Changeling: the Dreaming is among the World of Darkness’ most imaginative games, and it has a great deal of color and depth to it. It is also — thanks in part to the publishers’ habit of using purple prose written from an IC perspective in places where a clear and grounded OOC explanation would be more helpful — sometimes confusing, sometimes self-contradictory, and sometimes both. This page exists both to help new Changeling players get up to speed with a game that can sometimes be challenging to wrap one’s head around, to provide clarity for experienced Changeling players on how we have chosen to interpret some elements of the game, and to offer non-Changeling players some insight on the game for those times when they interact with Changeling characters.

To be clear, we are not saying that we have the “right” interpretations. We think our interpretations are logical, sensible, and practical for the kind of game we’ve put together, but ultimately they are interpretations. You may feel differently; you may play the game differently in tabletop or LARP. We won’t try to convince you otherwise, but we do ask that you abide by these interpretations while playing on TowersMUX.

Chimera and Chimerical Quality

One of the core assumptions of Changeling as a game is the notion of chimerical quality — a secondary appearance, smell, taste, feel, or sound that some people, places, and things have, which are apparent only to the fae, the Enchanted, and a small number of other characters who have the ability to perceive them. The most obvious examples are the Kithain themselves, who appear to be ordinary mortals to those who lack this sight, but are faerie lords, troll knights, and so on to one another. A mortal child might pretend that a cardboard tube is really a mighty sword. To changelings, however, some cardboard tubes really are mighty swords, or at least have the chimerical quality of one. Such a weapon is called a chimerical sword (or axe, or what have you). A chimerical item can be almost anything — a drinking straw can be a chimerical stiletto, a stuffed toy can be a chimerical dragon, a bicycle can be a chimerical charger.

Kithain (and others, where appropriate) perceive both the mundane and the chimerical qualities of an item — though the more immersed they are in one world or the other, the more that world’s qualities are likely to dominate. A sidhe knight surrounded by mortals will still be able to see the chimerical sword as well as the mundane walking stick, but will tend to see it more as the latter. A group of Kithain in a freehold will hardly see the walking stick at all, being only peripherally aware that it is something besides a sword. Mortals perceive only the mundane qualities, and hence see a tense duel to the death between rival knights as nothing more than a couple of teenagers play-fighting with cardboard tubes. They won’t even notice a grave chimerical wound suffered as a result, although they might think one of teenagers is getting really into acting out a feigned injury.

Not all chimerical items have real-world equivalents; some (as well as some cantrips) are exclusively chimerical. Mortals generally do not perceive such items at all; the aforementioned sidhe knight riding through the park on a chimerical steed might appear as just an ordinary person running around like a Monty Python knight. Changeling isn’t always dignified! Nor is it always safe: riding around the park on a flying steed is very likely to trigger a backlash of Banality from mortal onlookers that will send its rider crashing (perhaps fatally) to the earth.

Occasionally, a Changeling may invoke the Wyrd, which has the effect of making their fae mien visible, and allowing all their associated chimera to affect the real world (a chimerical sword can injure non-fae opponents, for instance). Doing this may have serious IC consequences if mortals or other supernatural creatures are present, as it may violate the Changeling law known as the Escheat (see Changeling House Rules for more information).

Sometimes, the mundane and chimerical appearances of something may be at odds — to take an example from the book, imagine a troll whose mortal seeming is six feet tall, but whose fae mien is seven feet or more. What happens when the troll enters a tavern where the door is too low to accommodate his fae mien? The answer boils down to “it depends.” Most likely, fae onlookers see him duck under the lintel, while the mortal world perceives nothing strange. On the other hand, if the tavern itself has a chimerical appearance (most mortal locations do not), its doorway might well be plenty high enough, and therefore obviate the need to duck in either world.

The Dreaming

While chimera and fae miens are a bit like viewing our world through augmented reality, the Dreaming is a different world entirely. It’s best compared to the Umbra, a separate dimension that some knowledgeable people can journey to, but that will always present its own dangers and never be entirely understood by anyone other than its denizens.

Characters in the Dreaming are not visible to the mortal world, and vice versa, even via fae sight. Supernatural scrying abilities that are capable of looking between Otherworlds cannot generally be used to scry between the Autumn world and the Dreaming — scrying relies on a degree of constancy that the Dreaming doesn’t have.

For the most part, only the Kithain, the Kinain, the Enchanted and their chimerical companions will visit the Dreaming. It’s possible for other character types to do so, but the IC risks are severe. Entering the Dreaming alone, however — that is, without a Kithain or Kinain guide — is tantamount to a death sentence, or worse. Often much worse.

Banality

An oft-misunderstood concept, Banality in the context of Changeling is essentially the antithesis of imagination. Stagnation, monotony, and uniformity are telltale signs of Banality; anywhere creativity and wonder are stamped out in favor of a dull gray sameness, Banality flourishes.

