 
  no one is quite certain of its origin.
  14th of April – St. Tiburtis’ Day / Cuckoo Day – Cuckoos 
  are known to start singing on this day until St. John’s Day 
  (24th of June) and many festivals are associated with this sign 
  of the arrival of spring.
  23rd of April – St. George’s Day – April 23rd celebrates 
  the life of St. George, England’s patron saint, made famous for 
  slaying a dragon which threatened an English village. Many 
  pageants across England are held on the day.
  The Folklore Calendar
  
  68
  Folklore
  30th of April – Walpurgis Night / Beltane Eve – Bonfires 
  lit on Walpurgis Night celebrate the start of the Celtic summer. 
  May
  1st of May – May Day / Garland Day – Marking the end 
  of spring and the coming of summer, May Day celebrates the 
  return of the summer sun and the prosperity it brings. Girls 
  rising at dawn can rush out to wash their faces with the May 
  dew, which will ensure beauty throughout the year and remove 
  spots and other blemishes. Many regions of Great Britain have 
  their own unique ways of celebrating May Day. In Derbyshire, 
  for example, the day is commemorated with traditional well-
  dressings (decorating local wells with pictures made from 
  flower petals, seeds, etc.), a practice going back hundreds of 
  years and a local event that lasts into September.
  1st – 2nd of May – Beltane / Calan Mai – Beltane (Irish/
  Scots) or Calan Mai (Welsh) is the Celtic feast of Bel and Tin, 
  the Celtic gods of the Underworld and of Fire, respectively. 
  Usually falling in the first week of May, festivals taking place 
  during Beltane celebrate the coming of summer.
  15th of May – Whitsun / Summer’s Day (Old Beltane) 
  – Marked by festivals, Morris dancing, and feasting, similar in 
  many respects to Beltane, celebrating the first day of summer 
  and the start of the summer season. 
  Unlucky Days of May – Just why it is the case, no one knows, 
  but May is home to more unlucky days than any other month: 
  May 3rd, 6th, 7th, 13th, 14th, 15th, and 20th are considered to 
  be particularly unlucky. Additionally, May is considered to be 
  a terrible month in which to marry, hence the saying: “Marry 
  in May, and you’ll rue the day!”. Stranger still, some believe 
  that washing or bathing in May will lead to death, leading to 
  such rhymes as: “Those who bathe in May will soon be under 
  clay” and “If you wash a blanket in May, You will wash one 
  of the family away”.
  June
  21st – 24th of June – Summer Solstice / Midsummer 
  / The Longest Day – The exact date varies between regions. 
  The longest day of the year is often marked with little public 
  fanfare across most of Great Britain, but it is said to be greatly 
  celebrated by Fairy folk, witches, and druids with bonfires, 
  feasting and dancing. Some traditions suggest that the 
  witches and fey creatures travel to dark assemblies with old 
  gods. Midsummer Eve is potentially a dangerous time when 
  evil spirits and powerful beings are free to roam the earth, so 
  bonfires were lit to protect against these shadowy creatures. 
  A different interpretation suggests that the bonfires are lit to 
  strengthen the weakening and waning sun. 
  July
  15th of July – St. Swithin’s Day – St. Swithin’s Day is 
  notable for weather-watchers as the weather on the day is said 
  to predict the weather for the next forty days:
  “St Swithun’s day if thou dost rain, For forty days it 
  will remain;
  St Swithun’s day if thou be fair, For forty days ‘twill 
  rain nae mare.”
  25th of July – St. James’ Day / Grotto Day – In England, 
  small caves and ornamental grottos are created by children 
  from shells, especially scallop or cockle shells which represent 
  St. James. Children would then sit on porches and steps beside 
  their grottos, hoping to receive a penny or two, singing the 
  following traditional tune:
  “Please remember the Grotto. It’s only once a year. 
  Father’s gone to sea.
  Mother’s gone to bring him back, So please 
  remember me.”
  August
  1st of August – Lammas / Calan Awst / Lúnasa / Lughnasad 
  – Lammas (England), Calan Awst (Welsh), Lúnasa (Scots 
  Gaelic), and Lughnasad (Irish Gaelic) are the regional festivals 
  associated with the first of the yearly harvests. Thanksgiving 
  and feasting go hand in hand as the people celebrate Nature’s 
  bounty. A truly ancient festival, its exact origins have been lost 
  to time, but the earliest cultures in Britain are believed to have 
  held the first of August sacred. The Anglo-Saxons marked the 
  day as the “Feast of the First Fruits.”
  15th of August – Feast of St. Mary / Là Féill Moire – 
  Another important harvest festival not long after Lammas, 
  the traditions behind the Feast of St. Mary hinge on providing 
  protection for family and friends over the coming year.
  August Fairs – August is a popular month for festivals and 
  fairs, and a vast number of events take place every year across 
  the British Isles. Riding fairs stand alongside music festivals; 
  games festivals take place alongside cattle fairs. Various 
  
  69
  rituals and folkloric traditions belong to each of these fairs 
  and festivals. One of the more peculiar rituals that take place 
  in Scotland is the Day of the Burryman when a man dressed 
  from head to toe in burdock burrs parades along the southern 
  coast of the Firth of Forth. The meaning of this ancient ritual 
  has long been forgotten but most believe the presence of the 
  Burryman wards off evil spirits. 
  September
  21st – 22nd of September – Autumnal (Vernal) Equinox 
  – The autumnal equinox is marked by rituals and ceremonies 
  commemorating harvest and the need to give thanks. 
  24th of September – Harvest Day / Calling the Mare 
  / Corn Dollies – The traditional beginning of the harvesting 
  season in England, a period of concentrated labour for 
  farmers and fieldworkers. “Calling the Mare” is a friendly 
  ceremony used to encourage each farmer to hasten his or her 
  harvest. Using the last sheaves of wheat, the farmers create a 
  rough mare representation that they then hurl into the fields 
  of farmers not finished harvesting whilst calling out “Mare, 
  mare, mare!” The receiving farmer must then do his best to 
  finish his harvest and rid himself of the mare by hurling it into 
  another farmer’s field. The last to complete his harvest has to 
  keep the mare on display in his farm for the coming year as a 
  reminder. Meanwhile children were encouraged to make corn 
  dollies from the last sheaf of corn to keep the corn goddess 
  alive over the winter. 
  29th of September – Michaelmas Day / Goose Day – The 
  traditional end of the harvesting season. Traditions abound on 
  Michaelmas Day: for example, finding a ring in a Michaelmas 
  pie suggests marriage will soon find you; trees planted on 
  Michaelmas Day will grow tall and strong; and eating a goose 
  on Michaelmas day will bring good fortune, as noted in the 
  traditional rhyme:
  “Eat a goose on Michaelmas Day, Want not for 
  money all the year.”
  October
  10th of October – Old Michaelmas Day / Mop Fair 
  – Old Michaelmas Day represents the end of the traditional 
  labourer’s year. On this day, labourers and servants go to the 
  centre of town seeking out new employment for the year to 
  come, bringing their tools (in the case of maids, their mops) 
  with them.
  18th of October – St. Luke’s Day – On St. Luke’s Day girls 
  who wish to dream of their future husbands must apply honey, 
  vinegar and various spices to their faces and go to bed singing 
  the traditional, rhyming couplet:
  “St. Luke, St. Luke, be kind to me; In dreams let me 
  my true love see.” 
  31st of October – Hallowe’en – On this hallowed night 
  all manner of spirits, good and evil, have leave to wander and 
  do what mischief they might. As a result, it is quite common 
  for mischievous pranks—human-devised or otherwise—to be 
  blamed on the Fairy Folk who are believed to hold special 
  revels on that night. Pranks commonly carried out in rural 
  locations include: moving farmers’ tools or livestock, throwing 
  apples or turnips at doors, upsetting carts, tearing up cabbages 
  (often for the purpose of plugging chimneys), and similar. In 
  towns and cities, most pranksters suffice with knocking on 
  doors, throwing eggs (and sometimes stones) at windows, and 
  running about in fancy dress. Hollowed out turnips or beets 
  with carved faces are commonly placed in windows and lit 
  with candles to frighten off evil spirits. 
  November
  1st of November – Samhain / Hallowmas / All Saints 
  Day – Samhain, often considered to run from October 31st to 
  November 1st, is the Celtic feast of the sead and signals the last 
  harvest of the year; also Samhuinn (Scots), Sauin (Gaelic), and 
  Shamhna (Irish). It also stands as the Celtic New Year. 
  4th of November – Mischief Night – A night devoted 
  to mischief and pranks, one of the most traditional being to 
  remove things from their rightful place and move them to, or 
  hide them in, other places.
  5th of November – Bonfire Night – A relatively recent 
  tradition (a little over 400 years old), bonfires, fireworks, and 
  revelry are the main entertainments with effigies often being 
  sacrificed to the raging fires as the night progresses. 
  11th of November – Martinmas / Old Hallowmas – 
  Martinmas, or the Feast of St. Martin, is commemorated with 
  festivities and feasting, and like Mop Fair (10th October) is a 
  time for hiring labourers for the coming year.
  30th of November – St. Andrew’s Day – The 30th 
  of November is devoted to the patron saint of Scotland, St. 
  Andrew. 
  The Folklore Calendar
  
  70
  Folklore
  December
  21st of December – Winter Solstice – The first day of the 
  traditional winter season.
  24th of December – Christmas Eve – A time for 
  celebration in preparation for Christmas Day. It is said that on 
  Christmas Eve, animals can speak, but it is believed to be very 
  bad luck to try to hear them do so.
  25th of December – Christmas Day – In 1920s Britain 
  most of the traditions used today (e.g. exchanging gifts, 
  feasting, festive games, etc.) were already an established part 
  of Christmas (or La Nollaig in Gaelic). Feasting, gift giving, 
  games, and carolling are just a few of the traditional activities 
  that take place on Christmas Day.
  28th of December – Unluckiest Day of the Year – Tread 
  lightly on December 28th for it is widely held as the unluckiest 
  day of the year.
  31st of December – New Years’ Eve – the celebration 
  of the last night of the calendar year, usually involving much 
  drinking and merriment, and part of the Scottish tradition of 
  Hogmanay (Oidhche na Calluinn in Gaelic). Hogmanay runs 
  from New Years’ Eve through New Years’ Day and sometimes 
  spills over into January 2nd. A joyous, extended celebration of 
  well-wishing, drinking and partying, Hogmanay serves as a way 
  to wish friends, families, and strangers alike a “guid New Year”.
  Omens and Bad Luck
  “Monday for wealth, Tuesday for health, Wednesday the 
  best day of all,
  Thursday for curses, Friday for losses, Saturday no luck 
  at all.”
  (Old English rhyme)
  All manner of superstition, from the banal to the extraordinary, 
  is found in British folklore tradition. The majority have to do with 
  avoiding bad luck. Here is just a small selection of events and omens 
  that investigators may want to watch out for:
  •	
  It is unlucky for visitors to enter a house through the back door.
  •	
  To see a snail, a new foal or young horse, or to hear a cuckoo 
  call before one has had their breakfast means the day will be 
  an unlucky one.
  •	
  Tables must always be set from left to right or bad luck will 
  befall all who dine at it.
  •	
  Rocking an empty cradle will soon see it occupied by a 
  newborn babe.
  •	
  A crow that caws all through the night from sundown to 
  sunrise indicates that death is coming to an individual in the 
  direction the crow faces.
  •	
  Spying a new moon through glass leads to grave misfortune.
  •	
  The persistent baying of a dog after sundown means someone 
  will die that night.
  •	
  January and May are ill-favoured months and one should not 
  even step out of doors, if at all possible, on January 2nd or 
  May 14th.
  
   
  Old Ones and Old Gods
  
   -Old Ones and Old Gods-
  “Some were the figures of well-known myth—gorgons, 
  chimaeras, dragons, cyclops, and all their shuddersome 
  congeners. Others were drawn from darker and more 
  furtively whispered cycles of subterranean legend—black, 
  formless Tsathoggua, many-tentacled Cthulhu, proboscidian 
  Chaugnar Faugn, and other rumoured blasphemies from 
  forbidden books like the Necronomicon, the Book of Eibon, or 
  the Unaussprechlichen Kulten of von Junzt.” 
  (Howard Phillips Lovecraft, 
  The Horror in the Museum, 1932)
  T
  he Outer Gods of the Cthulhu Mythos are the only true 
  gods in the universe, and are worshipped in many forms. 
  Those who worship them directly are cultists, but if you peel 
  away all the folk traditions and false names, then the Outer 
  Gods can be found behind nearly every deity. Call her Bridget, 
  call her Mary, call her by the name of every fertility goddess 
  and saint that is venerated by rural communities praying for a 
  good harvest, but her true name is Shub-Niggurath. Similarly, 
  Yog-Sothoth is the truth behind every sky god; mercurial 
  Nyarlathotep is every local devil, every trickster, and every 
  shape-shifter.
  Dancing round the maypole to bring fertility might be 
  originally derived from the worship of Shub-Niggurath, 
  but that does not mean that everyone at the village fête is 
  a cultist—rather, it implies that the dark goddess Shub-
  Niggurath is inescapable, and all fertility goddesses and spirits 
  are ultimately masks for her. (This interconnectedness may be 
  an excellent way to disturb investigators that have too much 
  knowledge of the Cthulhu Mythos, as they will start seeing 
  potent Mythos connections appearing everywhere, in every 
  place name and in every old superstition.) 
  Humanity exists in the shadow of these ancient and terrible 
  powers: the Mythos is behind us, before us, and beneath us; 
  indeed, it is all around us, but we are too small, too weak-
  minded, to perceive it directly. We see only the horrors nearest 
  us and then only dimly, wreathed in shadowy memories and 
  remembered as horrific myths and legends—so petrifying that 
  we must cloak them in stories to make them bearable. Only the 
  doomed investigators look for the truth behind the tales and 
  legends, and shudder at the terrors they find there.
   - Mythos Entities to Consider -
  Listed below is a selection of appropriate Mythos entities 
  and monsters that could easily be incorporated into folklore 
  scenarios and campaigns taking place in 1920s Britain. This 
  is by no means an exclusive or exhaustive list: there will be 
  others, dark Gods and their servitors, who have reasons 
  to come to these small islands, and, of course, there will 
  also be those unique to these and all other shores, not to be 
  found elsewhere, perhaps newly arrived from the gulfs of 
  intergalactic space.
  Chthonians
  Though the United Kingdom is made up of a series of islands, 
  chthonians may well be present, having been here since ages 
  past or having arrived recently, digging deep into the earth’s 
  crust to avoid the seas and oceans. Once here, the chthonians 
  find themselves locked in between Britain’s shores, hemmed 
  in by water on all sides and having to put up with a decidedly 
  green, but rain-sodden landscape. Nonetheless, folktales are 
  full of stories about caves, chasms, and deep places in which 
  the chthonians might thrive. Alternatively, the chthonians 
  inhabiting Britain could be seen as relatively weak, a lonely 
  or even starving breed, held apart from the greater numbers 
  found in the vast continents and made more desperate 
  because of it.
  Colours out of Space
  It is possible that Britain might once have been a prime 
  feeding ground for the Colours out of Space, their warping, 
  twisting, and mutating abilities responsible for dark tales 
  about the strangeness and danger of the forests, of fairy lights 
  and earthlights. The Colours might be behind historic blights 
  and famines that have struck the United Kingdom or could 
  have had a hand in the deforestation of the British Isles. More 
  indirectly, the transmuting and transfiguring powers of the 
  Colours out of Space might be the cause of the emergence of 
  many of the strange and terrible beasts that were said to roam 
  the land in ancient times and found their way into folklore.
  72
  Folklore
  
  73
  Cthugha and Fire Vampires
  The Great Old One, Cthugha, and its fire vampire servants 
  are amongst the oldest visitors to Earth, and the fire festivals 
  are some of the oldest and most enduring celebrations in the 
  British calendar. Even the name bonfire stems from the Middle 
  English “bane fire” or “bone fire” and was associated with 
  festivals of the dead, where fires in which bones were burned 
  were common. In the 1920s, Cthugha’s cults are relatively 
  rare, and those who engage in the various fire festivals and 
  feats of daring with burning bales and tarred barrels are 
  unlikely to remember who, or what, it is that they venerate 
  with their actions.
  Shub-Niggurath and the Dark Young
  Agricultural life, the flow of the seasons, and the fertility of the 
  animals and the fields have always been a huge part of life in 
  the British Isles, and so it is little wonder that Shub-Niggurath 
  has been worshipped in many guises over the course of 
  British history and continues to be venerated today. Many of 
  the old rites dedicated to The Black Goat of the Woods and 
  its Thousand Young have been given a thin Christian veneer 
  and changed drastically from their nigh-orgiastic roots. Still, 
  druids, witches, and other cunning folk might have some 
  understanding of the black god to which they truly call. Still 
  others, namely those who worship the newer human gods, 
  may instinctively or unconsciously understand this link, 
  though desperately trying to stamp out witchcraft and pagan 
  ways, which they see as the Devil’s work. 
  Images of horns and cloven hooves so common to much of 
  British folklore are often now taken as manifestations of 
  the Devil and before that were attributed to Cernunnos and 
  others, but this imagery owes its origins to the one true Black 
  Goat of the Woods. Far from being forgotten, cults and covens 
  still persist in 1920s Britain and continue to grow in the dark 
  and hidden places of the British Isles far from the eyes of 
  government and religious institutions.
  Deep Ones
  Much of the south of England was once beneath the waves 
  and might, in that watery prehistory, have been populated 
  by the deep ones themselves. The exposed remnants of their 
  once-great cities, dwellings, and places of worship may have 
  inspired the ancient peoples of Britain to worship them in 
  turn. Their weather-worn menhirs may still remain at some 
  of the stone circles and other Neolithic sites dotted across the 
  landscape. On the eastern shores of the island the sea still 
  threatens to reclaim the land, just as it wears away at the chalk 
  cliffs in the south, and many villages have been lost to the 
  waves over time, though perhaps they have not been lost at 
  all. Meanwhile, deep one cities and outposts might lie just off 
  the coasts of Scotland, Wales, or Northern Ireland.
  Dholes
  Though rarely seen on Earth, the descriptions of many 
  dragons and giant “worms” mentioned in folk tales around the 
  United Kingdom often seem to match up with the descriptions 
  of juvenile dholes. These young dholes might well appear as 
  noisome, slimy creatures that, legend tells, have shaped whole 
  landscapes by winding around hills, forests, and even cities.
  Ghouls
  Wars, plagues, blights, and famine have meant that a 
  succession of peoples and cultures have been buried across the 
  British Isles. In the 1920s, Britain is home to huge numbers 
  of cemeteries and other, older places where peoples’ bodies 
  are interred. For the ghouls of Britain, there is rich feeding 
  amongst the bones and charnel of these ancient peoples. The 
  kingdom’s necropolises and cemeteries are no doubt home 
  to these dog-like scavengers, inhabiting dark pits, closed-off 
  crypts, tunnels, and deep caves. 
  Folktales of werewolves tell of human-canine hybrids that haunt 
  ancient dwelling places and burial grounds, opening graves, 
  feeding off the dead, and exuding a pall of death. It is likely that 
  in some places, cults of humans and other creatures conspire 
  with the Ghouls in exchange for their wisdom, their magic, or 
  some hint as to the secret of their hideous transformation.
  Glaaki and his Undead Servants
  Great Glaaki is known to live beneath a lake somewhere in 
  the Severn Valley in western England, haunting the dreams 
  of nearby villages and, whenever possible, adding to its cult of 
  undead servitors. These Servants of Glaaki—ghastly, undead 
  creatures animated by the will of the foul god—are its horrible 
  agents on the surface, and are most numerous in England, 
  Old Ones and Old Gods
  
  74
  Folklore
  but can be found almost anywhere in the United Kingdom, 
  fulfilling some terrible and cryptic task. Glaaki’s ability to gate 
  from one large body of water to another allows it to grow its 
  terrible army while extending its powerful psychic pull over 
  the whole country. 
  Great Race of Yith
  Britain has held such a prominent place in recent history that 
  it is no wonder that the Great Race of Yith has shown interest 
  in the affairs of the United Kingdom and the knowledge 
  held in the minds of its great thinkers and leaders. Indeed, 
  given the massive advances in, and contributions to, science 
  and human understanding coming out of the British Isles 
  during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, it might not 
  be entirely out of place to imagine that a cult was aiding or 
  working with the Yithians in exchange for technological and 
  scientific insights.
  Hunting Horrors
  The Hunting Horrors, servitors of the greater powers of the 
  Mythos, might be another possible source of the folktales 
  regarding worms and dragons throughout the United Kingdom. 
  Their knowledge of magic combined with their unwholesome 
  and unnatural appearance makes them a plausible fit. It is 
  possible that sorcerers or cults from ages past have summoned 
  the Horrors to do their bidding or destroy their enemies, 
  requiring the knights and heroes of old to battle against these 
  powerful “drakes” or “wyverns.”
  Insects from Shaggai
  The mind-controlling, infesting insects from Shaggai may lie 
  behind numerous barbaric and horrific acts immortalized in 
  the most gruesome folk tales and legends. The parasitic lob 
  are known to range across Wales and England, and have been 
  recorded in Northern Ireland and Scotland, invisibly feeding 
  off the intellect and emotions of humans. Wherever violence, 
  death, and horror are found, the lob—in fact, the insects 
  from Shaggai—are there, interfering and controlling people: 
  pushing them to depraved acts, manipulating human minds 
  and actions to increase suffering and torment, and instilling 
  men with the desire for murder and war. Rarely seen, but 
  often felt, the insects infect mankind and delight in torturing 
  their mind-controlled slaves. 
  Men of K’n-Yan
  It is very likely that there are entrances to the vast, 
  underground realm of K’n-Yan in various locations across 
  1920s Britain. The mining tunnels beneath the Welsh hills 
  or coal pits in the Scottish lowlands might well lead further 
  down to the subterranean world of the Men of K’n-Yan. The 
  K’n-Yani are likely behind the many myths of “fairy mounds” 
  and mysterious other worlds. One especially evocative story of 
  K’n-Yani activity is the tale of the “Green Children of Woolpit.” 
  In this story, a pair of green-skinned children appeared in the 
  village of Woolpit in Suffolk. These strange children claimed 
  to come from an underground world called St. Martin’s Land, 
  according to Historia rerum anglicarum. While the boy child 
  sickened and died, his sister lived out her life in Woolpit, 
  slowly forgetting her origins over time. Perhaps these children 
  were in fact lost scions of the K’n-Yani?
  Mi-go, the Fungi from Yuggoth
  The mi-go have long had an interest in the Highlands and 
  mountains of Scotland, mining them for the precious metals 
  and ores that they require for their own dark projects. It is 
  foolish to imagine that the alien plans of the mi-go were satisfied 
  with inhabiting northern Scotland. At one time or another it is 
  likely that the mi-go have managed or controlled areas in all the 
  regions of the United Kingdom, leaving their mark in tunnels 
  and caves, in stories and the actions of their followers. Though 
  in 1920s Britain, Scotland still remains their spearhead in the 
  British Isles, groups of agents and individual mi-go scientists 
  have certainly invaded most of the country’s cities. 
  More willing to work with humans than most other species of 
  the Cthulhu Mythos, the mi-go have established cults and cells 
  of activity through Britain. This same activity has most likely 
  gone on for most of Britain’s history. Small cults of followers, 
  impressed by mi-go technology and their alien sciences, will be 
  complicit in helping the fungi from Yuggoth achieve their plans.
  Nyarlathotep and the Servitors 
  of the Outer Gods
  Music plays a large role in the folklore of the British Isles, and 
  while much of this is probably due to the playful torments of 
  Nyarlathotep, the sounds of pipes, drums, and fiddles turn up 
  in more tales than that trickster-messenger can account for. 
  
  75
  The other members of Azathoth’s mad court might also make 
  their presence felt in the wild places and deep tunnels, drawing 
  people down into their strange underworlds and driving them 
  mad with the revelations that they encounter there.
  It seems likely that Nyarlathotep is responsible for many 
  of the “devil tales” of trickery, debauchery, and diabolic 
  challenges that form so many cautionary tales. These have 
  turned into stories about the Devil taking people away for not 
  following the religious rules about the Sabbath or punishing 
  people’s arrogance, but as with so many other tales, their roots 
  are probably deeper, and Nyarlathotep would revel in luring 
  people to die from their own failings or driving them insane, 
  step by terrible step.
  Serpent People
  Like the mi-go, the serpent people have had a long history 
  of involvement and activity in Great Britain. Working in the 
  shadows or on the fringes of society, many serpent people seek 
  to revive their once great empire, its powerful sorceries, and its 
  arcane sciences. Stories of little people might be derived from 
  these degenerate serpent people digging beneath the earth in 
  search of ruins dating back to their former empire. While they 
  are less likely to manipulate humans than other Mythos species, 
  many snake cults can trace their beginnings to interactions with 
  serpent people who might have introduced them to magic to 
  secure their abject loyalty to the ophidians’ causes.
  Yog-Sothoth
  The patron of sorcerers and mystics, Yog-Sothoth’s cults are 
  primarily interested in acquiring power through the black 
  arts, witchcraft, and eldritch magic, not the natural magic 
  that the druidic cults of Shub-Niggurath practise. Yog-
  Sothoth’s magic is less an art and more a science focusing on 
  leveraging universal, non-Euclidean dynamics and harnessing 
  unthinkable, alien energies. The means of acquiring this magic 
  is more an exchange than a dark pact: to those who are willing 
  to dance to his maddening tune, Yog-Sothoth offers power 
  and the ability to see behind the veil of this reality, to contact 
  alien worlds and witness alternate dimensions and realities—
  abilities that have stood many a wandering mystic and many a 
  royally-feted seer in good stead. 
  Many magicians and sorcerers, servants of Yog-Sothoth, have 
  in the past been instrumental in adding to the security of the 
  realm and acknowledged as amongst the most trusted advisors 
  of royalty. However, such mind-bending knowledge and 
  power come at a heavy cost and Yog-Sothoth is an unforgiving 
  master.
  Old Ones and Old Gods
  
  Folklore 
  Mythos Threats
  
  - Folklore Mythos Threats -
  “Searchers after horror haunt strange, far places.”
  (Howard Phillips Lovecraft, 
  The Picture in the House, 1921)
  G
  reat Britain in the 1920s is home to a variety of Mythos 
  threats lurking behind, or being mistaken for, folkloric 
  creatures, individuals, and events. Folk stories describing 
  these threats are found across the nation in many different 
  guises and versions. These recurrent themes often indicate 
  some greater force at work, something or someone whose 
  influence reaches across the country and insinuates itself in 
  many places, perhaps a greater archetype or a servitor of a 
  stronger power. The following strange tales describe but a few 
  of the Mythos powers and entities that can be found across the 
  British Isles, where folklore and supernatural terror mix with 
  a decidedly British flavour.
  This section provides Keepers with information on the activities 
  and motivations of a number of Mythos threats lurking behind 
  British folklore in the 1920s. For each instance of Mythos 
  activity, information regarding the nature of the threat, 
  opportunities for investigation, possible conclusions and 
  means of involving players are detailed under the subheadings 
  Intrigue, Introduction, Investigation and Revelation. In 
  addition to this, relevant information on locations, characters 
  of note, monsters, spells, and equipment are provided 
  for Keepers’ use. The intention here is to supply enough 
  materials for Keepers to quickly build scenarios of their own 
  or to incorporate these threats into pre-existing campaigns.
   
  - The Beast of Bodmin -
  Intrigue
  Bodmin Moor has a long history of Yithian activity dating 
  back to the Stone Age when the first of the Great Race of 
  Yith arrived to investigate activity in this newly settled area. 
  Over time the Yithians used Bodmin and its surroundings 
  as a site of transference and as a gateway. This activity 
  eventually attracted the attention of the Hounds of Tindalos 
  and the Tindalosians laid waste to several Yithian projects and 
  numerous human attendants. Seeking to avoid further attacks, 
  in the Middle Ages the Yithians managed to entrap and bind a 
  single Hound of Tindalos. Over the centuries, the imprisoned 
  Tindalosian weakened and its imprisonment was entrusted to 
  the Tangye family, who annually refreshed the binds holding 
  their prisoner. The presence of the bound Hound of Tindalos 
  has kept other Tindalosians from meddling in the Yithians’ 
  affairs. 
  Now in the early 20th Century, the fortunes of the Tindalosian 
  ‘Black Dog’ are changing. Long it has been trapped and bound 
  to Bodmin town, prevented from interfering with the burial 
  sites, standing stones and ritual activities on the nearby moors, 
  including the continuing machinations and transferences of 
  the Great Race of Yith. But recently the Tangye family has 
  forgotten its ancestral role as gaolers of the fearsome black 
  dog. Testing its bonds, the black dog has begun to push 
  against the limits placed upon it, ever desiring to find some 
  opportunity, any opportunity, to break its bonds and to roam 
  free once again. The failure of the Tangye family to renew the 
  Tindalosian’s bonds this century has provided the Hound with 
  significant freedom to act in the present day.
  The Hound has finally discerned that its weakened bonds can 
  now be broken by a magic weapon or an appropriate spell, 
  and has embarked on a course of action that will either see its 
  bonds broken or its spirit freed through death. The imprisoned 
  Tindalosian knows that its freedom—in either end—can only 
  be found through conflict, conflict with men or women who 
  possess magic or magical items. To this end the creature has 
  baited a “trap,” allowing itself to be seen by townsfolk and 
  slaughtering anything and everything that it can get away 
  with, despite its magical bonds. It intends to continue this 
  slaughter until men or women intelligent enough to defeat it 
  (or free it) arrive in Bodmin.
  The townsfolk grow more and more alarmed as the beast that 
  seemed content to haunt the road and appear to people about 
  to die has newly taken to slaughtering sheep, cattle and now 
  people. For the townsfolk, the death of Ennor Warrick, the 
  young daughter of Kenver and Rosen Warrick, was the tipping 
  point. Little Ennor Warrick was found with her throat torn 
  out, having gone out on an errand for her parents. Now the 
  village priest has sent word to London and beyond in hopes of 
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  77
  
  78
  Folklore
  receiving aid from anyone who can help discover the beast’s 
  lair and bring an end its reign of terror. 
  Of course, this is precisely what the black dog wants. As the 
  characters arrive, it plans to further manipulate events, and 
  the investigators themselves if possible, to bring about its 
  emancipation or its death.
  Introduction
  Characters can be introduced to the story of the beast through 
  a number of means.  They might, for example, read the story 
  of the murdered girl and the suspected ghostly dog in the daily 
  newspaper. They might already be travelling in the area and 
  hear of the strange events from local farmers or townspeople. 
  Alternatively, they might receive a letter or a visit from a local 
  priest who knows something of their previous efforts and 
  successes, entreating them to help the priest of St. Petroc’s 
  church in Bodmin. They might find themselves desiring to 
  uncover the “real” murderer and debunk the idea of Ennor’s 
  ghostly killer, or they might be familiar with black dog 
  folktales and seek to dispatch this terrible threat before it does 
  more harm.
  Investigation
  Bodmin is a fairly small town, with just over 5,000 inhabitants, 
  but it has a series of facilities that give it a greater importance 
  and prestige than might otherwise be expected for a town of 
  its size. It has a railway station, an important gaol (which was 
  also used during World War I to store British treasures such 
  as the Crown Jewels and the Domesday Book), and the nearby 
  Cornwall County Lunatic Asylum. Bodmin is an important 
  centre for the farming that is done on the surrounding moors.
  Arriving within the town of Bodmin, the investigators will 
  initially receive a warm welcome from the town priest who 
  will tell them as much as he knows about what is going on. He 
  will fill them in on the story of the ghost dog and the animal 
  deaths, and what he knows of the death of the little girl, who 
  is due to be buried in a day or two. The Bodmin townsfolk are 
  understandably up in arms, and more claim to have seen the 
  dog, some even to have fired a shotgun at it to no effect.
  People are generally likely to be tight-lipped, however, 
  suspicious of strangers and very wary of being taken for fools 
  by people from the cities or the upper classes. There will be a 
  broad divide between the local farming and trades people and 
  those who hold more elevated positions—the police, the village 
  priest, and so forth. Those with some power and authority 
  are more willing to aid any investigators, even though they 
  would prefer not to believe in the superstitions. The poor and 
  lower classes are far more willing to accept ghost stories and 
  folktales, but are less likely to help initially.
  Talking to the locals will bear little fruit, though if the 
  investigators seem willing enough to go out with them on one 
  of their hunts for the black dog, they may begin to relax a little 
  and share some of their own folk tales and stories about the 
  beast in their thick Cornish dialect.
  As the investigation wears on, the manifestations of the black 
  dog grow more frequent, deadly, and closer to the visiting 
  investigators. Scared and angry locals might begin to invent 
  some sort of connection between the black dog and the 
  characters. This whole time the imprisoned Tindalosian will 
  ‘play’ with the investigators, wherever possible messing with 
  their minds and trying to provoke them, even attacking them 
  outright. The Hound does this for a purpose: it is showing 
  them how strong and virtually invulnerable it is and trying to 
  make them realise that they will require magic or some special 
  enchanted item to defeat it.
  As this is going on, however, Jan Tangye suddenly comes 
  forward and admits that he is responsible for the animal 
  killings and Ennor’s murder, which he managed through 
  baiting his trained dogs. Tangye appears confused and 
  as a man compelled—even eager—to confess and face the 
  hangman’s noose. Looking for anything tangible to blame, the 
  authorities take him at his word and the townsfolk begin to be 
  slowly convinced, even while the black dog continues to harass 
  and taunt the investigators into a confrontation.
  Persons of Interest
  Reverend Martin Bailey, The Village Priest
  Reverend Martin Bailey is the local priest, tending to the 
  flock of the church of St. Petroc in the centre of Bodmin. He 
  employs the dead girl’s mother as a maid at his house and 
  lives something of a solitary existence, a semi-retirement from 
  his previous work as a vicar in the city. A lonely old soul, he 
  genuinely cares about the people in his charge, is especially 
  troubled by young Ennor’s death. Bailey is almost entirely 
  ignorant of the local folklore and does not believe in the black 
  dog or any such superstition, although he does truly believe 
  in the evil in men’s hearts. He is an archetypal, apologetic 
  Anglican minister, and does not even seem particularly 
  comfortable in bringing up God, at least not directly.
  
