We were the Children of Spring.
And when life sprang froth from the barren cradle of the old world we were the first beside it. Our bodies were leaf, wood, grass and fern. And we lived together with the slow daemons of the earth, the shape-spirits that called themselves Morr’d, and all was well, for they shaped the earth, and we lived upon it. And we tended the fields and the forests and ensured there was harmony and room for all to thrive. And it was good.
And when fast, red life emerged from slow, green life we were beside it. And to tend and cull this hot, fast life we needed new bodies. So it was we shed our bodies of leaf and wood and grass and fern and made ourselves new bodies of chitin, flesh, bone and hide. And the slow daemons did see us and tried to paint their designs upon our minds, but they could not, no more then a sculptor can chisel a shape in water. And we tended the beasts and the birds and ensured there was harmony. And this tending was called hunting, and it brought us much joy. And it was good.
And when Man emerged from fast, red life we were beside it. And to tend this Human life we needed new bodies. So it was we shed our bodies of chitin, flesh, bone and hide and took on the shapes of our quarry, but better in every way; Graceful, lithe, untouched by sickness or the ravages of old age. And the slow daemons did start to notice this new life but we did not see, for the ways of slow daemons are the ways of patience and foresight, and of this we knew nothing. And we hunted Man to ensure they did not take overmuch from the beasts and the birds and the fields and ensured there was harmony. And it was good.
We were the Children of Summer.
And when the slow daemons did paint upon man’s rigid mind their designs of cities and stonework and iron we were beside it. And for a time we culled them, but arrows and claws are no good against forged iron. So it was we used Sorcery, for the ways of the world were clear to our senses, and our glamours and charms brought them low where claws and arrows could not. But man was many and we were few, and in time, we could no longer hunt them the way we could once. And so we sought to teach them song and dance and poetry and sorcery to erase the designs of the slow daemons. And they were happy and we were friends and lovers. And it was good.
And when the cities took too much of the forest and the life and the birds we were beside it. And we dwindled gracefully then, but we were content. For the etchings of slow daemons did not rule over them as they once did. And they prayed to the creatures of their dreams and these were called Gods and they were the most important thing in their lives even though they were not real at first. We lacked foresight and strength and hatred then but we were creatures of passion and whimsey so these things came not easy to us. And as we dwindled Man confused us with their Dreams and forgot about us. And so they prayed to the sky and shed their blood upon a barren soil and we watched from afar, content and oblivious. And it was good.
And when the slow daemons did plant within the minds of one race of men, called Tzyan, the designs of their messiah-weapon we did not see. And they made war upon their Gods and killed them with this weapon and the sky burned and the earth wept and they tore a hole in the tapestry of sorcery. And though they burned quick, we burned slow, for the radiations of this hole they call Tempest were poison to us. And we could not undo what they had done, for they were more adept at Sorcery, being driven where we were whimsical. And so we died slowly as the world twisted and the birds and the beasts and the trees became distorted and sick and wrong. And the Slow-Daemon God stood upon a molten plain and painted his shape across the world. And it was not good.
And so it was that we went to the last great forests, now called Gyrr, and brooded long and brooded hard whilst our bodies withered. And if we were to live we had to change. And if we were to live and the world was to live man had to perish, though this resolution caused us great hardship for a time. And so too did the Slow Daemons have to perish and be erased from the world. Thus we cast off the bodies of our quarry and took on new shapes of shadow and dead matter. And we learned the ways of poison and disease, fear and all things we had once abhorred. And we cried when we beheld our new shapes for they were hideous to our eyes. But we felt no longer the burning light of the Tempest, so we knew it was good. And so we roam the jungles and hunt man, by day and by night, in dreams and the waking world. And we will hunt him for an age and a day until he is no more. We will hunt him in his jungles, his cities, his dreams and his imaginings. We rot his houses and poison his fields. We make servants of his corpses and bring poxes on his children. We slay him and the birds and the beasts that he enslaves.
We are the Children of Autumn.
And it is good.
AC: as plate(3)
Attacks: 2(claw/claw 1d6/1d6 save vs poison at +2 or lose temporary con per hour until healed or dead. con returns at rate of 1 per day)
Movement: Twice unarmoured man.
Hide in shadows/move silently 80%. Backstab for triple damage.
Cause Disease by touch. Blight area of ground 100 ft radius 1/day. Destroy 3 cubic metres of inorganic matter 1/day by touch.
Animate dead 3/day.
Create illusion(no touch component) 3/day. Cause Fear 1/day.
Immune to sleep, charm and mental domination