Despite having a terrifying true form, Boogie's human guise is fairly inconspicuous. Rebecca Sinclair is pretty, but she isn't exceptionally attractive. She's no model, her slender, athletic build and heart-shaped face notwithstanding. This shapely visage is framed by honey blonde hair that falls to her shoulders. Surprisingly for someone so obsessed with maintaining an immaculate public facade, Becca rarely styles her hair beyond combing it. Of course, if there's a special occasion or important event coming up, she's not above going to a salon to get her hair done.

A pair of red, horn-rimmed glasses is usually perched on Rebecca's small nose, and the pale green eyes behind them always seem to glisten with barely contained hunger. Nobody knows if Becca wears these glasses to appear less threatening or if she actually needs them. In any event, Boogie also has a taste for fancy clothes. She never passes up an opportunity to wear one of her expensive, beautifully-tailored dresses or pristine business suits. Typically, she wears a spotless black business jacket, white blouse, and black skirt with matching shoes while working at Boogie's Beans, her jazz cafe' and coffee shop located near the Homeland Apartments. Out in public, the Boogieman wears long-sleeved shirts or jackets over a well-ironed shirt and slacks. It should be noted that she does her best to cover herself during the day since sunlight doesn't agree with her. At all.

Her true form, on the other hand, is as different from Rebecca Sinclair as night is from day. Unlike Becca's 5'7" frame, Terror stands at a towering seven feet tall and is rippling with muscle due to spending over a thousand years fighting against her siblings, Woe and Mystery, in the Darklands. Colossal, bat-like wings with tattered membranes sprout from the shapeshifter's broad shoulders, the blood red of her wings contrasting sharply with her skin's reddish-purple hue. In addition, dark blue chitinous armor covers Terror's legs and right hand. This natural armor can deflect most incoming attacks, though it cannot stop spells, enchanted weapons, or military-grade projectiles. Terror's face, a whitish purple nightmare with two pits of crackling red energy for eyes and no nostrils, is surrounded by more of this armor. Curiously, it appears to have grown into two backward-curving spikes, forming an outlandish helmet of sorts. For some reason, this armor doesn't cover Terror's left hand, which is several times larger than a human's hand and sports five white claws capable of ripping through steel.

Lastly, there is one consistent trait Boogie possesses no matter what form she takes. A mysterious black symbol can always be found on her right shoulder blade. This single line with two smaller lines shooting off it probably wouldn't ring any bells for someone that isn't well-versed in the arcane. Any Tales that do possess this knowledge, however, would immediately recognize the symbol as a greater ward. If this theoretical observer was also capable of detecting the caster’s magical signature they would know Merlin, one of the most talented wizards in the Homelands, was responsible for burning this mark into Terror's shoulder. But what is this ward protecting Boogie from? Or was it created to protect other Tales from Boogie? It's impossible to tell, though someone must know the ward's purpose.

How does one describe the personality of someone like Terror? She is old, perhaps older than any other Tale, and this has significantly warped her worldview. At the end of the day, Terror believes in one simple truth: the strong must dominate and guide the weak until they stop being useful. Then they must be destroyed. This philosophy allowed her to endure the carnage of the Everwar, the eternal conflict between Terror and her siblings, Woe and Mystery. In addition, no matter how charismatic and sympathetic the Boogieman may seem, her primary concern is always herself, though she's skilled at hiding her true intentions. Centuries of practice have made her cunning, arrogant, and willing to commit atrocities in the name of achieving her goals. However, she's not some cackling villain, rubbing her hands together in the dark of night as she plots the downfall of all that is good. Terror fully understands how tenuous the current state of the Tales' community is. For now, she plans to lay low and quietly expand her influence while keeping an eye on those in power. Inevitably, the people will demand that a leader be chosen, and who better to rule over the huddled masses then the Boogieman?