  79
  The Warricks
  Kenver and Rosen Warrick are a shepherd and the local 
  priest’s maid, respectively. They are distraught at the loss 
  of their youngest daughter Ennor, but have several other 
  children to take care of and cannot let themselves become too 
  disconsolate. Neither of them saw the deed done, but both are 
  willing to accept the idea that the Beast of Bodmin took her, 
  especially since Kenver has seen its work first-hand upon his 
  sheep. Less reluctant than the other townsfolk to help, Kenver 
  is happy to take the investigators to see some of the damage 
  the black dog has done to the flocks. Rosen claims she saw the 
  creature once when she was a child, and that it looked at her, 
  but she said a prayer and it disappeared “into the mist” and 
  she never saw it again.
  Jan Tangye
  Age 26, Master of the Hounds
  STR 13 
  DEX 12 
  INT 10 
  CON 13
  SIZ 14 
  APP 10 
  POW 06 
  EDU 09
  SAN 25 
   
  Hit Points: 14
  Damage Bonus: +1D4
  Skills: Climb 50%, Conceal 25%, Cthulhu Mythos 5%, 
  Dodge 34%, Dog Training 85%, Fast Talk 20%, First 
  Aid 50%, Hide 20%, Jump 35%, Listen 35%, Natural 
  History 40%, Persuade 25%, Ride 55%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch  60%, damage 1D3+db
  Knife 35%, damage 1D4+2+db 
  Grapple 35%, roll STR vs. STR on Resistance Table or 
  be immobilized
  Appearance: Haggard and unshaven, Tangye looks a 
  mess. His dishevelled black hair is greasy and his face 
  is covered in a sheen of dirt and sweat. His eyes are 
  glassy and he looks slightly confused; in fact, he looks 
  as though he hasn’t slept properly in weeks. His drab 
  clothing is covered in dust and dirt, and his boots are 
  caked in mud.
  Jan Tangye
  Tangye is the last living descendant of the ancient Stone 
  Age shamans and magicians who were charged with 
  maintaining the imprisonment of the weakened Hound of 
  Tindalos under the instruction of the Great Race of Yith. 
  The elaborate binding tradition—or certainly part of it—has 
  been passed down through the generations, though the exact 
  understanding of the spells has been lost over time. He does 
  know why the black dog exists and has an inkling what it 
  might be up to. By taking the blame and going to the rope, 
  he hopes that it will break the spell holding the beast here. 
  If the beast is free to leave, then surely it will depart and 
  trouble the village no more. Tangye does not, and cannot, 
  fully appreciate the vengeance that the Tindalosian intends 
  to wreak upon his extended family and those in the nearby 
  counties that carry the family name.
  The Yithian
  The area around Bodmin is full of tombs, earthworks, and 
  other sacred spaces. The Great Race of Yith has pursued some 
  mysterious purpose here for hundreds of thousands of years, 
  and does not wish to be disturbed by meddlesome Hounds of 
  Tindalos. If the investigators come close to freeing the Hound 
  (or if Tangye is condemned to death), a Yithian agent transfers 
  its mind into a suitable host (such as the village priest, or 
  a madman from the asylum, or even a player character) 
  and works to keep the Hound bound. It might guide the 
  investigators to the Tangye barrow, or sabotage their attempts 
  to find a magical weapon to defeat the hound.
  Places of Interest
  Chapel of St Thomas Becket
  The Chapel of St. Thomas Becket is nothing more than a ruin 
  now, overgrown with moss and ivy, though the crypt remains 
  intact beneath. The chapel was built in the 14th century largely 
  from stone taken from the moor. In the crypt, parts of the wall 
  were cut from ancient menhirs. These old standing stones 
  were broken up, but here and there swirling patterns of whorls 
  and depictions of triangular shapes, fringed with tentacles, 
  talking to figures of men, can barely be made out. 
  If pulled out of the wall and sharpened, one of these sections 
  of ancient menhir might serve as a suitable enchanted weapon 
  to cut through the black dog’s bonds. The Hound is aware 
  of the magic here and will appear in the ruins frequently 
  or leave a dead corpse here to attract the attention of the 
  investigators.
  Bodmin Gaol
  The gaol is run-down and likely soon to close. Prisoners are 
  usually now taken to the larger prison in Exeter as Bodmin 
  has space for only fifty at a time. The last execution to take 
  place here was in 1909, though the gallows still remain and are 
  likely to seal the fate of Jan Tangye at the hands of the mob if 
  he has his way. The police and guards here regard this as an 
  easy assignment and do not want to stir the pot too much.
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  80
  Folklore
  Barrows and Circles
  There are many stone circles and barrows (ancient burial places 
  which, to the untrained eye, look like small hills) dotted over the 
  moor. The Tangye family still pays special reverence to a barely 
  noticeable barrow dating back far into the history of the family. 
  The burial chamber, hidden beneath the turf and through 
  a small access tunnel, is octagonal and seemingly empty, the 
  graves being beneath the floor. Carvings in the 
  walls, written in Ogham script, detail the spells 
  necessary to summon, bind, and command the 
  Hounds of Tindalos. They also convey some 
  meaning relating to “meetings” between the 
  Tangye family and the Great Race of Yith and 
  the binding contract. Jan Tangye knows of this 
  place as do numerous other townsfolk, but only 
  Tangye knows the significance of the Ogham 
  script.
  Cornwall County Asylum
  The Cornwall County Asylum is found close 
  to Bodmin, and houses amongst its number 
  several offshoots of the Tangye family with less 
  resilient minds than Jan. The insane here have 
  minds adrift in time, slightly out of phase, and 
  are more aware of the Black Dog than most.
  Revelation
  The Beast of Bodmin wishes to be freed and will manipulate the 
  investigators, if possible, to attack it with magic or a magical 
  weapon—perhaps found in a barrow or using a fragment of 
  The Beast of Bodmin, Bound and 
  Weakened Hound of Tindalos
  Char.
  Roll
  Avg.
  STR
  --
  12
  CON
  --
  20
  SIZ
  --
  15
  INT
  --
  22
  POW
  --
  27
  DEX
  --
  8
  HP
  21–22
  Move: 8
  Damage Bonus: +1D4
  Skills: Dodge 50%, and more as the Keeper wishes
  Weapons: Claw 80%, damage 1D6+db
  Bite 80%, damage 1D4 plus 1 point of POW drained 
  permanently
  Armour: 2-point hide and regenerates 1 hit point per 
  round; mundane weapons do a maximum of 1 point of 
  damage per strike, though enchanted weapons and spells 
  do full damage
  Spells: The Beast knows at least 1D4 spells, as the Keeper 
  finds appropriate; however, they cannot cast them while 
  bound 
  Number appearing: 1
  Sanity Loss: 1D3 / 1D10 Sanity points to see the Beast
  Appearance: The Beast of Bodmin appears as a large, 
  phantasmal hound, horrifying in aspect and shrouded in 
  roiling mist and shadow. Its body is unnaturally thin and 
  gaunt, an alien skeleton showing beneath tight skin, and 
  light seems to curve around its body in a peculiar and 
  disturbing way.
   
  Special Abilities: Time Travel – The Beast can leap up 
  to 6 hours into the past time once per day and may choose 
  either to relive the past or return to the present. Time travel 
  into the future is more severely restricted by the magic that 
  binds it and so the Beast may only leap up to 60 seconds 
  into the future once per day. This is an innate ability and 
  does not require magic points.
  
  81
  enchanted stone from the Chapel. The Beast will attempt to 
  dodge so that any blows cut its bonds. If freed, it will vanish 
  into time to take its revenge, altering history, eliminating the 
  Tangye family, and destroying the barrow so that the binding 
  spell might never be used again.
  If it fails to escape, death also fulfils its desire to be free of 
  this bondage, though destroying it might attract the attention 
  of other Hounds of Tindalos who will then begin to hunt the 
  investigators across time and space. Destroying or freeing 
  the Beast also means that other Hounds can trespass into the 
  Yithians’ area of interest, causing a temporal conflict around 
  Bodmin that is (and was, and will be) far worse than the 
  predations of the Beast.
  Both of these results can be considered failures for the 
  investigators, though they will have solved the mystery and 
  the black dog will be gone. A reward of 1D3 SAN should be 
  given for “defeating” the hound. Should they ever come to 
  understand the significance of the Hounds and the Yithians, 
  and hear of stranger events consuming the village, they should 
  suffer a loss of 1 / 1D8 Sanity. Letting Tangye go to his death 
  costs 1D3 Sanity. 
  The best course of action is for the characters to keep Tangye 
  out of prison, then find the family barrow and translate the 
  inscriptions there to learn the Bonds of the Black Dog spell (as 
  outlined previously in the Black Dogs section of the Folklore 
  Bestiary). They can then have Tangye recast the binding spell, 
  bringing the rampaging Hound to heel and stopping further 
  killings. An agent of the Great Race of Yith can intercede if the 
  players need help, but the goals of the Yithian are not necessarily 
  in accord with those of the investigators—the Yithian cares 
  nothing for the suffering of the villagers of Bodmin, it just wants 
  its million-year experiments to go undisturbed by meddling 
  Tindalosians. Successfully rebinding the Hound in this way 
  should be rewarded with 1D8 point of Sanity.
  - Head Over Heels -
  Intrigue
  The Blake family have been down on their luck for some time, 
  and their fortunes have continued to worsen at an increasing 
  rate into the 20th century. The head of the family, Lord 
  David Blake, recently died and left little or nothing to his 
  inheritors save debts and a crumbling manor that can barely 
  be maintained on what income and holdings the family have 
  left. Dissolute hedonists with little or no regard for history 
  or family honour, his inheritors, the new Lord Simon Blake 
  and his sister Dorothea Blake, have been selling off the family 
  treasures one by one to fund their lifestyle of high-stakes 
  gambling and opium- and alcohol-fuelled parties.
  Recently, Simon and Dorothea were offered an obscene sum 
  for a particularly grisly relic of the family: the ancient, polished 
  skull of Lord Talbot Blake. In the 17th Century, it was Talbot’s 
  seemingly untimely death that marked the beginning of the 
  downturn in the Blake fortunes. It was said that if the skull 
  were removed from the house it would supposedly scream and 
  bring grave misfortune to those responsible for its removal. 
  Both Simon and Dorothea knew the childhood tale, no doubt 
  told to keep young hands from playing with the macabre 
  heirloom. Being children of the 20th Century, however, 
  neither the new Lord nor his sister paid such superstitious 
  nonsense any heed. The sum offered by the strange foreign 
  collector made them both more than willing to part with the 
  grotesque family curiosity.  In truth, they couldn’t believe 
  their good luck.
  Then everything turned sour. Since the skull was removed 
  from the Blake manor, rather than profiting from the deal, the 
  Blakes have watched their fortunes tumble and diminish. Their 
  gambling losses, always a problem, have now become a serious 
  issue as their luck at the tables seems to have abandoned them 
  completely. Their business dealings, largely built on high-risk 
  ventures, are all coming in poorly, as are their trade dealings; 
  and various other incidents of “bad luck” now plague them. 
  A number of their pets have died mysteriously, servants have 
  suffered mental breakdowns, and the old manor seems to be 
  suddenly collapsing around them in an accelerated manner. 
  Impossible as it seems, they have come to realise that there 
  might have been some truth to the childhood story about Lord 
  Talbot’s skull.
  In truth, Lord Talbot Blake made a pact with Nyarlathotep in 
  the late 1600s to secure his immortality. Talbot was essentially 
  tricked into becoming a screaming skull (see the Bodily 
  Horrors section in the Folklore Bestiary above). Since that 
  time, the skull has been removed several times from the house, 
  damning Talbot’s soul to Azathoth’s court and reducing him 
  to abject madness. Outside of its resting place, the screaming 
  skull now screams eternally. Nyarlathotep continues to toy 
  with the family line, subtly dragging his descendants into 
  degeneracy to further torment what remains of Talbot Blake’s 
  consciousness.
  With what little money they have left, they have determined 
  that they must somehow recover the skull, but they have 
  encountered a wall of resistance from the strange collector who 
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  82
  Folklore
  is unwilling to part with it for any amount, considering it to be 
  the prized piece in his collection. Lord Simon and Dorothea 
  are now frantic. Given the supernatural nature of the item and 
  the need for secrecy to maintain their ‘good’ names, both are 
  willing to do virtually anything, even if it must skirt the edges 
  of legality, to retrieve the troublesome heirloom.
  Trading in Death 
  It might seem odd that the Blakes did not smell a rat 
  immediately when a man offered to pay an obscene 
  amount for an old skull, but the trade in such relics 
  has a long history in Britain. There is evidence that 
  prehistoric tribes on the islands traded the bones of 
  their ancestors with each other. During the Middle Ages 
  monasteries would pay to house bones of the saints, 
  which drew pilgrims from near and far who would pay 
  handsomely to touch the reliquary in which the bones 
  were kept. Likewise in the Victorian era, anthropologist-
  antiquarians, such as the famous Augustus Pitt Rivers, 
  sought artefacts of the dead for their collections, while 
  at the same time several members of the upper-middle 
  classes bought mummies (some genuine, some fake) 
  during the craze for Egyptology. Among the right sort of 
  people, bones have always been big business in Britain.
  Introduction
  The Blakes are looking for the “right” sort of people with a 
  certain amount of moral flexibility and some experience 
  in working in strange circumstances. They can cast a wide 
  net through their social contacts to find the right sort who 
  will help them out. In this case, characters with a criminal 
  background would be right at home. Otherwise, they are 
  looking for anyone who is willing to look the other way when 
  the job requires activity that blurs the boundary between 
  right and wrong.  Initially they will not talk about the 
  supernatural consequences or the childhood story, simply 
  trying to present it as the loss of a family heirloom with a 
  certain reputation, which must be retrieved at any cost from 
  the foreign collector.
  In fact, the Blakes will begin by concocting a story about their 
  dealings and initially claim that the collector, Mr Asaph of 
  London, was refused in his representations to buy the skull on 
  several occasions. They will then report that the skull “went 
  missing” and that they have come to believe that Mr Asaph 
  himself, or men hired by him, stole the curious heirloom. 
  Either way, they believe Mr Asaph now holds their precious 
  family treasure and will entreat the investigators to retrieve it, 
  requesting that they make every effort to do so secretly.
  If in the course of their investigations the characters discover 
  the Blakes’ lie, they will desperately offer to double their fee in 
  order to recover the skull by any means necessary. If pressed, 
  they will reveal the truth of the situation and their involvement, 
  relating the extraordinary extent of their bad luck and the 
  problems that have befallen them since the skull disappeared. 
  They will go to virtually any length to secure the skull from 
  Mr Asaph and discussions may take a decidedly dark turn, 
  suggesting that the foreign collector may need to be ‘dealt with’.
  Investigation
  Investigation of Blake House reveals the ruined and desperate 
  state of the building. The skull was kept in the relatively intact 
  western wing of the manor under lock and key, within a glass 
  case on a silken cushion. There is no sign of a break-in or of 
  force of any kind as it was not stolen, but the investigators 
  will likely not know that. The library, on the other hand, 
  might reveal Lord Talbot Blake’s interest in the occult, though 
  nothing in the library directly ties in the Cthulhu Mythos. 
  Amongst the occult books of his collection—now suffering 
  greatly from damp and neglect—are plans for a folly he had 
  built, a small, pentagon-shaped building set in the woods at the 
  edge of the Blakes’ land, the design of which does incorporate 
  certain aspects of non-Euclidean geometry.
  In the folly, hidden away behind secret stone panels (requiring 
  a successful Spot Hidden roll to find), are Lord Talbot Blake’s 
  genuine library and artefacts. Again most of Talbot’s collection 
  is occult nonsense, but amongst the writings is his codex. This 
  codex contains lore revealed to him through his worship and 
  service to Nyarlathotep. It is written in a simple substitution 
  cipher, but can be decoded and made comprehensible with a 
  few days’ dedicated study.
  Mr Asaph is well known in London as a collector of curiosities, 
  and any investigation of auction houses, occult dealerships, 
  or other sources of interesting paraphernalia will turn up the 
  contact information for him. He is perfectly willing to meet 
  with the investigators and to discuss how he came to be in 
  possession of the Blake family skull. 
  Mr Asaph will reveal that it was an above board business 
  dealing, and will be even able to produce receipts to support 
  his assertion. He is absolutely adamant, however, that he 
  will not sell the skull, not for any price. No screaming can be 
  
  83
  heard at his house though it is clear from the other artefacts 
  and items in his front room that he maintains his collection 
  here. Mr Asaph is a “foreign” gentleman, though he is never 
  specific on the details of his past and is attended by his mute, 
  fez-wearing servant, Ahrmen, apparently a Turk.
  The skull of Lord Talbot is being stored in Mr Asaph’s cellar 
  beneath Durstan House along with several other Mythos 
  artefacts and items, though few, if any, have any real power and 
  all relate to Nyarlathotep, more in the character of mementos 
  than real artefacts. The skull is stored in a soundproof box, as 
  it screams constantly in a blood-curdling manner.
  Mr Asaph is absolutely unwilling to produce the skull and will 
  call the police should the investigators become too difficult. 
  Under no circumstances will he let them see the rest of his 
  house or the cellar where he has stored the screaming skull. 
  In fact, Mr Asaph’s house is little more than a front room 
  with a decrepit and rotting hulk behind it. The only room safe 
  to inhabit is the storeroom that is filled with minor Mythos 
  artefacts and the sealed box containing the screaming skull. 
  Asaph’s servant, Ahrmen, is virtually always present here and 
  is willing to die to protect Mr Asaph’s collection.
  LORD TALBOT BLAkE’S CODEx 
  Lord BLake’S Codex – in English by Lord Talbot 
  Blake, c. 1675. Blake’s codex is a large book made of 
  fine vellum and bound in crocodile skin, a physical 
  make-up far more regal than its contents—Blake’s 
  crabbed scratchings and doodles—would warrant. 
  The book is written in early modern English and 
  uses a simple substitution cypher that must be 
  decoded prior to reading. The book contains a 
  record of his activities and various disturbing 
  deeds in the name of great Nyarlathotep, and the 
  spells ultimately revealed to him through constant 
  worship to the Outer God. Sanity Loss: 1D4 / 2D4; 
  Cthulhu Mythos increase +5; average 16 weeks to 
  comprehend fully. Spells: Augur, Binding Bones, 
  Chant of Thoth, Contact Nyarlathotep, Evil Eye, 
  Summon/Bind Hunting Horror, and Warding.
  Persons of Interest
  Lord Simon Blake
  Age 29, Dissolute Aristocrat
  STR 11 
  DEX 12 
  INT 15 
  CON 07
  SIZ 13 
  APP 16 
  POW 12 
  EDU 15
  SAN 50 
   
  Hit Points: 10
  Damage Bonus: None
  Skills: Accounting 20%, Art 55%, Bargain 55%, 
  Conceal 35%, Credit Rating 45%, Drive Automobile 
  60%, Fast Talk 65%, French 51%, History 30%, 
  Persuade 65%, Ride 35%, Shotgun 60%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 60%, damage 1D3+db
  Appearance: Lord Blake is a slender man of 29 
  years with hungry eyes above a slightly feminine 
  mouth. His slicked back hair is extremely dark, though 
  his complexion is pale and almost waxy. He has a 
  twitchy, nervous disposition during the period of the 
  investigation, and both drinks and smokes heavily as 
  a way of coping. He is very well dressed, and flashes 
  his wealth ostentatiously, perhaps compensating for 
  the fact that his real fortune is draining away at an 
  alarming rate.
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  84
  Folklore
  Mr Asaph
  Asaph is in truth a possessed puppet of Nyarlathotep, 
  performing his will.  He is barely a man at all, but an empty 
  husk tasked with collecting and storing mementos desired 
  by the dark Outer God for purposes unknown. As servants of 
  Nyarlathotep, neither he nor his servant Ahrmen is subject to 
  the curse of Talbot’s screaming skull.
  Dorothea Blake
  Age 26, Dilettante
  STR 8 
  DEX 14 
  INT 15 
  CON 9
  SIZ 6 
  APP 11 
  POW 16 
  EDU 16
  SAN 35 
   
  Hit Points: 7
  Damage Bonus: None
  Skills: Accounting 30%, Archaeology 11%, Art 45%, 
  Bargain 45%, Chemistry 31%, Conceal 45%, Credit Rating 
  55%, Drive Automobile 50%, Fast Talk 45%, Hide 20%, 
  History 30%, Persuade 35%, Photography 75%, Ride 45%, 
  Sneak 20%, Swim 45%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 30%, damage 1D3+db
  Appearance: Lord Blake’s sister, Dorothea Blake, is 
  a photographer of some skill. Just as dissolute as her 
  brother, she has a little more steel than he does and a lot 
  more paranoia. She wishes to avoid scandal, so she works 
  very hard at being discreet. Still, like her brother, she has 
  her vices. Dorothea is extremely petite, barely five feet tall, 
  with dark hair like her brother and even paler features. 
  Despite her snappy demeanour, she finds it very hard to 
  meet anyone’s eyes, and almost always looks away or casts 
  her eyes down.
  Mr Asaph
  Age unknown, Puppet of Nyarlathotep
  STR 10 
  DEX 19 
  INT 86 
  CON 18
  SIZ 11 
  APP 12 
  POW 100 
  EDU –
  SAN – 
   
  Hit Points: 15
  Damage Bonus: None
  Skills: As the Keeper desires
  Weapons: Any weapon 100%, damage as per weapon
  Armour: None; however, if killed Mr Asaph’s flesh splits 
  open and vomits forth a mass of tentacular light (causing the 
  loss of 1D8 / 2D8 SAN) which vanishes into the sky
  Appearance: Mr Asaph, who never gives his first name, 
  is a tall and elegant man with a golden, tanned complexion 
  and dark, close-cropped curly hair, turning to red in the 
  highlights. He speaks with impeccable English and yet 
  with a strange, lilting tone. He never reveals where he is 
  from, simply referring to himself as being foreign, though 
  he does have a faint Middle Eastern or North African air 
  about him. He is polite to a fault, but nonetheless carries 
  himself without fear and with a distinctly arrogant air. 
  Asaph is an aspect of Nyarlathotep, a possessed body that 
  may or may not have ever really been a person in his own 
  right.
  Ahrmen
  Age unknown, Mr Asaph’s Slave
  STR 22 
  DEX 07 
  INT – 
  CON 16
  SIZ 14 
  APP 06 
  POW 01 
  EDU –
  SAN – 
   
  Hit Points: 15
  Move: 7
  Damage Bonus: +1D6
  Skills: Spot Hidden 45%, and others as the Keeper desires
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 70%, damage 1D3+db
  Grapple 65%, roll STR vs. STR on Resistance Table or be 
  immobilised
  Armour: 2-point hardened skin and muscle; impaling 
  weapons are useless unless severing a limb/head, etc.
  Sanity Loss: 1/1D8, if it becomes apparent that he is 
  undead
  Appearance: Ahrmen was once the head of a cult devoted 
  to Nyarlathotep in Turkey that preached the glory of 
  eternal servitude to the dark god. Ahrmen was chosen and 
  taken up, twisted into an undead mockery of his living self 
  and given over as a servant to Asaph, the slave to a puppet 
  of the messenger god of the Mythos. Ahrmen is now little 
  more than a zombie. He appears to be a Turkish gentleman 
  in his fifties, never speaking, and smelling strongly of sweet 
  coffee, used to hide the smell of his dead flesh.
  
  85
  Places of Interest
  Blake Manor
  Blake Manor is a sprawling country manor house in the English 
  countryside. It has a large garden, laid out in a fine pattern, but 
  now overgrown and barely maintained. A good half of the house 
  is in a state of disrepair, surrounded by a rusting scaffold, which 
  looks as though it has been there some time. Only one wing of 
  the house remains relatively intact and liveable, though even 
  this looks as though nobody spends much, if any, time there. 
  It contrasts with the current Blakes by being old, musty, and 
  unkempt while they are neat, modern, and young.
  Durstan House
  From the outside, Durstan House is a detached, well-kept 
  building on the outskirts of London. High hedges on all sides 
  surround it, and the garden is unkempt and dark, but the 
  house itself appears to be in a state of good repair. Inside, 
  the front hall and reception room are similarly well-kept, and 
  beautifully appointed with various items and antiques, many 
  of which have a dubious occult history, but none of which 
  relate to the Mythos. Behind this façade the rest of the house is 
  rotting away on the inside, infested with insects and rodents. 
  The cellar is a mausoleum of Mythos artefacts and items, 
  mementos of Nyarlathotep’s depredations upon humanity, 
  including the screaming skull, secured within a soundproof 
  box. While Mr Asaph occasionally leaves the house on his own, 
  often at night, Ahrmen usually stands guard and is alerted by 
  magical warding stones should anyone breach the cellar.
  The Screaming Skull
  Lord Talbot Blake, Undead, Tormented Soul
  STR – 
  DEX – 
  INT 13 
  CON –
  SIZ – 
  APP – 
  POW 15 
  EDU 17
  SAN – 
   
  Hit Points: 03
  Skills: Art 55%, Astronomy 66%, Cthulhu Mythos 
  55%, History 70%, Law 65%, Occult 75%, Spot Hidden 
  25%, and others as the Keeper desires
  Weapons: None
  Armour: None
  Spells: Augur, Binding Bones, Evil Eye, and others as 
  the Keeper desires
  Sanity Loss: 0 / 1D3 points for witnessing a 
  supernatural manifestation associated with a screaming 
  skull (e.g. hurling or blood sweat)
  Special Abilities: see Screaming Skull Special 
  Abilities on page 44
  Revelation
  Recovery of the skull will put Talbot Blake to relative rest once 
  again, and will restore some of the Blakes’ fading fortunes. 
  Investigators achieving this are rewarded 1D4 points of 
  Sanity. Though they will not be able to pay whatever they owe 
  to the investigators, the Blakes may still be useful contacts and 
  future patrons, due to the deference still given to the upper 
  classes. With the skull returned, the Blakes will continue 
  their debauched lives, in part inspired by the machinations of 
  Nyarlathotep upon the family line. Investigators may realise 
  that returning the skull to the family again would, to some 
  small degree, thwart Nyarlathotep, and might draw that god’s 
  attention to the investigators. Any investigator comprehending 
  this will potentially lose 1 / 1D6 points of Sanity.
  Recovering the skull will annoy the Outer God, particularly 
  if violence against his avatar or his servant was used to gain 
  access to the skull. Nyarlathotep may consider exacting some 
  kind of revenge and pursue the investigators, or he might 
  simply be amused by this latest turn of events and focus on 
  matters elsewhere. The choice is left to the Keeper.
  - The Writhing Hill -
  Intrigue
  The chalk downs and hills of Hampshire are the remnants of 
  an ancient seabed dating back sixty million years. The chalk 
  is made up of the tiny, powdered skeletons of millions upon 
  millions of sea creatures from that ancient time, fallen and 
  compacted into the sea floor before being thrust up by the 
  shifting crust and the fall in sea levels to form the farmland 
  of today. The evidence of this ancient seabed can be found 
  by anyone walking the chalky land. Not only do the ancient 
  skeletons in the chalk reveal themselves under the microscope, 
  but also any number of fossils can be found simply through 
  casual examination of the fields after ploughing. 
  These fossils include ammonites, ancient sea creatures with 
  ornate, swirling shells much like those of the modern nautilus, 
  which were long believed to be snakes turned to stone by 
  medieval saints or Stone Age shamans. The remains of sea 
  urchins fossilized into round pitted shapes are also commonly 
  found and are known locally as “fairy loaves”, “shepherd’s 
  crowns”, and any number of other peculiar names. Fossils 
  older and stranger still speak of different kinds of life that 
  once inhabited the seas and oceans, things best not examined 
  too closely or considered too deeply. 
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  86
  Folklore
  Many fanciful myths and legends surround the fossils found 
  in these areas. The period in which these fossils were formed 
  corresponds roughly to the time when the flying polyps rose 
  from their subterranean prisons and battled both the Great 
  Race of Yith and the elder things for control of the planet. 
  These battles contributed to the fall of the elder things and 
  the final departure of the Yithians, before the flying polyps 
  returned to their underground homes, apparently content to 
  remain there and live their blasphemous and peculiar lives, 
  waiting out eternity.
  True enough, many of these peculiar fossil finds are of the 
  strange remains of the Yithians, flying polyps, and elder things, 
  and what remains of their organic technologies. Fortunately 
  for the people of these rural farming communities, most 
  of these alien technologies are now harmless, having been 
  worn down and crushed until useless. Intact devices have 
  similarly spent their power supplies and lain completely inert 
  for millions of years, or are so complex and so attuned to the 
  strange anatomy and nature of their creators that no human 
  could ever hope to work out what they are, let alone how to use 
  them. Occasionally though, through sheer bad luck a farmer or 
  walker will stumble upon something beyond mortal ken, and 
  suffer the consequences.
  On the other hand, many of these ancient artefacts, including 
  graven elder signs on fist-sized rounded stones, are efficacious 
  against the creatures and entities of the Mythos and, though 
  rare, are more commonly found here than many other places 
  in the world, making the chalk lands of the south of England a 
  potential arsenal for cultists and investigators who come into 
  regular contact with unnatural powers. Indeed, this corner 
  of Great Britain has a long history of Mythos activity and of 
  its people carving out their existence in opposition to, or in 
  alliance with, alien intelligences.
  For example, long ago the Iron Age peoples of the Tilbury 
  region, under the guidance of their soothsayers and 
  magicians, managed to capture a young chthonian within 
  their waterlogged earthworks. Intent on using the Mythos 
  creature as a sacrifice, the people carefully controlled and 
  manipulated the huge creature, alternating feedings with 
  threats of drowning it. 
  Over time, the chthonian grew into its adult shape and the 
  people quickly fashioned a temple and series of earthworks 
  around its spiralling shape, continuing to keep it subdued. 
  With their temple and towers finally in place, the stars were 
  deemed right and the newly adult chthonian was sacrificed to 
  their pagan gods. Its chamber beneath the great mound that 
  had been built was flooded.
  Having reached maturity, however, the chthonian left behind 
  many eggs, which the tribe gathered and secured within oil-
  filled clay pots to prevent the eggs from hatching. Each of 
  these pots was buried beneath the hill to mark the place of 
  sacrifice and over time, like the tribe, they were forgotten. The 
  pagan tribe and its legacy died out, and new settlers with new 
  traditions occupied the land. The old ways were forgotten, and 
  the crumbling earthworks and half-remembered tales were all 
  that remained. 
  
