From Bestiary 4 for the Pathfinder Roleplaying Game are some urban fey of wicked intent who’ve found a place in the cities of the Grand Duchy. You can read Part 1 before diving into this second part.
Spring-Heeled Jacks and Jills
Each of the great cities of Dornig have been beset at one time or another by a murderous spring-heeled jack or jill. In districts high and low, the spring-heeled jacks are like wolves among the sheepfolds, who delight in their bloody business, dodging authorities while simultaneously alarming and fascinating the populous. They are serial killers without conscience, bounding away, often leaving behind a grisly calling card to taunt the night watch.
Sometimes they work in a frenzied spree of terror, then inexplicably, will disappear for years. But if they aren’t apprehended, it is a certainty they will return. Meanwhile, the people wait in dread and craft folklore about them, which only enhances their reputation.
The tormenter of Hirschberg’s textiles corridor over the decades has been the “bad barber” Nick Flick, whose razor is red and jagged from his close shaves.
From the gnome outskirts all the way to the College Ward, Reywald’s Red Lilly has been jabbing unsuspecting victims with a blade tucked within a bouquet of flowers, posing variously as flower girls or ladies seeking an evening’s escort.
A jill with a different touch is Bad Solitz’s “Kiss-Me Kate” Quietly, who has forsworn the blade for a pearl necklace she uses as a garrote. In the guise of a debutante, Kate courts the eligible and aspiring lawyers of the city’s posh Barrister Row, striking when their chaperones excuse themselves to offer the “lovebirds” a few discreet moments alone.
Reywald’s artisans, but especially its sculptors, remind themselves in rhyme and story to be on the watch for the arrival of Vianne Osgood, the leanan sidhe who infiltrates the arts scene at least once every ten years. Alas, all the warnings go for naught, because there always seems to be one of their number who is duped by her pledges and magical aid.
As patron, she bolsters the career of a promising, but struggling, artisan, who with her magical assistance begins creating masterpieces. But it’s a bad bargain, because like a vampire, she feeds on her subject’s life force, draining him or her of all talent, leaving behind a wreck who can’t even make a living by selling sketches or carving wood.
Vianne never appears with the same name or physical appearance twice in a row. In fact, she’s even disguised her gender a time or two. But her method of recruiting a likely candidate is always the same: wooing them with promises of fame and fortune.
The difficulty in unmasking a leanan sidhe is that in an artisan-rich environment like Reywald, there is no shortage of patrons. Thus, hiding among them is easy. And because the victim is already a talented artisan, there is no reason to suspect one whose work suddenly becomes popular.
Vianne does have a tell sign, if you know where to look, though she does an admirable job of covering it up. She has a tattoo of a butterfly, the gift of an artist she fell in love with but who betrayed her. The tattoo moves around on her skin but it can never be in the same area more than a day and it must make the rounds before returning “home” to the small of her back. Therefore, on a given day, the tattoo will appear, in sequence, on lower back, back or shoulders, right arm, right hand, head or neck, left arm, left hand, front torso, right leg, right foot, left leg, and then left foot (GMs may also roll d12 and assign randomly).