London is a dangerous temptation for the fae — a place with pockets of immense creativity, imagination, and inspiration that is also home to some of the most Banal people and places any changeling is likely to ever encounter. For some it’s easier than for others, but anyone who hopes to last long without being Undone must find a balance between staying close to the “safe” areas of the city and the overharvested sources of Glamour that can be found there, and venturing out to seek and cultivate newer and richer — yet riskier — opportunities.
Kith Types
- Common Kiths: Boggans, Clurichauns, Eshu, Nockers, Piskies, Pooka, Redcaps, Satyrs, Selkies, Arcadian and Autumn Sidhe, Sluagh, and Trolls are considered common kiths.
- Uncommon Kiths: Korred and Wichtel are considered uncommon kiths.
- Rare Kiths: Ghille Dhu and River Hags are considered rare kiths.
Boggans
The stereotype of the boggan as good-hearted, hard-working, and humble owes much to the national myth of the English working class — the same rosy myths that informed J. R. R. Tolkien’s concept of hobbits. When it comes to boggans, the myth is not an enormous distance from the reality — even in the most crowded parts of the city, they continue to carve out niches for themselves that echo the old ideas. Some work in hospitality, ensuring that small hotels or bed-and-breakfasts are always ready to welcome guests (the larger hotels are generally not welcoming to their brand of “help”); others mix drinks at cozy neighborhood bars or prepare delicious meals at hole-in-the-wall restaurants; still others work in construction or maintenance. Unseelie boggans are rare, but they do exist, and they often exact a disproportionately high price for their work; then again, there’s no shortage of mortals or Kithain in London who are willing to overpay for excellence.
Clurichauns
Please read this entry, and the entry in Changeling House Rules, carefully. While they are mechanically similar, clurichauns on TowersMUX differ significantly from the version found in the C20 Core Rulebook.
In every part of the world you’ll find people who know how to make things happen without being obvious about it. Sometimes you need more than that: the man who can arrange for the police to find evidence of a potentially career-making case so they’ll lay off hassling a truculent redcap. The smart young woman who’ll get the university registrar called out of the office on a trumped-up emergency, then slip in and make a few unauthorized changes. The art dealer who knows exactly how what sort of piece will tempt a mortal collector into blowing his budget so the local fae baron can get what she wants for a reasonable price. In kithain society, these agents provacateurs et provocateuses are known as clurichauns.
Their methods vary as widely as they themselves. Some specialize in creating big, loud, attention-getting distractions; some prefer to work so subtly that it’s hard to tell they did anything at all. They range from business-suited sharks to rough-and-tumble brawlers to social-media impresarios who specialize in flash mobs, but whatever means they pick, they can cause a fuss, get things done, and get away clean … or at least get away. They’re not always trusted among the fae, since it’s impossible to ever be certain that you aren’t unwittingly taking part in a clurichaun’s plans. But they’re very good to have around when you need one.
London has been particularly welcoming to them in recent years — at least unofficially. Not only are the two rival counties to the north and south of the river eager to make themselves look better at one another’s expense, but the many smaller freeholds making up each county are themselves deeply enmeshed in their own smaller rivalries, and one never knows when one might need someone around who can ensure that an enemy’s banquet ends in disaster, without any evidence as to the perpetrator. Of course, there are many ways to find evidence, and so, while the more daring and skillful of the clurichaun can be invaluable one day, they may be a liability the next. It makes for a fraught existence, and constant change among those of the kith who call the city home. Then again, how many changelings can call themselves truly secure?
Eshu
Despite their inveterate wanderlust, a good number of eshu make London their home — the city is both large enough and diverse enough that quite a few of the kith can be quite satisfied just by wandering its thirty-two boroughs. And when that doesn’t satisfy, the countryside is just a relatively short drive away. Between their gift for being in the right place at the right time, and their talent with words and storytelling, there’s always work for them in the Autumn world’s news agencies if they wish it. In the Dreaming, even the more traditionalist fae place a high value on the roles of storyteller and messenger, and an eshu who knows when to speak and when to be silent can count on finding a place in even the stodgiest of freeholds. Thanks to Britain’s long entanglements in the areas where their mortal ties are strongest — Africa, the Middle East, and India — the eshu are also among the most diverse of London’s fae, with some having come from nearly half a world away.
Ghille Dhu
Increasingly rare throughout the British Isles, the ghille dhu are almost unknown in the greater London area. They are deeply uncomfortable in the built-up portions of the city, and their unique life cycle means that even more than most kiths, they shy away from even a hint of Banality. There may be a handful hidden deep within the few remaining tracts of woodland in or near London, but only in the most extraordinary circumstances do they emerge for long enough to interact with Kithain society as a whole. Because of their unusual game mechanics and the challenges inherent in playing one, please speak with staff before applying for a ghille dhu character.