  87
  In the centuries before the twentieth, digs were occasionally 
  conducted at the site of the ancient sacrifice, but most had 
  been half-hearted and amateurish. Now in the 1920s, Giles 
  Carnby and his archaeological team have returned to do it right. 
  Excited and encouraged by early coin finds, Carnby is hopeful 
  that a greater bounty might be found beneath the hill, and has 
  received additional funding for a continued dig into the centre 
  of the hill. He is confident enough of his successes that he has 
  also dug deep into his own pockets to further fund the venture.
  The surge of interest caused by Carnby and his various 
  appearances and assurances in the news has caused the 
  archaeological team to proceed apace and without their 
  usual care. Unwittingly, they have cracked open one of the 
  old earthenware pots in the process and released the trapped 
  chthonian egg within. Unbeknownst to anyone, the egg 
  hatched some weeks ago and the immature chthonian has 
  been growing ever since, trapped within the great bowl at the 
  heart of the mound and surrounded by sodden clay.
  Over the course of the new dig, the chthonian has matured 
  and it has developed its telepathic powers, trying to contact 
  other chthonians. Although it has not managed to contact any 
  of its alien elders, reaching its juvenile mind outward, it has 
  managed to exert psychic control over Honest John, a simple-
  minded young man employed by Carnby. The young chthonian 
  is now using Honest John to further its plans, waiting for the 
  right moment for its escape. Most recently, the chthonian has 
  managed to manipulate John into procuring and feeding it 
  a number of murdered victims—labourers and diggers now 
  missing from the archaeological site.
  Within the hill, the immature creature is kept trapped by the 
  sodden, waterlogged earth around it, which would sear its flesh 
  if contacted and which hinders its telepathic distress calls. The 
  alien worm now seeks a way to leave the mound and vacate 
  the vicinity. It has determined that manipulating Honest 
  John and / or waiting for the humans’ pumping machines to 
  clear out enough water might allow it to finally escape and to 
  be able to call for aid from massive, adult chthonians deep 
  beneath the earth.
  Introduction
  Tilbury Hill is an old Iron Age mound in Shropshire on the 
  border between Wales and England. The hill’s earthworks have 
  long been a quiet anomaly, as they form neither a bank nor a 
  ditch, but rather spiral inwards to the central mound. Amateur 
  archaeologists digging at the mound have not found a great 
  deal in the past, but a new team of archaeologists working on 
  the site is taking a more professional and methodical approach 
  to the dig. 
  Giles Carnby, head of the current archaeological team 
  engaged in studying the site, has a passing familiarity with 
  the investigators through their work and their reputation for 
  occult and esoteric knowledge. Having found some peculiar 
  artefacts, he seeks their assistance in identifying them and 
  the pagan gods to which they refer. Not that he will pay much 
  attention to warnings or threats of an occult nature: he merely 
  wants to tap into their expertise to help his investigations, for 
  which he will pay them a consultancy fee and acknowledge 
  them in any papers that he submits. In exchange for their 
  help, he is willing to pay two pounds a day plus their room and 
  board in Tilbury’s central inn, The George.
  Investigation
  The investigation on Tilbury Hill is very much time-dependent, 
  as matters will evolve from one day to the next towards their 
  horrible conclusion. The village contains many hints of its 
  bloodier past, such as the inn named for St. George, although 
  the village has little sense of its history and very few records. 
  It was thought to be a pagan holdout up until the Romans 
  abandoned Britain, and so was part of the British Iron Age 
  until its end. 
  There are very few clues in or around the village about the 
  mound or the people who lived there, so investigating the 
  village will yield little but superstitious tales. The most 
  popular story suggests that Tilbury Hill was actually created 
  by a dragon and that the body of the dragon still lies beneath 
  the hill. Most residents don’t pay the old folktale any mind, but 
  regardless there are those who most definitely do not approve 
  of the mound being “poked at.”
  The village church is one place where investigation might 
  lead to some interesting possibilities, particularly as its walls 
  are partially built from old standing stones from the hill. 
  However, learning anything from the ancient stones requires 
  the investigators to interpret them correctly. It is more likely 
  that their main clues are going to come from the site at Tilbury 
  Hill itself.
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  88
  Folklore
  Day Zero
  Peculiar coins and large, round-bodied clay jugs have already been found when the investigators arrive. Faded artwork 
  on the jugs clearly shows dragon-like creatures and other strange shapes. Digging continues while they examine these 
  relics and investigate around the village and the site.
  Day One
  More coins are found along with animal bones and torcs. Amongst the other debris dug out of the excavation pit are 
  several large clay jugs, capped with thick, cracked wax and apparently filled with oil. One of the jugs has broken in 
  half; the clay is more than two inches thick and the interior is stained darkly from the oil. What oil is left in the broken 
  jug is dark, thick, and unpleasant. Also on day one, some of the tools being used in the dig are sabotaged or stolen and 
  hidden at the bottom of Honest John’s garden in a shallow pit. The pumps and lights, however, are not sabotaged and 
  remain operational.
  Day Two
  A graven stone and some human bones are found within the mound, as well as the rim of an enormous volcanic glass 
  “bowl” (see Day Three below). The graven stone has spiralling, interlocking patterns circling a central pictogram, 
  which is difficult to make out but can eventually be deciphered. The pictogram refers to a lesser Celtic deity known as 
  Crom Cruach, whose name can be interpreted as “the Crooked One of the Mound.”
  Beneath the graven stone are found many human bones, most of them crushed beyond recognition, but those that are 
  intact have been bored into by some means and are hollowed out, stripped, and brittle. The edge of the volcanic glass 
  rim encircles much of the dig site and appears to have been vitrified, or melted smooth, by some tremendous heat or 
  acid. It is impossible to tell how deep the bowl goes and the clay within it is exceptionally sodden and heavy. Without 
  drying out, the clay will take many days of hard labour to remove.
  Additionally, overnight two well-liked diggers—John Metcalfe and Duncan Whitchurch—go missing, but Honest 
  John explains they told him they no longer wanted to take part in the dig. While many labourers come and go from 
  the site regularly, particularly if they find better work elsewhere, the disappearance of Metcalfe and Whitchurch is 
  particularly odd considering comments they made recently about being paid extravagantly for the type of work being 
  done. Metcalfe and Whitchurch also appear to have left their packs and belongings behind.
  Day Three
  The day begins with a puzzling and fantastic find dredged up from oily clay within the vitrified bowl: a seemingly 
  perfectly preserved human skeleton, still white and still relatively robust. The skeleton seems a little too modern and 
  clean to be Iron Age remains, not to mention too tall. Of course, the obvious reason for this is that the skeleton actually 
  belongs to Duncan Whitchurch, who was devoured by the young chthonian now lurking just beneath the surface of 
  the clay. Found near the cleaned skeleton is another thick clay jug; however, this one bears a wide crack and glutinous 
  oil is dripping from it. Within the oil and still partially submerged is a large, smooth-surfaced geode—a chthonian 
  egg. A successful Cthulhu Mythos roll can identify this chthonian egg as being intact and viable. Scattered throughout 
  the clay are several gold, silver, and bronze torcs, typical offerings to British gods, all bearing imagery of dragons or 
  draconic creatures carved in waving patterns that some investigators might discern as being oddly tentacular.
  Day Four
  All hell breaks loose as the Tilbury Worm finally escapes from the pit and feeds upon the archaeological team before 
  fleeing its confines.
  Schedule of Dig Events
  
  89
  Persons of Interest
  Giles Carnby
  Carnby has pretensions to being a famous archaeologist, 
  but in reality is little more than a glorified treasure hunter, 
  squandering what money he does have on spurious and 
  chancy digs and expeditions based on dubious information. 
  Convinced of his own greatness, he is unfailingly confident and 
  doggedly protective of any discovery, no matter how small.
  Giles Carnby
  Age 33, Faux Archaeologist
  STR 12 
  DEX 12 
  INT 10 
  CON 11
  SIZ 13 
  APP 09 
  POW 17 
  EDU 13
  SAN 60 
   
  Hit Points: 12
  Damage Bonus: +1D4
  Skills: Accounting 20%, Archaeology 31%, Art 25%, 
  Bargain 35%, Credit Rating 55%, Drive Automobile 
  60%, Fast Talk 55%, History 50%, Law 25%, Occult 
  15%, Persuade 45%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 60%, damage 1D3+db
  .455 Webley Revolver 60%, damage 1D10+2
  Appearance: Giles Carnby is an upper-class toff 
  with lank hair and a noticeable overbite. He is driven 
  primarily by greed. In the face of a threat to his gains 
  he will rapidly unravel and use his military pistol to 
  protect his assets. His intense charisma and strength 
  of will make up for his shortcomings, moral and 
  otherwise, but these characteristics also make him 
  proud, arrogant, and unwilling to compromise, even in 
  the face of the devil himself.
  John Cooper, or “Honest John”
  As the dig progresses, Honest John, a simple-minded helper 
  from the village, falls under the telepathic control of the 
  young chthonian in the pit, which manipulates John into 
  selectively sabotaging the dig and slowing down its progress. 
  The immature chthonian needs to feed and to grow before it 
  can escape its confines and it uses John to procure sacrifices 
  for it before making its bid for freedom on the final day, when 
  it will finally have the strength to destroy anything in its path 
  and—with John’s help—to escape.
  John never strays far from Tilbury—it has been impressed 
  upon him from a young age that he is so witless that he would 
  certainly get into trouble if he wandered off. This has developed 
  into a pathological terror of leaving the village. Even the mere 
  suggestion of leaving alarms him. If anyone were to try to drag 
  him beyond the village boundaries, he would start fighting 
  back with terrifying ferocity. Fortunately for humanity, this 
  also means that the chthonian has not been able to use Honest 
  John to travel beyond the boundaries of the waterlogged area 
  around the mound.
  “Honest” John Cooper
  Age 20, Simple Labourer
  STR 15 
  DEX 08 
  INT 07 
  CON 12
  SIZ 17 
  APP 09 
  POW 03 
  EDU 06
  SAN 15 
   
  Hit Points: 15
  Damage Bonus: +1D4
  Skills: Climb 60%, Conceal 45%, Drive Horses 30%, Hide 
  40%, Jump 35%, Sneak 40%, Swim 35%, Throw 45%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 60%, damage 1d3+db
  Grapple 55%, roll STR vs. STR on Resistance Table or 
  be immobilised
  Appearance: “Honest” John is a simple-minded 
  20 year old who has a mental age of roughly 5 years 
  old. Physically strong and very tall, he finds work as a 
  labourer around the village and has fallen in with the 
  archaeology dig, where Giles finds his simple-minded 
  enthusiasm and willingness to muck in with just about 
  anything very useful. His weakness of intellect has also 
  made him useful to the chthonian in the pit, his being 
  the only mind weak and easy enough for the young 
  chthonian to dominate. As the creature’s servant, his 
  eyes take on a new, sharper light, his jaw tightens, and 
  anyone with any perception can see the malevolence 
  lurking behind his now strangely animated gaze.
  Charles Fields
  Charles Fields is a teacher in the local school, an amateur 
  antiquarian and historian. He has studied the village’s history 
  in detail and was Giles Carnby’s first choice as an expert 
  consultant. Fields and Carnby clashed almost instantly—Giles 
  is a high-spirited upper-class lush who sees archaeology as 
  a grand treasure hunt, while Fields is a dour teetotaller who 
  believes the relics of the past should be treated with the utmost 
  respect. Fields also demanded that he should have the primary 
  credit on any published papers, as he has made Tilbury’s 
  history his life’s work, but Giles refused, claiming that as he 
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  90
  Folklore
  was running the dig, he should get the kudos. Fields now 
  loathes Carnby. Fields’ role in this mystery is primarily as red 
  herring—the investigators initially perceive him as a sinister 
  figure, possibly even an occultist. As soon as the sabotage 
  starts, Giles proffers Fields’ name as a possible suspect.
  Charles Fields
  Age 48, Amateur Historian
  STR 09 
  DEX 08 
  INT 14 
  CON 10
  SIZ 12 
  APP 10 
  POW 10 
  EDU 14
  SAN 50 
   
  Hit Points: 11
  Damage Bonus: None
  Skills: Anthropology 50%, Archaeology 45%, 
  Hide 40%, History 60%, Occult 40%, Sneak 40%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 25%, damage 1D3+db
  Appearance: Thin and gaunt, Fields is always dressed 
  in a suit, but not a particularly well-maintained or well-
  tailored one. He wears round spectacles over his dull, 
  brown eyes, propped up over his hawkish nose. He gives 
  the impression of not being particularly well, and blows 
  his nose into his handkerchief with worrying frequency.
  Places of Interest
  Tilbury Church
  The site of Tilbury Church has been occupied by a place of 
  devotion to God for well over a thousand years, and parts of all 
  those previous buildings remain, from single wooden beams 
  to stones in the walls. It has two major features. First are 
  the stained glass windows depicting the saints of the various 
  countries of the British Isles; unusually for a church not far 
  from Wales (whose patron saint is St. David), St. Patrick and 
  St. George are the saints depicted in the largest and most 
  detailed windows. Built into the walls are fragments of the 
  pagan stones that once stood atop Tilbury Hill; these are worn 
  and almost unintelligible, but spiralling patterns and strange, 
  interlocking “knots” can still be made out carved into many of 
  the rocks. The knots are said to describe the “church worm”, a 
  draconic figure known to Tilbury’s children and teenagers who 
  often play in the churchyard.
  Tilbury Hill
  Tilbury Hill is not a hill at all, but rather a man-made mound. 
  Years of erosion have washed out its spiralling shape and 
  removed a great deal of its definition, but its overall shape 
  can still be discerned, a maze of banks and ditches, spiralling 
  in towards the central mound. The archaeological team has 
  set up canvas tents in the field next to the Hill, where they 
  process their finds. A pump and electric lamps have also been 
  set up around the excavation pit they have dug into the central 
  mound, extracting the water and lighting the site to allow 
  them to work later into the night.
  The ground around and under the mound is extremely 
  waterlogged and muddy even at the height of summer, 
  suggesting that there is an underground stream nearby. This 
  makes for difficult archaeology, as trenches flood with water 
  as soon as they are dug. Giles’ pumping machinery is slowly 
  making some headway against the waters. It is these waters 
  which kept the original Tilbury Worm from escaping back 
  into the subterranean depths, and which are now keeping its 
  spawn trapped as well. 
  Carnby is a dilettante and does not really know a great deal 
  about archaeology, though many of the people working with 
  him do. They are not necessarily experts on the right period, 
  however, just experts at digging and dating artefacts. He really 
  needs the investigators’ advice and insight, but tries to present 
  their involvement in the dig as being a favour that he is doing 
  for them.
  
  91
  Carnby is constantly pushing the diggers to work faster and 
  harder, and as a result the archaeology is suffering. Encouraged 
  by the discovery of the coins, he is treasure hunting, thinking 
  he may have found a hoard of gold or a sacrificial site, and thus 
  expecting to find all sorts of riches that may have been offered 
  to the site’s pagan gods over the centuries.
  Vitrified Stone 
  The vitrified, partially melted stone of the bowl within the 
  mound is strongly reminiscent of the outer walls of the 
  mysterious “vitrified forts” of Scotland. These are walls, 
  usually located on hillsides, whose stones have been fused 
  and melted together as if by some tremendous heat. The 
  origin of these forts, and how such heat was brought to bear 
  on the rocks, is a mystery.
  Experiments in the 1930s showed that it was possible to use 
  a tremendous bonfire to cause vitrification, but that does not 
  wholly explain the phenomenon. A huge bonfire only caused 
  a few stones to vitrify – doing the same to a whole hill fort 
  would require seemingly impossible amounts of fuel. The 
  effects of vitrification also make it hard to assign an age to 
  the forts, but they are generally assumed to date from 900 
  BC to 900 AD. Most of the vitrified forts are in Scotland, but 
  other examples have been found elsewhere.
  The revelation that a chthonian was involved in the creation 
  of the Tilbury bowl might impel investigators to look into the 
  stone forts. Keepers interested in discovering what terrifying 
  horrors gnaw the ancient granite of Scotland might look to 
  Cthulhu Britannica: Shadows Over Scotland, which provides 
  extensive coverage of Scotland and the Mythos terrors that 
  inhabit that northern country in the 1920s.
  The Tilbury Worm
  The Tilbury Worm is a crippled, half-starved, juvenile 
  chthonian, desperate to escape from its prison. It is half 
  insane from its confinement and from the psychically induced, 
  rapid growth it has been forced to undergo. It is almost 
  entirely reliant on John’s eyes, ears, and hands to do much of 
  anything, and harbours an irrational hatred for the minds it 
  detects around the dig site, blaming the interfering humans 
  for the fact that it was even born into such an enclosed and 
  terrible place.
  The Tilbury Worm
  Juvenile Chthonian
  STR 13 
  DEX 08 
  INT 15 
  CON 22
  SIZ 19 
  APP – 
  POW 16 
  EDU –
  SAN – 
   
  Hit Points: 17
  Damage Bonus: +1D4
  Weapons: Crush 50%, damage 3D6+db
  Tentacles 45%, damage 1D6 on first hit and 1D6+1D6 
  CON drain each round following
  Armour: 1-point skin and the chthonian regenerates 
  1 hit point per round
  Sanity Loss: 1 / 1D10 to see the immature chthonian
  Appearance: Vaguely dragon-like, but in fact more 
  like an earth-bound squid, the immature chthonian 
  is greyish in colour and covered in a thick, viscous 
  slime. A weak chanting sound accompanies it, seeming 
  to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same 
  time. Though small, the creature is still more than 10 
  feet long and possesses 1D4+1 tentacles that can reach 
  another 5 feet. 
  Revelation
  The chthonian’s initial scheme was to have Honest John carry 
  it out of the village, away from the water-logged ground, but 
  the simple-minded youth would not leave his home. On its 
  own, the chthonian hopes to get far enough away from the 
  village to escape the humans and the waterlogged soil so that 
  it can burrow down into the earth and call its kin from the 
  depths via telepathy. 
  The creature’s plan requires John to help it delay the dig until 
  the pumps have removed enough water to allow it to escape 
  and later establish a telepathic connection to the underworld. 
  It will then call for help—and if this happens, there are few 
  powers on Earth capable of stopping its colossal brethren.
  Destroying the young chthonian is worth 1D10 Sanity points. 
  However, unless the characters can extricate John from its 
  psychic tendrils first, he shares in the creature’s death agonies 
  and is driven mad, which will cost each of the characters 1D6 
  points of Sanity. 
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  92
  Folklore
  - The Horror Out of Time -
  Intrigue
  Before the advent of humanity, in a time when the Earth was 
  young, the flying polyps warred against the elder things and 
  the Great Race of Yith. The invading polyps had been beaten 
  back before, but in this latest conflict they prevailed. However, 
  not every battle went their way, and many polyps were injured 
  or killed by the combined technology and magic of the elder 
  things and Yithians as they battled over the ancient Earth.
  An untold number of injured flying polyps could not be 
  removed from the battlefields, and so were put in hibernation 
  capsules, entering into a dormant state, protected by magic 
  and organic, multidimensional technology far beyond human 
  understanding. Not all of these alien capsules survived intact; 
  many malfunctioned or were interfered with, killing the 
  injured polyps within or causing their dormancy to extend for 
  millions of years, sustained by their unnatural technology. One 
  such casualty of the ages old war has lain in dreamless sleep 
  beneath the hillside above the village of St. Mary Bourne for all 
  these aeons. That is until recently, when Alan Cullen’s plough 
  struck something just beneath the surface of his field with a 
  resounding “clang” and set off an unimaginably ancient defence 
  system, blasting both him and his tractor with the concussive 
  force native to the flying polyps. The farmer’s ploughing has 
  disturbed the buried capsule of a dormant, injured flying polyp, 
  setting in motion a series of events that will culminate with the 
  release of this ancient horror. The alien capsule has begun to 
  draw natural energies from nearby plant and animal sources in 
  order to awaken and release its wounded occupant.
  The violent impact from the blade of the plough and the 
  concomitant blast of unnatural energy destroyed the tractor 
  and the plough, and severely injured old Alan Cullen. The 
  village doctor, Samuel Everest, is doing his best to treat Cullen 
  and is intrigued by the old farmer’s story. Delirious from his 
  trauma, Cullen has been talking of fairies and the fairylands 
  since his explosive experience. The farmer is convinced that 
  he has inadvertently ploughed into an underground fairy 
  home and brought about the anger of the “fair folk”.
  Dr Everest is fascinated by the occult and the uncanny, and 
  was originally attracted to St. Mary Bourne in part because 
  of folklore associated with the village and in part through his 
  keen interest in geology and fossils. Alan Cullen’s stories of 
  fairies and his proposal that he, and possibly the whole village, 
  might be in danger of fairy reprisals has further intrigued the 
  good doctor. A mystery like this unfolding on his very doorstep 
  is almost a dream come true for Everest, and when the time 
  comes, he will propose that he join the investigators as they 
  look into the strange circumstances in the farmer’s field.
  The doctor’s initial investigation of the injured farmer, the 
  field, and the impossible crater are inconclusive but he does 
  find rich deposits of ancient fossils and the tip of the strange 
  “rock” that the farmer’s plough struck. Over the next few days, 
  the submerged capsule absorbs organic energy at an alarming 
  rate, powering up and preparing to disinter the ancient polyp. 
  As the investigators arrive, the eldritch magic and advanced 
  technologies of the flying polyps conspire to heal and awaken 
  the polyp contained within. The capsule is now draining vital 
  energies from the surrounding area both to power itself and to 
  heal its occupant. Only a day or two remain before the process 
  is complete. Each day is accompanied by strange lights and 
  sounds near the crater, and failing crops and dying animals in 
  the surrounding fields. Soon the great flying polyp will emerge 
  in a great rush of wind, looking to feed and make war.
  Introduction
  A certain Dr Everest of St. Mary Bourne, a small village near 
  the garrison towns of Andover and Tidworth, the former in 
  Hampshire and the latter straddling the Hampshire-Wiltshire 
  border, contacts the investigators. An accident has occurred 
  in the fields around the village during the end of summer 
  ploughing, an explosion of sorts, but like no explosion the 
  doctor has ever seen, causing wounds he has never before 
  encountered. The village doctor has a keen interest in Fortean 
  phenomena, part of the reason he settled his practice in the 
  area, and also the reason why he knew of the investigators’ 
  reputation. He asks if they might be able to assist him in 
  treating the wounds and getting to the bottom of what 
  happened in the fields of St. Mary Bourne.
  Investigation
  The investigators’ first port of call will be Dr Everest himself, 
  who will initially be more excited to see them and question them 
  about their past adventures than to get them involved in his own, 
  perplexing problem. Eventually, however, he will reveal that 
  Alan Cullen, the farmer injured in the accident, has been taken 
  to Andover hospital, some five miles distant, but getting the 
  investigators to see him will not be an issue as Everest still has 
  a clinical role at the hospital and is, in fact, the man’s personal 
  physician. When describing the nature of Cullen’s wounds, 
  investigators experienced with flying polyps might become 
  suspicious of the presence of one of these ancient horrors—or at 
  least the effects of their powers—but they probably will not be 
  able to offer any particular advice on treatment. 
  
  93
  The hillside field in which the accident occurred has not yet 
  been cleared, and the wreckage of the Fordson tractor still lies 
  overturned and scattered about, as well as the twisted wreck of 
  the plough. A large crater has been torn out of the earth—the 
  site of the explosion itself. Closer examination will reveal the 
  top of the rock-like capsule buried in the earth here. Everest 
  will recount the many fanciful tales Cullen was spouting in 
  his delirium of fairies, the fairy court, and the retribution he 
  would face for harming one of their homes or broaching a 
  hidden entrance to fairyland itself.
  Continued investigation at the site of the accident will reveal 
  that a great many fossils and other strange things have been 
  dug up. Dr Everest maintains a collection himself, which he 
  is happy for the investigators to examine, and they might 
  even turn up something interesting themselves in the earth 
  dislodged by the explosion. A successful Cthulhu Mythos roll 
  at the site will suggest that some of the “fossils” might in fact 
  be eroded or cracked pieces from larger artefacts of unknown, 
  even unearthly, origin.
  Particularly enterprising investigators might decide to 
  attempt to dig up the “rock” with another tractor from a 
  nearby farm. Doing so will set off further alarms within the 
  capsule and cause the interned flying polyp to be ejected early. 
  It will be significantly weakened, but nonetheless a powerful 
  adversary. Whether they force the attack now or wait until the 
  polyp emerges under its own power, a physical confrontation 
  with the polyp will be required to destroy or drive it away, and 
  to protect the villagers as it wakes up hungry and in need of 
  sustenance to empower its return to its own kind.
  Persons of Interest
  Alan Cullen
  The farmer Alan Cullen was a hale and hearty man in his mid-
  fifties when the explosion occurred. Now he is desiccated and 
  withered down one side of his body, as though all the fluid had 
  been sucked out of him, his skin wrinkled like a prune, his 
  muscle wasted away, and the skin reddened and burned like 
  leather, agonising to the touch. Doctors are trying to rehydrate 
  him to save his life, and have him heavily sedated on morphine, 
  which makes him less than coherent. He can, however, still 
  describe his accident. Cullen is convinced that his wounds and 
  the destruction of his farming equipment are the consequences 
  of having damaged an underground entrance to fairyland or to 
  a powerful fairy’s subterranean halls. He will recount at length 
  the stories told to him as a child about the powerful and often 
  benevolent fair folk but also of the terrible price that would 
  be paid for destroying any of their properties. Regarding the 
  moments before the explosion, he explains:
  “There was a terrible, loud clang. I’d hit something under the 
  soil, something hidden. At first I thought it might just a big 
  flint, but then the tractor packed up, and there was this huge 
  gust of wind right up from under the ground. It weren’t an 
  explosion as such, but more like a gale, and it burned, burned 
  something awful, where it touched me, like fire but wi’ no 
  fire. The explosion sent the tractor and plough flying up and 
  breakin’ apart like kids’ toys. Then the howlin’ wind stopped, 
  and I could see that the ground had collapsed around the 
  fairy stone. I’m lucky someone heard it. The fairies might’ve 
  dragged me away then and there!”
  Doctor Everest
  Dr Samuel Everest is a keen young city doctor who has moved 
  out to the countryside to build himself a practice. He took to 
  St Mary Bourne in particular, due to his interest in fossils and 
  investigations in Victorian times into the seemingly peculiar 
  longevity of its residents. Now that something really interesting 
  is happening, he is eager to join the investigators every step 
  of the way, offering his amateurish insights and thoughts as 
  he does so. The doctor is an avid collector of fossils and local 
  folklore, and so might actually prove genuinely useful.
  Doctor Samuel Everest
  Age 32, Village Doctor
  STR 10 
  DEX 08 
  INT 17 
  CON 10
  SIZ 12 
  APP 15 
  POW 12 
  EDU 18
  SAN 60 
   
  Hit Points: 11
  Damage Bonus: None
  Skills: Archaeology 21%, Astronomy 21%, Biology 
  71%, Credit Rating 45%, Drive Automobile 50%, First 
  Aid 90%, Handgun 50%, History 40%, Library Use 
  65%, Medicine 85%, Natural History 30%, Occult 45%, 
  Pharmacy 51%, Shotgun 40%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 60%, damage 1D3+db
  Appearance: Dr Everest is a young, energetic and 
  attractive man of 32 years. He wears a simple but well-
  fitting country suit in shades of grey and occasionally 
  a matching hat. He has a lean physique, owing to his 
  fondness for walking along the country lanes. His 
  bright blue eyes and tousled strawberry blonde hair 
  bring him much attention from the local women, but 
  he has to this point refrained from entering into any 
  romantic engagements. His interests lie in his current 
  practice and in the Fortean aspects of the surrounding 
  countryside.
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  94
  Folklore
  Places of Interest
  St. Mary Bourne
  The village of St. Mary Bourne is a pleasant and picturesque 
  village in the heart of Hampshire, nestled between two chalk 
  hills and surrounded by deciduous copses and lush farmer’s 
  fields. The river Bourne, a trickling stream of very clear and 
  pure water, bisects it. The village is a popular and prosperous 
  place to live and is very old, appearing in the Domesday Book 
  with buildings dating back to 1066 still dotted about the village.
  St. Mary Bourne is currently expanding, with construction going 
  on in various places around the village to provide more homes to 
  meet demand. The village has two pubs and a Methodist chapel 
  in addition to its main Church of England church. The main 
  road winds through the length of the village, and the village’s 
  expansion is gradually joining it to two nearby villages, Stoke 
  and Binley, turning them into a single settlement, although they 
  retain their separate identities for now.
  Fortean St. Mary Bourne 
  There are a couple of ghost stories and numerous 
  fairy tales associated with St. Mary Bourne and the 
  surrounding valley, but nothing that would make 
  the village particularly famous. During the Victorian 
  era, the village was mainly known for the longevity 
  of its residents: a great many locals—far more than 
  the national average—lived into their nineties. Local 
  folklore suggested that this longevity came from living 
  in close proximity to the ageless fairy folk. Other, 
  stranger folk tales suggested that the locals in question 
  were descended from fairy changelings. 
  Several doctors came from London and elsewhere in 
  the country to study this anomalous longevity, but none 
  of this research ever resulted in a solid conclusion. 
  Dr Everest has been seeking an answer to the same 
  question himself, though the difference in lifespan is no 
  longer as pronounced as it once was. His evidence so far 
  points towards the valley’s microclimate and the rich 
  calcium in the water, but he is also willing to consider 
  more esoteric causes, especially after Alan Cullen’s 
  strange encounter and insistence on the existence of 
  the fair folk.
  Doctor Everest’s Fossil Collection
  The doctor maintains a collection of fossils taken from the surrounding fields, bought from curio shops, or purchased directly from some of the locals of St. 
  Mary Bourne. The overwhelming majority are simply sea urchins and ammonites, but among his collection are a few more esoteric objects. One of these is 
  the fossilized limb of an elder thing, though there is little to mark it as such in its current state, but investigators who have knowledge or experience of such 
  things—roll Cthulhu Mythos—might feel a wave of terror rush over them. Have those investigators roll SAN and lose 0 / 1D2 points of Sanity accordingly.
  The second item is a strange stone engraved with an unusually drawn elder sign. The stone is roughly the size of a large man’s fist and weighs five pounds. 
  The elder sign itself is potent, but the stone has been invested with elder thing magic—something utterly incomprehensible to the human mind. The stone 
  feels warm to the touch regardless of external temperatures, as though something inside it were emitting a gentle heat. The power of this elder sign will 
  remain unknown until acted upon by other Mythos magic. In essence, the possessor of this elder sign is magically protected against 1D6 magical attacks, 
  whether the magic is cast or resulting from an innate power (e.g. a flying polyp’s tentacle attack). The empowered elder sign completely negates all magical 
  effects until its power is spent, at which point it functions as a normal elder sign.
  
