Saturday, 7 June 2014

The Gentle People

Print Friendly Version of this pagePrint Get a PDF version of this webpagePDF Tricksy and whimsy folkf of the wildes and glens to betrixt anf fefoul yourre players:

Peggles Tickeyboo:

A grinning old womans head with a pair of goat legs. She will greet travellers at a crossroad or a lightning split elm with the refrain "sing how ye feel and I'll dance ye a reel"
She will then dance a gleeful dance and also reward particular fine singers with the gift of songbirds bursting from their mouths everytime they sing. Someone who si:ngs mockingly will be rewarded with shitting a goose

A orange man with a very wide face. Will come to weary parents and offer to lull the quarrelsome child . If the parent accepts he will sew the childs mouth shut. If the stitching is removed Hob-Hush-Don't-Cry will angrily appear and demand the parent pay a price for ruining his fine work and give them his mouse brides impossibly dainty  dress to fix. Otherwise he and his dozen mouse sons will pinch and worry the child endlessly.

The Gley:
A very big cow with big saucer eyes that follows travellers at night treading silently on the tops of trees. If you make direct eye contact it will let out a frightful howl and disappear. Travel that night will take 3 times as long with 3 times the troubles but your sons and daughters will have moderate success as sailors.

Wrinkle Bag:
Small wee fellows so wrinkly and saggy that their eyes are lost in their folds and crevices. They finds their way good still by sniffing and huffing everywhere and holding his brow up on occasion like a oafsome fringe.
Small bands of them will ruffle through unminded possessions looking for cheese. If there is no cheese they will furiously piss on whatever food and finements there is. IF the people so bedeviled later complain about the food they will throw hornets nests down on them from trees.

The ChildEater:
A wicked woman with long long arms and long long legs and wild fierce hair. Eats up wayward children in 3 tidy bites.


  1. Wrinkle bags make me so damn happy. Piss isn't mentioned often enough in the Monster Manual.

    Neither are bees.

  2. Thanks for the beautiful. It pleases me to see that some of you folks are still doing wonderful things with your wonderful brains. I particularly like the Gley. I am currently trying to write a fairly large adventure featuring fairly similar kinds of entities.

    I like the idea (that occurs to me from thinking about Hob-Hush-Don't-Cry) that our own post-Neolithic stratified culture-spectrum which goes from slave to emperor with all kinds of bewildering taxa of artisans and religious officials et cetera ad nauseam in between is just one little local area of something that extends invisibly in all directions. We are so inculcated with the idea of human entities existing within an order of things and coercive reinforcement of the structures it becomes natural to assume there are hidden strata of others with progressively more fucked-up customs and values that they must maintain.

    Once when I took shrooms I saw the notion of Deity as a burning chimerical angel mountain of towering immensity beyond comprehension. Of course it was just a clever visualisation of the architecture of my consciousness but I think it was a clue to how dimorphism and above-below power relationships get extrapolated.