ell-eft

No. Enc.: 1d4 (1d4)
Alignment: Neutral
Movement: 60' (20')
Swim: 120' (40')
Armor Class: 7
Hit Dice: 3d8+3
Attacks: 1 (bite)
Damage: 1d6+1, see below.
Save: F2
Morale: 7
Hoard Class: None

This smooth-skinned newt, with mottled black and grey skin is 4' long.  It's mouth contains rows of needle-like teeth.  It's colouring can change  so it can surprise a victim on 1-3 on 1d6.  Ell-efts carry disease on their teeth, each bite has a 5% cumulative chance of infecting a victim. A save vs. poison is allowed.  If failed, disease kills the victim 1d6 days later.  If successful, the victim becomes bedridden for 15 days, at the end of this, there is a 1 in 8 chance the disease is fatal.  Ell-efts can breathe water as easily as air and move between sewers, cisterns and marshes with equal ease.

krampusfest

This week has seen Nevermet Press collaborate with artist Steve Austin seeks to reinstate the Krampus to his proper place by the side of St. Nicholas.  The Krampus adds more fear to the hope and fears of all the years... a laudable goal.  In honour of this noble endeavour and as a hat tip to the Merry Krampus carneval, we are entering Krampusfest!

ICONS Christmas Bonus (ICONS Compatibility Licence).

Krampus 
Height: 7'6"  Weight: 300lbs
First Appearance: Angel City Xmas Special #1
Origin: Transmutation
Prowess: 7
Co-ordination: 4
Strength: 7
Intellect: 5
Awareness: 6
Willpower: 7

Stamina: 14

Powers: Emotion Control (Fear) 5, Resistance (Cold) 4, Strike 5 (claws, slashing),
Specialities: Investigation, Stealth, Weapons (Bludgeons), Wrestling


Qualities: Friend of Saint Nicholas, Punisher of Wicked Children,
Challenges: Social (demonic appearance), Personal (polite houseguest if given fresh fruit).

Krampus was once Ruprecht, a medieval knight transformed by ancient magics into demonic form but tamed by Saint Nicholas to punish wicked children.  Krampus appears as a horned, wingless demon with midnight-blue fur carrying a length of rope and a bag with a number of sticks (switches), lumps of coal and sacks.  The switches and coal are left for wicked children in their Christmas stockings.  Particularly vile kids are abducted and taken for a terrifying journey.  While the word on the street is that Krampus eats these abductees, this isn't true.  Some end up tied up outside churches or police stations after a harrowing journey in a sack.  Krampus is partial to fresh fruit and will, if offered it, act like the perfect gentleman.  His demonic appearance and child-abducting ways have caused more than one rooftop battle which Saint Nicholas has had to break up.

inns & taverns: the golden cinquefoil

Befitting a busy river-town tavern in the ice-fell, the Golden Cinquefoil has a reputation.  Quips about 'reputable taverns' aside, it is sought out by those who enjoy drinks and victuals.  A few 'regrettable' incidents involving sell-swords preclude it from courtly favour.  Those wanting disreputable activities are best somewhere else.   It's sign, a gold tormentil on black, indicates the sponsorship of a local knightly order. Their ongoing vigillance usually means trouble is distant.

From the outside, the Cinquefoil is a quadrangle of solid stone and mortar.  Horses are stabled in a municipal stable in the town centre.  Dwarven stonemasonry is evident in it's construction.  The black slate tiles are often rimed with ice.  A rarity, the downstairs windows are glazed with green and clear glass set in lead to resemble fish-scales.  These windows are shuttered in barred casements that make a racket when opened.  These are closed at sundown without exception.  There are no upstairs windows, bitter winds preclude it.  Inside pale lemon plaster walls with black-stained timber are hung with scrimshaw icons and iron horseshoes.  An open hearth spills heat into the taproom and cooks a profusion of food.  Doors to a backroom, privy and kitchen see occasional traffic.  An open stairwell ascends to common and guest rooms, while the bar runs the length of the north wall.  A trapdoor leads down to a voluminous cellar and brewery.

The ice-fell allows unique brewing techniques.  The typical drink is spruce beer, sweetened with black molasses, crowberry and rowan berry.  Less discerning palates prefer fireweed ale, a straw-coloured bitter with sharp aftertaste.  The house speciality is Blood-Head, a potent ruby-tinted eisbock with plum and chocolate aftertaste.  Bloodroot, a bitter brown liquor is drunk from small glasses, warming and soothing, popular in winter.  The hungry are equally well-catered for.  A creamy saltfish stew with rye bread is surprisingly good. Blood sausage, goose confit and piragi (dumplings filled with ground beef, pickled cabbage and egg) are sold to artisans.  Knights and the wealthy are treated to jugged hare and fattened goose stuffed with rye, herbs and crowberry.

