Changeling - Players Guide.pdf

instruments, though. Even ol' Tinburn couldn't destroy the
bass drum a nocker made him last year. They're hard to win
over, but butter 'em up with compliments, and you'll be
friends for life.
Unseelie Satyrs: Obnoxious little twits. Call me a
maladjusted hyperphallatic has-been, will you? (Where's
that dictionary...?) Now let's see how your precious
whatsamathingie works after I stomp it to hell!
Pooka
Seelie Satyrs: Clever folks, though not as clever as
they'd like to think. I knew this cute kid from Savannah
who could charm the gargoyles down from Notre Dame; she
liked to turn into a cat and wrote the best stories I've ever
read. Not all pooka are as much fun as her, but they're a
pretty good bunch, with stamina to bum and a real long
fuse. As for Unseelie... ummm, best to avoid giant rabbits
with sticks of dynamite.
Unseelie Satyrs: A shapeshifter has so many possibilities.
Wonderful pets, dedicated pawns. They want so badly
to be liked that they'll betray the High King himself to earn
your favor.
Redcaps
Seelie Satyrs: Okay, I'll admit 1 liked one once, but he
was an exception to the rule. They've got the stamina to
party hard, but they take their thrills too dark for me,
thanks. Seelie, Unseelie, who the hell can tell? There's
something about them that's really disconcerting — I
mean, besides the smell and bad behavior. They bring out
the worst in me and my mates every time — it's like we can't
help ourselves. The festivities get too damn rough when
redcaps are around.
Unseelie Satyrs: Madden the dogs with dance and
drink, then listen to the screams. Best of all, you can blame
it all on them afterward. Such delightful playthings; their
vitality energizes even me. They suppress nothing, yet their
frenzy is like a crackling bolt to the base of your spine.
Delicious.
Sidhe
Seelie Satyrs: I hate to admit it, but those regal cricks are
irresistibly cute. No, more than cute — they are the essence
of love, beauty and nobility. Damn, I hate that. We're
magnetically attracted, I think, to each other. Maybe it's
'cause we're so different, and yet so totally alike. The
Unseelie ones are terrors; few things are more frightening
than a mad king. Their darkness makes them more compelling
than ever, but they'd feed you to the dragons for a good
time. Like I said, they're irresistible — not that I'd admit
that in front of them!
Unseelie Satyrs: The Song of Pan is heaven to them,
but they bring their own hell when they dance to our tune.
When the burdens of rulership are eased, these pompous
twings become passion's puppets. Dangle them as you will,
my friend.
Sluagh
Seelie Satyrs: First of all, always be sure to be polite.
Don't take that as a challenge to be rude — the spookies'll
come calling in your sleep. If you're nice to sluagh, though,
you'll find bracing good company. I'll admit the
conversation's a bit on the dark side, but life was meant for
sampling all things in their measure. I had one as a lover
once, and her passions ran as deep as any hornhead's. Just
don't expect much pillow talk afterward.
Unseelie Satyrs: Bring them fire in their lairs; the Song
of Pan warms their bones as well as anyone's, and they tell
such pretty tales when they're snockered. Like living blackmail
machines, they are. They're so lonely that if you win
one over, her heart will break with a sound you can hear for
miles. Ahh, such fun...
Trolls
Seelie Satyrs: If sidhe are the essence of grace, trolls are
the incarnation of nobility. They saw our folk through the
Burning Times. How many newbies could say the same?
They're a trifle somber in general, but they're also usually less
likely to lose their shit when the party's going full-tilt. Hell,
anyone who can stand me when I'm wasted, they're all right.
Ogres are a different case; if you meet a messy troll, do
not taunt Happy Funball. The bastard'll eat you—I've seen
it happen! So if you meet a troll, be his friend. You never
know how soon that'll come in handy.
Unseelie Satyrs: Dumb brutes, but useful killing machines.
They have such exalted notions of romance that
breaking one's heart is childling's play. It's a dangerous
game, however; if you must abuse a troll, be sure that you
have a place to hide. She will never, and I mean never,
forgive you.