Terror honestly believes she's the best chance the Tales have at establishing a permanent home for themselves in the chaotic New World. Is anyone more qualified than someone that was embroiled in a never-ending war for thousands of years? So she charms and flirts with any influential Tales willing to work with her while subtly manipulating them into a position where she can claim their power for herself. Deep down, however, the Boogieman is haunted by memories of what she did in the Darklands. The Everwar scarred the shapeshifter deeply and nearly broke her, which ultimately led to her departure from the Homelands alongside the other Tales. Of course, this wasn't the only reason Boogie joined the Great Exodus. Initially, all she wanted was to get away Mother Night, the homicidal abomination that gave birth to Woe, Mystery, and Terror. Boogie isn't afraid of anything...except Mother Night. Every now and again, Terror will stop and wonder what her family is doing since they chose to remain in the Darklands. She also wonders if she's doomed to become just as sadistic and cruel as the nightmare that spawned her. One final and important part of who Boogie is concerns her feelings about being forced to adopt a human form. While other non-human Tales are happy to have a chance to be part of normal society, Terror deeply resents not being able to remain in her true form. On those rare occasions when she's alone, the Boogieman will revert to her true form despite the damage the transformation does to her wardrobe. She'd rather pay for multiple backup outfits then remain in her human guise a moment longer than necessary.

Once upon a time, on a nameless and isolated world, two beings came into existence without much fanfare. One was a magically-gifted, radiant entity called Father Day, and the other was a vicious, shadowy demoness named Mother Night. These two god-like entities despised each other, each one viewing the other as a blight upon the world, and it wasn't long before they came to blows. Their conflict, which would come to be known as the Time of Woes, shook the world they called home. The few races already inhabiting the planet desperately prayed to their gods for deliverance. Sadly, no salvation came for nearly a hundred years, and many of the unnamed planet's denizens perished during the Time of Woes. It was on the hundredth anniversary of their first battle that both Father Day and Mother Night realized they were too evenly matched. Neither one could completely destroy the other. It was Father Day, a paragon of virtue and an inhumanly powerful mage, that stepped forward and proposed a solution to his rival. What if they both created champions to fight in their stead, mighty warriors that could determine who was worthy of ruling this lonely world?

Mother Night, a beast that reveled in slaughter and chaos, was hesitant to accept this offer. She wanted to continue fighting regardless of whether she could defeat her adversary or not. As long as the blood kept flowing she was happy. On the other hand, killing Father Day would be a marvelous thing, and perhaps she could find a way to ensure these newborn warriors obeyed her commands and her commands alone. Of course, there was still one problem. Neither Father Day nor Mother Night had the ability to create living creatures from nothing. To make matters worse, most of the planet's inhabitants had gone into hiding, fearful of what this unexpected calm might portend. Even Father Day and Mother Night, two god-like beings with incredible powers, would be hard-pressed to convince these tribes to leave their hidden lairs. In any event, the constant fighting between the two entities hadn't endeared them to the natives. None of them would willingly agree to become their champions.

Shockingly, it was Mother Night that came up with a possible solution. What if she coupled with Father Day, and, when children sprang forth from her womb, they each picked one child to raise as their own? Once they came of age, these two trained killers would fight each other to determine the fate of this unnamed world. Although Father Day wasn't thrilled by the thought of sleeping with Mother Night, and he suspected she was planning something sinister, he reluctantly agreed. The deal was made, and the two battle-scarred entities went into a cavern to consummate their pact.

Unfortunately, there's a reason this cave is now called Harathra, which means "place of betrayal" in the tongue of one of the races driven to extinction after the Time of Woes.

A month after Mother Night and Father Day entered the cave, a loud, horrified shriek shattered the silence that had descended over the nameless planet. Some races, like the giants that once lived beneath the planet's surface, believed this scream was actually a curse. They claim to have heard Father Day's voice saying, "Cursed be you, Mother Night, and all your children! No matter how powerful you or the foul spawn of your womb become you shall never walk in the light of day, and the arcane arts shall torment you forevermore! Betrayer! Traitor! Demoness!" Regardless of what may or may not have been said, Mother Night emerged from the cavern a few days later, her grotesque body heavy with child. Father Day was never seen or heard from again.

