Sluagh

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Russian Sluagh Stories

O.K. So Im a little behind. This project was a real pain in the butt. However, I hope you will be content with the results. Also, you will notice that none of these stories is about a "sluagh" - but that wasnt the point. These are the Russian stories that gave rise to what would become the sluagh. After all, it would be hard to have our gothic friends a millennia and a half before the gothic period (and without the Scottish influence). Note: This story doesnt have a sluagh figure till the very end. It is really a story about a Leshy and one of his helpers, maybe even his wife. But her appearance, and disappearance seemed Sluagh enough to be included. In other versions of the tail the farmer is cursed, and the method of disappearance changes frequently. A peasant who lived near the woods was sitting before his fire one evening when a sharp knock came at the door. The man, wondering who could be calling at that late hour got up from his supper to answer. Standing on the threshold was an old man, with a long dirty beard and deep twinkling eyes. Despite the shape of his beard, which even had twigs in it, his clothes were rich and well made. "Good man," the stranger said, "I am far from my home this night, and have traveled far today. I smelled your cooking and came to ask for shelter for the night." The man, amazed at this strange bird on his doorstep, never the less remembered his manners and agreed to let the man stay. He invited him in, gave him food, and even let the stranger sleep in his cot while he slept on the floor. Before they drifted off to sleep the stranger asked the man how his farm was doing. The man told him that everything was fine, except that his cows kept wandering into the forest and getting lost. The stranger said to him, "Well, in return for your hospitality Ill fix that right up. Everyday you just let your cows go to the woods. They will return well fed before the sun sets." The peasant was skeptical, but the next day when the stranger had gone on he decided to let his cows go out alone. They always wandered off anyway... That night when the farmer was coming back to his hut with the setting sun behind him he saw, much to his astonishment, that all his cows were in their pen. Whats more they all looked clean and well fed. Everyday for a year the farmer let his cows go free to the woods, and everyday they returned clean and well fed. Finally though, the man grew curious, and he followed the cows when they went into the woods. All of his cows went to a meadow hidden deep in the woods, and grazed there under the gaze of a peculiar old woman. When the farmer approached the woman he noticed that she looked nearly starved, the tops of her arms were much smaller than her elbows. Her eyes were black, and sunk into her head. Whats more her mouth moved, as though she was speaking but the man could hear no sound. Fearing that this old hag had worked to hard he hurried to her side and took her arm. "Come Grandmother, why dont you lie down for a while," he said. As soon as his fingers touched her she jerked, when he spoke she winced. She gave him a dirty look and whispered something at him, the words to low to hear. She pulled her arm out of his grip and started rocking from side to side, staring at him with those fish-like eyes. Then she slowly disappeared, melting like a puddle into the ground. The man looked about for her the rest of the day, but never did find her. That night he had to lead his cows home, and never again did they return from the woods by themselves. Note: Sluagh dont like to be touched. Note: The Fae in this story are almost certainly Rusalkas, although they could be Vila. However the capering and whispering