  95
  The Smithy
  The village blacksmith and motor mechanic operate out of 
  the same premises, fixing the local farm machinery, from 
  surviving steam engines to the newer tractors and motor 
  cars, as well as selling fuel and tyres. They can offer some 
  insights into what damaged the tractor in Cullen’s accident: 
  for example, explaining that the vehicle appeared to have been 
  shoved forcefully upwards or “blown up” from below. 
  Additionally, the oil and fuel in Cullen’s tractor were completely 
  dried out into a caking sludge and the paint stripped from the 
  bodywork, the metal beneath pitted and scored as though 
  sand-blasted. The blacksmith can perform any bespoke work 
  that the investigators might want doing, including welding 
  and metalworking.
  The George Pub
  The George is the main pub in the village. A solid, red-brick 
  building, it is the most popular watering hole and sits on the 
  village square serving food and drink to everyone. Formerly 
  an important coaching stop, it offers a place to stay for visiting 
  investigators. The pub is also likely to be the place people 
  will seek communal refuge if or when the flying polyp breaks 
  free and attacks the village. The pub is the closest thing to a 
  fortified building in town apart from the church (St. Peter’s), 
  another likely place of shelter. A number of paintings, plaques, 
  and other curious pieces of folk art depict scenes that include 
  fairies and other fae spirits.
  Derry Down Copse
  On the crest of the hill where Cullen’s accident occurred, Derry 
  Down Copse is a popular dog-walking area where primroses 
  and bluebells grow in the spring. Its trees provide good cover 
  for anyone watching the field while hidden, although they 
  form only a relatively thin strip between the fields on either 
  side of the hill. Much of the woods are overgrown with thorns, 
  bramble, and dog roses off the main paths. Numerous fairy 
  rings decorate the grassy edges of the copse. 
  Hillside Field
  The hillside field is overgrown with grass and has barely been 
  ploughed, with a brown scar running from the top right of the 
  field to about halfway across before coming to an abrupt end 
  in a large sinkhole-like crater. Cullen’s broken tractor is still 
  there, overturned, missing a wheel, its body bent and badly 
  scratched. The plough, on the other hand, has been snapped in 
  half, and sections of the various blades are distributed around 
  the field over more than 500 feet.
  Especially attuned characters—rolling a critical or impale 
  Spot Hidden result—may note that the bizarre crater itself 
  seems to hum with power. Anyone walking into the crater 
  and touching the ground will be surprised to find it deathly 
  cold to the touch. In fact, prolonged exposure (e.g. more 
  than fifteen minutes in the area) will cause the loss of one hit 
  point as the hidden alien capsule leeches the warmth and life 
  energy from anyone nearby. All the plant life in the area is 
  slowly dying off, turning oddly black and brittle. As the days 
  progress, nearby animals in the adjacent woods and fields 
  will start to sicken and die as well, and the circle of dead 
  vegetation spreads further.
  Extending several metres beneath the crater is an enormous 
  chitinous capsule. The exposed end of the capsule looks like 
  nothing so much as a large grey rock, bearing a long crack 
  where the plough impacted with it. If the investigators dig 
  down more than a metre, however, the look of the thing 
  changes greatly. More than a metre below the surface the 
  exterior of the capsule looks more like a giant insect’s chrysalis 
  or a coral growth, still largely grey, but with portions of the 
  shape covered in a strange gold-brown sheen. Exposing the 
  capsule to this depth costs 0 / 1D2 points of SAN.
  The capsule is extremely resistant to damage and virtually 
  impervious to anything except heavy machinery or explosives. 
  Lurking within the biomechanical cylinder is the dormant 
  flying polyp, slowly being roused to wakefulness, occasionally 
  shifting and causing a discernible motion just beneath the 
  capsule shell. Fully exposing the capsule, which requires many 
  hours and the use of tractors or similar heavy equipment, 
  incurs a further Sanity loss of 1 / 1D4.
  The Flying Polyp
  The flying polyp has lain beneath the chalk downs for aeons, 
  waiting to re-awaken. When it finally does so, it will find that 
  the world has changed unimaginably. Whether the creature 
  is driven mad or not is impossible to tell, but its intention is 
  to feed on the local fauna—including the villagers of St. Mary 
  Bourne—to regain its strength before attempting to return to 
  its own kind. 
  To that end, when it emerges from the upward end of the 
  capsule, it will aim to consume a number of hit points equal to 
  its SIZ (i.e. 50 points in total) by attacking with its tentacles. 
  That accomplished, it will fly up into the sky and out of sight, 
  to seek out a surviving polyp city elsewhere in the world, 
  the closest one likely being somewhere in the mountainous 
  highlands of Scotland to the north.
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  96
  Folklore
  Flying Polyp, Ageless
  Weakened Ancient Warrior
  STR 45 
  DEX 16 
  INT 18 
  CON 25
  SIZ 50 
  APP – 
  POW 23 
  EDU –
  SAN – 
   
  Hit Points: 26
  Move: 8 / 12 flying
  Damage Bonus: +5D6 (applies to wind blast only)
  Weapons: Tentacle 75%, damage 1D10
  Wind blast 60%, damage db, but decreasing by 1D6 for 
  every 50 feet of intervening distance
  Armour: 4-point, plus invisibility (see below); 
  additionally, the flying polyp takes minimum damage from 
  physical weapons, but enchanted weapons, elements, and 
  other energies do full damage
  Spells: None, or as the Keeper desires
  Skills: Hide 30%, Track 35%
  Sanity Loss: 1D3 / 1D20 to see a Flying Polyp
  Appearance: The polyp is a squirming, writhing mass 
  of black tentacles, dark with age, its body bulging and 
  twitching with staring eyes and gaping mouths, constantly 
  whistling like a kettle and piping in an unearthly fashion. As 
  it emerges, its capsule will crack open like a scab, bleeding 
  a vaporous, oily goo as the polyp breaks free, rising above 
  the crater and setting its many eyes upon the lights of the 
  village below.
  Special Abilities: Invisibility – spending a single magic 
  point, the flying polyp turns invisible for a single round, 
  though it can still be attacked with a successful Listen roll 
  and attack roll at –50%. Polyps are always phasing in and 
  out of this reality, and so any attacks made against them are 
  at –25% in any case.
  Special Attacks: Each special attack below costs the 
  flying polyp 1 magic point to use.
  Fixing Attack – the polyp can create a sucking wind that 
  fixes its prey in place, but still allows it to move. Characters 
  must match their STR against the flying polyp’s POW on the 
  Resistance Table. From 200 to 1,000 yards the difficulty to 
  resist is equal to half the polyp’s POW; within 200 yards 
  it is equal to its POW. Add +5% to each target’s chance to 
  resist if employed against multiple targets.
  Tentacle Attack – flying polyps are constantly extruding 
  and absorbing tentacles. In its weakened state, the polyp 
  can only attack with 1D6 tentacles in any round. Damage is 
  always 1D10, but ignores armour: the wound desiccates and 
  drains the tissue of life.
  Wind Blast – the flying polyp attacks with a 10 foot-
  diameter column of literally flesh-stripping wind out to 
  a distance of 50 feet doing 5D6 damage, sending targets 
  tumbling a number of feet equal to the damage inflicted. 
  For every 50 feet beyond the initial attack radius, damage 
  is reduced 1D6.
  Windstorm Attack – the polyp can create a twelve mile-
  per-hour wind within 200 yards, losing five miles per hour 
  after that and another five for every additional 200 yards 
  further away.
  Revelation
  The investigators have two likely choices in this scenario: 
  they can either organise a dig to confront the polyp while still 
  within its capsule—that is, assuming they know or learn what 
  lies within—or they can attempt to prepare for the moment 
  when the polyp emerges, fortifying themselves as best they 
  can. Alternatively, the characters might use the time they have 
  to try to develop a means of sealing the creature away for good 
  and ensuring that it can never escape from its chalky tomb. 
  Waiting for the flying polyp to emerge will give the 
  investigators time to call in favours, potential allies, and 
  additional firepower. They might even overcome the villagers’ 
  disbelief, debunking the fairy connection and convincing the 
  villagers to leave or take up arms against the creature before it 
  is too late. If the village is completely deserted when the polyp 
  emerges, it might just sate itself with woodland creatures or 
  livestock rather than people before departing.
  This scenario involves a genuine and direct encounter with 
  something truly alien and ancient, similar in atmosphere to 
  the opening scenes of H. G. Wells’ The War of the Worlds. 
  A similar sort of incredulity and horror on the part of the 
  villagers would be an appropriate response to the presence of 
  this ancient evil in their quiet and slumbering village.
  Successfully destroying the polyp is worth 1D10 Sanity. 
  Leaving the polyp free to ravage the world costs 1D10 Sanity. 
  
  97
  Imprisoning the creature to let future generations deal with it 
  costs 1D4 Sanity—the characters have temporarily averted the 
  horror, but the polyp is still there, waiting, and at night the 
  investigators hear the wind in the treetops and shudder.
  - Daughters of the Sea -
  Intrigue
  All along the Devon and Cornwall coast smuggling and 
  wrecking were important sources of income for local people, 
  and the source of much of their folklore and local heroes, in 
  the same way that Robin Hood and Dick Turpin were lionized 
  elsewhere. Immortalized in the book Jamaica Inn, the 
  activities of the wreckers and smugglers have been somewhat 
  exaggerated, but all the same there did exist genuine 
  “characters” such as John Carter, the “King of Prussia,” who 
  surrounded his Land’s End base with cannon to see off the 
  Excise men.
  The old laws stipulated that anything washed up on the shore, 
  such as a shipwreck, was free salvage, and fishing villages 
  could grow rich off such plunder. However, if anyone on the 
  wreck was found alive, the salvage rights did not apply. As a 
  result, bedraggled and sodden survivors were often murdered 
  and tossed back into the sea to ensure that the wreckers reaped 
  the full spoils of their “good fortune.” They would completely 
  dissemble a ship, carrying away everything from its cargo to 
  its sails and timbers, leaving almost nothing behind to show 
  that the wreck had ever existed.
  While this may seem dreadful enough, the wreckers’ terrible 
  reputation comes from folk stories of them deliberately 
  wrecking ships. Some wreckers were known to set false 
  lights on the shoreline to make ships lose their bearings and 
  cause them to run aground. Others were said to tie lanterns 
  to horses’ saddles and drive them across the cliff tops so that 
  ships might crash on the jagged rocks below. Numerous other 
  nefarious and equally apocryphal methods can be found in 
  folklore throughout the British Isles.
  The same stretches of coast are often also associated with folk 
  tales of weather witches and sea witches. Tradition holds that 
  sailors lived in fear of these powerful witches and their ability 
  to call up storms and drive ships upon the rocks. So fearful 
  were seamen and so sure of the witches’ existence that they 
  often called on sorcery and superstition to protect themselves. 
  Some folklore suggests that Sir Francis Drake sold his soul 
  to the devil to ensure his protection against weather witches 
  and sea monsters, which could account for his many long and 
  successful voyages. Other tales recount that Drake himself 
  conspired with sea witches to call down storms and tumult 
  upon the Spanish Armada so as to sink it.
  So although wreckers were indeed seen as a blight along the 
  British coastline, the power of the sea witches was deemed a far 
  greater threat. Sadly for merchant sailors and their captains, 
  the two often worked side by side and tales of weather witches 
  and wreckers are thus closely entwined, as witch-called storms 
  brought wreck after wreck to British shores, particularly along 
  the coasts of Devon, Cornwall, and the Scilly Isles. On these 
  southernmost shores of England, many successful wreckers 
  relied wholly on the powers of their weather witches, and on 
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  98
  Folklore
  the ties between the deep ones and the many fishing villages 
  of the Cornish coast.
  Even in the 1920s, the influence of the deep ones and their 
  ancient magic is closely reflected in many Cornish traditions, 
  and even in the peculiarities of the Cornish language and 
  the local dialect. This is largely due to the proximity of a 
  significant deep one city, Ahu-Y’hloa, lying off the coast of 
  Cornwall between Penzance and Paimpol in France, and 
  exerting its subtle influence from St. Just to Dartmouth. The 
  preponderance of Neolithic sites across these southernmost 
  counties again shows the influence of these blasphemous, 
  batrachian creatures down through human history, although 
  many of the more obscene megaliths have since been 
  destroyed, buried, or defaced in the centuries that followed. 
  The origins of the contract between deep ones and humans 
  has long been forgotten by the majority of local fisher folk, 
  but never by the deep ones themselves. Centuries ago, the 
  deep ones made contact with the humans of the Cornish 
  coast and, driven by their inhuman mating urges, sought to 
  breed with them. The humans refused and instead placated 
  the deep ones by ensuring regular sacrifices to Dagon. The 
  ships wrecked by the sea witches and plundered by the 
  wreckers provided more than enough bodies to appease 
  Dagon and his deep one disciples. And so, satisfied with the 
  regular drowned sacrifices, the deep ones left the villagers 
  largely unmolested and have continued to honour this simple 
  contract for centuries.
  In the 1920s, however, wrecking has all but died out due to 
  changes in the law and more effective enforcement. Acts of 
  intentional wrecking have been rare in the last half century, 
  although the occasional wreck still provides scavengers with a 
  windfall, and weather witches might still continue to exist in 
  some of the more isolated villages. Most people in these small 
  coastal villages have all but forgotten the connection between 
  the wreckers, the sea witches, and the dark contract that has 
  kept them safe from those who dwell beneath the dark waves. 
  The deep ones, however, forget nothing.
  Introduction
  The village of Cadgwith has had lifeboats since 1867 and its 
  lifeboat-men have built up a heroic reputation, holding the 
  record for the most lives saved in a single rescue, namely 
  two hundred and twenty-seven souls saved when the SS 
  Suevic foundered in fog and gales upon the Stag Rocks in 
  1907. It is a reputation that has put Cadgwith on the map 
  and brought a much needed boost to the pride of a village 
  otherwise stagnating from widespread unemployment and 
  lack of investment.
  Being experienced sailors, the lifeboat-men are a superstitious 
  lot at the best of times, but the things they have seen during 
  their recent rescues have convinced them all the more that 
  something strange and unnatural is happening just off the 
  shores of England. Increasingly concerned for their own safety 
  and that of passing ships, and reluctant to bring their concerns 
  to the proper authorities for fear of ridicule, they have instead 
  decided to approach freelance investigators for help. None of 
  them has any definite evidence, but their superstitions and 
  suspicions might be enough to put the investigators on the 
  right track.
  The simplest way to introduce the investigators to the worries 
  of the lifeboat-men is to have word reach them via letter, 
  telegraph, or a contact near the investigators’ homes. Another 
  alternative is that the investigators are already in the region 
  and their reputation is discovered in a pub one night, which 
  ultimately leads to someone approaching them to solicit their 
  help in the troubles at Cadgwith. 
  Another possibility is that the characters hear of a rash of 
  disappearances in Cadgwith as the deep ones of Ahu-Y’hloa 
  finally react to the lack of sacrifices from Cadgwith. If the 
  humans will not honour Father Dagon and Mother Hydra 
  with drownings, the deep ones will make sure that the errant 
  humans honour Dagon and Hydra with their flesh instead. 
  Some will be killed, but the deep ones’ greater intention is to 
  mate with the villagers and produce hybrid offspring.
  Meanwhile the cabal of weather witches in Cadgwith 
  begins to conduct its own parallel research into the strange 
  disappearances and drownings. They might well manipulate 
  the investigators to further their own aims (e.g. getting 
  them to help translate ancient inscriptions or stealing the 
  investigators’ notes at night), if an opportunity presents itself. 
  Once the cabal learns of the truth behind the ancient contract 
  with the deep ones and understands that the town, and the 
  witches themselves, have failed to fulfil that contract, the cabal 
  of witches grows divided. Some argue that they should give up 
  their powers, in the hopes that the deep ones will accept that 
  the ancient bargain has lapsed. Others point out that if they 
  do not continue to work their weather magic, their husbands 
  and sons will be at risk when fishing and sailing. One of the 
  cabal, Mary Tregarthen, secretly wants the deep ones to claim 
  her—she has, in fact, taken to worshipping Dagon and Hydra 
  in secret.
  
  99
  Investigation
  Cadgwith is a village of two halves. As it has expanded and 
  grown in importance, a new wave of settlers has arrived, 
  displacing and supplementing the descendants of the original 
  medieval population that has lived here uninterrupted since 
  the 1300s. One half of this original population—mostly male—
  are welcoming enough to the investigators, despite viewing 
  them as outsiders with strange accents and behaviour; 
  however, the other half—largely female—are cold and distant 
  to the investigators, and far less willing to answer their 
  questions.
  Research into the town’s history shows that while other 
  communities in the area have suffered from shipwrecks, 
  storms, and other disasters, Cadgwith has enjoyed an almost 
  ‘charmed’ existence for centuries. The boats of Cadgwith hardly 
  ever sink and the fishermen always bring in a good catch. 
  There are several odd relics in the village that might prove 
  relevant, such as ancient carved stones with oddly inhuman 
  glyphs, and salvage from wrecks bearing strange claw-like 
  markings, possibly made by the deep ones themselves. 
  During the investigation, the villagers hold an annual 
  ceremony called the “Wedding of the Sea”. In this ritual, 
  one of the village girls is ceremonially wedded to the sea, 
  symbolising the village’s dependence on the ocean’s bounty. 
  The village bride wades into the water in a white gown, 
  whereupon a young man (traditionally the bride’s brother or 
  lover) runs in after her, pushes her to safety toward the shore, 
  and then pretends to drown, thus reminding the villagers of 
  the eternal dangers of the sea. This year, the intended bride 
  is young Alice Boddinar, but she “falls sick” that morning, 
  and Mary Tregarthen takes her place. When the time comes 
  for Mary to be “rescued” from the ocean, she struggles overly 
  dramatically with the young man, who suffers a cramp and 
  actually drowns (see the write-up for Mary Tregarthen in the 
  Persons of Interest section below for the truth behind this 
  apparent tragedy).
  Eventually investigation will reveal the tight-lipped conspiracy 
  of a small number of Cadgwith’s women. They are in fact 
  weather witches who use their witchcraft to calm the sea 
  and protect their lifeboat-men and to call up great shoals of 
  fish for their fishermen. Characters with occult knowledge or 
  experience of similar coastal villages may recognise signs of 
  deep one influence with a successful Cthulhu Mythos roll, but 
  none of the villagers has the tell-tale Innsmouth look—at this 
  point, they are all humans, not hybrid monsters. 
  Over the course of the investigation, the village is beset by 
  strange events. Decaying bodies wash up on shore—the 
  victims of decades-old shipwrecks. Curious storms wrack 
  the skies, but never affect the harbour. Eerie lights are seen 
  underwater as something comes closer and closer to the shore. 
  Most alarming of all, investigators outside at night might be 
  abducted by noisome things from the sea.
  Persons of Interest
  The Lifeboat-men
  The lifeboat-men talk of the unnatural weather during their 
  recent excursions, how storms now come up out of nothing, 
  and how villages further down the coast never seem to report 
  the same sort of thing. They speak of fog rising up impossibly 
  fast in clear conditions, fog so thick that you cannot see a foot 
  in front of your face, and of empty ships drifting crewless 
  onto the rocks with no living crew and no bodies ever being 
  found or recovered. In particular, they speak of how every 
  time they’ve put out to sea recently for a rescue, the storms 
  and waves have seemed to rise against them, as though the sea 
  itself were trying to hamper their efforts. And yet, despite all 
  these perils, the lifeboat-men themselves never seem to be at 
  risk. They have an enviable safety record.
  The Fishermen
  The fishermen have their own tales, very different from those 
  of the lifeboat-men, which tell of calm and peaceful seas 
  that teem with fish whatever the season, and say that life 
  in Cadgwith is an easy one compared to many villages. For 
  them the sea is a welcoming place, hard but fair, which has 
  bestowed them with great bounty and reward. If pressed 
  further, however, many fishing families will admit to missing 
  sons and daughters, attributing their loss to the treacherous 
  coast and the difficulties of the fishing life, even in relatively 
  calm waters. They seem inured to losses that are so common 
  here. Through their traditions, the fishermen unwittingly 
  know the spell Attract Fish (for a description of the spell refer 
  to the Call of Cthulhu rulebook) remembered as nonsense 
  rhymes and songs to the sea that they always intone and sing 
  while out fishing.
  The Women
  When first encountered, the women of the village tend to be 
  tight-lipped and more prone to scowling unwelcomingly rather 
  than smiling. They are openly suspicious of the investigators’ 
  presence and covertly doing all they can to stonewall their 
  investigations. Their concern is that the investigators will 
  spread nonsense that will bring further misfortune to the 
  village and leave it with a bad reputation. If pressed about 
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  100
  Folklore
  witchcraft, most women in the village will laugh (a little too 
  nervously) and tell the investigators to put such fanciful 
  thoughts behind them. 
  In truth, only the wives and mothers of six old families retain 
  the lore and constitute the weather witch cabal: the Boddinar, 
  Carbis, Geefe, Kliskey, Penaluna, and Tregarthen families. 
  Many of the other families are aware of a past that involved 
  witchcraft, but do not believe that such activities have 
  continued into the present day. Should any of the true weather 
  witches be accosted directly or be otherwise intimidated, their 
  defence for keeping quiet is that accusations of witchcraft cost 
  many lives in olden times, and they are not particularly keen 
  to see such witch-hunts return in the present day. They will 
  stand by their firm belief that, although they use magic, they 
  do no harm.
  Dunstan Montgomery
  Age 37, Diver and Self-Proclaimed Adventurer
  STR 15 
  DEX 14 
  INT 12 
  CON 13
  SIZ 15 
  APP 09 
  POW 08 
  EDU 12
  SAN 40 
   
  Hit Points: 12
  Damage Bonus: +1D4
  Skills: Archaeology 41%, Bargain 15%, Climb 50%, 
  Credit Rating 25%, Dodge 38%, Drive Automobile 
  30%, Electrical Repair 30%, First Aid 40%, Geology 
  31%, History 40%, Library Use 35%, Mechanical 
  Repair 50%, Natural History 30%, Navigate 40%, Pilot 
  Boat 31%, Spot Hidden 55%, Swim 55%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 60%, damage 1D3+db
  Appearance: Montgomery is short, slightly overweight 
  and otherwise unremarkable. He is very keen, but 
  neither particularly noteworthy nor capable. He likes to 
  think of himself as part of the grand tradition of great 
  explorers and “men of the age,” but while physically 
  capable he lacks the focus and dedication necessary to 
  really make a go of it. Fortunately for him, “Monty”, 
  as he is known back home, comes from a very wealthy 
  family.
  Dunstan Montgomery
  Dunstan is entirely incidental to the investigation, but he is 
  present in the village, with several pairs of diving suits and 
  helmets and a small team of assistants, diving the waters 
  around the Stags and the Manacles (see Places of Interest 
  below) to examine the wrecks there and see what items of 
  archaeological interest he can recover. If suitably convinced—
  or sufficiently bribed—he will be more than willing to let the 
  investigators use his equipment or accompany him on one 
  of his dives. Many of the wrecks are indeed a little peculiar, 
  with claw marks on the wood and metal and leftover signs of 
  struggle, such as musket shot stuck into the wooden beams, 
  and other indicators that seem only partially consistent 
  with foundering in a storm. Deep one scouts might even be 
  glimpsed down there, hiding among the kelp, with a critical 
  or impale result on Spot Hidden, for example. These scouts 
  will immediately vanish into the murky depths.
  Colenso Tregarthen, the Weather Witch Matriarch
  Colenso Tregarthen is the “queen bee” of the weather witches 
  and of the old Cadgwith families. Although she does not realise 
  it, she has inspired the worst sort of attitude and empty pride 
  in her daughter Mary.
  Colenso Tregarthen
  Age 50, Weather Witch Matriarch
  STR 10 
  DEX 08 
  INT 14 
  CON 12
  SIZ 12 
  APP 16 
  POW 16 
  EDU 12
  SAN 20 
   
  Hit Points: 12
  Damage Bonus: +0
  Skills: Art (Singing) 35%, Astronomy 31%, Bargain 
  35%, Climb 50%, Craft (Net making) 45%, Cthulhu 
  Mythos 10%, Dodge 26%, Fast Talk 25%, First Aid 50%, 
  History 40%, Natural History 30%, Navigate 30%, 
  Occult 75%, Persuade 35%, Pilot Boat 21%, Swim 55%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 20%, damage 1D3+db
  Spells: Alter Weather, Attract Fish, Augur, Contact 
  Deep One, Evil Eye; each spell has been passed down 
  through oral history from largely erroneous grimoires 
  dating back to the Middle Ages 
  Appearance: A formidable and rather imposing 
  woman who has been careful to maintain her good 
  looks and appears to be significantly younger than 
  her fifty years, Colenso has long steel-grey hair and an 
  imperious carriage.  She keeps the other witches and 
  village women in line as much through fear as anything 
  else. She has personally lost three sons to the call of 
  the sea, and draws meaning for that loss from the old 
  traditions, using them to prop up her failing sanity.
  
  101
  Mary Tregarthen
  Colenso Tregarthen’s eldest daughter, and one of the youngest 
  members of the cabal, Mary has gone beyond her mother’s 
  tutelage and spent years reading the mouldering books of lore 
  she dug out of the family’s attic. She knows that the “sea devils” 
  are more than just myth, and that the wrecks are actually a 
  form of sacrifice. She has become obsessed with the worship 
  of Dagon and dreams of sunken Ahu-Y’hloa. She would 
  welcome the chance to consort with the deep ones. During 
  the ritual wedding, she poisons Alice Boddinar so she can be 
  ceremonially “wed to the sea” herself, which she believes will 
  presage her mating with a deep one.
  Mary Tregarthen
  Age 23, Weather Witch and Neophyte of Dagon
  STR 12 
  DEX 10 
  INT 13 
  CON 12
  SIZ 11 
  APP 14 
  POW 18 
  EDU 14
  SAN 0 
   
  Hit Points: 11
  Damage Bonus: +0
  Skills: Art (Singing) 50%, Climb 60%, Craft (Net 
  making) 35%, Cthulhu Mythos 15%, Dodge 30%, Fast 
  Talk 45%, First Aid 40%, History 30%, Natural History 
  20%, Navigate 30%, Occult 75%, Persuade 25%, Pilot 
  Boat 21%, Swim 55%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 30%, damage 1D3+db
  Spells: Alter Weather, Attract Fish, Augur, and Evil Eye 
  Appearance: Mary Tregarthen bears a youthful beauty 
  that makes many women jealous of her. Her mother, 
  however, is not one of them and is more striking still. 
  This has led to conflict between them in the past and 
  Mary has always proven strident and wayward. Her 
  lithe form, long blonde hair, and warm hazel eyes have 
  also attracted the gaze of the young men of the village, 
  but Mary is ‘saving herself’ for something very different. 
  She dreams nightly of being taken as a deep one bride 
  and living in Ahu-Y’hloa under the penetrating gaze of 
  Father Dagon. 
  Weather Witches
  The weather witches of Cadgwith have all been raised with 
  the secret and all-consuming belief that they alone can 
  provide protection for their families from the sea, and that the 
  prosperity of Cadgwith and the village folk depends on their 
  secret magic. The cabal of witches is comprised of eight girls 
  and young women, and seven wives and mothers. Between 
  them, the women range in age between twelve and forty, and 
  all are subservient to the cabal matriarch, Colenso Tregarthen. 
  The witches are helped by some of their menfolk, another 
  fifteen men and boys of the same age range.
  Each of the witches knows how to assist in Colenso’s Alter 
  Weather spell, in essence sacrificing their magic points along 
  with hers, and typically also know one of Colenso’s other 
  spells, though she reserves knowledge of the Evil Eye spell for 
  herself and her daughter to preserve her family’s supremacy 
  and to keep the rest of the women in line. None of the witches, 
  including Colenso Tregarthen, knows of Mary Tregarthen’s 
  secret desire to join the deep ones.
  The witches of Cadgwith have dealt with intruders and enemies 
  in the past. If they decide the investigators present a threat 
  to the coven, matriarch Colenso will take action and, as a 
  result, the characters might suffer nasty boating accidents, be 
  attacked by unnatural weather phenomena, or find the entire 
  village has turned against them. However, if the investigators 
  are sympathetic and helpful, the weather-witches might be 
  willing to listen to them. Later, when the unnatural phenomena 
  affecting the village and villagers grow more forceful and 
  more obviously dangerous, the witches might actively seek out 
  the help of the investigators, particularly if they have shown 
  themselves to have some experience in similar matters.
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  102
  Folklore
  Places of Interest
  Todden Passage
  A promontory called the Todden divides the two beaches of 
  the village. One beach is a shallow slope, mostly shingle and 
  small stones, and the other is a mix of sand and boulders. The 
  Todden divides the two and also contains a natural passage 
  from one to the other. This rocky passage is a shelter from 
  both shore and sea. It is in this natural shelter that the sea 
  witches meet when there is need and at certain times when the 
  tide is out. They cast their spells here in a whispered huddle 
  around a single lantern, guarded by the handful of menfolk 
  who are part of the conspiracy.
  The Stags and the Manacles
  The Stags and the Manacles are two sets of rocks in the sea 
  off the Cornwall coast. These jagged rocky outcroppings are 
  particularly notorious as foundering and wrecking sites, 
  widely recognised as being among the most dangerous points 
  along the already infamous Lizard peninsula, forming the 
  most southerly point in the British Isles. The water here is 
  treacherous and the rocks are particularly sharp and deadly. 
  Many a ship has been sunk here with all hands lost after 
  smashing into these rocks; the sea around is littered with the 
  wrecks of dozens of ships that have succumbed during storms. 
  The area is a site of particular interest to both Dunstan and 
  the deep ones.
  Revelation
  If the investigators do nothing, then the deep ones will come 
  ashore and force themselves on the villagers. Over the next 
  few years, Cadgwith will slowly become another Innsmouth. 
  If the witch cult bands together, they might be able to pool 
  their powers and possibly force the deep ones to leave – but 
  this would mean angering the sea devils. Alternatively, the 
  cult might resume the practice of sacrificing ships to the sea 
  – if there are again regular sacrifices to Dagon and Hydra, the 
  deep ones will leave the village alone. If the investigators have 
  already antagonised the cabal, then the witches might start 
  with them!
  Wiping out the whole cabal is another option, but this means 
  killing fifteen women, most of whom are innocent of any evil 
  intent. The loss of the witches will also ruin the village’s future. 
  The best solution for the investigators may simply be to hand 
  over the worst of the witches to the deep ones, and to find a 
  way for Cadgwith to cope without its weather magic.
  The Sanity gain for saving the village is 1D10; letting it become 
  another Innsmouth or beginning the cycle of sacrifices again 
  costs 1D6 Sanity points. If the investigators become enemies 
  of the deep ones, the creatures might seek revenge on them in 
  the future.
  - The Body Politic -
  Intrigue
  In Scotland and Ireland, nomadic groups of “tinkers” or 
  “travellers” have journeyed along the byways of both countries 
  for more than three centuries, with records of their existence 
  appearing in early 16th century communications of King 
  James IV. It is likely that these nomadic groups, similar to the 
  continental Romani or gypsies, have actually been travelling 
  throughout the British Isles long before that. In the 1920s, 
  these people have taken to calling themselves “travellers” 
  instead of tinkers, and many are beginning to settle down 
  rather than continue their nomadic lifestyle. They have taken 
  native Scots, Irish, and some Europeans into their fold, but still 
  remain very much their own people, with their own traditions, 
  customs, and language—a pidgin of Gaelic, Romany, and their 
  own unique slang.
  Folklore has not been kind to these people and many stories 
  link them to criminal activities, witchcraft, and dark diablerie. 
  They are said to openly conduct pagan rites and practise folk 
  magic, hurling curses and other harmful sorceries at any who 
  cross them. The travellers are even believed to have a special 
  relationship with the little folk and other folklore creatures, 
  particularly those having devious or mischievous natures. Of 
  course, there is no evidence to warrant this characterization 
  and these attributions are largely the result of their living 
  outside accepted society.
  The travellers have also long been persecuted as beggars, 
  outsiders, and thieves, and have been given the unwarranted 
  reputation of being dirty and unclean. Unsurprisingly, the 
  travellers have developed a significant persecution complex 
  and a complex mythology surrounding it. One persecution 
  myth in particular has proven remarkably resilient of late, 
  namely the belief that travellers are actively being hunted for 
  especially gruesome purposes.
  In the wake of the Burke and Hare medical murders in 
  Edinburgh in the 1820s, the travellers of Scotland have 
  believed themselves to be at particular risk of being “body 
  snatched” and their corpses used for institutionalized medical 
  
  103
  practice. An increasing number of unexplained disappearances 
  since the turn of the 20th century seem to give credence to 
  this possibility. Now in the 1920s, the number of travellers 
  that seem to go missing year on year has reached an alarming 
  rate, and the travelling folk and other itinerant wanderers feel 
  they are being targeted, as though they were, in fact, being 
  ‘selected’ for this horrible end.
  THE LEGALITIES OF BODy SNATCHING
  The outcasts of society have always had good reason to be afraid 
  of the establishment, and though it might seem that the body 
  snatchers of the early 19th century were outcasts as well, the 
  practice of body snatching—though technically illegal—was in 
  many ways quietly condoned by those in power and seen as having 
  benefits for the citizenry at large.
   
