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Ch an geling: Th e Night m are

Game: Changeling: The Dreaming by Chuck Wendig This is the third in the Trilogy of ELN supported apocryphal interpretations of Changeling: The Dreaming. This is our Hunter Editor, Chucks vision. Its suitably depraved and dark. We hope you like it. My Intentions Welcome to Changeling: Nightmare, my manifesto on all the stuff about Changeling that should be changed, or just should've been jolly well different from the beginning. It's not that the current version is not without merit -- it's just that to get to the shiny gems of wonder, there's a morass of hip-deep crap you have to wade through. So, I'm going to posit some changes. "Duct Tape for the Dreaming," if you will. Take it or leave it -- whether you see it as bullshit or the Bible, I hope you'll glean some use from it. Official Disclaimer This document is intended as a free Internet supplement for the Changeling: The Dreaming role-playing game. Changeling: The Dreaming and all references to aspects of it are trademarks of White Wolf, Inc. The mention of or reference to any company or product in these pages is not a challenge to the trademark or copyright concerned. This article is intended to expand upon and supplement the existing and upcoming Changeling: The Dreaming books published by White Wolf Game Studios, and is not a replacement. Mood

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All right, lets just clear some things up right now. This game is set in the Never So Simple Vermin World of Darkness. Not the World of Cotton Candy, not the Realm of Chapter Three: Wind and Wonderful Otters. The World of Darkness. Gothic-Punk madness. Dark Water Chapter Two: Shanghai cities, labyrinthine avenues, shadowy forests where things with green Cityscape eyes want to eat your head you get the general idea. The book, Chapter One: Shanghais Changeling, does not set up the appropriate mood. The book would have Shattered Past you to think that Changeling is the stuff of faery tales, the world of whimsy. Yeah. Right. Have you ever read the Brothers Grimm faery Sy ndica te tales? Theyre not happy. Nor are they go-lucky. Theyre dark, and Atom RSS 2.0 f**ked-up, and will give you consummate nightmares. For good examples of the Merry-Go-Round that should not be the World of Darkness, view Join our Ma iling L ist Changeling (2nd edition) pp32-41. Notice that the general explanations and drawings reflect not a World of Darkness, but instead a World of Disney. Happy bears with paintbrushes and timepieces, la dee da. No. Its not like that. Were going to take you through the madness that is SUBMI T Changeling. No, it will not be as dark and disturbing as the other games, and will likely remain the lightest. But were still shading this bad puppy

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in, lending shadows where there were none before. So, my crazy little Glamour-swilling apes, turn off the lights and get ready for a ride into the H a v e You R e a d? chaos that is The Dreaming. Insert brazen laughter here. The New History of the Fae See, the history of the fae is weak. Besides the purely white-washed description of "Oh, theres changelings and whoops! Now theres a Sundering and now theres a Resurgence and whee! The nobilitys back! Have fun!" theres also a distinct and utter lack of conflict. While the original game delivers conflict, it also quickly solves the conflict in short order, tying it up nice and neat instead of letting it carry over into the game itself. So, I propose these revisions and additions to the Majestic History of the Kithain, as told by Gurrich, Boggan Historian: Mythic Age
Scavenger Sons

"Hm. Theres a way to begin this. Im certain Im forgetting ah! Yes, of R a ndom Pr oje ct course. Once upon a time --which was about 10,000 years ago Id wager -- Man arose from the primordial puddles and stepped onto the shores of Earth. With Man came cognizance and thought, and cradled in that strange mind of Mans was a simple, growing thing Dream. It was the wonder of things not yet existent, the flowering blossom of want and desire. This Dream inside of Mans head was strong, strong enough to grow with a life of its own. And soon, Mans Dream had found a home outside of his head. It lent power to the Gods, to the Sky, to the Earth, pervading all the ether and essence the world around. And it grew more and more as Man became Men and soon enough, Dream decided it wanted its own children. "And so it gave birth. "The fae creatures not quite unlike you or I were given life to walk about the land and swim about the seas and flit about the air. They were grand characters, filled with life and strange magicks some say the first magicks were ours to behold. Well, somewhere along the way, our Dreamers gained organization, and began separating off into their separate Kiths: There were, of course, all the ones we know today Sidhe, Trolls, Satyrs, etc; etc; but there were others, too. Most whose names have been lost in the waxing and waning of history, but we do know of the Nayads, whose entire race was lost at one point during the War of Subjugation. Whats that? Youve never heard of that War? No surprise. Its all rumor and conjecture, really. Nothing concrete about it, only wisps and threads pulled from collective memory. Youll remember pieces of it someday, Im certain, but for now "The War. It began well, no one knows when, precisely. But it sparked with an issue brought to the table by the Sidhe Houses of Earth. See, four of these Houses Scathach, Eiluned, Balor and Fiona believed that Man did not Dream the Fae, but that it was the Fae who Dreamed Man. See, with the existence of Arcadia overlaying the physical realm of Earth, it was a Golden Age of Dream -- there was no separation between Reality and Illusion. All flowed together in a strange dance of Creation and Destruction and Rebirth. These Houses saw this as proof that Man could not have created them, for they were more advanced by far than such a primitive beast. Why, the fae had sword and siege engines millennia before Man ever did, so it was thought impossible by some that Man had created Fae. "And that was all well and good, until these previous four Houses decided that, since they birthed Man, Man was simply a tool to be used, much like, say, a shovel. So, they made motions to enslave Humanity and bring them into a fold of bondage and humiliation. To be chewed up and spit

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out all in the sake of Glamour, that was what Man was to become. This was the dawn of the dark practice of Ravaging the near-rape of Glamour from Mans mind. "Well, four of the remaining Houses Gwydion, Leanhaun, Dougal and Liam disagreed with such notions and practices. Man was responsible for the Dreaming, they argued. And, because of this, Man needed room to grow, to expand. He needed teaching and guidance, and a careful hand lest the Dreaming be wrenched from our grip. And so an ideological chasm occurred between these eight Houses and thus you have the birth of the Unseelie and Seelie courts. "I know what youre thinking what of the Commoners? Where were they? Ah, they figure in greatly into such a history, providing its richness and heroism. Each Commoner Kith had a progenitor, if you will, a First Dreamer of each who was responsible for the molding and shaping of his own race of people. The Trolls had The Blue King, the Aerie had The Harpy Queen, Pooka had The Shifter, and finally we Boggans had the great and memorable Hearth-keeper. These four were the First Dreamers who sided with the Seelie houses, opting to protect Humanity instead of abuse and enslave it. There was, I think, a Nayad Dreamer, too. But her name and stature has been lost in the Mists, I am afraid. "There were, of course, First Dreamers who chose to side with the dark Unseelie, as well. The Redcaps who were supposedly not so ugly back then had The Fearmaker, the Sluagh had themselves The Sorceress (whose name was said to be Lilitu), the Satyrs had The Reveler, and let me see here if I can remember ah! The Nockers were first born by The Architect. "Then of course you have the Eshu Dreamer, whose name has been forgotten in the annals of time. So busy tromping off after stories, probably, making none of his own. And you realize that the Bean-sidhe were not the bean-sidhe at this time, dont you? They were, of course, House Liam, one of the Seelie bastions of the Sidhe. The Bean-sidhes story comes later, youll hear. "Regardless of all of that, sides were drawn and the war began. A terrible war it was, from what I understand. Year after year, swords flashed and hard magicks tore the landscape with terrible scars and ferocious furrows. Seelie and Unseelie cultivated their hatred for one another at this time, a deeply ingrained aversion for one anothers ways, for one anothers blood. And Humanity was in the middle sadly becoming more and more like sheep. "Somehow and I dont proclaim knowledge as to how, mind you the Seelie made great motions to come back from a hopelessly losing position. The word on the winds says that the First Dreamers of the Seelie gave back some of their powerful Glamour to a single human who entranced the rest of his race to fight back against his monstrous oppressors. Thats what some say. Others are more simple-minded and feel the Seelie won the War because well, theyre the Seelie of course and Destiny has chosen the right side to win. Hard to say, really. But the War was over, the Subjugation ceasing. And the First Dreamers were left to peacefully die." The Sundering "Of course, some changelings including a few cynics in the Seelie Court feel that maybe empowering Man was not exactly the um, wisest decision of the bunch. I for one tend to disagree, for Man is the fertile ground in which the Dreaming is grown, but others say that in giving them our Glamour, Man gained powers and insight he perhaps wasnt

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meant to have. And, inevitably, the abuse began.

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"Oh, it wasnt really abuse, per se. Mankind merely stepped forward. Quickly. He sought explanations for the things he was seeing. He wanted to know everything, hungry for knowledge. And nothing would stand in Mans way, it seems. He became tighter in community, walls began springing up, and their minds searched new ways to build things and to tear them down. "It was the Iron Age at least thats what historians call it. A terrible time when the Mists began taking nebulous shape, forced into being by Mans burgeoning rationality. The Dream that was given to Man was too easy for him he could not merely embrace it, he had to understand it and explain it away. That hurts the Dream, let me tell you. Never try to understand it. Its job is to understand you, not the other way around. Man took Dream, tainted it a little. Some of that angry Glamour seeped into the metals, into the iron. As you know we find... a physical repugnance for such materials, and history tells us that this was why. "Either way, Man didnt understand any of this. And teaching him was no good. Soon his many Gods became one God. Over time, Kingdoms of Man dotted the earth like poppies on a roll, and soon they got together and made that bitter thing called 'The Church.' Its dark stagnation spread like a thick film over much of our lands. And so it became that we slowly were incorporated into this Dream that was bound and gagged to the mortal world. We too were tied to it. Forced, inextricably, to a dying Dream." The Shattering "Forced, at least, so we thought. As fae scrabbled for the Dreams of Mankind, nigh-unable to find Dreams of their own anymore, we watched the taut cords of the Dreaming begin to unlash and snap, releasing the ethereal kingdom of Arcadia from the physical realm of Earth. Slowly, like a ghost, it began receding bit by bit, ascending into the realm of our own imaginations. The Gateways closed, the Trods collapsed it was a terrible time, I'm to understand. Some say it was the Black Plague that began the whole thing, but I tend to disagree. Good Glamour, plagues have always existed, even in our time. Theyre a terrible thing, indeed, but sadly what I believe was our downfall comes yet again from Mans rational ascension the Renaissance. Oh, sure, youd think that during such a time of flowering Art and burgeoning Beauty that we would have thrived. But we werent like that back then! We didnt need to pluck trembling Glamour from the hands of mortal artists it was ours then, we were the arbiters of such glory. The Renaissance came hand-in-hand with Humanism Mankind finding their own way, without the guidance of the Dreamers. Our world was meaningless, and so Arcadia left. "The worst part was, the Sidhe went with it. They latched onto what shreds of Arcadia they could and disappeared along with it, leaving us Commoners behind. Bah. Pompous fools, all of them. In impatience and with a sincere lack of sympathy, they left one of their own behind House Liam. Yes, the ones who would become the Bean-Sidhe. The Dreaming whispers that House Liam was left behind because of some slight they made toward the other Sidhe, but the truth is more upsetting than that. House Liam merely loved the Humans. No matter what terrible things Mans mind wrought upon us and to our worlds, House Liam loved people like they loved Glamour itself. Like God watching his children, they would embrace these artists, which some say lead to our own practices of Reverie. Either way, the other Sidhe frowned on such behavior and made it so Liam would have no ways or means into the fleeting Arcadia. And so it left Earth, House Liam behind, lost and wounded by their noble

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brethren.

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"They could have chosen to lead, to take the helm and bring faery-kind into the feudal structure of Mans mind, but they did not catch hold of such a notion. Instead, they receded, sad and strange, into the darker and lonelier parts of the world, ashamed and deprived of their ancestral home. "This was the Shattering. The Mists arose full-fledged, clouding our minds' own powerful memories. Men became their own Gods. And we were nothing but church mice scuttling here and there, hunting for meager, petty crumbs." The Interregnum "It was chaos that was our way for many years. As Mankind established order, as the Age of Invention and Exploration tightened their ranks and they flourished we floundered like fish on sandy banks. We were without the things that made us what we were. Glamour was tenuous and hard to hold. Slowly but surely we became trapped in selves of flesh with mortal life spans and everything. This was when Banality found us, cold and ceaseless. A terrible discovery, so Im told by those with the memory to hold it. Like a cold splash of water removing the paint from a canvas, leaving only swirls of brown and gray beneath it. Terrible, terrible, like the cold grip of iron manacles. "Plus, without the guidance of the Sidhe who had more or less been our rulers for the duration of changeling existence where were we to go? What were we to do? Supposedly this was the beginning of the commoners motley, groups and communities of changelings banding together to survive in the age of Mankinds disturbing progress. Changelings formed traveling circuses and bands of performers who scoured the surface of the Earth for Glamour, which was becoming scarcer and scarcer every year. We were forced to mimic the Bean-sidhes earlier practices, finding humans and cultivating their spirits to find the Glamour encased within them Glamour, might I add, that we put there so many years ago. "Im sorry. Im becoming bitter. Humankind didnt know what it was doing. It was our fault originally, Im certain. Still humans. Their progress was unfaltering. Didnt they see what they were doing? "Im getting off track. I apologize again. The point is, for 600 years we were left without guidance, and while many Commoners settled into mimicking such medieval practices of Lords and Fiefdoms, most changelings merely went along with each other, forming mutual communities. We found our rut. The courts of Seelie and Unseelie fought on the Seelie enriching Humanity and encouraging them, the Unseelie stepping on them and thieving the Glamour right from underneath their feet. "Indeed we found our niche. And then they came back. The Sidhe." Resurgence "Stupid moon landing. 1969. Im sure youve heard of it. Dont get me wrong, I appreciate all the good things it did, but there had to be a better way to get the stagnated Glamour flowing again, didnt there? The Wonder of the whole thing blew down doors, the collective Dream of Humanity taking a turn for the irrational. In all practicality, no one cared about the pragmatic nature of getting to the Moon no, it was something more intangible than that. A bizarre sense of magic, like learning to fly. It was Mankind busting down boundaries, and so boundaries for our kind fell

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just as easily.

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"Of course, those boundaries fell and on the other side were a whole gaggle of Sidhe, exiled to Earth from the Courts of Arcadia. Four Houses came unto the world again, having been absent for 600 years Dougal, Eiluned, Fiona and Gwydion. Each had their reasons for being punished and sent back to Earth. Dougal, so it is spoken, was so filled with pride the House attempted a coup of the entire Arcadian monarchy. Eiluned was said to have helped Dougal despite the obvious derivation between Seelie and Unseelie and moreso, it is said they frolicked with demons, making dark pacts with the malefic. Infernal compacts, so I understand, are not the best way to gain favor in Arcadia. Then you have Fiona who conspired against practically every other House with their secret and sly ways all at the behest of their head, Lady Fiona. And finally Gwydion fell, lost to their tumultuous rages and frenzies, butchering whole troupes of Unseelie in manners unfit for nobility. "So, these four Houses came back. Six-hundred years gone, long centuries of Banality and reason and extinguished Glamour. We had time to get used to it. They didnt. The horror of what had become of their home hit them in ways that deformed them and warped their very minds. The Dreaming was lost to them, their magic fractures into a thousand tiny cracks. They were desperate for a taste of what Arcadia offered, and to satisfy their raging urges, they turned to making Nightmares. They embraced the darkness of the sleeping mind, humans as their targets. Their practices went leagues beyond the violations of the Unseelie. No, what the Sidhe did to the human mind was create the hunger for perversity, fostering the need for pain and suffering. The darkness infused Humanitys very being, and slowly the paths of the people began shifting and swaying toward atrocities. The Sidhe were hungry for this, and they drank in the pain with glee and glory. Certainly you've heard of the hideousness of that conflict in Viet Nam? They drank from that like champagne out of an empty skull, I tell you. "To make it worse, they wanted their noble stations back. Commoners to them were well, just that. Common. And so they sought to use us or destroy us. All because of Humans and what they did to this place. More and more I think about it, its their fault really. Terrible beings. Like pigs rooting for treasures in the mud, they are. If only they hadnt opened the gates again, if only they hadnt stupidly sent them to the moon! If only, then the Sidhe wouldnt be back, and we wouldnt have to fight their dark souls night in and night out, clashing and bleeding and dying. And so came the Accordance." The Accordance War "Ever hear of the Night of Iron Knives? Sort of a boogeymans tale, really. Most of its truth was lost, but there are some alive who still remember it. A few Grumps will tell you the horrors. "Supposedly, a contingent of Commoners went to the Sidhe, seeking to reconcile with them and bring them back from the brink of madness that they were so precariously balanced upon. The Sidhe knew what they were trying to do, and played along nicely. On Beltaine Eve a settlement was sought, Commoners pleading with these new dark masters. "The doors were locked. Sidhe emerged from the shadows. Weapons in their hands iron weapons. Cold metal teeth. Weapons like these the fae cannot hold, yet these twisted beasts were carrying them like they were nothing more than paltry handbags. And so, slashing and laughing, they slaughtered the whole gaggle of Commoners. Fae selves and mortal selves dying in stride with one another. The blood. So much blood. Some part of me still remembers that. I imagine I had an ancestor there.

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"If only the Humans hadnt brought them back. The jackasses! "Still it was time for vengeance. There would be no reconciliation. The massacre was in cold-blood, in cold-iron, and would not be stood for. We brought arms against these renewed oppressors, bringing their blood to mix with ours on the battlefield. Concordia began splitting at the seams, new kingdoms rising from the madness. The Sidhe took some, we took some. Territories were drawn, maps were made. And all the while, changelings died and seeded the dirt with blood, feeding Banality with cold fire. "The Sidhe collected underneath the tenebrous guidance of Lord Dafyll of House Gwydion. A wretched man, proud and filled with an uncommon frenzy, he lead his 'fair folk' to countless victories, pushing us further down until we were clutching at any small success we could make. "Ill pause here, for a theory. It is said that, in the times of need, the First Dreamers would be reborn to Earth to bring victory to our kind, removing the Evils that oppress us. It is said that in the time of the Nightmare no less than the end of the world that these heroes of the Age of Wonders would resurface to bring the Dreaming back to its full glory. Or die trying. "Well, you know about High King David, Im sure. Maybe the story isnt as clear as youd like, so Ill tell it to you either way. Dafyll (the bastard) fought our forces on Manhattan Island, bearing the brunt of his anger against the Eastland Troll Army and the 4th Troll Infantry. While these urban trolls were no slouches, they were still falling left and right to Gwydions harried blades. "Dafyll himself lead the charge, his ancient blade Caliburn said to be a sword attuned only to the greatest of warriors carving through trolls like a hot knife through butter. It was at the base of the Statue of Liberty, Im told, that Dafyll finally fell. It is said that a Troll Wilder a boy merely running between the warriors with messages and bandages was the one to bring the commander down. This Wilder saw Dafyll cutting down his elders, and a strange anger rose within the boy. Gathering up an axe left behind by a fallen troll, the boy went after the Sidhe warlord, clashing his wide-bladed weapon against the fierce magic of Caliburn. He fought, barely able to stand underneath the girth of such a heavy axe, and was toppled to the ground by the Gwydion leader. Caliburn rose high, the light glinting off of its shimmering magicks, but something was left in the boy. As the sword fell, the axe rose and severed Gwydions hand at the wrist. Caliburn toppled to the concrete with the leaders hand still gripping it. The Wilder whom you likely know to be High King David found new footing and gathered up the fallen sword. He swung the blade in a mighty arc, and felled Dafyll with one blow. Chopping him in half, it is said although some also claim it was his head that was severed. "Surely you know the rest of the story. Gwydions armies fell back at the death of their warlord, and David wielded Caliburn before them a feat no Commoner was meant to do, not even the fiercest of Troll grumps. The fae rabble found new spirit, and David was the one to helm it." Morwen "Of course, as it mythologically must be, David has a sister. Morwens her name. While he was graced with a Troll seeming, she was given the skin of a Sluagh. Both came from a poor family, New York City. Upper Brooklyn, if I remember my history well enough and I most likely do. While he has grasped his destiny by the horns and wielded Caliburn to be the leader of the Commoner armies well, Morwen has found her calling as well.

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"Sadly, she has joined the ranks of the Sidhe. Dauntain, we call her. Its a dark day when one of us goes to their side. I dont know what made her do it. Hatred of her brother? Jealousy? I honestly cant say. Theres a strange rumor on the breeze, though, and Im sure youll catch wind of it. But in case you dont, heres what its saying some of the First Dreamers are back. David may be the incarnation of the Blue King and as for Morwen? That may very well make her Lilitu, and for the Sidhe to have a sorceress of that capability "Glamour help us. Glamour help us all." Today "So, where does that leave us? Not in a very delectable position, I dare say. We fight day in and day out, a War raging on around our ears. I prefer to stay out of the whole mess, but I know someday its going to come to my doorstep and Im going to have to make some very sincere choices. You, too. The Sidhe are not what they once were. Their numbers are less than ours, but their powers far beyond our comprehension. They are no longer noble. Never be fooled. "Still, we are who we are. Glamour waxes and Glamour wanes, but at least Humanity is still Dreaming. High King David leads us against our enemies to keep that as the standard, for we must never let Nightmare rule our spirits and our minds. The day the Nightmare begins is the last day I wish to be seen alive, thank you very much. It shall truly be worse than anything the Unseelie's Winter could provide. "Now, run along. Ive told you everything I want to tell you. Although, I must say, the Unseelie certainly have a point about those pesky Human vermin"

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