Inevitably, the time came for Mother Night to give birth. The disparate races of the isolated planet, terrified of what might happen if they didn't try to end this madness once and for all, used this opportunity to form the largest army ever assembled. By the time their forces reached the place where Mother Night was resting, however, they saw it was too late. Three twisted, malformed shapeshifters stood in front of their mother, each one holding a different weapon in their clawed hands. The first and oldest was Woe, a pale monster doomed to forever feast on the misery of others. She wielded a silver whip made from one of Mother Night's writhing tentacles. This was the Scourge, and it dripped with an endless supply of reddish-brown sludge. The second was Mystery, a faceless horror swathed in black and clutching the Question, a staff carved from one of Mother Night's horns. The final monstrosity was Terror, an entity that drank the fear of others with all the eagerness of an alcoholic guzzling booze. Terror held one of Mother Night's teeth, which had been fashioned into a black sword called Dread. With a lazy gesture, Mother Night ordered her three newborns to exterminate the fools that had dared to rise up against her. Due to their lack of familiarity with their abilities, it took seven days and seven nights for Mother Night's children to soak the battlefield with rebel blood. In the end, however, less than a dozen warriors were able to escape with their lives. Mother Night was triumphant.

For the next several years, Mother Night trained her offspring in the art of war, sending them out every few days to hunt down the survivors of the massacre, their descendants, and any magic-users born amongst the natives. Mother Night hadn't forgotten Father Day's dying words. It was only a matter of time, however, before the other races of the unnamed world were on the verge of total annihilation. Beyond simply murdering them, each of Mother Night's children had a way to transform others into their loyal servants. The toxic slime dripping from Woe's whip infected people with the crimson tears, a plague that would eventually transform them into mindless berserkers called weepers. Mystery dragged innocent men and women into the darkest depths of the planet, their shrieks haunting the dreams of their grieving kinsmen. A few days later, they would emerge as faceless, half-crazed aberrations capable of catching rare glimpses of the future. Terror consumed the fears of mortals, and, if given enough time, could actually cause their hearts to stop beating. Instead of dying, the monster's prey would rise again as shades, creatures able to walk through shadows with as easily as a mortal might walk through a door.

And then, after decades of violence, there were no more enemies to fight.

Mother Night's children stood before their creator and said, "Dearest mother, cherished mother, glorious mother, we have slain all your foes. What shall we do now?" The demoness, who'd spent most of the last century building a fortress for herself atop the world's highest mountain, was stunned. She hadn't expected this to happen. It had amused her to watch her offspring grow into bloodthirsty, merciless killers, but what would they do now? War was all they knew and all she cared about. Mother Night sent her children away and spent seven days and seven nights contemplating what to do next. On the eighth day, she descended from her gargantuan citadel and said to her eager children, "My bold ones, my beautiful ones, my bloody ones, there is only one thing left to do. The three of you must fight to see who among you will have the honor of facing me in battle. Perhaps, if you manage to slay me, one of you will rule this world as I do now." And with that proclamation the Everwar began.

Desperate to please their mother, Woe, Mystery, and Terror mustered their armies of weepers, faceless, and shades. With these colossal armies and their formidable abilities at their disposal, Mother Night's children wreaked havoc across the nameless world. At the end of their first battle, Woe struck such a terrible blow against Mystery that it shattered the sky, causing a massive red tear to form. This tear would forever be known as the Fissure, and terrible storms of otherworldly energy constantly poured out of it like blood from a wound. These tempests shrouded the unnamed planet in shadow, and it was finally christened the Darklands. On rare occasions, these unnatural storms would bring individuals from other worlds to the Darklands, though malfunctioning magical portals were also a major contributor to this problem. Over the centuries, multiple Tales have found themselves in a vast, empty wasteland of gray sand and cruel obsidian spires. Massive skeletons and crumbling ruins are the only landmarks of note besides the titanic granite mountains to the north. And no matter where you go the sounds of monsters butchering each other and the wind moaning dog your every step. This is what the Everwar did to this once peaceful world, and it seemed like it would, indeed, last forever.

Time marched on as it always does, and it quickly became clear that none of Mother Night's children were capable of killing the others. Of course, this was all part of Mother Night's plan. Whenever one of her offspring seemed like they were gaining the upper-hand, she would find some way to convince her other two children to work together to bring them down. It was an endless cycle of slaughter and death. Exactly what Mother Night wanted. Roughly a thousand years into this meaningless conflict, however, something changed. Terror, the youngest of Mother Night's spawn, had a bizarre idea. Terror fed off the fear of others, and this fear allowed her to use her various supernatural abilities. One of these abilities was shadow-walking, which allowed her to jump from one shadow to another as long as she had a clear picture of her destination. What if she could use her shadow-walking to leave the Darklands? While Woe, Mystery, and Terror still had sizable armies, they were starting run low on soldiers. The occasional lost Tale wasn't enough to ensure the Everwar continued unabated. This grim reality notwithstanding, Terror could also barely make out the bulk of two other worlds through the Fissure's unceasing storms. What if she could visit these planets and use their inhabitants as sources of power and soldiers?