  The practice came about due to the needs of anatomists 
  seeking to advance their knowledge of the human body and to 
  present such findings to the eager medical minds of the day. It 
  also came down to numbers: anatomists, surgeons, and other 
  medical lecturers at Britain’s most prestigious universities were 
  paid based on the number of students who attended lectures, and 
  those lecturers who could present a cadaver for dissection were 
  guaranteed a large audience. These professors and learned men 
  were very much members of the establishment and the upper class, 
  and so certain laws were “amended” or overlooked to ensure that 
  they and their noble practices were above any recriminations. The 
  fact that this cutting-edge science led to something as disgraceful 
  as body snatching was largely ignored.
   
  Buying the fresh corpses that body snatchers “obtained” 
  was not illegal and, in fact, the doctor who famously bought 
  cadavers from Burke and Hare—Edinburgh’s Dr Knox—was 
  never prosecuted, despite having bought obviously murdered bodies 
  and potentially even encouraged the body snatchers to procure 
  fresher specimens. Digging up corpses after their burial was illegal, 
  although the punishment was less severe than that for theft. Thieves 
  were hanged, whereas body snatchers were merely deported (and 
  for this reason body snatchers, or “Burkers” as they came to be 
  known, were often careful to strip the bodies quickly, disposing of 
  any clothing and jewellery so as to avoid any accusation of theft).
   
  So, despite its unsavoury—and indeed blasphemous—
  nature, body snatching was tacitly encouraged until the shock of 
  Burke and Hare’s murders forced the authorities to re-evaluate 
  how Britain’s medical establishments procured the cadavers they 
  needed for dissection.
  Although it was never proven true, both Marischal and King’s 
  Colleges in Aberdeen (now part of the University of Aberdeen) 
  were believed to be the provinces of a more rarefied form of 
  body snatching, practised not by the criminal element but by 
  doctors and anatomists themselves, and their carefully selected 
  graduate students, sometimes known as “noddies.” Thus teams 
  of gentlemen Burkers and their devout noddies went around 
  the Aberdeen area hunting down people who would not be 
  missed, kidnapping and murdering them so as to use their fresh 
  corpses for anatomical dissection and medical experiments.
  Folklore built up among the travellers concerning body 
  snatchers and their poor victims. Elaborate folk stories were 
  drawn up, fancifully claiming that the Burkers would travel 
  around in black, horse-drawn hearses; that the horses’ shoes 
  were rubber-padded so that their hooves would not sound 
  on the cobblestones; and that the hearses were fitted with a 
  perforated zinc floor to drain the blood away as the snatchers 
  moved from kill to kill. The Burkers and their noddies, it was 
  claimed, even dressed as undertakers, all the better to conceal 
  their nefarious deeds from any casual observer.
  Though colourful and perhaps overly dramatic, the folklore 
  surrounding the body snatching of the 1820s hides a darker 
  truth in the 1920s. A hundred years on, the travellers 
  remain cautious, being especially wary of city folk and other 
  ‘outsiders’, and keeping their small communities tightly knit. 
  They have a right to be cautious and, indeed, suspicious as 
  various disappearances and other strange instances have 
  continued over the past century. The education of anatomists 
  and surgeons can no longer be blamed for people vanishing 
  from their homes or camps: something darker and altogether 
  more evil is at work in the shadows outside the electric glare of 
  the modern streetlamps.
  In Aberdeen, this darker aspect is expressed by a certain 
  Dr Fintry, who is currently seeking to unravel the medical 
  marvels and mysteries that he uncovered on a series of recent 
  expeditions. His intent and sole desire is to bring about a 
  complete paradigm shift in modern medicine. He believes he 
  is on the cusp of advancing the study of anatomy and human 
  physiology one hundred fold. With the knowledge he has 
  uncovered and is still deciphering, mankind will enter an era 
  of development unlike any that has come before it—such is his 
  conviction.
  An accomplished international traveller, Fintry found—and 
  ultimately managed to translate—the alien script written on 
  a series of strange metal tablets discovered during a Tibetan 
  expedition. Data he found within the tablets’ text suggested 
  further tablets and strange artefacts might be found in a 
  remote region of the Scottish Highlands. The next summer he 
  personally funded a small venture to recover what might be 
  found in the Highlands. Not only did he find a further collection 
  of alien tablets, but odd artefacts having geometries and 
  structures not native to Earth. Paying his guides handsomely 
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  104
  Folklore
  for their work and their silence, the doctor worked into the 
  autumn moving the artefacts into his secure laboratory at 
  the University of Aberdeen. He has spent much of the last 
  year in isolation, poring over the tablets, deciphering their 
  hidden, astonishing meanings, and learning what he can of the 
  operation of the strange devices that he brought down from 
  the Highlands. 
  At the start of this year, Fintry finally felt confident enough 
  to begin experimenting with both his new knowledge and the 
  alien artefacts and, to date, he has performed a number of 
  minor medical ‘miracles’, which he has wisely kept quiet. He 
  is a man on the verge of achieving greatness, or so he believes, 
  but his professional pride requires that he continue his tests. 
  For this purpose, he needs human bodies to experiment upon 
  and to build up appropriate evidence before he can finally take 
  his discoveries public and revolutionize medical science.
  To this end, Dr Fintry has been quietly kidnapping people who 
  are unlikely to be missed and using them in his experiments, 
  dead or alive. He has been making enormous progress and 
  has a genius intellect, but his experiments and discoveries 
  have gnawed away at his sanity and left him virtually without 
  conscience or compunction and with no sympathy for ‘lesser’ 
  human beings. He started by hunting amongst the city’s 
  streets and slums, but soon began to worry that this would 
  raise too much attention. He next turned to the traveller 
  populations around Aberdeen, but then discovered that, 
  although politically powerless and unable to call upon the 
  forces of law and order, the Scottish tinkers have other ways 
  of protecting themselves.
  After a botched body snatching by Dr Fintry, a group of 
  travellers decided to take matters into their own hands and 
  several young men from the tinkers tried to break into the 
  University of Aberdeen, looking to rid themselves of Fintry 
  and destroy his laboratory. When the travellers could not find 
  a means of entering Fintry’s secured lab and ran afoul of the 
  University’s security guards, the bungled plan took a turn for 
  the worse. Most of the young men ran and disappeared into 
  the night, but Boldo Lovel, one of the young men involved, was 
  arrested fleeing the scene, and is now being held in the local 
  gaol to await his time before the sheriff.
  In desperation, the travellers have called upon a friend, Dr 
  Andrew Kilbride, who has helped them in the past and is 
  one of the few physicians willing to treat them. It is Kilbride 
  who makes the initial contact with the investigators after the 
  tinkers tell him their seemingly outrageous story. The traveller 
  community is willing to pay whatever is necessary to secure 
  the release of Boldo and see Dr Fintry brought to justice. 
  Introduction
  The investigators receive a personal letter from a Dr Andrew 
  Kilbride of Aberdeen, asking for their help in clearing up a 
  strange situation involving a community of Scottish travellers 
  and an esteemed doctor of anatomy at the University. Kilbride 
  mentions that the tinkers have reason to believe that the noted 
  surgeon, Dr George Fintry, may be behind the disappearance 
  of a number of travellers and local vagrants. Lastly, Dr Kilbride 
  explains the lamentable situation regarding the capture of 
  Boldo Lovel and that clarity regarding Dr Fintry’s activities 
  should result in the release of Lovel, or at least a shortening 
  of his sentence.
  When the investigators arrive in Aberdeen, they will be met 
  by Kilbride and eventually taken outside the city limits to the 
  travellers’ encampment. There they will hear the full story 
  of the misadventure of their rebellious young men and the 
  supposed actions of Dr Fintry that preceded and instigated it. 
  The investigators have the opportunity to do some research, 
  talk to the tinkers and listen to their stories, talk to the police 
  and coroner, and nose around the University of Aberdeen 
  colleges for clues. If they are too overt in their investigations, 
  they might attract the attentions of the paranoid Dr Fintry, 
  who might in turn lash out if he feels threatened.
  Fintry himself has several fresh bodies and captives at his 
  disposal at the moment, and so has no need to go out and 
  capture any more for the time being. There will be a period 
  of calm, perhaps a week, before Fintry ventures out on the 
  streets of Aberdeen again and someone else will go missing. 
  This episode of calm might suggest that the tinkers’ stories 
  are wildly overblown, but the investigators will find that the 
  details they relate are fairly accurate. 
  Hints about what Dr Fintry might be up to and where some 
  of his “unique” ideas and advances may have come from 
  can be found in his background and his accomplishments. 
  This sort of information can be uncovered in his office and 
  from his records, and may set investigators on the right 
  track, depending on their experience or understanding of the 
  Cthulhu Mythos. Once Dr Fintry’s deeds are uncovered, the 
  investigators should react as they see fit. Either they can deal 
  with him themselves in a vigilante fashion, or they can turn 
  him over to the authorities, who will lock him up, never to be 
  seen again. Meanwhile his experiments, logs, and much of his 
  equipment at the University will be mysteriously spirited away 
  (see Dr Alasdair Jacobi below).
  
  105
  Fintry and the mi-go 
  From the age of 25 through to 45, Dr Fintry travelled all 
  over the world with various adventurers and explorers, acting 
  as their medical advisor and physician, helping climbers, 
  trekkers, archaeologists, and other curious individuals with 
  their injuries and doing his best to answer their medical and 
  anthropological questions. On his travels he saw and collected 
  many strange things, but none so strange or fascinating as the 
  metallic tablets and alien artefacts belonging to the alien race of 
  Yuggoth, the mi-go or fungi of the planet recognised as Pluto.
  The information he deciphered from the tablets led him to 
  a mi-go laboratory in the Scottish Highlands hidden near 
  the summit of a mountain peak. In this laboratory, Fintry 
  found not only more metallic records, but also the body of an 
  injured mi-go suspended in a strange crystalline tank. It was 
  Fintry’s intention to remove the alien creature to his lab, but 
  the crystalline structure broke en route and Fintry has done 
  his best to preserve what could be salvaged of the impossible 
  fungus.
  One thing has become clear to Fintry in his study of these 
  nefarious fungi from Yuggoth: these extra-terrestrial beings 
  have an impossibly advanced understanding of surgery and, 
  disturbingly, of human anatomy. Their knowledge and 
  practices far surpass anything that humanity in its dull infancy 
  has managed to learn. Decoding and comprehending even the 
  barest bones of their superior, alien science has opened Fintry’s 
  eyes to the infernal chaos at the centre of the universe and 
  driven the doctor mad in the process. Fintry now accepts their 
  truth as his own: he approaches life from a purely mechanical 
  and chemical point of view, rejecting the idea of a soul, the 
  value of emotions or moral imperatives, or the significance of 
  any human agenda or activity.
  The doctor’s mental processes are still human, albeit stripped 
  of emotion, morality, and any social mores, but his world view 
  has been completely shattered. His perception is bifurcated 
  between a fearful contempt for human insignificance and a 
  horrified dread of mi-go supremacy. All his effort now goes into 
  trying to bridge the gap between the two. Fintry is convinced 
  that humanity must become more like the fungi of Yuggoth. 
  To do anything else would be to submit to madness and see 
  the human race left powerless against the terrible might of the 
  dark cosmic powers that now watch from afar. To Fintry’s 
  mind, understanding the mi-go and their technology is the 
  only way to protect mankind from the sanity-blasting horrors 
  at its doorstep. His mission is a desperate one and, because of 
  this, he has become incredibly paranoid.
  Dr Fintry believes that he alone can delve into the darkness 
  and penetrate the truth of the fungi from Yuggoth. He has set 
  about protecting his discoveries—and himself—from snoopers 
  and interlopers, and will go to any length to ensure that he 
  and his discoveries are safe. He is now utterly obsessed with 
  making as much progress as possible in his studies, no matter 
  the cost or how dark the deeds necessary to his remaining 
  purpose. Simply put, he must learn the mi-go secrets: they 
  are, to him, the key to the future of humanity.
  In need of specimens for his experiments, he has devoted 
  himself—and some of his disturbing creations in the form of 
  the noddies—to capturing test subjects from among the local 
  vagrants and travellers, people who, he believes, will not be 
  missed and who will not go to the authorities for help. These 
  sacrifices are necessary to ensure the safety of mankind. The 
  good doctor knows he has no other choice.
  What Dr Fintry does not realize is that his activities have 
  attracted the attention of the mi-go themselves and that he is 
  under the watch of an agent much closer than he could possibly 
  imagine. Dr Alasdair Jacobi, a fellow anatomist and something 
  of a recluse, is in fact one of the fungi of Yuggoth, a mi-go 
  scientist who has insinuated himself within the University 
  of Aberdeen’s anatomy department. Jacobi watches from a 
  distance and does not interact with Fintry on any level. Should 
  Fintry be killed or taken away, Jacobi has orders to infiltrate 
  the human’s laboratory and remove or destroy all evidence of 
  a mi-go presence.
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  106
  Folklore
  Persons of Interest
  Doctor George Fintry
  Age 51, Addled Genius
  STR 11 
  DEX 14 
  INT 18 
  CON 09
  SIZ 13 
  APP 11 
  POW 13 
  EDU 21
  SAN 0 
   
  Hit Points: 11
  Damage Bonus: +0
  Skills: Anthropology 51%, Archaeology 21%, Astronomy 
  21%, Bargain 25%, Biology 91%, Chemistry 41%, Climb 
  50%, Cthulhu Mythos 20%, Drive Horses 50%, Electrical 
  Repair 30%, Fast Talk 25%, First Aid 60%, History 
  30%, Jump 35%, Library Use 55%, Mechanical Repair 
  50%, Medicine 95%, Natural History 30%, Occult 15%, 
  Persuade 25%, Pharmacy 31%, Photography 20%, 
  Physics 31%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 60%, damage 1D3+db
  Grapple 35%, roll STR vs. STR on Resistance Table or be 
  immobilised
  Armour: Fintry has access to a set of mi-go 
  biomechanical armour that would provide him with 
  8-point armour against blunt attacks, flame, electricity, 
  etc., although it is vulnerable to piercing attacks; 
  however, his inexperience with the suit reduces its 
  effectiveness to 4-point armour
  Spells: Body Warping of Gorgoroth, Compel Flesh, 
  Consume Likeness, Contact Mi-Go, Control Skin, Create 
  Noddy, Create Zombie, Enchant Flesh, Enchant Knife, 
  Flesh Ward, Graft Flesh, Heal, Healing, Nutrient Fluid, 
  Resurrection, Transfer Organ
  Appearance: Dr George Fintry is a formidable man 
  in his early fifties with a light Scots accent and a deep, 
  authoritative voice. His hair is greying and receding at 
  the temples, and he maintains a short, greying beard. His 
  eyes are hollow and deeply shadowed with fatigue, as he 
  has been keeping himself awake with ephedrine to aid his 
  concentration and further his work. Fintry believes in his 
  work and nothing else: all other concerns are subordinate. 
  He will argue adamantly that his work is for the betterment 
  of mankind and the advancement of the human species, 
  but on a personal side, the pursuit of this alien knowledge 
  is all he has left. The doctor is extremely paranoid and 
  protective of his work. If he is ever cornered or found 
  out, he will attempt to defend himself by rationalizing his 
  actions, trying to convince himself as much as anyone.
  New Spells: Create Noddy & Nutrient Fluid 
  New Spell: Create Noddy
  Casting this spell first requires the casting of the 
  Resurrection spell in order to produce the vital ash 
  (composed of essential salts and compounds). The 
  resulting blue-grey ash is then mixed with the caster’s 
  blood to create a sticky, dark paste. Enough paste is 
  created for two noddies. At dawn, the Create Noddy 
  spell is cast with the caster facing east and intoning 
  the name of Shub-Niggurath. This paste must then be 
  fed to a living victim within one hour. The victim will 
  grow quiescent and become the willing slave of the 
  caster for 1D4 days, whereupon the caster must refresh 
  the spell for further effect. The created noddy will not 
  do anything that will obviously endanger its own life. 
  Casting the spell costs 3 magic points and the loss of 
  1D3 Sanity (in addition to the magic points and Sanity 
  expended in casting Resurrection).
  New Spell: Nutrient Fluid
  Creating Nutrient Fluid first requires the casting of the 
  Resurrection spell in order to reduce a mi-go, or mi-go 
  body parts, to a foul-smelling, luminescent pink slurry. 
  This vaguely organic, watery mixture can be used to 
  maintain or revivify mi-go biomechanical armour or 
  other Yuggothian technology. Casting the spell requires 
  that the caster apply the recombinant mixture to the 
  biomechanical construct while sacrificing a varying 
  number of magic points. Casting the spell costs 1 point 
  of Sanity. The applied slurry maintains a single piece 
  of mi-go equipment for one month per magic point 
  expended. Seeing the pink slurry come alive and bond 
  to the biomechanical equipment costs a further 0 / 1 
  Sanity point.
  The Noddies
  The noddies are zombie-like slaves created by Dr Fintry 
  using a stolen mi-go technique. They are people of flesh and 
  blood, reduced to unthinking biological automatons. For his 
  first noddies, Fintry used his graduate students, but found 
  that most of them were too weak for his purposes. He has 
  since taken to using kidnapped labourers or sailors for his 
  sleepwalking henchmen. 
  Noddies are rendered mute and highly suggestible; however, 
  they respond only to the person whose blood was used in 
  
  107
  their creation. They function in an amnesiac state, having no 
  recollection of their previous lives and unable to remember 
  one thing from one moment to the next. They are exceptionally 
  good at performing simple—and simple-minded—tasks. For 
  more complex tasks, the noddies must function by doing each 
  part or process step by step.
  The noddies are bound to Dr Fintry, being both mindlessly 
  obedient and completely loyal to the doctor. The doctor’s 
  current complement of noddies resides in a special house rented 
  by Fintry. When they are not employed, the noddies will always 
  be at home, sitting silently and staring blankly into space. 
  Fintry must make sure to provide the noddies with food daily, 
  but other biological processes are carried out autonomously. If 
  killed, noddies do not regain their memories or awareness: they 
  die as empty husks robbed of feeling or purpose.
  Noddy
  Age varies, Biological Automaton
  STR 11* 
  DEX 11* 
  INT – 
  CON 11*
  SIZ 11* 
  APP 11* 
  POW – 
  EDU –
  SAN – 
   
  Hit Points: 11
  Damage Bonus: +0
  Skills: None
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 40%, damage 1D3+db
  Grapple 25%, roll STR vs. STR on Resistance Table or 
  be immobilised
  Sanity: Comprehending fully what the noddies are 
  costs 0 / 1 Sanity point
  Appearance: Noddies vary in appearance as any normal 
  humans do. What they share amongst them are their 
  extraordinary blank stares and their uncommunicative 
  natures. When not working, the noddies are exceptionally 
  still, showing no emotion and expressing no body 
  language whatsoever.
  * These are average statistics and Keepers should feel 
  free to alter them as they see fit.
  The Travellers
  The band of Scottish travellers or tinkers who have set up 
  camp just outside Aberdeen are similar in most respects to 
  other travellers, gypsies and continental Romani peoples. 
  The travellers now have men on watch every night. For the 
  time being, they are trying to avoid going into the city, but 
  need money and business from the city folk to scrape a living. 
  Normally a quiet community, the travellers have grown 
  restless in response to a number of sudden and unexplained 
  disappearances from their group.
  As time passes they have become increasingly agitated and 
  have grown ever more defensive, feeling themselves to be 
  singled out and persecuted for their chosen way of life. They 
  are now reeling from the recent attempt by Boldo Lovel and 
  other young men in their community to take matters into their 
  own hands. Things now look worse than ever before and the 
  travellers are growing desperate. People talk of leaving, but 
  they cannot and will not leave Boldo behind.
  Normally the travellers’ trust must be gained before they would 
  even consider talking to outsiders, but in the investigators’ 
  case, they will make an exception and give them all the help 
  they can.
  Boldo Lovel
  Boldo Lovel is a young son of the traveller camp and the 
  unluckiest member of the group of young tinker men who 
  ill-advisedly broke into the University of Aberdeen to “sort 
  things out”. Boldo’s friends escaped unharmed and returned 
  to the camp from their night-time foray into Marischal 
  College, but Boldo ran right into four university guards and 
  ended up in the hands of the Aberdeen police. The police are 
  holding him for mischief and pending any further complaints 
  from the University. They are unwilling to let him go until 
  sentencing and consider him a very real flight risk as he is a 
  traveller.
  However, if the investigators can provide bail and take 
  responsibility for his whereabouts, the police will have little 
  choice but to release him for the time being. Achieving his 
  release is the surest means of securing the help and assistance 
  of the travellers, not to mention Boldo’s undying gratitude. 
  Whether he is released or not, Boldo will tell any visiting 
  investigators about his group’s failure to access Dr Fintry’s lab 
  and about the strange, silent companions that the young men 
  saw leaving the lab with the doctor. As a parting thought, he 
  will mention that through the door of the laboratory, he could 
  glimpse strange metallic machines unlike anything he has ever 
  seen before.
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  108
  Folklore
  Boldo Lovel
  Age 22, Young Tinker
  STR 14 
  DEX 11 
  INT 12 
  CON 16
  SIZ 15 
  APP 08 
  POW 07 
  EDU 06
  SAN 31 
   
  Hit Points: 15
  Damage Bonus: +1D4
  Skills: Bargain 25%, Climb 50%, Conceal 25%, Craft 
  (Horn) 45%, Dodge 24%, Drive Horses 40%, Fast Talk 
  15%, First Aid 40%, Hide 20%, Jump 35%, Ride 35%, 
  Shotgun 40%, Sneak 20%, Throw 35%, Track 20%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 70%, damage 1D3+db
  Grapple 45%, roll STR vs. STR on Resistance Table or 
  be immobilised
  Appearance: Boldo Lovel is a tall, thin man of 22 
  years. He has wavy auburn hair and deep blue eyes. 
  His overly large ears and angular jaw sit uncomfortably 
  with his high cheekbones and Roman nose. He is a 
  robust character in the prime of his life and more 
  than a little eager to see the world. He rails against the 
  limitations placed against him and his friends in the 
  traveller camp, but he also acknowledges that without 
  them, he would be lost.
  Doctor Andrew Kilbride
  Dr Andrew Kilbride is friendly with the travellers, far more 
  than most city persons care to be, and helps take care of them 
  and particularly their children when they are ill. He is one of the 
  few people in Aberdeen that the tinkers feel that they can go to 
  for help, and the one person who they believe might be able to 
  find investigators who could offer the right kind of assistance. 
  Dr Kilbride knows of Dr Fintry, but only really by reputation 
  as an explorer, a man of adventure, and more recently as a 
  dark figure in the travellers’ stories. Prior to the arrival of the 
  investigators, Kilbride tried to learn more about Fintry, but 
  was stymied at all turns: the University anatomist seems little 
  more than a distant and obsessive researcher now. Dr Kilbride 
  will help patch up any injured investigators, no questions 
  asked, should the need arise, but he desperately wants the 
  situation to have a positive and harm-free conclusion.
  Doctor Alasdair Jacobi
  Although not a major figure in this story, the mysterious Dr 
  Jacobi hangs in the background like a dark shadow ready to 
  sweep in and clear up much of the mystery behind Dr Fintry’s 
  activities. As the nearest mi-go agent to Dr Fintry—indeed 
  just down the hall—Jacobi has been told to watch Fintry. And 
  watch he does, using biomechanical recorders to monitor Dr 
  Fintry’s progress and to mark his failures. Little does Fintry 
  realize that he has become the subject of some research back 
  on Yuggoth. Fintry’s ability to learn, use, and adapt mi-go 
  technology is being subtly observed and documented.
  Jacobi is also a fail-safe against other humans—the investigators 
  included—finding out about Dr Fintry’s discoveries and the 
  Yuggothian technology. Should it be required, Jacobi will take 
  every action to retrieve or utterly annihilate any information, 
  research, or physical evidence of the fungi of Yuggoth’s activity 
  on this planet. For further information on Dr Jabobi and his own 
  dark strain of research, Keepers can find discussion of Jacobi’s 
  efforts in the ‘Cities in Detail: Aberdeen’ section of Cthulhu 
  Britannica: Shadows over Scotland published by Cubicle 7.
  Places of Interest
  Marischal College Aberdeen
  Marischal College is a significant Gothic building with high, 
  pointed towers, reminiscent of the Tower of Westminster. Its 
  halls and rooms are important seats of learning, particularly 
  in the life sciences and medicine. Its interior can be somewhat 
  labyrinthine, and its students and faculty are as set apart from the 
  life of the city as the travellers are—just in a different direction.
  Dr Fintry’s Laboratory
  Dr Fintry maintains an electrically lit laboratory in the 
  basement behind an impressive, armoured door with a 
  unique electrical lock, inspired by his knowledge of mi-go 
  technology. Attempts to open it require a successful critical 
  or impale Locksmith roll or, alternatively, a halved success 
  on Electrical Repair in combination with a normal success on 
  a Mechanical Repair roll. The door is otherwise impossible 
  to move or budge without a welding torch and several hours 
  or several sticks of dynamite—both of which would draw 
  considerable attention.
  The laboratory itself contains welded cages in which live 
  subjects are kept drugged and chained, as well as a refrigerator 
  in which body parts are kept on ice. Blue-grey Resurrection 
  dust is stored in a cabinet beside a collection of otherworldly, 
  strange devices and an array of surgical tools. More medical 
  paraphernalia litter the small tables and floor of the laboratory, 
  but there are no notes, as Fintry retains all his knowledge in 
  his head, or hidden well away from prying academic eyes. Any 
  investigator who discerns that much of the equipment in the 
  lab is of alien design and origin will suffer the loss of 1 / 1D4 
  points of Sanity.
  
  109
  Hidden in the lab is a large mi-go brain cylinder containing 
  the fungoid head of the mi-go that Fintry unsuccessfully 
  transported back to the lab from the Yuggothian laboratory in 
  the Scottish Highlands. The doctor has managed to reanimate 
  the mi-go brain, and has successfully interrogated it to learn 
  more of medical secrets of the fungi from Yuggoth. If the 
  investigators find the brain cylinder and activate it (0 / 1D3 
  SAN loss), the imprisoned mi-go pretends to be a human 
  victim of the doctor, and asks them to stop the madman by 
  recovering the metal tablets and destroying them along with 
  everything in the lab—including itself—to end the doctor’s 
  diabolical plans.
  Unaware of Dr Jacobi’s observations and the directive from 
  Yuggoth, the entrapped mi-go brain is trying to ensure that all 
  knowledge of it and the Yuggothian technology is destroyed. It 
  will continue to attempt to manipulate the characters towards 
  this course of action, even if denied and removed from the 
  laboratory. The mi-go knows that Fintry’s mindless servants 
  carry the tablets with them off campus, but it does not know 
  where.
  The Noddy House
  The Noddy House is a rented tenement flat on Berry Street not 
  far from Marischal College. The curtains are always drawn and 
  there is never any light from within. The noddies stay inside, 
  sitting in silence when they are not taking care of their (very 
  basic) physical needs. They only become animated when Dr 
  Fintry comes to take them away to do something. The only 
  thing of real interest in the dirty and smelly house is a chest 
  hidden away in the tiny cellar. The noddies present will do 
  what they can to protect the mi-go tablets contained in the 
  chest, but not to the point of losing their own lives.
  The Cool Room
  Marischal College has a cool room for anatomical samples and 
  the preservation of other items. Dr Fintry retains a locker here 
  in which he keeps jars containing the dissected remains of the 
  mi-go retrieved from the Highlands. There are not many items 
  or samples left, however, as much of it has either dissolved 
  away or been rendered down to nutrient fluid by Dr Fintry. 
  Discovering these alien fungoid remains and understanding 
  their significance costs 0 / 1D4 Sanity points. Other samples 
  in the doctor’s locker are mostly from human sources, though 
  some are unusual: fused limbs, adult-sized body parts with 
  infantile characteristics, completely new skin, flexible bone, 
  and so on. These are the results of the doctor’s experiments 
  with mi-go medical techniques.
  King’s College Aberdeen
  King’s College is an ancient building, older than Marischal 
  College, and this is reflected in its relative lack of ornamentation. 
  It is a much more squat, solid-looking structure, the location 
  of the main function rooms of the university as well as many 
  of the offices of both the administration and the faculty. 
  Outsiders are easily spotted; people who should not be there 
  are frequently and easily challenged by people who should. Dr 
  Fintry’s study lies on the second floor of the college.
  Doctor Fintry’s Study
  Dr Fintry retains a study / office in King’s College, but it is 
  readily apparent on first entering the room that he has not 
  used it in some time. It is covered in a thin layer of dust, and 
  most of his reference books and materials are missing. There 
  is evidence of his explorations in the form of photographs and 
  trophies from around the world, showing him in Antarctica, 
  the Himalayas, and South America with his various friends. 
  A bundle of unopened correspondence stands on the table 
  outside the office. There is nothing else of interest here.
  The Records Office
  Entries and information in the Records Office show that Dr 
  Fintry has a locker in the cool room and an office in King’s 
  College, and rents lodgings on Berry Street north of Marischal 
  College. It also shows that much of his current work is being 
  self-funded, although he does receive regular funding and 
  assistance from the University, as does every active researcher. 
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  110
  Folklore
  An Accounting skill roll reveals that Fintry has no listed home 
  address and that all correspondence is currently being taken 
  to his office. Another successful Accounting roll reveals the 
  precise address of the Berry Street tenement flat (see the 
  Noddy House above).
  The Mi-Go Tablets 
  The mi-go tablets found in the chest in the cellar of the Noddy 
  House are made of a strange, dense, and surprisingly heavy metal 
  with an oil-like sheen. When tilted, the sigils—raised lumps on 
  the surface, designed to be felt—flicker through a kaleidoscope 
  of different colours, some seemingly impossible, as the light hits 
  them. In this manner they contain a huge amount of information, 
  in a form usually readable only by the mi-go. Dr Fintry’s 
  extraordinary genius has allowed him to decode and understand 
  the text in a rudimentary fashion.
  While granting him knowledge of numerous medical advances 
  never before imagined, his reading of the tablets has also 
  corrupted his worldview and utterly eroded his sanity over time. 
  Reading the tablets requires a Cthulhu Mythos roll, and success 
  gives an experience check to both the Medicine and Biology skills, 
  as well as the opportunity to learn one of the surgical techniques 
  that Dr Fintry has already learned, at the Keeper’s discretion. Any 
  investigator successfully reading the tablets suffers the loss of 1 
  / 1D4 points of SAN, increases their Cthulhu Mythos score by 1 
  point, and can, should they wish it, learn the spell Contact Mi-Go. 
  A description of the spell and its costs to the caster can be found 
  in the Call of Cthulhu rulebook.
  Revelation
  A successful conclusion to this story sees Boldo Lovel return 
  to his traveller camp and Dr Fintry in the hands of the 
  authorities or dead. The travellers will not be truly satisfied 
  with anything but blood for blood and they do not trust the 
  justice of the city folk (with good reason). If turned over to 
  the authorities, the travellers might yet try to pass their own 
  judgment on Dr Fintry, but they will not succeed as the mi-
  go—who will consider the Fintry experiment ended and need 
  to ensure that the doctor’s knowledge goes no further—will 
  execute him within hours of capture. Back at the University 
  of Aberdeen, Dr Jacobi will spirit away what he can of Fintry’s 
  mi-go discoveries and destroy the human’s laboratory. Should 
  any of the investigators have taken a Yuggothian souvenir, 
  they might well find Jacobi darkening their door.
  Meanwhile less successful or unsuccessful conclusions would 
  allow Dr Fintry to continue his experiments on human subjects 
  and / or see Boldo Lovel incarcerated. If Dr Fintry is allowed 
  to continue his work, the investigators should lose 1D4 Sanity 
  knowing that the doctor’s murderous endeavours will continue 
  unabated. However, if the investigators are successful in 
  stopping Fintry and exposing his deadly activities, they should 
  be rewarded with 1D6 points of Sanity. Keepers may wish to 
  assign further rewards or penalties depending on how they 
  deal with the mi-go tablets or whether they encounter Dr 
  Jacobi.
  - Wedded to the Deep -
  Intrigue
  For thousands of years the deep ones have interbred with 
  groups of Fenlanders inhabiting isolated villages in the 
  naturally marshy east of England. Only with the draining of 
  the Fens and their transformation into rich farmland did this 
  established tradition dwindle, becoming less common overall 
  and, in many areas, dying out completely. Stories of water 
  spirits, changelings, and shape-shifters intermingled with 
  other folklore in these parts and soon the tales of bogeymen 
  from the seas who would kidnap Fenlanders and steal them 
  away to the fairylands were relegated to the nursery as 
  children’s bedtime stories. The horrible truth behind such 
  folktales has largely been forgotten.
  Deep one blood, however, runs strongly all throughout the 
  east of England and Scotland. This dark heritage is especially 
  prevalent along the eastern coastline ports, villages, and 
  towns of Britain, from Wick in the north to Margate in the 
  south, and in many of the island communities from Orkney 
  and the Shetlands to the Scilly Islands. Every so often, the 
  combination of bloodlines and the chance genetics of a 
  particular child throws up a viable hybrid, whose deep one 
  taint comes alive, brings about the grotesque mutation into 
  one of the batrachian creatures, and ultimately draws them 
  back to the sea.
  Such hybrids and the circumstances of their mysterious 
  disappearances are oft remembered in folklore as changelings 
  returning home, men and women kidnapped by jealous spirits, 
  or people drawn to their deaths by jack-o’-lanterns, fox fires, 
  or will-o’-the-wisps—all underlying the truth of deep ones 
  travelling into the fens to procure sacrifices to Dagon, Hydra, 
  or Cthulhu, and / or to steal away children, men, or women 
  for other depraved and abominable purposes. In the 1920s, 
  
  111
  such strange circumstances still occur with men, women, and 
  children vanishing from beaches and, less occasionally, village 
  or town streets.
  Take for example the case of a beautiful young bride being left 
  at the altar of her local church in the small Lincolnshire town 
  of Alford. The groom, Martin Tunstall of the nearby village of 
  Sloothby, never turned up for his wedding, leaving his fiancée, 
  Emma Sheldon, and his in-laws-to-be distraught. The missed 
  wedding is all the more perplexing as Martin and Emma were 
  so clearly in love and had been promised to one another for 
  some time. Both had received the blessings of their families 
  and it seemed a match made in heaven.
  Now Martin appears to have simply vanished, raising the 
  concerns of both Emma’s and his own family, and genuinely 
  shocking most of the people of his village. Sloothby, home 
  to the Tunstall family for generations, is a small, close-knit 
  farming community that retains many of the old Fenlander 
  folk traditions and stories. Tunstall’s fiancée, Emma, is from 
  further afield, though not too far: she and her extended family 
  live in the town of Alford, which is currently expanding and 
  has a considerably more modern outlook than the insular, 
  outlying villages. The Sheldons are relatively new to the Alford 
  community, having only lived there for two generations.
  Given the reports of jack-o’-lanterns and will-o’-the-wisps the 
  night before and other reports of odd strangers in Sloothby 
  the day that Tunstall went missing, two distinct suspicions 
  have taken root. Mostly dismissing the relevance of the 
  strange lights seen the night before, the Alford townsfolk 
  are of the opinion that the groom must have fallen foul of 
  kidnappers, although why they should want to steal away poor 
  Martin Tunstall is a mystery. Meanwhile, the generally more 
  superstitious villagers of Sloothby believe that something 
  decidedly supernatural is behind the groom’s disappearance. 
  Over the ensuing hours and days, the Sheldons and the 
  Tunstalls have argued back and forth, but to no useful 
  conclusion. In the end, Emma’s father, Michael Sheldon, has 
  decided that this case requires dedicated private investigators 
  as the police have been of no use whatsoever. He has sent 
  word to his solicitors to contract the services of a group of 
  investigators who might solve this mystery sooner rather than 
  later. Emma is distraught and the longer this drags out the less 
  likely it is that a satisfactory conclusion will result. If some foul 
  play is involved, then something needs to be done to secure 
  Martin’s safety. Meanwhile in Sloothby, the Tunstall family 
  and the villagers remain convinced that something uncanny 
  is afoot, harking back to the old ways, but have no idea how to 
  effect Martin’s return.
  Introduction
  Either through word of mouth or through a request from the 
  Sheldons’ solicitors, the investigators will learn of the sudden 
  and mysterious disappearance of Martin Tunstall. If the 
  characters hear of the disappearance through the solicitors, 
  they will receive little more information but will be reassured 
  that they will be fully informed upon arrival and will be paid 
  an appropriate sum for their assistance in finding and / or 
  recovering the lost groom. If, on the other hand, the characters 
  hear of Martin’s vanishing through word of mouth or the local 
  news, then they will learn of the conflicting suspicions of the 
  Alford townspeople and Sloothby villages, likely with some 
  disparaging commentary questioning the honour of the young 
  man himself and remarking on the despicable act of leaving a 
  bride at the altar. 
  The characters may begin their investigations in either Alford 
  or Sloothby, and will receive differing information from each 
  population. The folkloric elements will be particularly hard 
  to miss in Sloothby, but will also be mentioned, if rather 
  derisorily, in Alford. The characters must choose whether 
  to pursue the kidnapping theory or follow the supernatural 
  path of investigation and the families involved will respond 
  differently according to the investigators’ choices.
   
  Investigation
  The investigators face some serious challenges in getting to 
  the bottom of the case and discovering what has happened 
  to Martin Tunstall. The Sheldons are a wealthy family, but 
  they want a particular outcome from the investigation, and 
  pay little heed to talk of the supernatural, not wishing the 
  investigators to waste their time on wild goose chases. As 
  far as they are concerned, the most likely explanation is that 
  Martin got cold feet and ran away somewhere, although they 
  are disturbed by the suggestion that the young man might 
  have actually been kidnapped. They want the investigators 
  to figure out where he has gone, to pursue him, and to bring 
  him back—either to ‘face the music’ and honour his promise 
  to their daughter or to secure him from his kidnappers and 
  allow the wedding to proceed. They will offer plenty of aid and 
  money to the investigators, as long as—at least on the face 
  of it—the characters are pursuing normal and sane lines of 
  inquiry.
  The Tunstalls, on the other hand, will act cagey towards the 
  investigators. They espouse a firm belief that something 
  supernatural has taken place, but that everything will ‘come 
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  112
  Folklore
  right’ in the end. Although they will not actively dissuade 
  the characters from their investigations, they do—somewhat 
  surprisingly—not want the investigators to interfere overly 
  much. They will fall back on traditional sayings such as “Nature 
  takes care of itself” and “What is meant to be is meant to be”. 
  Keepers will want to make sure initially that the characters 
  don’t perceive this as a lack of caring, but more as a way of 
  coping with a difficult situation.
  That said, the Sloothby villagers and the Tunstall family 
  certainly do not trust outsiders. They also don’t expect the 
  investigators to either understand Fenlander traditions 
  or respect their ways. As a result, they appear extremely 
  recalcitrant and seem to want nothing to do with the 
  investigation. This is, in fact, the truth of the matter as 
  the overwhelming majority of the villagers just want the 
  investigators to go and leave nature to its course. The Tunstalls 
  will not willingly cooperate in any way with the investigation, 
  even to the point of refusing to provide a photograph of their 
  son to the investigators.
  The village priest, Reverend Kelby Mervin, is the only 
  exception to this prevailing attitude: he will be as helpful as 
  he can be, offering every assistance in finding Martin. He is 
  keen, even eager, to see him returned to the loving bosom 
  of his family and fulfil his obligations to his fiancée, Emma. 
  His motives appear to be genuine. He will even offer to find 
  the investigators lodgings while they carry out their plans for 
  finding Martin.
  Over the next few days, the investigation should slowly reveal 
  that Martin has not exactly been kidnapped, but rather that 
  he is been shut away for his own good and the peace of mind 
  of his family and the villagers of Sloothby. There are others 
  looking for him—apart from the investigators—who mean 
  to take him away to a particularly horrific fate, but one that 
  might be unavoidable. In Alford, the Sheldons have no idea 
  what is going on and have been deliberately kept in the dark by 
  the Tunstalls and the Sloothby villagers. Not long before the 
  wedding, the Tunstalls began to notice a change in Martin: he 
  would stare out toward the sea in the east for hours at a time, 
  his skin grew pale and clammy, he developed a thirst that 
  could not be quenched, and he began to suffer from breathing 
  problems.
  Martin’s family and the villagers knew these symptoms all too 
  well from their own local folklore: Martin had been bewitched 
  by the “water spirits” of old. Reading back into their earliest 
  traditions, they discovered that Martin himself would likely 
  mutate into something not entirely human, something truly 
  terrible. To hide this horrid transformation while they search 
  desperately for some kind of cure, the Tunstalls have locked 
  him away in a farm outbuilding with clothes, food, and water, 
  and then spread the rumour that he had simply vanished. Over 
  time, however, their searches have produced no information 
  that might allow Martin to return to his normal, human form. 
  Instead, they have had to watch as he has continued to change 
  and grow more alien with each passing day. The few villagers 
  who know the truth are growing spooked by this unnatural 
  event, but his family can still see that the thing is Martin, no 
  matter what he looks like.
  More worryingly, Reverend Mervin, the village priest of 
  Sloothby, is not what he seems: the Reverend is secretly part 
  of a cult of Mother Hydra known as the Hafgufan (pronounced 
  haff-goo-fan), which has a long tradition of manipulating 
  bloodlines and driving transformations such as Martin’s 
  throughout the Fenlands. Becoming aware of the signs of 
  change in Martin some time ago, Mervin contacted the elders 
  of the Hafgufan cult and brought some of its members to the 
  village to collect Martin and open his eyes to his glorious 
  destiny. By the time they had arrived, however, it was already 
  too late and Martin had disappeared. Currently the cultists 
  remain in the village, staying with the priest, still hoping that 
  they might retrieve Martin and spirit him away to the sea.
  Should the investigators find Martin Tunstall’s location, they 
  will discover him suffering through a strange metamorphosis. 
  
  113
  A successful Cthulhu Mythos roll will determine that Martin is 
  transforming into a deep one hybrid and that the transformation 
  is well upon him. His blood possesses the deep one taint and he 
  is now irrevocably on the path to becoming a hybrid. There is 
  nothing the investigators or his family could possibly do to stop 
  it. They might, however, save him from the dark plans of the 
  Hafgufan who wish to imprison Martin, use him as breeding 
  stock, and infect other young people with the deep one taint.
  Martin himself is no longer fully human: he remembers 
  Emma and his promise, but the draw of the sea is simply too 
  powerful to fight and, having become a monster, he knows he 
  is better off returning to the deep. If the investigators discover 
  him, Martin will attempt to convince them to spirit him away 
  to the coast where he can complete his transformation and 
  join the deep ones, avoiding the perverse machinations of the 
  Hafgufan cult. If they agree, he will also ask them to deliver 
  a note to Emma detailing his undying love and his anguish 
  with having to be eternally parted.
  Persons of Interest
  Martin Tunstall
  At the centre of this tale, Martin Tunstall has been betrayed 
  by his own nature. Until the change came upon him, he was a 
  happy young man preparing for his wedding to Emma and a 
  future full of possibility. Now wracked with pain, the human 
  side of Martin is slowly losing out to the deep one taint within 
  him. He thinks little of Emma, less of his family, and desires 
  only to reach the sea.
  Emma Sheldon
  Emma Sheldon was to be Martin Tunstall’s bride. Now all 
  of that seems to have changed. Despite her suffering Emma 
  does her best to be helpful and will talk at length with the 
  investigators conveying whatever information they might find 
  useful. While Martin is of farming stock, Emma is from a more 
  privileged background, owing to the landowning heritage of 
  her family. She is a slight and attractive woman with bright 
  green eyes and cascading blonde hair. The loss of her fiancé 
  has been a terrible strain and she has recently become paler 
  and thinner than she ever was.
  She is happy to talk about Martin, though she cannot do 
  so without a few tears. She noticed that he had been acting 
  strangely and had become wistful and distant as the wedding 
  approached. She thought he might even be falling ill due 
  to his pallor and cold sweats. She admits now that these 
  physical signs might, in truth, have been evidence of his stress 
  regarding his plans to abandon her. She has no idea why 
  Martin would want to leave her. She might guess that another 
  woman was behind it, but Martin’s actions never suggested 
  any such possibility. Despite his disappearance and being left 
  at the altar, Emma still wants him back.
  Reverend Kelby Mervin
  Reverend Mervin is of old stock, but despite that—or perhaps 
  because of it—he stands apart from the village and their 
  traditions, keeping to his own and, for the sake of appearances, 
  to those of the church. In reality he is an important member 
  of the Hafgufan, a deep one cult devoted to Mother Hydra. 
  The cult has existed in secret for the past century or so and 
  Martin Tunstall
  Age 23, Deep One Hybrid
  STR 17/20*   DEX 11 
  INT 15 
  CON 16
  SIZ 12/15*   APP 13/00* 
  POW 09 
  EDU 09
  SAN 04/00* 
   
  Hit Points: 13/14
  Damage Bonus: +1D4 / +1D6*
  Skills: Bargain 25%, Climb 60%, Craft (Animal Husbandry) 
  55%, Cthulhu Mythos 20%, Dodge 44%, Drive Horses 50%, 
  Hide 30%, Jump 45%, Ride 25%, Shotgun 50%, Sneak 30%, 
  Swim 45%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 45%, damage 1D3+db
  Claws 55%, damage 2D6 (after transformation)
  Sanity Loss: 0 / 1D4 to see Martin in transition; 0 / 1D6 to 
  see ‘Martin’ after his transformation
  Appearance: Martin is the victim of his own bloodline, 
  betrayed by his own genes. Once a fairly handsome man, he 
  is now fully in the grip of transformation, writhing in pain 
  as his body changes, his face elongating, his eyes darkening 
  and becoming expressionless, flaps of flesh flickering at his 
  neck, hands hooking into claws and growing webs between 
  their fingers. At the same time as his body changes, strange 
  new instincts are coming to the fore, strange new knowledge 
  flooding his mind, driving his human side irrevocably 
  insane, eroding it like the ebb and flow of the tide against 
  the shore. The two halves of his nature are in conflict, and 
  the sea is winning...
  (* Statistics given before the slash are for his “half-changed” 
  form; once he has fully transformed, the latter statistics 
  apply)
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  114
  Folklore
  was populous when he joined 30 years ago, but more recently 
  its membership has been on the wane. Mervin is keen to find 
  Martin and secure him away from his family and the village. 
  The Hafgufan cult has great plans for the deep one taint in 
  his blood and his potential as a breeding partner. They intend 
  to keep him imprisoned until their number of viable hybrids 
  increases. Once he has served the cult for many years they 
  will return him to the coast and offer him up to the deep ones 
  themselves.
  Reverend Mervin
  Age 51, Village Priest
  STR 12 
  DEX 12 
  INT 15 
  CON 08
  SIZ 15 
  APP 05 
  POW 15 
  EDU 12
  SAN 06 
   
  Hit Points: 12
  Damage Bonus: +1D4
  Skills: Anthropology 11%, Archaeology 21%, 
  Astronomy 21%, Conceal 45%, Cthulhu Mythos 10%, 
  Drive Automobile 40%, Fast Talk 55%, Hide 20%, 
  History 40%, Library Use 45%, Occult 35%, Persuade 
  55%, Psychology 35%, Sneak 30%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 50%, damage 1D3+db
  Bone Blade 45%, damage 1D6+db
  Spells: Alter Weather, Contact Deep One, and Lure of 
  the Deep
  Appearance: Mervin is a disarming figure, roly-poly, 
  red-faced and sweating, with a cheery personality that 
  can light up a room, though he can be a little manic. He 
  possesses a deep one relic by virtue of his double life as 
  a cultist leader, a blade of bone with a coral hilt once 
  gifted to his cultist predecessors by the deep ones.
  The Tunstall Family
  The Tunstall family consists of grandfather Joseph, mother 
  Ellen, father Eli, daughter Jennifer, and three sons David, 
  Craig, and Martin. The Tunstalls live in an old farmhouse 
  and still work the land, although these days they take more 
  of a supervisory role over their numerous employees rather 
  than getting their hands dirty. Stoic and quite honourable, 
  the family members prefer to say nothing rather than lie, and 
  will do all they can to shut out and dissuade the investigators. 
  They have entrusted Martin to the care of a close neighbour, 
  John Kelly, who holds the troubled youth secured in one of 
  his farm outbuildings. Ellen and Jennifer sneak off nightly to 
  take Martin food, drink, and a few provisions, although he is 
  increasingly less interested in eating human food and taking 
  care of hygiene. It breaks both mother’s and daughter’s heart 
  to see him as he is now, not to mention costing them some 
  Sanity points as well.
  New Spell: Lure of the Deep
  The spell Lure of the Deep conjures forth a series of 
  dancing, phosphorescent orbs, like those found glowing 
  on the bodies of deep water fish. One orb is created for 
  every 2 magic points spent and each orb can keep one 
  target hypnotized and subject to suggestions. Casting 
  the spell costs a single Sanity point and causes those 
  who perceive the glowing orbs to make a POW vs. 
  POW roll on the Resistance Table or become transfixed 
  and susceptible to simple suggestions from the caster, 
  such as “follow me.” Any more complex or dangerous 
  commands allow the target another Resistance roll. The 
  orbs can be created only at night and last only as long as 
  they are kept out of the light. Any light source stronger 
  than a candle immediately disrupts and destroys the 
  orbs. A person hypnotized by means of the orbs must 
  maintain constant line of sight with the orbs or the 
  trance will be instantly broken.
  The Sheldon Family
  Emma Sheldon is an only child, and the Sheldons are 
  extremely protective of her and extremely mindful of their 
  social position. Unlike the Tunstalls, they do not work the 
  land, instead making their money from the loan or sale of land 
  to farmers and the rental of houses, as well as some business 
  dabblings. While they want the investigators to succeed, they 
  do not want to be associated openly with them, preferring to act 
  through their solicitors. The Sheldons expect the investigation 
  to proceed along mundane, conventional lines without any of 
  this “supernatural” nonsense. Other than that, they will be 
  extremely helpful, and happy to bankroll the investigation and 
  any sensible expenditures.
  The Hafgufan
  The Hafgufan are the remnants of an ancient cult devoted to 
  the deep ones and Mother Hydra, made up principally of those 
  in whom the deep one blood flows most strongly. Although in 
  decline, the Hafgufan can nonetheless still muster a handful 
  or two of cultists to try and help those on whom the bloodline 
  has begun to work its transformation, helping them to the sea 
  to fulfil their destiny and serve their masters. Their priesthood 
  retains some magical lore, but otherwise the cult acts more like 
  a small-scale masonic lodge among the farmers and fishermen 
  along the coast and in the Fens. Many members also seek 
  positions in local politics or the church. The four cultist brutes 
  who have come to help Reverend Mervin are currently sleeping 
  in his attic and spare room, all having arrived by motor car, of 
  
  115
  which there are two parked outside the rectory. They have no 
  special magical knowledge or gear.
  Hafgufan Cultists
  Servitor Brutes
  Char.
  1
  2
  3
  STR
  15
  14
  17
  CON
  10
  11
  14
  SIZ
  10
  13
  10
  INT
  07
  13
  10
  POW
  12
  10
  08
  DEX
  11
  08
  07
  HP
  10
  12
  12
  Damage Bonus: +1D4
  Skills: Climb 45%, Hide 30%, Jump 35%, Listen 40%, 
  Sneak 20%, Spot Hidden 50%, Track 40%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 40%, damage 1D4 + db
  Grapple 30%, roll STR vs. STR on Resistance Table or 
  be immobilised
  Appearance: The Hafgufan cultists look no different 
  from most people in the area, despite each having 
  something of the deep one taint in their blood. They 
  are indistinguishable from most people on Sloothby’s 
  streets. They are, however, extremely devoted to the 
  Hafgufan cult and the plan to acquire Martin Tunstall. 
  As a result, they will do everything in their power, short 
  of endangering their lives, to secure the deep one hybrid.
  Places of Interest
  The Village Fête
  It was to have been a summer wedding before everything went 
  wrong, and the village will still hold its annual fête during 
  the time the investigators are there, kidnapping or not. The 
  Sloothby fête is a small affair and, despite it being summertime 
  rather than spring, they have maypole dancing with garlanded 
  girls clutching strands of blue, white, and green cloth circling 
  the pole. Other fête traditions include the ceremonial casting 
  of a gold or silver coin into a well to grant luck and clean water 
  for the year to come. Finally, the priest walks the bounds of 
  the village, bestowing a blessing for much the same purpose, 
  giving the local superstitions a Christian, churchy veneer.
  The fête is a good opportunity for the investigators to gather 
  information from beer-loosened tongues and to observe the 
  strangely maritime rituals, tales, and songs of the village, 
  more suited to the salty bogs of old or the seaside than to a 
  simple farming community. Everything winds down towards 
  sunset when people retire to their homes. The last remaining 
  revellers will either go to a party held in one of their homes or 
  to the local pub.
  Martin Tunstall’s Hideaway
  Martin is hidden away in a brick outbuilding on the fields 
  belonging to John Kelly, one of the Tunstall family’s most 
  trusted friends. The building is boarded up and rickety-
  looking, with a partially caved-in roof, but is otherwise quite 
  stable. Inside, Martin is chained to several deeply-buried 
  metal stakes. His clothes and personal items, brought from the 
  house, are arrayed around him on the dusty floor, although he 
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  116
  Folklore
  can no longer fit into them. A nearby trough of water lets him 
  wet himself down and drink his fill as he is very thirsty. His 
  mother and sister bring him food each night, but of late he 
  has not eaten it as he is losing his appetite for human food. 
  The building is well out of earshot, but given the flatness of 
  the surrounding land, anyone approaching with a lantern 
  and torch-light by night could be observed from any of the 
  neighbouring farms.
  Revelation
  Martin Tunstall’s imprisonment has done nothing whatsoever 
  to slow his transformation into a deep one hybrid, and he 
  is now too far gone for any hope of recovery. His humanity 
  is slipping away piece by piece, and within days there will 
  be nothing but a deep one left in his place. His love for his 
  fiancée will be one of the last things to fade, but everyone and 
  everything else is lost to him. When his transformation is 
  complete, Martin will be a danger to anyone around him and 
  will fight to break his bonds and run overland for the nearby 
  sea. The Hafgufan, however, want to turn one imprisonment 
  into another and don’t mind who gets hurt in the process.
  Although it will break Emma’s heart, the most satisfactory 
  solution comes from the investigators helping her unfortunate 
  fiancé to flee to the water’s edge and to sink below the 
  waves to complete his transformation into a deep one. If the 
  investigators successfully avoid the Hafgufan cult and free 
  Martin, they should be rewarded with 1D8 SAN. If they free 
  Martin but are blissfully unaware of the cult’s plans for him, 
  they should be rewarded 1D6 points of Sanity. The investigators 
  may go on from here to expose the dangerous cult and Keepers 
  might wish to develop scenarios that will allow them to engage 
  with the cult and perhaps their deep one masters. 
  The loss of Martin may be mitigated if the investigators are 
  able to deliver a note from Martin to Emma or if they are able 
  to concoct a story that maintains the honour of both parties 
  and allows Emma to move on. For successfully achieving this, 
  Keepers may wish to reward the characters with an additional 
  point of Sanity. The Sheldon family will, good to their word, 
  reward the investigators financially for bringing the matter 
  to a close, even if their worst fears are realized. The Tunstall 
  family will be grateful for any help that the investigators bring 
  in dealing with their son’s troubles.
  If, however, the investigators do not succeed in freeing Martin 
  Tunstall and he is acquired by the Hafgufan cult, they should 
  lose 1D6 points of Sanity and will have to live with the knowledge 
  that the diabolical cult intends to use him and his tainted blood 
  to expand their numbers and the worship of the blasphemous 
  Mother Hydra. This penalty may be raised to 1D8 points of SAN 
  if the investigators—unwittingly or otherwise—hand Martin 
  over to the Hafgufan cult. Lastly, if the characters learn the true 
  prevalence of the deep one taint historically throughout this 
  area of England and understand what that means in terms of 
  leading to further hybrid problems, Keepers might choose to 
  have the investigators lose an additional point of Sanity.
  - The Company of Wolves -
  Intrigue
  From 1904 to 1905 rumours and folk tales of the “Allendale 
  Wolf” were rife in the north of England. The massive wolf, 
  larger than any canine beast, was said to be killing livestock 
  and frightening local people. Some compared its appearance 
  to that of the black dogs of folklore while others claimed the 
  beast was more like a werewolf. It was witnessed by a large 
  number of people, but was never caught. Traditional hunting 
  techniques as well as the most modern, scientific tracking 
  methods of the day were used, but neither method produced 
  any evidence of the Allendale Wolf. Eventually the number 
  of sightings dropped away, and with it people’s concern and 
  apprehension regarding the mysterious beast.
  In the end, the wolf of Allendale became one more folktale to 
  join a long list of myths and legends about mysterious dogs, 
  large cats, and other strange animals said to roam the British 
  countryside. Over the next decade and more, the tale and 
  the wolf were largely forgotten.  Forgotten or not, however, 
  two “wolves” do in fact roam the farmlands around Hexham, 
  but not true wolves as people imagine. They are in truth two 
  ancient and powerful spirit guardians, created millennia ago 
  in a terrifying Celtic ritual. Throughout history, these spirit 
  guardians have been kept in check, controlled—to a large 
  extent—by whoever possesses the strange pair of stone-carved 
  heads that hold their essence.
  Each of these carved stone heads presents a vague likeness 
  of the original man who gave up his life and bound his spirit 
  eternally to the carving so as to create one of the guardians. 
  Also bound to the carved heads are the souls of wolves 
  trapped and sacrificed centuries ago. Not werewolves in the 
  conventionally understood sense, the spirits of men and 
  wolves are intertwined within the spirit guardians. The wolves’ 
  force of will and hunting prowess are tempered by the men’s 
  loyalty, purpose, and essential humanity. Together, the spirit 
  guardians protected the Celtic tribe of the region against the 
  
