A Year & A Day: Coraniaid

Changeling: the Dreaming

Homebrew Rules

Character Creation Guide Download: Coraniaid.pdf

Quoth the Coraniaid:

“You needn’t bother sneaking. I heard you breathing the moment you stepped foot here. Just as I hear your heart-beat even now. I can almost hear you thinking. ‘Is she bluffing?’ No. I’m afraid I’m not.”

Kith Excerpt:

The Mabinogi – the Welsh national epic – recalls the story wonderfully. Llud, a wizard of light (not too dissimilar to Lugh of the Tuatha) is threatened by the Coranians. These strange Fae creatures- perhaps from Rome, perhaps from Scotland, perhaps from another world, are too powerful to stop by conventional means. The moment a whispered word touches the wind, it is carried to the ears of Coranians- whose supra-natural powers of hearing clue them into any plan against them. Llud creates a plan. He beckons them to a peace-meeting, and then sprays them with a toxic mixture of insect venom and water. Of course, his own numbers are immune to the venom, and the wretchedly powerful Corani are undone.

Of course, not all of the Coraniaid were there that day, the remaining few went back to their true homes (underground, not unlike many proto-Celtic Tribes such as the Pechs, Sluagh, and Trow). Cursing Llud and his ilk for the betrayal, they would lick their wounds and nurse their hatred. They have done little else over the millennia, and the Coraniaid Crimbil (Kith) that exists today differs little from the Corani Tribe of the Mabinogi.

Today, their numbers could politely called dispossessed. The ruling Elite of the Crimbil call them Trailer-Park poor-blooded Trash. Angry and withdrawn, but not without martial talents far surpassing the other Crimbil of Cymru, the Coraniaid keep track of their numbers well. In tight-knit communities (yes, the proverbial trailer park and groups of Caravans) the Coraniaids maintain whole armies of battle-hardened and fuming mad soldiers. They bear the weight of a mythological betrayal on one shoulder large enough to match the chip on the other.



“…three plagues fell on the Island of Britain, such as none in the islands had ever seen the like of. The first was a certain race that came, and was called the Coranians; and so great was their knowledge, that there was no discourse upon the face of the Island, however low it might be spoken, but what, if the wind met it, it was known to them. And through this they could not be injured.”
Cyfranc Lludd a Llefelys – Lady Charlotte Guest (Trans.)


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