For a great story of about a terrifying amphiptere that appeared in England in the 1660s, check this out. http://www.henham.org/henhan_dragon.htm

Laumas are great at housework–washing, spinning, weaving. Any job that traditionally falls to women. They are hard workers, but have two fatal flaws: They can’t start a job, and they can’t finish a job. So they might come at night and work on a weaving that you started, but they will leave before the final threads are placed.

One of my sources, R.G. Latham’s The nationalities of Europe (Wm. H. Allen & Co., 1863) says that the fairies aren’t malicious, only mischievous, but goes on to say they kidnap children and replace them with fairy changelings. Uh, how that isn’t malicious I don’t know. Also, where do they get these fairy doubles, since they can’t have kids themselves?

A Lauma might take on a child who has lost both its parents as a project, Fairy Godmother-style, but when they give a gift with a warning, they mean it. So if a Lauma gives you a length of fabric and says don’t measure it, DON’T MEASURE IT.

Some say that Laumas spin and weave the fabric of life, weeping while they do, for the fate of mankind.

Some also say that the Laumas have lost their beautiful looks, due to disrespect from humans, and now look like ugly old hags.

Sources

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lauma

Marija Gimbutas, Miriam Robbins Dexter, The Living Goddesses, University of California Press, 2001

Like other demons (and A Christmas Carol), he knows all things past, present and future.

Unlike other demons, he makes his masters the life of the party–witty and bold.

Thirty-six legions of Spirits fall under his command.

He rides a viper and carries a firebrand. Aim loves to set cities, castles and places on fire.

Like Ipos, he makes you a funny guy.

But perhaps the most interesting dragonslayer is More of More Hall, who did away with a dire creature threatening the village of Wantley in the time of Queen Elizabeth the First. The horrible dragon just consumed more and more of the village resources until the villagers could take no more.

So they went to their local knight, More of More Hall and begged him to take on the dragon.

More agreed, on the condition that before he went out, he a damsel with dark hair and fair skin would oil him up and, er, help him with his armor.

He might have needed help with his armor because he had it made specially for the purpose, with 6 inch long spikes covering it.

The battle raged on for three days, with dragon and knight equally matched. With one sweep of his mighty claws, the dragon knocked away the knight’s sword, leaving him with no weapon. As a desperate last message, Sir More kicked out, aiming for the dragon’s, er, uh, ‘throat’. His aim was true and the dragon collapsed in pain, for the knight had found the creature’s one vulnerable spot. The dragon was vanquished and Sir More (and the damsel, presumably) retired to More Hall.

Good story? It’s just a story. Well, a ballad, in fact. And it doesn’t date from the time of good Queen Bess. Instead it’s from the 1600′s.

The ‘dragon’ of the story is a satire of Sir Francis Wortley, the diocese ecclesiastic of Wharncliffe at the time. He had a disagreement with his parish about what the tithe should be. ‘Sir More’ was a lawyer who ‘rescued’ the townspeople by bringing a suit against Wortley–kicking him in the ‘throat.’

Berith is another soldier, and in fact another red solider, like Zepar. Confused yet?

His steed is a red horse, making me wonder if he’s the star of Revelation 6:3-4, the opening of the second seal:

Like with Beleth (and what about the similarity with that name?), you have to use a ring when you summon him. Or else. Or else what, I don’t know, and I don’t want to find out.

Berith can turn any metal to gold, which is maybe why he wears a gold crown.

The Goetia usually uses one or two adjectives, but Berith gets three–he is a MIGHTY, GREAT, and TERRIBLE Duke. It also says he talks in a clear and subtle voice, if that’s not an oxymoron.

''Åsgårdsreien (1872) by Peter Nicolai Arbo, depicting the Wild Hunt of European folklore (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I mentioned the Wild Hunt in Herne the Hunter, in a really simplified version. But there’s nothing simple about the Wild Hunt.

It’s a legend that spans most of Europe, in various formats. Boiled down to its essence, the Wild Hunt is a group of midnight spirits on a ghostly hunt. If you see the Wild Hunt, it’s a Very Bad Thing(tm). It presages disaster. Sometimes you can escape the disaster by, of all things, joining in with the Hunt and riding with them hell-bound for leather.

But sometimes that’s a very bad thing to do because time passes differently in Faery–a few hours with the Hunt could mean a few centuries in real time.

Just as the Hunt’s riders change depending on where you are in Europe (the Faery, ghosts, spirits), and the object of the hunt changes (wild women, mythic beasts, the souls of the unbaptized), the leader of the Hunt also changes.

In some Germanic traditions, it’s Holda. She’s a fierce sky goddess, and her Hunt is made up of shrieking witches. But it can’t be all bad–she was once a fertility goddess, so all the land she rides over gives up double the produce at harvest-time.

Sources

The Encyclopedia of Vampires, Werewolves, and Other Monsters by Rosemary Ellen Guiley

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wild_Hunt

Eretik/eretica

One of the Russian words for vampire, eretik/eritika, sounds a whole lot like the word ‘heretic,’ doesn’t it? It might be because the idea of vampirism is associated with the loss of your soul, sort of a trade of eternal life in heaven for a shaky eternal half-life on Earth (There might even be an interesting connection with Judas Iscariot, the guy who betrayed Jesus, but I might look at that in another blog post sometime).

We’re pretty used to concept of vampirism being a sort of plague spread by passing the infectious blood of a vampire to a human after the human blood is sucked out. It’s classic, portrayed in many a fine novel/movie/tv show.

But actually, that’s not how the granddaddy of all fictional vampires was born. Dracula wasn’t made, he was born, by rejecting God. (He did then have the power to create vampires, fyi.)

Same with the eretica, a woman who sells her soul to the devil for the power of sorcery during her lifetime. After death, she becomes a vampire. During the day, ereticy (that’s the plural) look like hags in rags. When night falls, they gather and perform vampiric rituals.

Do not look at an eretica. They all have the evil eye, which means that if you do, you’ll die a slow, withering death.

The Vampire Encyclopedia
by Matthew Bunson

Suggested by Jolaine Incognito.

The seal of Marbas

changing into another shape, you might feel a kinship with Marbas. As a Great President of Hell, Marbas commands 36 Legions of Spirits. Here’s his seal.

When you summon Marbas (and please don’t) and you succeed, he’s going to show up in the form of a lion. If that doesn’t turn you on, you can ask him to take on a human form. But whatever you do, he’s still a demon, so maybe it’s just smarter take your aspirin and lie down if you’ve got a cold.

Here’s what the Lesser Key of Solomon has to say about Marbas:

He is a Great President, and appeareth at first in the form of a Great Lion, but afterwards, at the request of the Master, he putteth on Human Shape. He answereth truly of things Hidden or Secret. He causeth Diseases and cureth them. Again, he giveth great Wisdom and Knowledge in Mechanical Arts; and can change men into other shapes. He governeth 36 Legions of Spirits. And his Seal is this, which is to be worn as aforesaid.