After a great deal of trial and error, Terror managed to visit one of these unfamiliar worlds. At first, she was so surprised by her success that she immediately fled back to the Darklands. She adjusted quickly, however, and began feeding on the fear of the native races. Some of her victims were brutally killed while others became shades to bolster her flagging armies back home. Terror also learned that, while all fear was intoxicating and empowering to her, the raw, the primal fears of children were especially delicious. It was around this time that legends of a horrific monster that knew the deepest fears of its victims and could change its shape began to spread. The first stories about the Boogieman.

And yet, as Terror visited more and more planets, the abomination began to realize something. Many of these worlds were engulfed in bloody conflict from time to time, but it always ended. It seemed preposterous to Boogie, but it also made her think. Would the Everwar end at some point? For the first time in her life, she actually started to hope it would. Terror and her siblings had committed unspeakable atrocities against each other and the races that survived the initial massacre after their birth. It all had to stop at some point or...or what? This question scared Terror to the point that she left the world she was currently on, a world called Earth, and swore to never use her shadow-walking abilities to travel again. She returned to the Darklands and continued fighting, but there was something missing. Terror felt conflicted and strangely broken, the mere thought of planning another attack against her sisters making her sick to her stomach. It all seemed so useless and hollow. Still, Boogie was nothing if not a warrior born and bred so she went through the motions of leading her army until the burden grew too heavy. She needed to talk to someone. And who better to consult in a time of crisis then her mother?

Terror traveled to the top of the highest mountain in the Darklands, Mount Azgalor, and entered Mother Night's towering citadel. At first, the abomination believed Terror had somehow defeated Mystery and Woe, though this concern faded quickly when the young shapeshifter began describing what she'd seen and felt during her travels throughout the Homelands. After talking almost non-stop for seven days and seven nights, Terror stood there, winded and fearful, and waited for her mother's response. It came in the form of a blow so incredibly powerful it nearly broke every bone in Terror's body. For the first time in her life, Terror felt fear, sudden and cold and unrelenting. Her mother was stronger than both of her sisters combined! Wailing in pain and horror, Terror barely managed to drag her battered body out of the citadel, her mother's mocking laughter echoing in her bleeding ears. As long as blood continued to flow, Mother Night couldn't care less about her offspring. That much was painfully clear.

Terror withdrew to her most secure stronghold and commanded her army of shades to defend her as she recuperated. It took nearly five years for her to recover from Mother Night's cruel lesson. During this time, word began to filter in from the other Homelands that numerous Tales had chosen to leave their own worlds to find new homes. This event would come to known as the Great Exodus. Initially, Terror was uncertain about leaving the Darklands. She'd lived here for thousands of years and bled for every square foot of territory she'd claimed. But what was the point of it if the fighting never stopped? And the thought of seeing her mother again filled the Tale with so much dread it finally convinced her to gather her sword, several shades, and a few other mementos before leaving the Darklands for good.

However, as the saying goes, nothing in life is ever easy.

Many Tales believed a creature like Terror shouldn't be allowed to join them in their journey. She fed on fear, and many of them recalled the stories of what happened to her victims if she lost control while gorging herself. Nobody wanted to become a shade, a mindless servant following a terrifying abomination. It didn't matter how many times Terror promised to control her eating habits, few Tales were willing to give this nightmarish creature a chance. Then Merlin stepped forward. A native of a world called Camelot, the accomplished wizard offered to place a greater ward on Terror. A ward known as the Ward of Fear. This arcane symbol would alert any powerful mages, or anyone Merlin thought might be able to help, if Boogie seemed like she might be on the verge of losing control while feeding. Reluctantly, Terror agreed to this and the ward was emblazoned on her right shoulder blade. The Great Exodus continued, and the Tales eventually reached New York. The New World.

Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on your prospective, old habits die hard. It didn't take long for Terror to realize this new world was a chaotic and dangerous place. Many Tales were struggling to make the transition, especially those without the ability to assume a human guise. