Krampus, Wild Lord of the Alps
In the Wilds there is no Good nor Evil. There is Strength and Cunning, Brutality and Kindness, Liberty and Passion, Fervor and Abundance. There is only Life or Death... and all of these things have their God, The Lord of the Wilds, Krampus the Wild Man of the Alps.
Sometimes he is horned. Sometimes he is not. Sometimes he is red or black, white or piebald, his face ferocious and sturdy as the mighty Wood. His body shaggy with a pelt thick to withstand the blistering chill of his mountain home. At times he is horned as the Ibex, at times he is not. Sometimes he is draped in moss other times he is as proud and naked as the bear.
But always... always he is watching and he will come. THEY will all come. The God Krampus leading his host of spirits through the mountain passes, down the winding roads, across the cottage roofs, birch switch in his hand and basket astride his back he comes to witness and to revel with the many ghosts both alive and dead.
He is there to punish. And to reward. The ashen ghosts of the long dead riding along beside him, the hanger on of Sinterklaas newly added and fitting in as best he can with his new shaggy beard. He runs through the streets greeting the kids and chastising or praising the adults, ruffling hair and roughing finery, tired of the pomp and circumstance, the overgroomed and duplicitous. For he is the God of the Wilds, he has no use for the Domesticated save as dinner and dessert.
For his people he brings the conception of children, he finds lovers amidst the women and pairs others who show courage and strength. He gifts fertile fields in the shadow of his mountains. Joyous battles shall occur between Krampus and man, Krampus and Krampus. The wonderful, ecstatic festivities draw to a close, his gifts given, he takes his ghosts and his spirits back to the mountains, until next year hoping they did not forget the lessons he gave and cherishing memories he made. -I.M.Knosp
Happy Krampusnacht!
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