One creature that stalks the old stories operates thusly: someone who has gone into the wild places and gotten attention from the fae is awoken late at night. Rushing downstairs, they find a monstrous pile of bones, loosely held together by sinew and scattered muscles, standing over their sleeping child.

How these stories end differs: sometimes this creature is scared off, or bribed to leave. Sometimes it escapes with the child, who is sometimes rescued and sometimes lost. And sometimes, the only stories of the event are those of the neighbors hearing ghastly shrieks, running to help, and finding only bloodstains and broken furniture. Yet the creature is a constant, and it is this creature we will discuss.

What are they? #

Claimed by the fae in an age so long ago, the beings we know as cradlesnatchers are the same as those called the identical men. They are osseomancers, with extremely stretchy, mostly-detatched skin. In fact, it is so detatched that only a few drops of blood escape whenever it is cut into – allowing them to survive being flayed, or ripping their skin apart at the demands of their masters. However, if their skin is lost or destroyed, they cannot regenerate it and must spend the rest of their lives skinless. They are voiceless by the whims of the fae, albeit with a vestigial voicebox, necessitating the use of magic any time speech is required.

If one wishes to slay them, the easiest way is with an ambush, quickly puncturing their organs; any other tactic is either ineffective or dependent on luck.

What changed? #

The fae are less common in the present (at least in Anilios), but that is not the only reason cradlesnatchers are making fewer appearances. Firsly, the manner of their creation has been lost, mandating new servants be bred from the old and reducing how much risk the fae will permit them to take. Second, a large number of cradlesnatchers were lost during the blood wars. The fae believe they died.

This is not the case.

The ones who saved themselves #

The down-below has many odd properties – its residents say reality has less sway down there, as magic sputters and surges by the whims of the many darknesses – one of which broke the shackles binding that fateful group when they ventured into its authority. Swearing never to return to their once-owners, they made the down-below their new home and sought to fill it with joy.

Although naturally psionic, they quickly developed a language to speak with the down-below’s other residents; a signed and held tongue, to speak without words to those without sight. Their penchant for order has earned them high ranking positions¹ in various governing bodies, and their shapeshifting has earned them work as spies and couriers. They are also prone to performing minor, personalized, ritualistic actions as a self-soothing behavior.

Curiously, the form they gravitate toward is rather short, somewhere between 1.0 to 1.3 meters in height, with an especially narrow frame. This is partially for comfort, but they’ll admit part of their reasoning is “it just feels right” – although we must note that remaining in any shape for too long is uncomfortable, and they generally “stretch” every week or so no matter what form they take. Another thing they often do is dye their hair and/or skin: left to their own devices they’ll pick a wide variety of bold colors (like blue hair with red skin), but regularly use limiting their colors as leverage in negotiations². Additionally, they always make sure that they have a way to leave their contract, and will outright refuse to agree to anything magically binding, due to their history.

Whenever a child is born, it is traditional for the father to gently hold the baby, kiss them, then use a ceremonial knife to lovingly flay their child. The traditional pattern of slices allows the skin to be peeled off, dangling behind the curious child and out of harm’s way as they grow up and learn their osseomantic tricks without risk of irrepairable damage. In adulthood, these slices help the ex-cradlesnatcher³ to get their skin out of the way when needed, without being overly visible or snaggable.