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were Sluagh like enough to mention. Also the "spirits and the dead" is sometimes just "spirits" and sometimes just "dead." But then the Rusalkas nature was a bit confused anyway - sometimes they were spirits of trees and rivers, sometimes spirits of girls who had died, and other the children on the bird king who lived by the great north sea where all rivers came from. So perhaps it isnt surprising that there is variation. (The Vila Ill talk about more when I get to their creep stories). Also, this is obviously before the "Sluagh" lost their voices, as they were making some nasty sounds at first. A man from the village, a fool who always mocked the priests and the old ones too, once snuck out from his home during a winter night while the full moon hung heavy in the sky. He indolently went strolling down to the glade where the maidens of the village danced during the spring. It was hid intention to watch the glade all the night - so that he could mock those who claimed that the spirits and the dead danced there. The man decided to circle away from the village to approach the grove, and so he walked for a long way through the woods. All about him the night was silent, and it seemed as if nothing moved. But when he drew closer to the grove he heard a terrible noise. It was a loud noise like the storms shriek, it rose up through the forest and its sound clawed up the mans back like the deads long nails as they climbed the mountain of burning iron. And then, through the branches, the man saw pale shapes spinning in the moon light. They had long hair that shone as it spun about them, like gold and ravens wings. But glimpses of the faces that he saw were terrible, the eyes sunken into heads whose skin was stretched like a skull. And there were *things* that they danced about... The man felt the fear that should have been his before his foolishness climb up inside him. Quickly he tried to sneak away, but a branch broke under his foot with a loud crack. Instantly the sound behind him stopped, and an even more terrible silence fell. The man ran then, ran with all the strength in his legs. But in his panic he could not find the way back to the village, and so he finally ran himself out of breath and fell upon the ground. As soon as he fell, a whispering started up around him. From the branches above him he half heard words of hate, from the roots bellow him came echoes of the same. His heart lurched wildly inside him, and then something writhed in the ground beneath him, and a pallid hand grabbed his shirt. Panic gave the man new strength, and he ripped free of the hand, ripping his shirt and leaving it behind him. He sprang up again and ran, although his breath burned in his lungs and the world was dizzy about him from his fatigue. He ran, crashing through the woods till he fell into a river. Sputtering and nearly drowned he scrambled to the bank and collapsed. As soon as his cheek touched the ground the whispers started again. Hands clutched at him, dragging him into the water. Once again he screamed and ripped away, losing more of his clothing. And again he ran. But every time he stopped the whispers would return, and the hands would grasp him harder. He ran until he fell and could get up no more. The next day when his brothers found he was gone they searched for him for days. They found his ripped shirt, his boots, and his tracks on the bank of the river. But his trail stopped in a tangle of roots. A single hand stuck up from under the ground beneath the roots, and even though it was winter it looked as though worms had been at it. The brothers left without trying the impossible job of digging the body out from beneath the ancient roots. Note: The Rusalkas that were not aquatic sometimes lived in trees (sometimes it was the Vily who lived in trees, depends on which region you were in). In the spring the dangled from the branches, in the winter they hid in the roots, sometimes with the dead things that "lived" there. And even in the areas where Rusalkas were aquatic they werent stuck in the water like Mermaids. They were more like spirits of the water, who could, and did leave it. Some even married mortal men. Note: The sluagh figure in this story is a Vila, even though that group is often associated with the woods and wilds. This is a famous story, with several versions (think numbers like Arthur myths), there have been some famous Operas and plays made from it - notably, *Le Villi* and Gissell, ou les Wilis. (Neither of which Ive seen). In many ways its more a ghost story than a fae story, but it fits. This is a simple short version, some would go on for pages (and this one is more cruel and less romantic)... Ivan first saw her outside his cottage, near the edge of the town, pale face beneath black hair and a misted moon. She was in a white dress, and she hovered about the lane as if unsure of her welcome. Ivan had a burning desire to talk to her, to bring her in with him. But then she turned and walked into the trees. Running after her Ivan felt disappointment wash him - for she was gone. He went and looked about the place where she had been, but could see no sign of her passing. Still, he followed a bit into the woods, hoping for a sign.

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He couldnt see anything of her, but he heard a soft weeping sound and so he followed that. Soon he had followed the sound nearly all the way about his village. Eventually, however, he caught sight of her again, palely hanging near a graveyard. He couldnt see her face, but her hair was lovely and her back long and almost painfully slender. Ivan walked towards her, but then stopped several paces back, so as not to startle her. "Why are you crying?" he asked softly. Startled the woman spun, facing Ivan. She wore a thin veil across her face, almost like a bride. "Because Im alone." she whispered. Ivan answered, "You should not be alone. Will you come to my house, for at least this night?" Gazing at him from behind her veil she answered, "If you will come and spend this long night in my house, I will go to yours the next." Ivan quickly agreed, and took several steps to the woman, grabbing her shoulders. "Where do you live?" She did not answer, but took his hand in hers and headed towards the grave. Ivan, growing fearful, tried to pull away, but somehow the slender girl was too strong for him. She dragged him to the grave, and then he was pulled in. He was never seen again, because the long night of the dead never ends. But they warn against the dark spirit that took him, for she is still sometimes seen, talking to ghosts in the graveyard. Note: The story Im following doesnt explain how he was dragged in, so neither will I. In some versions (where there was a great deal left out of this version, oaths and promises - love on both sides rather than just obsession, ect) he followed her in. In others she killed him by the grave, and in others he simply fell dead. Note: This is a short extract from a long work, so it will seem fragmentary. Also, it isnt the same Ivan. Ivan is a "generic" Russian name, and is very common in myths and folk lore. .....and in the next day, while Zalmoxis was in the cave, pale things that whispered and crawled, white things that moved through the earth and knew its secrets came to him and whispered to him. They taunted him first, but then they spoke knowledge, so that he learned many things... Note: This isnt definite by any means. Zalmoixs is an ancient and mostly forgotten god. He went below, and returned with knowledge and power. This is from a modern reconstruction, so isnt exactly original source. Note: One last semi-sluagh story with a female sluagh. The figure in this story is almost certainly Baba Yaga. Ivanko loved to go fishing in the little boat is father had made him. Everyday he would go out upon the lake and fish for hours. His mother fretted after him, and constantly warned him to be careful, lest one of the things that creeps get him. Ivanko would just laugh in reply, and tell his mother he would be safe. One day while Ivanko was out in his little boat an evil hag spotted him. Seeing his sweet young flesh she felt hungry, and smacked her toothless gums together. She wrung her skeletal hands and came up with a plan. "My little Ivanko, it is your mother," she called, "come to me my son." But her voice was thin, and to week to reach the youth so he went on fishing undisturbed. In a rage the hag went to the Smith, and told him to fashion a voice for her. At first he refused, but she threatened to expose his secrets if he did not. The smith gave in and made her a voice. With her new voice in hand the hag hurried back to the lake. There she called out again, making the voice sound like his mothers, "Ivanko, come here son." Ivanko was a good and obedient child so he went to the sound of his mothers voice. But when he got out of his boat the hag seized him and bound him up with woven cords (?spider webs?). She then dragged him to the dark part of the woods where she lived. They were passed on the way by pallid horsemen on rotting horses who called out greetings to the hag. She then dragged him to her house, which had a fence made from the bones of evil children whom she had taken. She took Ivanko inside her house and gave him to her servant to be cooked. She then went out to gather up her friends.

