D&D Urban Fantasy Urban Legends

THE HAG

"Fiddle-dee-dum and fiddle-dee-dee, the old gray lady is after me."
- children's rhyme, unknown origin

"Where are you, where are you, little miss Ann?
In the pot, stewing with Seamus and Sam."
- children's rhyme, unknown origin

There exists within the bowels of the City a creature of fearsome reputation and hideous countenance. She is said to prey upon the orphans and the street urchins, the beggars and the destitute. Those who won't be missed, who have no one to mourn for them. It is said she consumes their bodies and eats their skin, leaving only rat gnawed bones.

Still others deny this and contend that she merely eats the bodies, flaying the skin from their hides and wears it, such that she may blend in with the normal populace. And from there, she may target others to satiate her hunger and slake her thirst for blood.

Others say that she does this not out of malice but for revenge, that her children were torn from her and so she robs others of theirs. Although this does not explain why she targets the poor and impoverished.

She is the Grey Lady, the Hag of legend. Yet for all this, no one has actually seen her. Oh, there are claims and rumors of sightings but these are unconfirmed. She is alternatively said to be an actual hag, a dragon in disguise or a fiend. Others claim a vampire as the culprit or a ghoul.
A minority suggest it is a demigod, cursed to remain upon this mortal coil and cut off from worship or veneration. Furious, she avenges herself by eating innocents, to deny others what is most precious to them.

THE LICKED HAND

A common yet infrequently told tale popular among the aristocracy and nobility of the City is that of the Licked Hand. It supposedly happened to a real person, a young adult on the verge of womanhood, but more specifically to someone the storyteller knows. It goes a little like this.

A young aristocrat from a relatively well off noble family is left home alone with her faithful dog friend and a trusted butler. Her parents and siblings have gone earlier that afternoon to attend a fete.

When night approaches, she gets her trusted butler to lock all the doors and any windows within their manor. This is to ensure security. The window for the basement however won't close. They think nothing of it, as there is nothing in the basement to hide behind or anything else of note.
Her butler locks the basement door for peace of mind. The basement is designed to be only opened from the outside, so creatures who sneak into the basement can't open the door to get into the mansion.

As the night drags on, she feels sleepier and sleepier and decides to retire for the night. Her butler rests in another room, but within earshot and aid. Her dog, as always, accompanies her to her room and sleeps in its customary place under her bed.

In the dead of night, her parents staying at her aunt's, she awakens to a wet, dripping sound; must be a leaking tap. The girl, not wanting to check and not wanting to wake her butler reaches under the bed for reassurance. She feels a comforting lick from her dog and goes back to sleep.

This repeats twice. Once more, she awakens to the sound, this time sounding louder and closer. Curious, she gets up to investigate. She slowly walks towards the bathroom, passes her butler's room, the sound progressively get louder and the drips more frequent.

She turns on the light, and is floored with horror and shock. Hanging from the ceiling is her dog, its throat slit and its blood dripping onto the floor.

Something catches her eye, scrawled on the mirror in elegant yet clumsy script are the words "We can lick too."

SANGUINEUM, EX SANGUINIUS

The City does not shy away from violence. It permeates and underlies every action and reaction. From extortion and muggings to the cruelty and barbarity of the so-called Justice Courts, violence is as much the existential reality of the City as its soul.

It was not surprising then, when the bodies started turning up. It was the children who discovered them, floating in sewers or washed up along the harbor, rotting and drowned in a vile stench. Bloated they were from prolonged immersion within the Salty Drink.

To a place as violent as the City, this was nothing if not unusual, murders happened every day and accidents were always around the corner, poised for the unwary and superstitious alike.

What drew the eye to these unfortunates was not so much the manner of their deaths or condition of their bodies (their state of decay notwithstanding), it was the curious nature of the marks left upon their bruised throats. To all perception and knowledgeable eye, it was almost as if the noose of a rope was left permanently imprinted upon the skin, yet the positioning of the marks suggested the physical act of strangulation.

What then, what act, could leave such massive trauma upon the body?