Banality is not the same thing as “science” or “technology.” Scientists and inventors can be people of enormous creativity and imagination, and a mathematician’s elegant proof of a new theory can be just as inspiring and filled with wonder as a composer’s creation of a new symphony. Conversely, there’s nothing to say that art and music can’t be sources of Banality — an uninspired hack who spends their days cranking out elevator music or blandly corporate propaganda posters, and who does so without enthusiasm or individuality, will likely be a far more Banal person than average, despite technically being an “artist.”

Some supernatural creatures are more Banal than others. Technocratic magi are often extremely so; Fianna and Dreamspeakers may be less Banal than some Kithain. Vampires are a special case: while they may individually be more or less Banal, as static creatures who are locked into their current state for all eternity, their mere presence is uncomfortable and — for longer periods — actively dangerous to the fae. This is not to say that the two cannot interact — some Kithain even find that discomfort to be exciting in the same way many mortals enjoy being terrified by horror movies. But like moths to a flame, they must be careful how close they come lest they find themselves Undone.

Ultimately, what determines whether something is Banal or not is partly dependent on how one feels about it. The stereotype of a Banal mortal as someone grinding World of Warcraft endlessly and joylessly just to make the numbers go up is an accurate one, but that has more to do with how little it means to them. A small child playing the same game for the first time, wandering around Azeroth in wonder and thrilling to see their character finally take flight, could well be just the opposite.

Survival

In a similar manner to the way vampires need to avoid sunlight and regularly feed on human blood, Kithain need to avoid Banality and regularly gain Glamour. (Technically they can get by with just the former — but avoiding Banality often requires gaining Glamour, and things like casting Cantrips, invoking the Wyrd, enchanting mortals, and so forth all require expending Glamour.) Gain too much Banality and you’re Undone, your fae self permanently destroyed — a chimerical death from which you never recover.

Unfortunately, avoiding Banality in the London of the World of Darkness — an ultra-modern city teetering on the edge of dystopia — is almost impossible. The Core Rulebook (p. 174 and pp. 268-269) lists many of the common ways to run afoul of this plague, and the high ambient Banality of much of the city makes it almost inevitable that you’ll gain some sooner rather than later. What then? Is your character doomed to Undoing in the course of a few short months?

There’s a longer answer in the House Rules page, but the short answer is: no. You could tell a Changeling story that way — it’d certainly be poignant — but we want to emphasize long-term storytelling and character development. Characters are expected to be gaining and losing Banality in their offscreen time in a way that roughly equals out; the assumption is that they’ve found a relatively stable equilibrium. Banality that’s gained on-screen should be disposed of on-screen, but there are lots of ways to do that, and it’s intended to be an opportunity to find RP, not a punishment.

There are almost as many ways to lose Banality as there are to gain it, and that ebb and flow is an important part of the experience of the Game. What it’s not is a bludgeon for staff to use to eliminate characters from play. If we feel you aren’t playing by the spirit of the game, we may chat with you to help find an agreeable middle ground, but it’s our hope, and our expectation, that players are grown-up enough that that will be a rare occurrence.

The Mists

“The Mists” is a term with two separate meanings in Changeling. The most common usage refers to a kind of protective shroud enveloping the mortal world, conjured long ago by fae sorcery to separate the mortal (or Autumn) world from faerie. Over time, however, they’ve become stronger, and now not only prevent mortals from perceiving the fae — or at least cause them to rationalize away anything they do see — but also bar the Kithain from fully understanding or remembering their own fae selves. Changelings’ inability to recall all of their past lives or their own full grandeur is largely due to the presence of the Mists, as is their need to actively harvest Glamour rather than gathering it naturally.

Characters who are not Changelings, but who are somehow able to perceive the fae (through temporary Enchantment, a particular supernatural power, etc.) are unaffected by the Mists for as long as the effect granting them fae sight lasts. Once the effect fades, they will remember only as much as indicated by the right-hand column of the ‘The Mists’ table on p. 269 of the C20 Core Rulebook; approved characters can use the “+mists” command to see where they fall on the table. Characters who have IC reason to believe in the existence of the fae (e.g., Kiasyd vampires, Fellowship of Pan mages) will not suddenly lose this belief, but they will have difficulty remembering the details and specifics of their interactions with the fae. It’s a bit like waking up after a night of heavy drinking — you’ll know you did something, but you may not remember what.

Characters who are Enchanted (or otherwise granted fae sight) a second or third or fourth time will be able to remember some of the details of their previous experiences while the effect lasts, although their memories are unlikely to be exact. Still, unless a character acquires an innate and permanent method of seeing the fae, they will always eventually be subject to the Mists once its duration expires. Mortals were not meant to remember faerieland forever.

The other meaning of “The Mists” refers to a similar effect governing what happens to mortals (or other supernatural creatures) who enter or leave the Dreaming, and is covered by the tables on p. 303 and 304. The +mists command will also provide information on its effects for a particular character.