  117
  dark and unnatural forces that once preyed upon man with 
  impunity. The combined wolf-man spirits were able to attack 
  foes that were immune to flint, bronze, iron, or fire, and could 
  pursue enemies even into the spirit world and other perilous 
  dimensions. As such, they offered some protection against the 
  Mythos creatures inhabiting Britain in that age.
  The original Celtic tribe that created the wolf spirits have long 
  since disappeared. As their civilization waned, the Celts were 
  driven out by invaders. The sacred carved heads were buried 
  with one of the Celtic chieftains in a burial mound. There the 
  spirit guardians slumbered for uncounted years, until they 
  were awoken again when the carved heads were accidentally 
  uncovered in 1904 by a local farmer, who had unwittingly 
  unearthed the edge of an ancient barrow while ploughing close 
  to a woodland on the edge of his fields. 
  The fist-sized stone carvings lay on the surface, unnoticed by 
  the farmer, mixed in with the ploughed earth. Unforeseen by 
  the Celtic druids and shamans, the centuries alone with only 
  the company of wolves had driven the human spirits mad and 
  resulted in them resurfacing as raving, predatory creatures. The 
  guardian spirits were guardians no more and the unchecked 
  aggression of the wolves raged out against the world around 
  them. They attacked and killed livestock and pets, and harassed 
  and terrorized humans throughout the area.
  The frightened and perplexed people of Hexham formed 
  a committee to investigate and deal with the threat. That 
  committee hired William Briddick, an experienced hunter 
  who promised to hunt down the wolves “on scientific lines”. 
  His methods initially proved totally ineffective against the 
  supernatural creatures, but one moonless night he stumbled 
  by accident across the trail of one of the wolves. He followed it 
  through the woods, but over the course of the night, the hunter 
  became the hunted. The ghostly wolves stalked Briddick, toying 
  with him, until by chance he found the lonely barrow on the 
  edge of the woods where the carved heads lay exposed.
  He found that the wolves would not attack as he lay panting 
  on the edge of the barrow. They would not advance and they 
  did not threaten him as they had done. When his hand hit one 
  of the carved heads, the corresponding ghost wolf howled. 
  As he found the second head, again the corresponding wolf 
  spirit howled. He thought to throw them, but instead buried 
  the stone heads in the tilled earth and to his relief the ghostly 
  wolves vanished completely. Briddick staggered out of the 
  woods that morning exhausted and half-mad. He never 
  spoke of the heads, or his misadventure, to anyone. He quit 
  his contract with the Hexham committee and did his best to 
  suppress his own memories of the wolves. 
  Nearly twenty years passed quietly with no further mention of 
  the strange Allendale wolf, of black dogs, or of other strange 
  beasts prowling near Hexham. Then suddenly in the 1920s, 
  the attacks began again. A person or persons unknown have 
  dug up the stone heads and the guardian spirits are being 
  used for some decidedly unsavoury purpose by whoever has 
  gained control of them. Fearful of another public panic, the 
  authorities are trying to keep the recent murder and the 
  possible return of the wolves a secret. 
  William McBride, a local historian and amateur archaeologist, 
  knows well the story of the Allendale Wolf. He was a boy at 
  the time of the original attacks and has long been studying the 
  peculiar mystery of the appearance and then disappearance of 
  the wolf. McBride also has suspicions about the Celtic tribes that 
  once lived in this part of the British Isles and about the nature of 
  a reportedly grisly murder that occurred recently in Hexham and 
  that has been kept very quiet by the police and doctors involved.
  McBride’s own research has led him to believe that the 
  Allendale Wolf was in fact a creature that was half-man, half-
  wolf and quite possibly non-corporeal, or rather some kind of 
  ghost or spirit. Following up on this theory he has stumbled 
  upon a kernel of truth regarding the Celtic tribe’s use of carved 
  stone heads, which they believed could be used as receptacles 
  for a person’s or animal’s soul. The Celts believed that whoever 
  possessed the heads possessed the power of the souls contained 
  in the carvings. Further research told McBride that the Celts 
  often attributed a symbolic purpose to their carved heads, a 
  purpose often related to protection or power and dominance. At 
  other times the heads were said to provide links to the spiritual 
  strength of a beast or of gods, strength that would then manifest 
  itself as a power that the Celts could wield against their enemies. 
  Stone heads carved by the Celts were found across Britain from 
  time to time. McBride began to wonder whether the discovery 
  of a spirit-possessed, carved head could be linked to the 
  mysterious appearance, and just as mysterious disappearance, 
  of the Allendale Wolf. Was the thing actually a spirit wolf? It 
  might be a long shot, but what if such a thing was possible? 
  And what if someone was actually in control of the thing?
  Introduction 
  Wanting to get to the bottom of things and suspecting the 
  worst, McBride has gone out on a limb and contacted the 
  investigators. He has some understanding of the occult and 
  Fortean matters, but not enough to confirm his hypothesis. 
  He is hoping the investigators’ unique skills together with his 
  knowledge will bring them to the proper solution. 
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  118
  Folklore
  McBride suggests that the townsfolk need to be kept in the 
  dark about what is going on to avoid panic and he does not 
  trust the forces of law and order to keep the situation under 
  control or deal with it effectively. He cannot offer much to 
  go on apart from his own hypothesis about the Celtic carved 
  heads. What he lacks in actual evidence, McBride more than 
  makes up for with enthusiasm. He truly believes that the 
  investigators might be able to get to the bottom of this mystery 
  and bring matters to a close before anyone else is hurt—on the 
  latter point, he is very much mistaken—and he is willing to do 
  what he can to help.
  Investigation
  The Hexham police, the local doctor, and the town undertaker 
  are collectively working to keep the murder of Timothy Leigh 
  under wraps until the police can determine more about the 
  killing. The fact that Timothy looks to have been viciously 
  mauled to death by a huge wolf is greatly troubling, and the 
  police are busily working to determine whether or not some 
  foul play is involved or whether or not it truly is possible that 
  the Allendale Wolf—or whatever the thing is—has returned 
  after nearly 20 years. They have released no information to the 
  public and only a very select group of people within Hexham 
  will be aware that Leigh has, in fact, been murdered.
  At the beginning of their investigations, the characters will be 
  forced to rely on McBride’s enthusiastic but patchy theories 
  and what little they can ascertain from the local populace. 
  McBride only knows about Timothy Leigh’s death through a 
  friend in the police force—a friend whom he will not name 
  for fear of getting the officer sacked. Any and all attempts to 
  work with the police will be emphatically turned down and the 
  officers they contact will warn them about spreading news of 
  the murder. They may even threaten the investigators. Thus, 
  if the investigators are keen to examine the body, they will 
  need to break into the Hexham funeral home, an act that, if 
  discovered, could certainly land them in gaol. If several days 
  pass before the investigators attempt to examine the body, 
  they will have to take the extra step of snatching the body from 
  a local graveyard where Leigh’s body will have been buried 
  days earlier. Either way, the wounds on Leigh’s body, which 
  are also documented in the police report and doctor’s files, are 
  consistent with an attack by a large animal such as a bear or a 
  very large wolf.
  Over the course of the characters’ investigation, a number of 
  other murders will take place until finally the police cannot 
  afford to keep the public uninformed and a general call of 
  information regarding the murders and victims is put out. This 
  will only happen when the third murdered victim, Gregory 
  Gibbons, is discovered; otherwise the investigators’ first day 
  or two may be quite quiet. In the days to follow, however, it 
  will become rapidly apparent that Hexham is in the grip of a 
  series of seemingly random murders, occurring in faster and 
  faster succession. The investigators themselves may ultimately 
  be targeted if they are not too careful.
  There is a single thread uniting all the murders, but it is a far 
  from obvious thread and will require a good bit of investigation 
  to pull out of the apparent muddle of unconnected information. 
  The uniting factor is that all of the victims have at one time or 
  another been rivals, enemies, or great annoyances to a certain 
  Margaret Shane. An unassuming and somewhat mousy 
  woman, Shane has a dark side that few, if any, in Hexham 
  might know about. Unbeknownst to all, Margaret Shane is a 
  witch, possessing a special sensitivity to psychic events, and 
  is a young woman who is altogether too fascinated with dark 
  tales of witchcraft and the powers of the Elder Gods.
  Margaret Shane’s Victims 
  Margaret Shane’s first victim—the first one that the characters can investigate—is Timothy Leigh, a young man who 
  rejected Margaret’s earnest advances. As the investigators continue their investigations in Hexham, further murders 
  will occur, including:
  • 
  a rival society girl, one of the very few from the upper classes living in Hexham, who always seemed to do better 
  than Margaret;
  • 
  Gregory Gibbons, a young, attractive  man who spurned her advances;
  • 
  a church usher from Margaret’s local church who kept trying to intercede in her gradual drift away from the Church;
  • 
  a policeman who spotted her out one evening in the fields beyond the town, in the company of a very large “dog” 
  (one of the wolf spirits); and, 
  • 
  other deaths at random, for pettier and pettier reasons.
  Other connected events that might be brought to the investigators’ attention include the bizarre massacre of a herd of 
  sheep belonging to a local farmer and the deaths of numerous pets in and around Hexham.
  
  119
  Margaret’s true magical knowledge is limited and most of her 
  spells are hokum, but she does have a great deal of confidence 
  and is a natural psychic. That self-assurance and paranormal 
  sensitivity, together with her occult and historical knowledge, 
  granted her enough insight to work out that an ancient power 
  was buried not far from her home. With a little investigation, 
  Margaret found the location of the heads and made the 
  connection between the stone relics and the tales of wolves 
  in the area twenty years ago—the same connection made by 
  McBride. She went out into the forest early one morning and 
  dug into the ancient barrow (see below). After surprisingly 
  little effort, Shane acquired one of the heads, not realising that 
  its companion lay buried close by.
  As possessor of the carved stone head, Margaret now controls 
  the wolf spirit guardian bound within and she has learned 
  how to manipulate it for her own purpose. The head responds 
  best to violence and the wolves’ spirits have exerted the same 
  corruptive influence on the witch as they have done to crush 
  the human spirit bound with them. For Shane the journey into 
  madness was short and now she is only too happy to single out 
  targets for her aggression. She grows more accustomed to the 
  wild power of the carved head daily and has begun lashing out 
  at anyone who has crossed her in the past or gets on her nerves 
  in the present.
  Little, quiet Margaret Shane has grown drunk on power and 
  that power has driven her insane, unable to cope with the 
  realization that her dark dreams of magic and mayhem are both 
  true and inherently deadly. At some point, she overreaches 
  herself, thinking the wolf spirit has somehow made her 
  invincible. Eventually either the police or the investigators 
  will catch up with her. Perhaps they will do what she no longer 
  can: confront the dangerous wolf spirit or find a way to lay it 
  to rest—possibly by burying it again, away from the moonlight 
  and stars, or by finding a means of breaking the enchantment 
  and freeing the souls trapped in the strange carved face.
  The Celtic guardian spirits always appear in the form of a massive wolf, 
  which at sunset and sunrise take on a distinctly ghostly quality. The 
  spirit guardians were created several millennia ago during a lengthy 
  ritual sacrifice of twenty-eight wolves, killed in a “wolf pit”, which are 
  now located within the town perimeter on a patch of ground on the edge 
  of Hexham park. Several metres beneath the surface there lies a stone-
  capped mass grave containing the remains of these twenty-eight wolves, 
  and also of two men, dating back to an era when the region belonged to 
  Celtic tribes. Uncanny, eldritch magics were used to fuse the ferocious 
  and tenacious spirits of the wolves with the animating force, minds, and 
  sense of duty of the men, and to bind them within the two carved stone 
  heads.
  As long as these carved heads are kept underground, they remain 
  dormant, shielded from the enervating light of the stars and moon. If 
  they are exposed to moon or star light, however, the spirit guardians 
  are able to manifest, and will follow the orders of whoever bears the 
  head to which they are bound—in this most recent case, the Hexham 
  witch, Margaret Shane. The spirits have been bound for considerably 
  longer than they were intended to be and the wolf souls have corrupted 
  the human soul in each head. The result of this is that the spirit guardians 
  are now savage and unchained. 
  The power and violence of the heads can prove intoxicating to some 
  minds. Margaret Shane has been seduced by this strength and animal 
  ferocity, which allows her to indulge her basest desires for power and 
  recognition. As the days wear on and the influence of the wolf spirits 
  grows stronger, it will become increasingly difficult for anyone to discern 
  where the witch’s desire ends and the wolves’ begins.
  The Guardian Spirits 
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  120
  Folklore
  Persons of Interest
  William Briddick
  William Briddick now lives some distance away from Hexham 
  and it is a whole day’s round trip to visit him. He is wizened 
  and sun-weathered, surrounded by trophies of past glories 
  and drunk to the point of near-incoherence for much of the 
  day. He is still strong and fit, but he appears addled and grows 
  quiet whenever anyone asks about his experiences with the 
  Allendale Wolf in 1904 and 1905. The memory of those wolves 
  still gnaws away at his mind.
  Briddick was the hunter involved in the original hunt for 
  the Allendale Wolf back between 1904 and 1905, and who 
  stumbled upon the connection between the ancient carven 
  heads and the wolves. He is in his sixties now, and somewhat 
  worse for wear due to his hard-drinking lifestyle. It is clear 
  that the experience took a considerable toll on Mr Briddick, 
  and asking too many questions might upset the old man. 
  Interestingly, the investigators are not the only ones to have 
  asked him about the wolves recently: he recalls a young lady 
  calling on him a month or so ago. They shared a few drinks 
  and talked, but he cannot remember much about her.
  Looking back some 20 years, he cannot recall much of what 
  happened during his short hunt for the Allendale Wolf. In fact, 
  he’s managed to obliterate much of his memory of that night 
  with whisky, gin, and whatever else was to hand. He does still 
  remember a few harrowing points: first, that that the horrible 
  beasts did not seem even slightly injured by conventional 
  weaponry, and second, that the only thing that seemed to save 
  him that night was stumbling on two stone carved heads, which 
  he pushed and buried under the ground in a farmer’s field on 
  the outskirts of Hexham. He can direct the investigators there, 
  but will not go himself. He also recalls that the wolves only 
  seemed to come out at night and that they appeared ghostly 
  under the stars and moonlight. 
  Margaret Shane, the Hexham Witch
  A member of Hexham’s close-knit, upper-middle classes, 
  Margaret Shane lives at her parents’ expense in an annex of 
  their house in the centre of the town, and largely keeps herself 
  to herself. Without any real direction in life, she thinks of 
  herself as liberated, a free spirit. She spends most of her days 
  reading endlessly, writing terrible poetry, and dreaming of a 
  world in which her situation with her parents was reversed, 
  where she had the power to do whatever she wanted without 
  being questioned or stopped. It was partly her desire to free 
  herself from her parents’ bond that brought her to witchcraft. 
  Helpless to wrest herself from her parents’ control, she sought 
  out power of her own. Her stumbling pursuit of witchcraft and 
  black magic has led Margaret to few successes. For the most 
  part, she has squandered her time and her parents’ money on 
  pointless dabbling in the occult. As a result, her real magical 
  and Mythos knowledge is limited—she knows just enough to 
  be dangerous. Regardless, Margaret Shane fancies herself a 
  proper witch and has given herself the title of the “Hexham 
  Witch”. Margaret does indeed have a natural susceptibility 
  to magic, and a heightened sensitivity to the psychic world. 
  Wolves have run through her dreams as long as she can 
  remember. Possibly awakened through some ancient ancestry, 
  or perhaps as a result of her own clumsy dabblings with magic 
  of late, a mysterious psychic connection was established that 
  eventually led her to the barrow and the buried heads.
  Shane and McBride know each other in passing and share 
  some common interests. She takes as much of an interest in 
  local history as McBride, but where his preference is for social 
  Margaret Shane
  age 24, the Hexham Witch
  STR 11 
    DEX 11 
  INT 13 
  CON 10
  SIZ 10 
    APP 13 
  POW 12 
  EDU 14
  SAN 02 
   
  Hit Points: 11
  Damage Bonus: +0
  Skills: Archaeology 11%, Bargain 35%, Conceal 45%, Craft 
  (Jewellery) 15%, Credit Rating 45%, Cthulhu Mythos 02%, 
  Drive Automobile 05%, Fast Talk 45%, Hide 40%, History 
  50%, Library Use 55%, Occult 75%, Sneak 50%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 25%, 1D3+db
  Spells: 1D3 folk magic spells, or as the Keeper desires
  Appearance: Margaret Shane is a petite woman of 24 
  years with long, flowing brown hair and deep brown eyes. 
  She only wears long dresses that cover the arms completely. 
  She wears an old lace shawl—a gift from her grandmother—
  atop whatever dress she is wearing that day. In attitude, 
  Shane is full of contrasts and contradictions. She is mousy 
  and quiet on the one hand, but prone to sudden bursts of 
  animation and gregariousness on the other. She adopts a 
  façade of being carefree and disinterested in most of life’s 
  affairs, but beneath that façade, she desperately desires 
  power and control, and has an appetite for violence which 
  surprises even her. Her communion with the wolf spirits and 
  the delight she has taken from Timothy Leigh’s murder have 
  pushed her to the edge of madness. Shane now hangs on the 
  very precipice of insanity. 
  
  121
  history, her inclination leans far more towards the occult, the 
  strange, and the paranormal. The two have only been civil to 
  one another and, as a result, it would never occur to William 
  to suspect Margaret, or for her to suspect him of recruiting the 
  investigators.
  The hexham heads
  The two carven stone heads are extremely stylized representations 
  of men’s faces, each about the size of a large orange or a human 
  fist. Both heads are shaped with piercing, staring eyes standing 
  over a sculpted bearded face with an oddly sweeping neck. Both 
  of the stones can stand freely and, while obviously very old, 
  they are in surprisingly good condition for their age. The heads 
  can be scorched, scratched, and chipped, but seem otherwise 
  indestructible by ordinary means. To destroy them utterly would 
  take considerable pressure or explosive force (e.g. a stick 
  of dynamite each or placing them in a stone grinder or steel 
  press). The bonded magic upon the heads might be broken if the 
  investigators could discover a suitable magic spell.
  Any person possessing these stones is immune to the guardian 
  wolf spirits within and can learn to commune with the spirits and 
  ultimately to command them. The nature of the commands that 
  the guardian spirit can follow is limited: with the wolves’ souls 
  completely dominating the human soul trapped within, the spirit 
  guardian only truly responds to commands to kill or spare an 
  individual person. The spirit guardians become active every night 
  as the stars and moon rise above the horizon and remain active 
  until the sun rises the following dawn. They are normally dormant 
  throughout the day. A state of dormancy can also be achieved if 
  the carved heads are buried beneath the ground. They need not be 
  buried deeply or in any particular configuration, but must be deep 
  enough so that they are not exposed to moon or starlight. They 
  have to be buried in the earth itself: for example, burying them in 
  a box or chest full of dirt will have no effect. 
  The wilful, rebellious wolf souls ever seek to corrupt those around 
  them and even short-term exposure to the heads can be perilous. 
  The bearer of a head must wrestle with the spirits within nightly 
  (requiring a POW versus POW roll on the Resistance Table) or 
  the wolves’ subtle influence will worm its way into the bearer’s 
  mind. Each contest of wills costs the bearer one point of SAN. 
  Over time, as they have done with the original human soul, the 
  wolves will seek to drive the human bearer insane and insinuate 
  their collective will within him or her.
  William McBride, Local Historian
  McBride is an expert on local history and the author of 
  several poorly selling books on the Hexham area. Although 
  not wealthy, he lives comfortably and has enough money to 
  encourage the investigators to look into what is going on in the 
  town. He is not an expert in the occult and knows nothing of 
  the Mythos, but he does remember the commotion caused by 
  the previous sightings of the wolves in 1904 and 1905, and that 
  many at the time said that the beast was “unnatural”.
  William McBride
  Age 33, Local Historian
  STR 07 
  DEX 10 
  INT 15 
  CON 06
  SIZ 13 
  APP 13 
  POW 09 
  EDU 13
  SAN 40 
   
  Hit Points: 10
  Damage Bonus: +0
  Skills: Anthropology 31%, Archaeology 41%, Credit 
  Rating 35%, Drive Automobile 50%, Handgun 50%, 
  History 90%, Library Use 95%, Natural History 40%, 
  Occult 25%, Photography 50%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 35%, 1D3+db
  Spells: None
  Appearance: McBride is a gangly fellow who suffers 
  terribly from asthma. At the age of 33, he has lost 
  virtually all of his hair and has taken to wearing hats 
  to cover his bald head. With sparkling grey eyes and an 
  aquiline nose, he is attractive in his own way but has 
  absolutely no luck with women. While his severe asthma 
  does not stop him from doing the things he wishes to 
  do, it does prevent him from doing many things well. 
  He lives a somewhat lonely life with his magazines, 
  scientific papers, and research books, but he would be 
  the first to tell you that he is content with his lot.
  Chief Inspector Albert Googe
  Chief Inspector Googe runs Hexham’s police station and 
  its small complement of officers. He too is old enough to 
  remember the wolf panic of 1904-05, and is determined to 
  bag the animal this time without people becoming hysterical. 
  To that end, he has conspired with Hexham’s doctors and 
  the local undertaker, as well as the parish priest, to get the 
  dead man buried as quickly and quietly as possible, with the 
  minimum of fuss, in order to cover up the real cause of death. 
  Most of the police are in the know, at least the ones he trusts, 
  but he will resent any attempt on the part of the investigators 
  to inquire as to the cause of the man’s death, viewing them as 
  a potential information leak and, hence, the cause of another 
  mass panic.
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  122
  Folklore
  The Hexham Wolves, Ancient Celtic Spirit Guardians
  Although embodying a wolf-form, the spirit guardians are in 
  fact a collection of wolf souls and a single human male soul. 
  Over the centuries, however, the human souls have been 
  driven mad and grown quiescent, and now only the wolf 
  aspect remains.
  Spirit Guardians
  Ageless, Great Ghostly Wolves
  STR 25 
  DEX 15 
  INT 06 
  CON 11
  SIZ 10 
  APP – 
  POW 18 
  EDU –
  SAN – 
   
  Hit Points: 10
  Damage Bonus: +1D6
  Skills: Hide 40%, Tracking 30%
  Weapons: Bite 40%, damage 1D8+db, and the wolf’s 
  bite should be considered a magical attack
  Armour: 3-point thick hide and insubstantial form, and 
  the spirit guardian regenerates at a rate of 1HP per round
  Sanity Loss: 0 / 1D3 to see the ghostly spirit guardian 
  Appearance: These ancient wolf spirit guardians 
  take the form of loping, black beasts, considerably 
  larger than a normal wolf, with glowing orange eyes 
  and a massive, horribly fanged muzzle. They shimmer 
  and seem to ‘shift’ from moment to moment, normally 
  appearing solid but in some light looking ghostly or 
  insubstantial. They can slip in and out of this world and 
  the next at the command of whomever holds the carven 
  head into which they are bound. 
  Special Abilities: Soul Bound – The souls of both 
  wolf and man bound into the carved stone heads cannot 
  be killed as such in spirit guardian form. To free the souls, 
  the carved heads must be utterly destroyed. If the spirit 
  guardian is attacked and killed, its wolf-form will vanish 
  in shadows and mist, and the bound souls will return 
  to the carved head. Killed in this manner, the spirit 
  guardian cannot manifest again until the next evening, 
  when it will return unharmed in its original form.
  Chief Inspector Albert Googe
  age 43, Policeman
  STR 11 
  DEX 15 
  INT 13 
  CON 10
  SIZ 10 
  APP 07 
  POW 13 
  EDU 11
  SAN 50 
   
  Hit Points: 10
  Damage Bonus: +0
  Skills: Accounting 30%, Bargain 15%, Climb 50%, Dodge 
  40%, Drive Automobile 50%, Fast Talk 35%, First Aid 
  40%, Jump 35%, Law 45%, Listen 65%, Persuade 55%, 
  Psychology 45%, Spot Hidden 65%, Track 40%
  Weapons: Fist 60%, damage 1D3+db
  Grapple 55%, roll STR vs. STR on Resistance Table or be 
  immobilized
  Truncheon 65%, damage 1D6, Shotgun 50%, damage 4D6
  Spells: None
  Appearance: Thin, pale, and greasy, Albert Googe is an 
  unpleasant character to behold. At 43 years old, he has 
  reached a plateau in his career, but that suits him fine. 
  He is happy enough to hold his position as chief inspector 
  until retirement. Googe doesn’t like adventure and likes the 
  folks who bring adventure his way even less. A naturally 
  suspicious man, he is fond of interrogating people, even 
  during polite conversation. Were it not for his position, 
  Googe would likely find himself living a very lonely life.
  
  123
  Places of Interest
  Hexham
  Hexham is a market town in the north of England with a 
  population of a few thousand. It is notable for its abbey, located 
  inside rather than outside of the town, and its railway station, 
  a likely place for the investigators to arrive. Historically, given 
  its position on the Scottish borders, the town has frequently 
  been the target of raids or caught up in various battles, and 
  much of its history is bound to the ebb and flow of Scotland 
  to the north. The town is rather spacious, with well-spaced 
  buildings and significant parkland, the latter the site of the old 
  wolf pit and the ancient tribal settlement.
  The Wolf Pit
  The wolf pit is buried several metres beneath Hexham park, 
  capped with stone and containing the remains of twenty-eight 
  wolves, all killed sacrificially and mingled with the bones of 
  two men, killed the same way. The site has an intense magical 
  residue, such as might cause dousing rods to twitch, psychics 
  to feel a presence, or gates between worlds to be opened. 
  The Celtic Barrow
  The ancient Celtic barrow lies next to a small woodland copse 
  in Farmer Johnstone’s field on the western edge of Hexham. 
  Little more than a raised bit of ground to the casual eye, the 
  sunken barrow has been on this site for centuries unknown to 
  all. Currently one edge of the barrow is exposed as the farmer’s 
  plough and Margaret Shane’s trowel have turned up the black 
  earth. Shane did nothing to hide her ‘excavation’ and the site 
  shows several dug holes going down to depth of about two 
  feet. Hidden towards the centre of the upturned earth and 
  very near another of Shane’s dug holes is the second Hexham 
  head lying no more than three inches below the soil. It appears 
  little different from its brother stone and exhibits all the same 
  properties.
  Should the investigators maintain possession of the second 
  carved head, then come sunset the character holding the head 
  will be in for a great surprise. A psychic connection between 
  the bound wolf souls and the investigator will be established. 
  Characters unassociated with such connections will suffer the 
  loss of 0 / 1D2 points of Sanity. Additionally, the wolves will 
  secretly attempt to insinuate their will into the bearer (see 
  the Hexham Heads box above). A moment later the spirit 
  guardian in its wolf-form will appear before the character 
  (see associated SAN loss above). It will not, however, move to 
  attack. If any of the attending investigators succeed a POW x5 
  roll and an Idea roll, he or she will determine that the carved 
  head gives the bearer immunity from the spirit guardian and a 
  limited amount of control over the creature.
  Revelation
  From William Briddick’s account, it is clear that the only way 
  to deal with the wolf spirits is to bury the heads. He does not 
  realise that the heads themselves can be destroyed. Margaret 
  Shane has one of the heads in her possession and knows how 
  to manipulate it. She is unaware that there is a companion 
  head. Any attempts to retrieve the carved head from her will 
  be met with stern denial by day and likely with violence by 
  night. If she can, she will call up the spirit guardian whenever 
  threatened and command the ghostly wolf to attack.
  There are several routes the investigators might take to stop 
  Shane and her murderous rampage:
  • 
  they could distract Margaret, by making her send the wolf 
  spirit off on some errand of revenge, and then attempt to 
  get the carved head from her;
  • 
  one of the investigators could try winning her confidence 
  and then steal the stone;
  • 
  if they have succeeded in recovering the carved stone 
  head, they could find a way to destroy it, ridding Hexham 
  of the dangerous artefact;
  • 
  if the investigators intuit that a second carven head 
  is still buried out in the barrow, they could retrieve it 
  and potentially pit the second guardian against Shane’s 
  guardian; or,
  • 
  the investigators could keep one or both of the heads for 
  themselves as powerful tools against the Mythos, though 
  subjecting themselves to a nightly contest of wills and 
  SAN loss.
  Any public display or trouble will see the investigators 
  ostracized by the local forces of law and order, and possibly 
  arrested and imprisoned, even if they do manage to save the 
  town. Otherwise the police and the town will appreciate the 
  investigators’ success, if they know of it. McBride could be a 
  useful point of contact—if the investigators are successful—for 
  future adventures in the northern parts of England.
  Investigators who successfully retrieve the carved head from 
  Margaret Shane should be rewarded with 1D4 points of Sanity. 
  Burying one or both of the heads should result in a further 
  point of SAN gained whilst finding a way of successfully 
  destroying one or both heads should be rewarded with another 
  1D4 points of Sanity. For each of Shane’s victims lost, the 
  Keeper might choose to deduct a point of SAN. Lastly, if the 
  investigators destroy only one stone head and are aware that 
  Shane will undoubtedly seek out the other, that knowledge 
  should cost them 1D4 points of Sanity.
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  124
  Folklore
  - The Black Spring Gate -
  Intrigue
  Ogof Ffynnon Ddu (“Cave of the Black Spring” in English) is 
  a vast cave system located under a series of hills in the Upper 
  Swansea Valley near the small hamlet of Penwyllt. It also 
  contains one of the largest and most spectacular entrances to 
  Fairyland on the planet. As such, it is a site of great magical 
  power and mystical significance. Hidden far within the 1000 
  foot deep and 42 mile long cave network, the entrance has long 
  remained invisible to human eyes. Only a handful of locals are 
  even aware of the existence of the Ogof Ffynnon Ddu, much 
  less the entrance to Fairyland deep within.
  The fairies themselves are sworn never to give the secret of its 
  location to any human being or any other intelligent creature. 
  Thus, it came as a shock when a fairy prince, Gwynfor y 
  Tragwyddol Golau, arrived at the subterranean entrance in the 
  company of a powerful human sorcerer, Dr Donald Matheson. 
  Upon arriving at the entrance, Matheson unleashed a torrent 
  of Mythos magic, killing the fairy guards and, with Gwynfor’s 
  help, effectively closed the entrance to all fairy kind. Matheson 
  has since begun a series of profane sacrifices and eldritch magic 
  rites that will see the power of the fairy entrance corrupted 
  to act instead as an immense gate or window through which 
  Mythos entities may travel to our reality from domains and 
  dimensions far too horrible to imagine. 
  Just how the human sorcerer managed to ensnare and 
  ensorcel the fairy prince is unknown, but his sister Seren 
  y Tragwyddol Golau is desperate to find a way to free her 
  brother and undo what he and the sorcerer have done. With 
  that in mind, Seren travelled overland from the closest 
  entrance to Ogof Ffynnon Ddu to see what her brother and 
  this human wizard were doing. When she arrived she found 
  the entrance bathed in the blood of sacrifice and the human 
  enacting some dark ritual while her spellbound brother 
  protected him. With Gwynfor working against her, Seren was 
  unable to stop the human and his black magic continues to 
  twist and warp the fairy entrance.
  Growing desperate and fearing that either her brother will 
  be killed, the human will succeed, or both, Seren has devised 
  a bold plan to enlist humans of her own to deal with the 
  sorcerer while she deals with her brother. She has called upon 
  the seers and scryers of Fairyland to find men and women 
  nearby capable of helping her and has used her own powerful 
  glamours to bring them to her. Now she must convince them 
  to help her before the situation worsens.
  The Cave of the Black Spring 
  The Cave of the Black Spring, or Ogof Ffynnon Ddu in 
  Welsh, is the deepest and one of the largest cave systems 
  in Britain. It is virtually unknown in the 1920s and 
  won’t receive public attention for another twenty years 
  when Peter Harvey and Ian Nixon, then of the South 
  Wales Caving Club, make the first known forays into the 
  massive complex. Taken together, the depth and length 
  of the cave system make it remarkable and its intricate, 
  labyrinthine structure and numerous water-filled 
  passages make it more impressive still. The presence of 
  water allows the caves to host an impressive collection 
  of adaptive flora and fauna. The underground streams 
  are home to ghostly-white trout and tiny cave shrimp 
  while vast cracks in the hills and moorland above allow 
  sunlight to penetrate the gloom and provide habitats for 
  mosses, fungi, and even flowers such as lily of the valley.  
  The Ogof Ffynnon Ddu system is mostly cut from 
  limestone and coarse-grained sandstones beneath the 
  Brecon Beacons and roughly follows the course of the 
  Tawe Valley in South Wales. The environment of the 
  caves varies from eroded, water-smoothed limestone 
  to jagged outcroppings of granite and other stone. A 
  huge variety of stalactites and stalagmites are present, 
  forming spikes, columns, and curtains of calcite. Though 
  beautiful and often otherworldly, the complexity of the 
  cave system makes it extremely challenging to navigate. 
  The bones of many small animals can be found scattered 
  throughout the caves and serve as a potent reminder 
  that it can be extraordinarily difficult to find an exit 
  from the maze-like network of caverns.
  Keepers might wish to halve or quarter all Navigation 
  and Track rolls while in the Cave of the Black Spring.
  Introduction
  Returning from Sennybridge on a day trip through the 
  magnificent Brecon Beacons (“Bannau Brycheiniog” in Welsh), 
  the investigators’ car—their own or a rental from Swansea—rolls 
  to a stop where a section of the Brecon Road back to Swansea 
  has been washed away by the raging River Tawe, swollen from 
  the previous night’s rainfall. As the characters are unfolding 
  their maps, an old man walks up out of the forest at the side of 
  the road with his hunting hound. He kindly directs them back 
  up the Brecon Road, telling them to turn left at the vicarage a 
  