As ever, darker legends prevail. It is rumored that such acts, such gross violations are the means to express the unsactionable, exsanguination to feed a perverse desire for blood. Detractors have dismissed this claim of course, the act of strangulation is so far removed from the systematic act of exsanguination that any comparison is laughable if not asinine.

These ones present an altogether different take, that the act is the means to express penance. That the method is the means to expel sin from the body. That all targeted were at least criminals, with none to miss them or mourn them.

Perhaps there is an even more horrific explanation, that all the suggestions and conjectures so put forward are correct...to a point. In the lunatic ravings of asylum inmates and the irrevocably insane can be found a clarity that cuts through all deceptions.

These ones offer a single theory. The act is not the means to draw blood, and it is not for the base purpose of expelling sin, it is the means to derive nourishment and the means to perpetuate hate. These ones suggest that all murdered were not criminals, but members of faith. That the killer in question harbors an irrational and psychotic need to murder, having been grievously wronged in the past. That all killed were clerics. The imprint of the noose is both to signify the irony and ignominy of their deaths.

The darkest myths claim that what was taken was not blood, but something all together more precious, the soul.

THE DISMAL ROOM

There is a stain within a certain room within that decaying house upon the hill, that animals and even monsters dare not venture near. It appears seemingly as a blotch of paint, carelessly dabbed upon the hard wooden floors, themselves rotting with neglect and age.

No one lingers for long within that room. All who hastily withdraw speak of an oppressive presence, its malign glare settling upon one's soul and laying it bare like so much useless paper.

All who have been in the room dream of rotting teeth and putrid flesh replacing the moon, that drips and shudders onto the firmament. This persists for two weeks, after which their dreams return to normal.

THE LAMENTABLE STAIR

It is said the Unending Staircase is not truly infinite. In its course throughout the infinite realities, it winds against and warps upon itself, affecting the illusion of vast dimensionality. This is evidenced in the tremendous contortions and illogical meanderings of the various satellite stairs the Staircase projects around itself like a great web.

Time bends in the wake of this compression and unknowable realms are anchored to minuscule platforms. To uncoil, to straighten these stairs is to unravel time and reality itself.

A seemingly unending series of steps descends from a black door on a little travelled section of the Staircase. Hearsay suggests these stairs are unwaveringly straight, for no visitors have survived that which festers upon this stair.

Recovered Sensoriums, retrieved with great cost and at distance, articulate a great crushing depression that twists about the heart and the mind like a vice. The recordings are incredibly dark, as if light itself flees that which lurks upon this stair. Not more than 10 feet is illuminated by various light sources.

Crying, pleading and sobbing permeate these recordings. Lengthy suppositions are undecided as to whether the sobbing is a result of the despair effect and produced by the visitor or a condition of the Stair. It is only known that the crying and pleading is carried out by an external thing and contingent upon visitation.

These archives also suggest that visitors to this stair are observed. Vocalisations record visitors feeling incredibly uneasy, as if being watched. Fleeting glances out of the corner of eyes imprint a pale, featureless face upon the psyche.

The sobbing, pleading and crying become progressively louder though paradoxically more distant as visitors progress down the steps. And the haunting image of the face becomes more frequent.

Some archives abruptly end as a low moan overtakes the recording, while others seem blessedly free of this disturbance. As visitors descend, they become increasingly fearful, muttering vagaries of conversation and slowly rocking as they walk, run or scream down the steps.

Beyond XXX steps, visitors vocalise an intense fear that threatens to stop their heart. Recordings are inexplicably irretrievable after the XXX step is taken.

Things to do today:

1) go to jewelry show *check*
2) watch some football *check*
3) subscribe to this thread *check*

Dannyalcatraz said:

Things to do today:

1) go to jewelry show *check*
2) watch some football *check*
3) subscribe to this thread *check*

Click to expand...

Thank you very much, bro! Really glad you enjoyed these!
With my thanks please also accept my apologies as I unfortunately haven't had much time to write more, but will try to find the time and will try not to disappoint!


I've also cleaned up a lot of the language, so hopefully it all flows better.