Korred
Secretive and knowledgeable, these lorekeepers of the Kithain have a surprisingly significant presence in the city. Although many of London’s great libraries and museums are under the control of Prodigals — often the most banal and dangerous of them — the korred dedication to uncovering lost and forgotten lore is such that they’ll brave the chill of Banality to do so … when they must, anyway. Although never numerous, their dedication to the secrets of the past has made them valuable advisors to the more traditionalist of the London fae, and even those who have a modern outlook recognize the value of their work. Unfortunately, their preferred roles in the Autumn world — lawyers, judges, historians, and so on — often lead them to need frequent respites from city life in order to avoid accumulating too much Banality.
Nockers
The steam age was the heyday of Nockers in England, and some of the great works that they created during that era are still in operation despite their flaws. They are one of the kiths that has suffered most since the return of the sidhe, as the latter are not particularly given to patience with imperfections, however minor, and are more inclined to wait a bit longer for boggan work than put up with anything less than the very best. The nockers’ talents are too useful to be entirely brushed aside, but, particularly in an era when any spectacular failure can be quickly and easily shared across the globe, they are being pushed to ever-greater lengths to try and make their creations perfect. They never quite succeed, but they keep trying.
Piskies
Much like the eshu, piskies have enough space in the city and its liminal areas to satisfy their wanderlust — some of them, at least. Their adventurous natures, and especially their ability to travel widely incognito, make them highly sought after as emissaries and agents in a place like London, where freeholders are constantly jousting for favor and influence, and where the rivalry between Seelie and Unseelie is on full display. That they aren’t entirely trusted by their employers means they sometimes have to move in a hurry, in order to get out of reach of someone who feels betrayed or just don’t like loose ends — but with allies constantly becoming enemies and vice versa, it usually doesn’t take long for even the most badly slighted fae to have bigger fish to fry. Usually — but not always.
Pooka
London might seem like a paradise for pooka, its vast population and constant stream of tourists providing a never-ending pool of targets for their trademark pranks, jokes, cons, and hijinks. That’s true, as far as it goes, but London also has its own perils that make it somewhat less paradisical. In the Autumn world it’s a place where uncomfortable levels of Banality are dismayingly common, where the sort of unhappiness and suffering that they hate are constantly needling at their contentedness. And the faerie world has its own perils. The nobility of Boadicea’s Tomb give them reasonable leeway in recognition of their historic role as jesters, fools, and tellers of uncomfortable truths, but “reasonable leeway” is not comforting to a kith that loves to color outside the lines. The Fallen Castle doesn’t usually care who they prank or how painfully, but they also don’t usually care if the victim decides to take revenge, making life in south London a constant tightrope walk.
Redcaps
The Autumn world of the 21st century has not been particularly kind to the redcaps. Ever-stricter laws on the sort of casual violence that they enjoy, a society more and more concerned with not giving offense, and omnipresent surveillance that makes it difficult for these transgressions to go unnoticed — it’s a hard life for a redcap in London. Even football hooliganism, that reliable outlet for the need for a good punch-up, is on the decline. But all is not lost. The fewer people there are willing to take on a job, the better the pay, and while a redcap may have difficulty finding work — particularly if they haven’t yet earned a reputation as trustworthy and discreet — they’re highly valued once they do. The County of the Fallen Castle in southern London is a particular hotspot given its often rough-and-tumble politics, and while navigating those pitfalls can be dangerous, a savvy redcap will never lack for action.
River Hags
While the river everyone thinks of when they think of London is the Thames — and there are several hags who make it their home at various points — the reality is more complex: there’s a vast webwork of buried waterways throughout the city, most of which have, at various points in the past, been suitable habitats. It’s true that the underground rivers are generally foul, and also that access to them is less than convenient, but, by the same token, they also ensure that the hags who reside in them go mostly undisturbed. Which is exactly how they like it. Their participation in Kithain politics, or even Kithain society in general, is minimal, but every so often a particularly social (for a hag, at least) member of the kith makes herself known to the world above. It is usually an uneasy experience for both sides.
Satyrs
There are still a handful of older satyrs who remember the glory days of Swinging London and the wild passions it inspired. Since then the pendulum has swung wildly back and forth with each generation, resulting in sharp divides among the kith that sometimes defy immediate understanding. The most influential and powerful satyrs, whose formative years were the Thatcherite ’80s and the gray ’90s, have more in common with the twentysomethings who endured the aftermath of the 2008 financial crisis than they do with the Cool Britannia generation in between — warier, more cautious, less inclined to give in to complete abandon, more ant than grasshopper (for a satyr, at least). Those who grew up in the Noughties, in turn, see more of themselves in the optimism of the very youngest than they do in those who immediately preceded or followed them. The kith’s member all follow their passions, but in distinctly different ways — a satyr-hosted social event in London is at least as likely to be an exploration of melancholy and loss as it is a night of wild reveling.
