I just wanted to give a shout out to everyone who joined us in Elwynn Forest last night for our first “Campfire Story” event, led by our very own Concessa! From a Sith Cat to Grim Awakenings and more, there were many good tales of Hallow’s Eve horror!
A good time was had by all, and as always, cheers to everyone who attended!
For Honor and Vengeance (and creepy stories)!
Any chance these stories might be translated into languages the Horde can read?
Tauren love stories, even about Dirty Alliance.
The Cat Sith legend told on the “Campfire Story” event was a WoW adaptation from an actual Scottish Folklore figure.
According to an old Stromic legend, a phantom cat that is said to haunt the Arathi Highlands.
Described as standing as tall as a large dog or small calf, this phantom is known among the locals as Cat Sith, which translates into Fairy Cat. This ghostly feline is said to be completely covered in black hair except for a patch of bright white on its chest and some markings on its fur. The local farmers and hunters claim this phantom cat to be extremely aggressive towards all those who stumble upon it.
While there are many stories out there involving the Cat Sith, two prominent ones are told most often when speaking of this phantom. The first legend tells of how in ancient Kingdom of Strom, it was thought that the phantom cat had the ability to steal the souls of sleeping travelers. It was said that if a Cat Sith walked either alongside or over a sleeping traveler, the phantom would steal his or her soul for itself, leaving nothing but a dead body behind… or worse.
Because of this, travelers crossing the Highlands were instructed either seek the protection of the stone circles when making camp or to perform watches, making sure to be as loud as possible in order to keep the cat away. The watchers also made sure to never light a fire during this time as it was well known that a Cat Sith would be drawn to the flames as way to warm is ghostly body.
In order to keep the curious ghost distracted, travelers would also play games, for they believed that the cat would want to watch the games or join in. Catnip was another method used as distraction. They would also sing laments known as “coronach”, so the cat would dance and enjoy the music and ignore sleeping travelers. Finally, riddles would be asked but never answered so that the cat would ponder over the answer and not think about the souls it came for.
The second well known legend speaks of how the Cat Sith was not actually a phantom cat at all, but rather an elven witch in disguise. Cat Sith Witches were thought to have the ability to transform into cats if they pleased, but they were only able to do this a total of eight times in their entire life. If a witch were to transform a ninth time, they would be stuck in their new cat form forever. Some feel that this particular legend was the starting point for the idea that all cats have nine lives.
On Hollow’s End, it was believed that the Cat Sìth would bless any house that left a saucer of milk out for it to drink. Those houses that did not leave out a saucer of milk were consequently cursed. There was also a practice called Taghaim where they believed that the demonic Sith Cat would appear and grant any wish to those who took part in the ceremony. The ceremony required you to burn the bodies of cats over the course of four days and nights.
So, would you dare spending a night outside on the Arathi Highlands?
This was another tale from that night, “Caretaker.”
Alathar awoke from a troubled sleep to four massive Silithid creatures looming over his bed.
He froze for a moment, then screamed his lungs out. The creatures scurried from the room and Alathar stayed up all night, shaking and terrified. The inn was utterly empty. There was no sign of the other guests, and the cobbled courtyard outside his window was now a great, yawning pit.
Everything was dead quiet.
He remained awake well into the wee hours, afraid to move from his bed, or to make a sound. He thought for a long while it must have been a nightmare, but no matter what he tried, he couldn’t awaken.
The next morning, there was a tap on the door. Stifling a scream, he watched as the door slowly slid open. One of the horrid creatures pressed its many-eyed head through the gap, and stared at him. Certain he was about to be killed, Alathar grabbed a poker from the hearth - the closest thing to a weapon he could find - and made himself ready to face his last moments as best he could.
To his surprise, the creature gently dropped some stew-meat onto the floor, followed by few root-vegetables. The vegetables were still covered in wet earth, and Alathar thought they must have come from the garden the innkeeper’s wife had tended. The Silithid then backed away from the door, one long claw pulling it closed behind it.
As much as he feared for his life, hunger was getting the better of him. As Alathar ate the food, he could hear the creatures chittering quietly outside his room. None of them tried to enter the room for the rest of the day.
This strange ritual repeated every day for the remainder of the week. After a raw haunch of meat on the third day left him ill and groaning, it was replaced with more vegetables the next morning.
He tried to escape on the fifth day, and made it almost a half-mile down the road to the nearest farmstead. Rushing to the door to beg for help, he saw the windows were smashed. Inside, parts of three bodies were scattered about the room. Without warning, two of the creatures leapt down from the roof and grabbed him, dragging him screaming back to the inn.
Whatever their motives, they weren’t trying to hurt him. They continued to feed him, though after two weeks, they’d seemingly exhausted the more palatable victuals. Now, they were bringing him stray dogs and cats. He did what he could to cook them in the hearth, though they wouldn’t let him fetch firewood when he ran out, so he burned his furniture. When that was gone too, he burned the room’s curtains, then his bedding.
One night, a burning pain spread through his body. It felt like his stomach was filled with razors and molten lumps of glass. The Silithids chittered excitedly as he writhed and moaned. It was only when he felt a terrible squirming feeling beneath his skin that he realized why they had been keeping him alive.
They had been protecting their young…