  125
  mile or two back and head up to the small Welsh hamlet of 
  Penwyllt. From Penwyllt, the investigators will be able to take 
  another small track that skirts along the hillside and meets 
  back up with the Brecon Road heading south near Pen-y-cae.
  As the investigators turn off the main road and travel up 
  through the hillside towards Penwyllt, their car begins to 
  protest as it climbs the steep grade. As they come into the 
  tiny hamlet itself, their car dies suddenly, rolling to a stop and 
  refusing all attempts to get it running again. Luckily they are 
  only a few hundred feet from an inn, the Dyn Gwyrdd (“Green 
  Man” in Welsh). The Dyn Gwyrdd is a particularly attractive 
  inn dressed in greens and golds against a backdrop of tall 
  conifers. With the hour growing late and a crack of thunder 
  sounding overhead, the investigators will have to choose 
  whether to abandon their car for the evening or to attempt 
  repairs in the dark. (If they choose the latter, they will have no 
  success as the car is being magically inhibited.)
  Inside the Dyn Gwyrdd, the atmosphere is bright and relaxing. 
  A fire in one corner of the great room is crackling brightly and 
  giving off a wonderful peaty smell. The unattended tables are 
  beautifully laid with gold-trimmed tableware, glassware, and 
  cutlery and sweet-smelling floral centrepieces. A few older 
  Welsh patrons sit at the bar, all brightly dressed in their 
  Sunday best and chattering happily amongst themselves. As 
  the door closes behind them, a very petite young woman walks 
  up to them and asks them if they would like to take a seat at 
  one of the tables.
  The young woman, who they might take for an exceptionally 
  beautiful barmaid or waitress, is in fact the fairy princess 
  Seren. The washed away road, the old man and his hunting 
  dog, and the Green Man Inn are all illusions created by Seren 
  to bring the investigators to her. When the investigators walk 
  into the Dyn Gwyrdd, they have in fact walked into a corner 
  of Fairyland that Seren has opened to them. If she cannot 
  convince the characters to help her, then she intends to force 
  them. If they eat the food she provides or sleep within this 
  small annex of Fairyland, they will be forever trapped, their 
  souls bound to that enchanted realm. Of course, she will 
  offer to end their entrapment if they will help her against her 
  brother and the sorcerer.
  Thus, she will not enlist their aid until they have either eaten 
  or slept within the Dyn Gwyrdd. If the characters will eat, 
  they will be provided whatever they wish—the “kitchens” can 
  produce any dish—and the food they are finally presented with 
  will be richer, sweeter, or more succulent than anything they 
  have ever eaten. If they will not eat, then Seren will offer them 
  rooms and again the quality of the accommodation and the 
  sleep that they enjoy will be truly out of this world. Once they 
  have eaten and / or slept, Seren will waste no time in making 
  her plea to the characters.
  She knows she is running out of time and will explain the 
  situation as clearly and honestly as she can. She is hoping that 
  the investigators will acquiesce to her request and that she will 
  not have to force them to aid her. She will be polite and frank, 
  knowing that these investigators have experienced situations 
  and events far outside the norm. If they require proof of her 
  otherworldliness, she will drop the glamour surrounding 
  her and appear before them in her true fairy form. Have the 
  players roll SAN for their characters as appropriate.
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  126
  Folklore
  If the investigators refuse to help or resist overly much, 
  Seren will resort to plan ‘B’ and force the players’ hands. As 
  diplomatically and apologetically as she can, she will explain 
  that she had little choice: the investigators were the only 
  humans close enough and experienced enough to provide 
  adequate help and now they must help her or they will never 
  see their homes and families again. This is certainly not the 
  course of action she hopes to take, but if it is necessary, then 
  so be it. Once the investigators have agreed to help her, they 
  will be allowed to retrieve anything they might have left in the 
  car and to ready themselves before she transports herself and 
  the characters to the fairy gate.
  Investigation
  Things do not go according to Seren’s plan right from the 
  start. Since her last intrusion—and, unbeknownst to her, other 
  intrusions by other powerful fairies—Matheson has thrown 
  up another defensive barrier blocking fairy folk from coming 
  within half a mile of the fairy entrance. Thus, Seren and the 
  investigators find themselves unceremoniously dumped not at 
  the fairy entrance but half a mile from it, in a preternaturally 
  dark void more than 800 feet underground. The transportation 
  into this seemingly alien environment costs the characters 
  0 / 1D2 points of Sanity. Luckily, however, the barrier does 
  not stop humans and so the investigators are able to progress 
  towards the entrance without the fairy princess. Seren is able 
  to pinpoint three magical wards that are preventing her and 
  all other fairy folk from reaching the entrance. She can direct 
  the investigators towards each one, but cannot divine the 
  route needed to reach the wards. The characters will have to 
  find their way themselves.
  Persons of Interest
  Seren y Tragwyddol Golau
  A princess of the Fairylands, Seren y Tragwyddol Golau is a 
  rare creature. Normally attending business at the fairy court, 
  Seren has been brought out of the fae realms by her brother’s 
  strange and dangerous actions. Where her brother is the more 
  intelligent and industrious of the two, Seren is more feeling, 
  more determined and, in many ways, more powerful than 
  her brother. She will not leave the human realm without her 
  brother, not if she can help it, and she is more than willing to 
  pull a few strings to see Gwynfor safely back home.
  Seren y Tragwyddol Golau
  Ageless, Fairy Princess
  STR 05 
  DEX 15 
  INT 16 
  CON 11
  SIZ 04 
  APP 20 
  POW 19 
  EDU –
  SAN – 
   
  Hit Points: 07
  Move: 5
  Damage Bonus: -1D6
  Skills: Sneak 60%, Spot Hidden 50%, and others as 
  the Keeper desires
  Weapons: Claws 35%, damage 1D6+db
  Small Blade 25%, damage 1D4
  Armour: None
  Spells: Dreamer’s Song (Send Dreams), Fae Blade 
  (Spectral Razor), Glamour, Heart’s Gift (Siren’s Song), 
  Remove Glamour (Unmask Demon), Stone’s Warning 
  (Warding), The Wandering Road (Fairyland Gate)
  Sanity Loss: 1 / 1D4 to see Seren in her true fairy form 
  Appearance: In her human glamour, Seren appears as 
  a diminutive but extraordinarily attractive woman in her 
  mid-twenties. With short, brunette hair and green eyes, 
  she is an image of loveliness, wrapped up in a simple 
  brown dress. In her true fairy form, Seren is small, 
  thin and possesses a truly otherworldly beauty. She 
  has striking light purple eyes and cascading chestnut-
  coloured hair. She dresses in an immaculately cut dress 
  of startling design in gold, green, amber, and apple-
  red. Her nose and ears are pointed, but not enough to 
  detract from her attractiveness. For her size, she has a 
  surprisingly resonant voice that is always musical.
  New Folk Magic Spell: Glamour
  By means of this spell, the caster can assume the likeness of 
  any person or creature as imagined by the caster. Glamours 
  are limited to a SIZ between ½ and 2x the caster’s original 
  SIZ. As the glamour is a product of the caster’s imagination, 
  the illusion is only as good as the imagined creation. Thus, 
  hastily created or poorly imagined glamours will lack detail, 
  appearing bland and lifeless or even incomplete, whereas 
  well-imagined glamours will appear utterly lifelike. Every 5 
  minutes devoted to the imagining strengthens the illusion 
  by 10 percentiles (e.g. a glamour imagined for 10 minutes 
  would only appear lifelike to 20% of people, whereas a 
  glamour imagined for 50 minutes would appear authentic 
  to 100% of observers, or virtually indistinguishable from 
  the real).  Each glamour costs 3 magic points and 1D3 
  points of Sanity, and lasts for 24 hours or until the illusion 
  is dismissed.
  
  127
  Gwynfor y Tragwyddol Golau
  Gwynfor y Tragwyddol Golau has been absent from the fairy 
  court for more than a month. However, unlike on previous 
  occasions, this absence has not been caused by an engrossing 
  tome, a fascinating bit of research, a game of cards, or a 
  professed broken heart. On this occasion, Gwynfor just 
  vanished, leaving the Fairylands and telling no one of his 
  destination or purpose. Perhaps it was one of his researched 
  spells or incantations that connected him to Dr Donald 
  Matheson—that allowed their minds to touch—but Gwynfor 
  could never have suspected the deviousness and power that 
  would be used against him. He knows nothing of his actions 
  since the connection to the doctor was established, the events 
  within Ogof Ffynnon Ddu, nor how cruelly he has been used. 
  Matheson controls him as a child controls a toy.
  Gwynfor y Tragwyddol Golau
  Ageless, Ensorcelled Fairy Prince
  STR 06 
  DEX 12 
  INT 17 
  CON 11
  SIZ 04 
  APP 19 
  POW 14 
  EDU –
  SAN – 
   
  Hit Points: 07
  Move: 5
  Damage Bonus: -1D6
  Skills: Sneak 60%, Spot Hidden 50%, and others as 
  the Keeper desires
  Weapons: Claws 35%, damage 1D6+db
  Small Blade 25%, damage 1D4
  Armour: None
  Spells: Dreamer’s Song (Send Dreams), Fae Blade 
  (Spectral Razor), Far Seeing (Create Scrying Window), 
  Glamour, Heart’s Gift (Siren’s Song), Remove Glamour 
  (Unmask Demon), Stone’s Warning (Warding), The 
  Wandering Road (Fairyland Gate)
  Sanity Loss: 1 / 1D4 to see Gwynfor in fairy form 
  Appearance: Gwynfor is roughly the same size and 
  stature as his sister, with the same pointed ears and nose. 
  He too bears a striking appearance that is enthralling to 
  humans. His hair is a creamy white, like blonde oak, and 
  his eyes are a piercing aquamarine colour flecked with 
  gold. While under Matheson’s control, Gwynfor does 
  not speak or emote, which is starkly different from his 
  usually energetic, loquacious, and charming demeanour.
  Doctor Donald Matheson
  Age 53, Sorcerer and Mythos Savant
  STR 09 
  DEX 09 
  INT 19 
  CON 10
  SIZ 10 
  APP 09 
  POW 19 
  EDU 18
  SAN 00 
   
  Hit Points: 10
  Damage Bonus: +0
  Skills: Anthropology 25%, Archaeology 22%, 
  Astronomy 34%, Conceal 40%, Cthulhu Mythos 23%, 
  Drive Automobile 60%, Fast Talk 45%, First Aid 21%, 
  Hide 26%, History 78%, Library Use 86%, Medicine 
  42%, Occult 87%, Persuade 50%, Psychology 55%, 
  Sneak 24%, Tracking 35%
  Weapons: Fist / Punch 40%, damage 1D3+db
  Spells: Augur, Bind Enemy, Bless Blade, Body Warping 
  of Gorgoroth, Brew Dream Drug, Brew Space Mead, Call 
  / Dismiss Yog-Sothoth, Cause / Cure Blindness, Cloud 
  Memory, Compel Flesh, Consume Likeness, Create 
  Gate, Create Scrying Window, Create Time Gate, Create 
  Window, Deflect Harm, Elder Sign, Enchant Knife, 
  Find Gate, Flesh Ward, Implant Suggestion, Imprison 
  Mind, Journey to the Other Side, Nightmare, Plutonian 
  Drug, Power Drain, Reach, Sense Life, Summon / Bind 
  Dimensional Shambler, and Unmask Demon 
  Appearance: Dr Donald Matheson is the epitome of 
  the mundane. He is the sort of man you might walk past 
  every day without noticing. Of middling height, slightly 
  balding, and wearing wire-frame glasses, Matheson 
  looks like a history teacher or an ageing accountant—in 
  fact, nothing in his dull, workaday appearance suggests 
  that he is a powerful sorcerer. Matheson is completely 
  mad and assured of his own ability to create the portal 
  and his invulnerability to virtually all attackers—
  human or Mythos. Though he is an extremely capable 
  spell-caster, Matheson is also just an ordinary human 
  being and quite fallible. He, however, believes himself 
  to be a near demi-god.
  Doctor Donald Matheson
  An especially powerful human sorcerer, Dr Donald Matheson 
  is a man obsessed with power, so obsessed that he is willing to 
  do virtually anything to increase his strength and his mastery 
  of the arcane arts. When one of Gwynfor’s more potent 
  experiments reached out from Fairyland and caught the 
  doctor’s attention, he had but to wait for the next opportunity 
  to ensnare the prince’s mind. Over the past month, Matheson 
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  128
  Folklore
  has learned much of the fae realm and of their peculiar 
  magics—enough finally to identify a source of power he could 
  exploit. Now with Gwynfor’s help, Matheson is corrupting the 
  fairy entrance to act as a portal to agencies and intelligences 
  far beyond his own, in the hope that he will be able to glean 
  their secrets and discover their powers for his own gain. Utterly 
  mad, he thinks nothing of his actions and their consequences, 
  seeing only profit in the venture.
  Places of Interest
  The Cave of the Black Spring
  Ogof Ffynnon Ddu presents Keepers with a subterranean 
  environment with almost limitless possibilities. Though this 
  small scenario places the investigators only half a mile from 
  the fairy entrance, Keepers could choose to create longer 
  scenarios with more numerous encounters in this fascinating 
  underworld. Between each ward (see below), the investigators 
  will need to roll a successful Navigation or Track roll, 
  otherwise they will find themselves lost, perhaps even circling 
  on themselves and finding Seren again. Keepers should take 
  care to ensure that this situation is building tension and not 
  creating too much frustration. At each ward, the characters 
  will find a unique challenge to overcome.
  The First Ward
  The investigators arrive in a massive chamber with a steeply 
  sloping floor. Rivulets of water run from the glistening walls 
  along the incline of the floor and drip into a large 10-foot wide 
  hole at the centre of the cavern. The stone floor here is slippery 
  with glassy calcite. The 10-foot hole drops down into an 
  impenetrable darkness beyond 50 feet. However, a successful 
  Spot Hidden roll reveals a chalk-like inscription—the first 
  ward—written into a dry recess a little over 10 feet down the 
  hole. A successful Cthulhu Mythos or Occult roll reveals this 
  to be a magical ward.
  If the investigators have rope, this might be quite a simple 
  challenge. The chalk-drawn ward needs only to be rubbed 
  away fully to break the enchantment. Without rope, this test 
  becomes more daunting. The point here is to build suspense 
  and challenge the players, not necessarily kill them outright. 
  If one of the investigators chooses to climb down, this requires 
  two successful Climb rolls (essentially to scale the near vertical 
  face of the hole itself). A failed roll requires a Luck roll to 
  grasp an available ledge and allow a further Climb attempt. If 
  the character fails Luck, he or she plunges headlong into the 
  darkness and is never seen again. 
  If the characters create a human chain or use any other Strength-
  based manoeuvre, test their STR appropriately. For example, 
  rolling under STR x10 will only test the weaker characters 
  on the way down, but rolling under STR x5 to bring people 
  back up will challenge everyone involved. Again, Luck rolls 
  can be used to give the investigators another chance and / or 
  the characters can choose to use Climb rolls to get out of the 
  hole. If Keepers would rather not have the investigators face 
  death at this point, Seren instead might transport the falling 
  characters back to her position. The shaken investigators 
  should roll SAN and suffer 0 / 1D2 losses for failure.
  The Second Ward
  On their way to the second ward, the players hear a rushing 
  torrent of water ahead of them. Turning into a new tunnel, 
  they can see that an underground stream has broken into this 
  tunnel. Moving forward requires that the investigators get 
  their feet wet, but when the tunnel angles down twelve feet a 
  greater threat appears. The only way forward is to swim down 
  through the black water flooding the tunnel. The distance they 
  must swim is unknown. In truth, the distance is only 20 feet but 
  it might as well be 400 feet from where the investigators are 
  standing in the knee-deep, cold water. No manner of natural or 
  electric light can be used beneath the surface of the water.
  The characters must roll under POW x 5 to force themselves 
  into the cold, black water. From this point a successful Swim 
  roll will see them past the danger. Characters who fail their 
  POW roll cannot advance unless they either roll under POW 
  x 3 to finally master themselves or one of the other characters 
  returns from having successfully swum the distance (requiring 
  this character to successfully roll Swim again). If characters 
  fail their Swim roll, they crash into the jagged tunnel wall 
  losing 1 hit point before the current deposits them on the other 
  shore.
  Re-igniting their torches or other light sources—perhaps 
  after having to dry them out—the investigators see the second 
  ward ahead on the tunnel wall. Again, rubbing the chalk away 
  completely destroys the magic of the ward. 
  The Third Ward
  The simplest of the wards, the third ward is encountered 
  just outside the huge cavern containing the fairy entrance. 
  The ward is plainly visible, but placed around it are a series 
  of drawn images that undulate and move in an entrancing 
  dance. The shapes twist and merge disturbingly suggesting 
  blasphemous and impossible situations and relationships. 
  The characters should roll SAN. Success means the characters 
  lose no Sanity points and can tear their eyes from the horrific, 
  swirling collage. Failure, however, means the characters lose 
  one point of Sanity and must roll SAN again. Further failures 
  incur the same penalty as the investigators are locked in a 
  cycle of terror.
  
  129
  Those who succeed against the horrific images can rub them 
  and the final ward from the limestone wall. If any characters 
  lose enough Sanity to go temporarily insane, there is a 25% 
  chance that they will scream, alerting Gwynfor and Donald 
  in the next chamber. Otherwise, Seren walks out from the 
  stone behind the ward, holding a finger to her lips, and greets 
  the characters. She alerts them that the fairy entrance, her 
  brother, and the human sorcerer are in the next cavern. 
  The Fairy Entrance / Mythos Gate
  The entrance to the Fairylands is a natural arch some 20 feet 
  wide and 15 feet high at the end of a massive limestone cavern 
  more than 200 feet long and 40 feet wide. A stone alcove sits 
  behind the arch, but when the entrance is active a field of 
  verdant green under a stunning, blue sky lies through the arch 
  and all of Fairyland beyond it. Currently, however, the arch 
  and the alcove behind are splashed with the blood of thirteen 
  human sacrifices.
  The bodies of the sacrifices lay clustered in a heap to the left 
  of the arch and just to the right of the bodies the sorcerer 
  Donald Matheson sits chanting, bloodstained and bedraggled, 
  in the centre of an arcane chalk circle. The chalk circle emits 
  a ghostly green light that casts dim shadows on the nearby 
  arch and pile of bodies. Some 10 feet ahead of the crouched 
  doctor is Gwynfor y Tragwyddol Golau, the ensnared prince 
  of Fairyland, standing silently staring into the darkness that 
  fills the cavern.
  The investigators enter into the large cavern from a tunnel 
  more than 150 feet from the fairy prince. Much of the massive 
  limestone cavern is filled with calcite columns, stalactites, 
  and stalagmites, providing good cover, should they use it. 
  Hide and Sneak percentiles are doubled in the gloom of the 
  underground hall. However, the low light also affects targeting 
  and firearms rolls are reduced by 25%. 
  Revelation
  When the investigators arrive, Matheson is less than 30 
  minutes from completing his sickening ritual that will forever 
  corrupt the fairy entrance and turn it into a portal for Mythos 
  creatures wishing entrance to this world. Should he succeed, 
  the investigators will suffer the loss of 1D10 Sanity points, 
  knowing that the open portal will allow Mythos entities to 
  pour into our reality. Stopping Matheson requires that the 
  characters first deal with Gwynfor, who is bound to protect 
  the sorcerer. Getting past the fairy prince requires that his 
  enchantment is broken, he is knocked unconscious, or he is 
  killed. Any of these conditions will allow the investigators to 
  attack Matheson.
  If attacked, Matheson will discontinue his ritual and, in great 
  frustration, turn upon the investigators. He will fight to the 
  death, believing himself to be more or less invulnerable. If he 
  is stopped or killed, the characters should receive 1D8 Sanity 
  points as a reward. If they managed to stop Matheson without 
  killing Gwynfor, the investigators should be rewarded an 
  additional 1D2 points of Sanity. With or without Gwynfor’s 
  help, if the rite has been stopped, Seren will begin reversing the 
  damage done to the fairy entrance. She will be extraordinarily 
  grateful to the investigators, particularly if her brother has 
  been saved. She can give them gold or other rewards, should 
  they wish, but Seren might be considerably more useful as an 
  occasional ally or informant against the Mythos.
  Folklore Mythos Threats
  
  130
  Folklore
  A
  Ahrmen 
  84
  (An) Alternative to Folk Magic 
  26
  Animal Ghosts 
  45
  Apparitions 
  45
  April 
  67
  April Fool’s Day / Fool’s Day 
  67
  (Mr) Asaph 
  84
  August 
  68
  August Fairs 
  68
  Autumnal (Vernal) Equinox 
  69
  B
  (Reverend Martin) Bailey, The Village Priest 
  78
  Barrows and Circles 
  80
  Beast Bane 
  25
  (The) Beast of Bodmin 
  77
   
  Intrigue 
  77
   
  Introduction 
  78
   
  Investigation 
  78
   
  Persons of Interest 
  78
   
  Places of Interest 
  79
   
  Revelation 
  80
  (The) Beast of Bodmin, Bound and Weakened Hound of 
  Tindalos 
  80
  Bel  
  61
  Belief Mechanics 
  26
  Beltane / Calan Mai 
  68
  Big Folk 
  35
  Big Folk, Generic Statistics 
  36
  Black Dogs 
  48
  Black Dogs, Generic Statistics 
  52
  Black Dogs, Temporally Bound Hounds of Tindalos 
  54
  (The) Black Spring Gate 
  124
   
  Intrigue 
  124
   
  Introduction 
  124
   
  Investigation 
  126
   
  Persons of Interest 
  126
   
  Places of Interest 
  128
   
  Revelation 
  129
  Blake Manor 
  85
  (Dorothea) Blake 
  84
  (Lord Simon) Blake 
  83
  Bodily Horrors 
  41
  Bodily Horrors, Generic Statistics 
  43
  Bodmin Gaol 
  79
  (The) Body Politic 
  102
   
  Intrigue 
  102
   
  Introduction 
  104
   
  Places of Interest 
  108
   
  Revelation 
  110
  Boldo Lovel 
  107
  Bonfire Night 
  69
  Borrowed Days 
  67
  (William) Briddick 
  120
  Brigit 
  61
  (Examples of) British Folk Medicine 
  27
  C
  Candlemas 
  67
  (Giles) Carnby 
  89
  (The) Cave of the Black Spring 
  124, 128
  (The) Celtic Barrow 
  123
  (The) Celtic Pantheon 
  61
  Cernunnos 
  61
  Chapel of St Thomas Becket 
  79
  Christmas Day 
  70
  Christmas Eve 
  70
  Chthonians 
  72
  Classification of Spirits 
  45
  Coldest Day / St. Hilary’s Feast Day 
  66
  Colours out of Space 
  72
  (The) Company of Wolves 
  116
   
  Intrigue 
  116
   
  Introduction 
  117
   
  Investigation 
  118
   
  Persons of Interest 
  120
   
  Places of Interest 
  123
   
  Revelation 
  123
  (The) Cool Room 
  109
  (“Honest” John) Cooper 
  89
  Cornwall County Asylum 
  80
  Coughing Bag 
  27
  Cthugha and Fire Vampires 
  73
  (Alan) Cullen 
  93
  Cure for The Shaking 
  27
   -Index-
  Folklore
  130
  
  131
  D
  Daghdha 
  61
  Daughters of the Sea 
  97
   
  Intrigue 
  97
   
  Introduction 
  98
   
  Investigation 
  99
   
  Persons of Interest 
  99
   
  Places of Interest 
  102
   
  Revelation 
  102
  December 
  70
  Deep Ones 
  73
  Derived Folk Magic Examples 
  23
  Derry Down Copse 
  95
  Devil’s Pact or Nyarlathotep’s Gift? 
  43
  Dholes 
  73
  (The) Divining 
  23
  Doctor Everest’s Fossil Collection 
  94
  Donn 
  61
  Dragons 
  58
  Dragons, Generic Statistics 
  60
  Durstan House 
  85
  E
  Elfland’s Blessing 
  23
  (Doctor Samuel) Everest 
  93
  F
  (The) Fairy Entrance / Mythos Gate 
  129
  Fairy Folk 
  29
  Fairy Folk, Generic Statistics 
  30
  Feast of St. Mary / Là Féill Moire 
  68
  February 
  67
  (Charles) Fields 
  89
  (A) Final Word on Using Folklore 
  20
  (Doctor George) Fintry 
  106
  Fintry and the Mi-go 
  105
  (Dr) Fintry’s Laboratory 
  108
  (Dr) Fintry’s Study 
  109
  (The) First Ward 
  128
  (The) Fishermen 
  99
  (The) Flying Polyp 
  95
  Folk Magic as Derivative Mythos Magic 
  22
  Folk Magic as Non-Mythos Magic 
  24
  Folk Medicine 
  27
  (A) Folklore Bestiary 
  29
  (What is) folklore? 
  10
  Folklore: A Closer Look 
  10
  Folklore Calendar 
  66
  Folklore in 1920s Britain 
  11
  Folklore is Behind the Story 
  15
  Folklore is External to the Story 
  15
  Folklore is Parallel to the Story 
  15
  Folklore is Part of the Story 
  15
  Folklore is the Story 
  16
  Folklore Mythos Threats 
  77
  (The) Folklore Year 
  66
  Fortean St. Mary Bourne 
  94
  Further Reading 
  8
  G
  (The) George Pub 
  95
  Ghosts and Spirits 
  45
  Ghosts and Spirits, Generic Statistics 
  48
  Ghost Light/Sign 
  45
  Ghouls 
  73
  Glaaki and his Undead Servants 
  73
  Gods’ Stride 
  23
  (Chief Inspector Albert) Googe 
  121
  Great Race of Yith 
  74
  (The) Guardian Spirits 
  119
  Gwynfor y Tragwyddol Golau 
  127
  H
  (The) Hafgufan 
  114
  Hallowe’en 
  69
  Harbingers 
  45
  Harriers of Yeth, Hounds of the Wild Hunt 
  64
  Harvest Day/Calling the Mare/Corn Dollies 
  69
  Haunters 
  45
  Head Over Heels 
  81
   
  Intrigue 
  81
   
  Introduction 
  82
   
  Investigation 
  82
   
  Persons of Interest 
  83
   
  Places of Interest 
  85
   
  Revelation 
  85
  Healing Balm 
  27
  Hexham 
  123
  (The) Hexham Heads 
  121
  (The) Hexham Wolves 
  122
  Hillside Field 
  95
  (The) Horned Man, Avatar of Nyarlathotep 
  62
  (The) Horror Out of Time 
  92
   
  Intrigue 
  92
   
  Introduction 
  92
   
  Investigation 
  92
   
  Persons of Interest 
  93
   
  Places of Interest 
  94
   
  Revelation 
  96
  Hunting Horrors 
  74
  Index
  
  132
  Folklore
  I
  Imbolc / St. Bride’s Day 
  67
  Insects from Shaggai 
  74
  Introduction 
  6
  J
  (Doctor Alasdair) Jacobi 
  108
  January 
  66
  July  
  68
  June 
  68
  K
  (Doctor Andrew) Kilbride 
  108
  King’s College Aberdeen 
  109
  L
  Lady Day 
  67
  Lammas/Calan Awst/Lúnasa/Lughnasad 
  68
  Leap Day / Year 
  67
  (The) Legalities of Body Snatching 
  103
  (The) Lifeboat-men 
  99
  Little Folk 
  32
  Little Folk, Generic Statistics 
  34
  Living Phantasms 
  45
  Lord Talbot Blake’s Codex 
  83
  Lugh 
  61
  M
  Magic-wielding Humans 
  37
  Magic-wielding Humans, Generic Statistics 
  38
  Manannan 
  61
  March 
  67
  Marischal College Aberdeen 
  108
  Martinmas/Old Hallowmas 
  69
  (Doctor Donald) Matheson 
  127
  May  
  68
  May Day / Garland Day 
  68
  (William) McBride, Local Historian 
  121
  Men of K’n-Yan 
  74
  (Reverend Kelby) Mervin 
  113
  Michaelmas Day/Goose Day 
  69
  (The) Mi-Go Tablets 
  110
  Mi-go, the Fungi from Yuggoth 
  74
  Mischief Night 
  69
  (Dunstan) Montgomery 
  100
  Morrigan 
  61
  Motivation 
  30, 31, 33, 36, 38, 41, 42, 47, 50, 
   
   
  56, 59, 62
  Mythos Connections 
  31, 32, 33, 37, 38, 41, 42, 
   
   
  47, 50, 57, 59, 62
  Mythos Entities to Consider 
  72
  (Folklore) Mythos Threats 
  77
  N
  New Folk Magic Spell: Glamour 
  126
  New Occupation: Folklorist 
  12
  New Spell: Bind Hound of Tindalos 
  52
  New Spell: Binding Bones 
  45
  New Spell: Bonds of the Black Dog 
  53
  New Spell: Create Noddy 
  106
  New Spell: Lure of the Deep 
  114
  New Spell: Nutrient Fluid 
  106
  New Spell: Summon / Bind Minion of Yeth 
  64
  New Spell: Summon the Wild Hunt 
  64
  New Year’s Day 
  66
  New Years’ Eve 
  70
  (The) Noddies 
  106
  Noddy 
  107
  (The) Noddy House 
  109
  Non-Mythos Folk Magic Examples 
  25
  November 
  69
  Nuckelavee, Powerful Hybrid Water Horse 
  57
  Nyarlathotep and the Servitors of the Outer Gods 
  74
  O
  October 
  69
  Oghma 
  61
  Old Michaelmas Day/Mop Fair 
  69
  Old Ones and Old Gods 
  72
  Omens and Bad Luck 
  70
  P
  Placement and Role 
  14
  Poltergeists 
  45
  R
  (The) Records Office 
  109
  Relationship to the Mythos 
  17
  (Ancestral or Degenerate) Relationship 
  19
  (Integral) Relationship 
  18
  (No) Relationship 
  17
  (Servitor) Relationship 
  18
  Role 
  16
  S
  Samhain/Hallowmas/All Saints Day 
  69
  Schedule of Dig Events 
  88
  (The) Screaming Skull 
  85
  Screaming Skulls, Possessed Crania 
  44
  Sea Folk 
  31
  
  133
  Sea Folk, Generic Statistics 
  32
  (The) Second Ward 
  128
  September 
  69
  Seren y Tragwyddol Golau 
  126
  Serpent People 
  75
  (The) Service of Owls 
  25
  (Margaret) Shane 
  120
  (Margaret) Shane’s Victims 
  118
  Shape-Shifters 
  38
  Shape Shifters, Generic Statistics 
  40
  (Emma) Sheldon 
  113
  (The) Sheldon Family 
  114
  Shub-Niggurath and the Dark Young 
  73
  (The) Smithy 
  95
  Special Variant: Possessed Screaming Skulls 
  43
  Special Variant: The Nuckelavee or Devil o’ the Sea 
  58
  Special Variant: Tindalosian Black Dog 
  51
  Spirit Guardians 
  122
  Spring Equinox 
  67
  St. Andrew’s Day 
  69
  St. David’s Day / Dydd Gŵyl Dewi 
  67
  St. George’s Day 
  67
  St. James’ Day / Grotto Day 
  68
  St. Luke’s Day 
  69
  St. Mary Bourne 
  94
  St. Patrick’s Day / Lá Fhéile Pádraig 
  67
  St. Swithin’s Day 
  68
  St. Tiburtis’ Day / Cuckoo Day 
  67
  St. Valentine’s Day 
  67
  (The) Stags and the Manacles 
  102
  Steed of Yeth, Mount of the Huntsman 
  63
  Strange Beast Spotted Again on  Bodmin Moor 
  49
  Summer Solstice/Midsummer/The Longest Day 
  68
  T
  (Jan) Tangye 
  79
  Taranis 
  61
  (The) Third Ward 
  128
  Tilbury Church 
  90
  Tilbury Hill 
  90
  (The) Tilbury Worm 
  91
  Todden Passage 
  102
  Trading in Death 
  82
  (The) Travellers 
  107
  (Colenso) Tregarthen 
  100
  (Mary) Tregarthen 
  101
  (Martin) Tunstall 
  113
  (The) Tunstall Family 
  114
  (Martin) Tunstall’s Hideaway 
  115
  Twelfth Night / Twelfthtide 
  66
  U
  (The) Unluckiest Day 
  66
  Unluckiest Day of the Year 
  70
  Unlucky Days of May 
  68
  Up Helly Aa 
  66
  Using Folklore in Call of Cthulhu Games 
  14
  Using Folk Magic in Call of Cthulhu Games 
  22
  V
  (The) Village Fête 
  115
  Visions 
  45
  Vitrified Stone 
  91
  W
  Walpurgis Night / Beltane Eve 
  68
  (The) Warricks 
  79
  Water Horses 
  55
  Water Horse, Generic Statistics 
  56
  Weather Witches 
  101
  Wedded to the Deep 
  110
   
  Intrigue 
  110
   
  Introduction 
  111
   
  Investigation 
  111
   
  Persons of Interest 
  113
   
  Places of Interest 
  115
   
  Revelation 
  116
  Whitsun / Summer’s Day (Old Beltane) 
  68
  (The) Wild Hunt 
  60
  Winter Solstice 
  70
  Winter’s Heart 
  25
  (The) Wolf Pit 
  123
  (The) Women 
  99
  (The) Writhing Hill 
  85
   
  Intrigue 
  85
   
  Introduction 
  87
   
  Investigation 
  87
   
  Persons of Interest 
  89
   
  Places of Interest 
  90
   
  Revelation 
  91
  Y
  (The) Yithian 
  79
  Yog-Sothoth  
  75
  Index
  
SOURCE: textdata/thevault/Call of Cthulhu (CoC) (BRP) [multi]/Cthulhu 1920s/Cthulhu Britannica (CoC 7e) (Cubicle 7)/CoC - 1920s - Cthulhu Britannica - Folklore.pdf