Selkies
The seal-folk are not common inland, and the current state of the Thames is no great encouragement to them. It’s better than it was, yes, but it’s still nothing any sensible person would want to swim in. Selkies in the London area almost universally live in one of the outlying boroughs of the east side, in order to make the trip to the ocean as short as possible — even Havering is still a half-hour’s drive to the sea and another half-hour back, and that’s assuming traffic is agreeable. This tends to lead to members of this kith being in one of two categories. One is those who live in Outer London, swim in the ocean often, are minimally involved in County or Duchy society, and are generally happier and more comfortable. The other is those who live in Central London, get out to the seashore infrequently, play some role in Kithain politics and society, and are — as a rule — more short-tempered and irritable.
Arcadian Sidhe
To the returned sidhe, London is simultaneously a relief and a nagging irritant. Boadicea’s Tomb in north London, in particular, is as close as most of them will get to the recreation of Arcadia on Earth that so many of them pursue avidly: a place where things are done just like they remember them, where the nobility are given the respect they deserve and the balance of power is tilted drastically in favor of them and their Autumn cousins. It’s deeply satisfying, even if the Unseelie mutter about how they’d handle things differently. At the same time, the city is also a place where people and places of intense Banality are distressingly common, and the Arcadian sidhe are more sensitive to them than almost any other fae. When added to the rising tensions that the more farsighted among them can clearly see will lead to a reckoning, it makes for a mood among the kith of waltzing beneath the sword of Damocles. One day — perhaps one day very soon — it will fall.
Autumn Sidhe
Caught between a rock and a hard place, the Autumn sidhe are not entirely comfortable with either their Arcadian cousins or with the other kiths that have adopted the Changeling Way. The latter have suspected, ever since the Resurgence, that both sorts of sidhe are somehow conspiring against them, and it’s not uncommon for the Autumn sidhe’s long centuries alongside them to be recast as some sort of Machiavellian ploy to weaken them from the inside. The Arcadian sidhe, on the other hand, are often reluctant to treat their cousins as equals, and find the idea of having to work to deserve authority laughably naive. Both of these attitudes frustrate — and sometimes infuriate — Autumn sidhe, who very often have worked as hard or harder than any other Changelings and take offense at such slights. Their sense of responsibility keeps from from simply going their own way, but Kithain society is a constant struggle for them.
Sluagh
London is about as congenial as a city can be to the sluagh. The endless twisting tunnels of Subterranean London make for an endless dark wonderland of forgotten secrets, hidden treasures, and dangerous lore, and the sluagh take full advantage. They’re some of the underworld’s most dedicated explorers, prowling through the underworld cautiously but persistently, taking the occasional loss of one of their number in stride as an occupational hazard. On the surface, the city is crammed full with the sort of crumbling old houses the adore, and there are enough little shops selling antiques, vintage books, and the like to keep an army of sluagh busy for a lifetime. While some do involve themselves with Kithain politics — secrets, after all, are always valuable to the right person — the majority of London sluagh live up to their reclusive stereotype. Most of their cousins are happy to keep their underworld expeditions as once-in-a-while things, finding the sunlit world more congenial.
Trolls
If it weren’t for Britain’s trolls, the Kingdom of Roses would likely have collapsed into civil war a long time ago; that it hasn’t is perhaps their greatest triumph. And yet, less honorable but more politically astute fae have pointed out that if it weren’t for that same uncompromising, unbending honor, the Kingdom of Roses might well have had a new monarch a long time ago. The trolls don’t like to hear that, but there’s some truth in it; their stubborn dedication to honor and to sometimes-conflicting loyalties have been an obstacle to more realpolitik solutions. To the trolls, a new ruler who wasn’t selected through a fair process that reflects what the realm aspires to be would be worse than no ruler at all … but as freeholds slowly descend into squabbling and feuds that no one really has the authority to stop, tensions between nobles and commoners worsen, and the regency council finds ever more ways to circumscribe Lord Edgar’s powers, even some trolls are beginning to question the status quo.
Wichtel
During the Steam Age, the wichtel and their gift for finding coal — among other things — were in great demand in Britain. Now, though, there’s little mining still going on in the British Isles, and even manual labor is in decline with the ongoing shift to the information economy. They aren’t by any means unwelcome; a hard worker can always find something to occupy them, and some of the more enterprising members of this kith have made the shift to assisting archaeological expeditions, but their rough edges often lead both mortals and other fae to pass them by in favor of some less gifted, but more easygoing, substitute.