Large Fierce Mammal

A Kriminal Kristmas (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kriminal)

Lore holds that the Wendigo is a malevolent forest spirit most active in Winter. While, under the right circumstances, it can be seen in its spirit state, it has no corporeal form. It feeds upon human flesh but is impotent to do so without first inhabiting a human host that provides it with the physical means to hunt, kill, and devour its prey.

There is no known way to destroy the Wendigo, and the only way to remove it from its host is by rendering its physical being uninhabitable through complete and utter destruction.

The Wendigo seeks its host from among the morally weak and corrupt, the envious and covetous, the malicious and blindly vengeful. Those motivated by zealotry, in all its complexions. It favours people with dark motives and axes to grind. People that can’t be trusted. Just as no one knows how to destroy a Wendigo, likewise where they came from is lost to human ken, but what is understood is that every moment a Wendigo spends languishing without a host it is unable to feed, and so it grows weaker.

It cannot be starved to anything approaching our understanding of death, but its degree of depletion will decide the quality of the host it can hope to inhabit, for even among the morally weak there are degrees of strength, and a weak host does not promise as swift and sure a hunt as one that offers greater mental and physical resources.

Similarly, the Wendigo gains greater power from the devouring of an upstanding person of the highest character than one of baser sort, and it will abandon a weaker host for a stronger one as its own power grows. In this way it steadily improves its chances of securing nourishment of the highest quality.

Evil is like the Wendigo. Study (and I really mean study) reports of the past year’s events and its footprints can be clearly seen. But here we are again, and our Spirit is strong!

I remind you, Goode Reader, that all is not lost simply because of the evil that men do; for on this Winter solstice, as on many going back into the mists of remembering, Winter is a harsh Mistress whose wrath descends upon the meagre – those who would curl up in the face of adversity – for even a quadriplegic can spit in the face of doom whilst revelling in the joy of comradeship.

Tonight, we wish you all the merriest of Yule tidings, and invite you to join our Esteemed Company on yet another jaunt into this Long Winter’s Night!