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The serving girl got the fire ready, and prepared the roasting spit. She then turned to Ivanko and told him to get up on the spit. Ivanko made a long face, "I would love to get on the spit, but Im young and stupid, I dont know how to jump up while Im tied." The servant cursed him for being stupid, then she untied him and used the woven cords to bind herself. "No watch, you young fool." she said and nimbly jumped up on the spit. Quick as a wink Ivanko shoved her into the fire. He then climbed out the window and into a tall tree. Below him he saw the hag dancing with the grave ghouls in her yard. As she danced others like her gathered round, dancing with the dead. Finally they left their dance and all the crones went into eat. They divided up the soft cooked food and told each other secrets as they ate. When they were finishing up the meal one commented that this was wonderful roast Ivanko. In his tree Ivanko giggled and whispered "Wonderful roast idiot." The hags heard him, for their ears were very sharp, and they jumped up and ran into the yard. They spotted Ivanko in the tree and began to scream in anger. Ivanko was trapped, and in desperation he turned to the bird in the tree and said, "Ive been a good boy all my life, and Ive always fed the birds in the tree by my room. Can you help me to escape the evil hags?" The birds said they could and gathered about him with a great flapping of many wings. Each of them took hold of a little part of his clothing and many of them flapped hard and carried him away. They quickly bore him away above the woods, while Ivanko laughed with pure delight. But soon the little birds tired and had to set him down. Ivanko thanked them and ran for his boat. Meanwhile the hags had followed the birds as far as they could, but had lost sight of them. The oldest hag asked the bugs where the boy was. They told her that the boy was running for his boat. The hags set out behind him, gaining on their spindly legs. Ivanko heard them coming behind him, and he turned to a tree and said, "Ive always been a good boy, I always respect the trees. Now Im being chased by the hags, and I need help. Could you trip them as they come by?" The tree assented and Ivanko ran on. He could see his little boat in the distance, and knew that if he could reach it he would be safe. But the hags were gaining on him too quickly. They reached out with their terrible corpse like hands and their foul odor was heavy in the air. But just when they were about to grab him up the trees lifted their branches and the hags fell in a great pile. Ivanko sprinted ahead and reached his little boat. He pushed off into the water and quickly got away from the bank. Behind him the hags gained their feet and ran to the edge of the bank, where they hopped and jerked with furry. But Ivanko was safe upon the water, and he went safely home to his parents. Note: You might notice some similarities with Hansel and Gretel, it wouldnt be surprising. Note: The "sluagh" in this story are Domovoi (house spirits), Dvorovoi (field spirits), and Bannik (bath house spirits). In many tales these creatures are boggan like, but in others they are closer to sluagh. Of course, this is hardly surprising, considering that no two tales even agree on the origin of these creatures. In some tales Domovoi are spirits that fell from heaven and landed in the roofs of homes, in others they are dead ancestors who live to help the family, in others they are hearth sprits, in others they are things that crawl about and pinch and pull hair... it goes on. It is important to remember to always knock at the bath house door, and go in backwards. If you do not you could upset the Bannik. The Bannik hates to be disturbed, and hates just as much to be seen. There was a man who lived near Saratov. He listened to his elders, and knew how to respect the spirits. Whenever he was going to the bathhouse he would knock first, to give the Bannik warning. He would then go into the bathhouse backwards, and if the bannik touched him with its claws he would leave. Only when the bannik was pleased, and touched him with the soft part of its hand, would he enter. He was always respectful. One day, after years of friendly relations with his bannik he quietly left a present for his bannik. He did so with no expectation of reward, but just to show respect - for the bannik had always kept his water warm. The next day when he was taking his bath he heard the bannik whispering from beneath the floor. He listened carefully, and the bannik told him that if

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he went to the far edge of the woods and dug beneath the split tree there he could find a treasure. The man did as the bannik told him to a week later. And when he went to the great old tree he dug beside it and found a sack of jewels, all of them cunningly cut. In his joy he went to the village and told about his treasure. The other villagers were astonished, and more than a little jealous. The man then went to his bathhouse and left some of the jewels for his friend. The next time he was bathing the bannik again whispered to him. It told him that he needed to leave the village, for some others were planning to kill him and take his treasure. The bannik told him to flee to Moscov and sell his gems. He should then buy a fine house and live there. Further, the bannik told him that one day a woman, bedraggled and mud-spattered would come to his door. He should treat her well, and earn her love - for she was the only daughter of a rich merchant and would not only bring him wealth, but greater fortune. The man thanked his bannik, and did as it said. He went to the city, and found his wife in time. They lived happily, and when her father died he took over the business. Their decedents live there to this day, rich and happy. One of the other men of the village was a fool. When he heard of the treasure and luck of the first man he decided that he would have the bannik tell him how to get rich too. So he stormed to the bathhouse and began to bathe. He did not knock first, nor did he enter backwards, or even check the water when he first pored it. While he was bathing he started to loudly demand that the bannik tell him secrets. But the bannik ignored his loud voice. So the man returned the next day, and the day after. He yelled at the bannik so loudly that others in the village could hear him. Finally the bannik had enough of this rude treatment. When the man came and bathed the next day the bannik fell upon him and strangled him in the bath. The next morning a neighbor found him, lying on the floor with his tongue hanging out and his eyes ripped from his head. It is said that to this day that bannik uses his eyes in its magics. Note: This final story is about a Domovoi and his wife. Although its unclear that there are actually two different creatures in this story, it is traditional that the Domovoi lived in the house proper (behind the stove actually) and his wife in the basement. Also, watch for the Pooka (an Ovinnkk in this case). A man from the village married a woman from the next one over. They were a good couple, though not the most beautiful one. The husband was quite pleased with his wife, but decided he couldnt afford to support her in their village. So they moved down the river to where he his grandfather had lived so that they could take over his farm. Their first day there was hard. The house had run to disrepair, and so had the fields. So all day they worked as hard as they could cleaning the house and getting the fields ready. That night when they came to bed they fell down exhausted and hardly able to rise. But during their sleep they were disturbed by a snuffling and a scratching behind the walls. They awoke and clung to each other from fear, for they were in a strange place and didnt know what spirits might live there. Soon the scrabblings stopped, but a small voice could be heard muttering no more than a few feet from the bed. The wife let out a low moan of fear, and the husband clutched her tightly. He was not a weak man, but even he was afraid of the spirits. As they lay there in the darkness a hand stole out and yanked a strand of the wifes hair free. At that she fainted, and the husband started trying to build up his courage, for he couldnt let anyone kill his wife while she lay next to him, and he was sure that the thing in the darkness was going to kill them. But, though he waited for a long time in the dark, nothing else happened. There was just a slight scrabbling and then the cabin was quiet again. The next morning the husband and wife sprang up from their bed as soon as the sun came up. They immediately fell to arguing about wether or not they should stay. The husband thought it too dangerous, but the wife held that they could not afford to move. They argued most of the morning, till finally the wife said, "I will go to one of the old women about here and ask if they know of our spirit and what we should do about it." The husband agreed to this, and the wife went off to the village to find what she needed to know. The husband meanwhile set to looking about every crack of the house. He looked everywhere that he could think that a creature might hide, but he found nothing till he came to the water barrel. To his surprise (and delight) the barrel, which had been empty the night before was now full - even though neither he or his wife had filled it. The man fell to wondering about that, and he remembered a story about a man who had a spirit that filled his water barrel at night. He had lived with it till a neighbor, who was jealous of the others horses, had convinced him that the spirit was evil and needed to be tricked into leaving. So the man had drilled a whole in the bottom of his water barrel, and that way when the spirit tried to fill it the water ran all over the floor. This made

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the spirit so angry that he killed the man and scattered his horses all over. When the wife came back she and the husband talked about what they had learned. The wife told her husband that the spirit was harmless, so long as they treated it with respect and left some food for it. The husband agreed, and they decided to stay. For the next several days they were happy, and they never had to fill their water barrel. Months later the husband was in a rage. His plow had broken, it had been a hard, cold day, and his wife had not brought him lunch. So he came storming home with furry in his breast and a mind to take it out on his wife. She, meanwhile, had just gotten up from her bed, where she had lain sick all day. She was still not feeling well, and was looking forward to her husband returning. Suddenly, something reached out and started pulling at her hair. She screamed in surprise and pain, but when she whirled about there was nothing there. Then from the other side a hand yanked her hair again. Every time she turned there was nothing behind her, and something would yank her hair. Finally, tearful from fear more than pain, she ran out and hid near the bathhouse. When her husband came into the house he found his wife gone, and the water barrel was tipped over. He stormed about the house, searching for her. But when he didnt find her his rage finally slacked and he began to worry about her. What could have happened? So he righted the water barrel and went out of the house to search. When his wife saw him coming out of the house she ran to him and told him what happened. She couldnt understand why grandfather (the Domovoi) had attacked her. The husband, calmer now and a bit ashamed, told his wife that he had been going to beat her, and that the spirit was probably warning her. The wife agreed and they went back to the house. The husband only ever was mad enough to beat his wife a few more times, and every time the spirit would pull her hair to warn her so that she could run out of the house and hide. So things went well for a long time. Eventually the wife had a healthy child, and he grew quick and strong. He was the joy of his parents eyes until he started to grow. Then he became a terror. He would spill the milk, he would throw stones at the geese and go to the barn and torture the cat. One day he tortured the cat so that it ran into a lantern and set fire to the barn. His parents despaired of ever teaching him to live properly. One day while his parents were both out the boy turned over the water barrel, laughing happily. Then something poked him, hard. The boy turned, but there was, of course, nothing behind him. He was poked again and again, and even had some of his hair torn out. Finally in a fury the boy ran to the oven and set a log to fire. He then threatened to set fire to the whole house if whatever poked him didnt leave him alone. As soon as he said this the boy saw something scuttle down into the basement. With a cry of glee he followed it down. Once he was there he started probing at the shadows with the stick, till something snatched it away and put out the fire. Then the boy was left alone in the dark. When the mother returned and didnt see her son she immediately went to the barn to see if he was tormenting the cat again. In the barn though, there was a wild looking man with black hair that stood out all ways. He ran when he saw the woman coming, but called over his shoulder that she would never see her son again. She cased the man, but he was very fast and ran into the forest where he disappeared. The woman went to her husband in the field and told him what had happened. They both set to searching all about for their son. They searched until it was past dark and they came home to tired to keep their eyes open. Weeping, they fell asleep. The next morning the parents got up and readied themselves to search again, though their hearts held little hope. Just then they heard a pounding sound coming from the basement. They looked at each other in surprise. The spirits never made noises that loud. The banging came again and the parents went to the basement to see what caused it. Lying in a corner of the basement was a large sack, and something inside it struggled and banged against the wall. Slowly the husband went to the sack and quickly opened it. Inside was their son! He was all woven up (? bound with something), and it took them a long time to get him free. Finally they got him up the stairs and freed him. But when they asked him what had happened he only swallowed hard and shook his head. He never would tell them what had gone on. But from that day on he was a much better boy. He was still wild and loud, full of youth and questions - but he always showed proper respect. And he never went in a basement again. Note: I lied, that wasnt the last story.

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There was a very horny old priest. He could never get enough, and he was always sticking his prick into whatever would take it. He had sex with every woman in the village, but even that wasnt enough. One day he stuck his thing in a whole in the wall of his house. The thing that lived in the wall was disgusted by this, so it stuck a needle through his prick. The priest screamed with pain and thrashed about. But he could not get his penis out. The needle was stuck all the way through it, so that it couldnt get back through the hole. He screamed till his voice went horse, and thrashed all about. Finally, after hours the pin fell out, or maybe the thing in the wall just got tired of his yelling and pulled it out. The priest nearly bleed to death, but he was fixed up by his servant woman. She took great delight in telling all the village what had happened. But even greater was the mirth that ensued when everyone found out that from that day on the priest could no longer get it up. Have a nice day children. Back to the Articles page The picture on this page is from Kithbook: Sluagh.

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