The current landlord, Merus Merusson, is newly-appointed. Though a quintessential ice-fell landlord (portly, porcine, balding and bewhiskered) he knows his proper place.  Namely following the lead of senior barmaid Alietta River. Fair of hair and skin, sagas once sang of her beauty, now satires sing of her spite.  Skilled in sword and spear, her tongue is sharpest.  The remaining staff, three barmaids, two chambermaids and a chef work to keep things lively.  Their outfits are simple white linen and fur where appropriate.  Alietta and Merus between them run a tight ship.  Merus is an expansive host, generous with measures. Alietta tolerates this as it 'keeps things sweet'.

The Golden Cinquefoil has a common room capable of sleeping nine. Chambermaids roust sleepers shortly after sunrise to clean it.  Five expensive double-guest rooms, with lockable doors, fur-lined blankets, iron chamberpots and bedpans are surprisingly comfortable.  Merus gives newlyweds a bottle of bloodroot as wedding-gift. He recommends it 'to steady the nerves'.  Alietta is obsessively protective of anyone newly married.  The chambermaids are especially careful.  Guests pay in advance to Merus who provides keys (and who keeps spares).  Unusually again, the keys are different for each room.

Once a month, when the moon is dark, the Cinquefoil hosts it's sponsors.  Nine knights bearing the golden tormentil on black will arrive and take up the common-room.  During the day, they occupy the backroom.  Matters of state, peril and religion are discussed over ale and food.  Those hoping to eavesdrop incur Alietta's wrath if caught.  At harvest-time, the inn brews bid-ale.  Locals chip in to making batches of ale, profit from which is donated to just causes  These are decided by the knights, individually or collectively.  Their decision is often sound and always final.

review: future lovecraft by innsmouth free press

Metric: Stars.  Why?  Because they're right.  Really, what else do you propose for an anthology of Lovecraftian short stories set in the future?
DISCLAIMER: Based on a review copy from Innsmouth Free Press.
Overall: 4 stars (greater than it's parts, some cracking stuff here)
Future Lovecraft runs the gamut of Lovecraft's genre and it's settings reflects the myriad lenses in which we see the future.  From Prisoner-esque dystopias to post-apocalyptics where humanity seek mutation, and alien worlds where nanotech runs riot, the settings support the essential bleakness of Lovecraft's vision.  Some stories and poems sing, others crawl from the foamy brine.  All of them convey the horrors of an entity-filled, uncaring universe.

Stories: 4 stars  (varied in scope and execution, all of them interesting.)
The stories are a mix.  The opening stories are eye-opening aperitifs and not your typical eldritch horror.  From the virtual insanity of Inky, Blinky, Pinky, Nyarlathotep to Tri-TV's channel-surfing antics and the kitchen-sink catharsis of In the Hall of the Yellow King, this triptych serves as a timely reminder you're not in New England anymore Toto.  What follows next is a diverse smorgasbord of horrific sci-fi with distinctly Mythos slant. Rubedo, an Alchemy of Madness is as potent as the morphia dulling Eliana's senses.  Harmony Amid The Stars puts you in the head of a microbiologist diving into madness on a long-distance voyage to Barnard's Star.  The Comet Called Ithaqua reveals what happens when ghouls take to the stars.  PostFlesh reveals the fate of shipwrecks on a nano-ravaged world.  Go, Go, Go Said The Byakhee is post-apocalyptic, mutating, time-travelling tragedy.  Venice Burning is a deliciously dark take on a broken reality.  Myristica fragrans details shadowy horrors on a space station, giving hints of LeGuin or Tanith Lee.  Concerning The Last Days of the Colony of New Roanoke provides an archaeological point of view on ancient catastrophe, relived by those who didn't learn.  The Kadath Angle returns to Innsmouth for a space before going beyond.  Deep Blue Dreams reveals what happens when Mythos horrors become designer drugs.  Other stories in this volume are just as good, the above have particular interest for me.

Poetry: 4 stars (powerful stuff, may not be everyone's cuppa).
Lovecraft was an exponent of poetry and it's apposite that this collection includes Do Not Imagine, a powerful piece from the perspective of the aliens.  The Old 44th considers history and the Hounds of Tindalos. This Song Is Not For You reveals the charm of the piping from Azathoth's court. Transmigration laments the inevitable fate of the cultist, A Welcome Sestina from Cruise Director Isabelle Molyneux reveals the Mythos take on the adage 'you are what you eat'. The Deep Ones echoes the subject, I can imagine this chanted by Polynesian natives.  Finally Big Bro rounds off the volume with visions of the Crawling Chaos.  Again, there are other poems, these ones were of especial interest to me.

Admiration for the inclusion of strands of poetry in an anthology aside, Silvia Moreno-Garcia and Paula R. Stiles are to be commended for picking complementary stories and poems in distinct themes.  The diversity of authors and settings is a delight for those jaded with dreary New England shores and dissections of Lovecraft's racism.  This anthology shows the bleak universe that HPL and his peers advocated finds roots in all soils.  Which is as it should be.  The cosmic horrors dwelling beyond our apprehension care little about such pettiness.  This is a quality anthology and worthy of your attention if you're a fan of this genre.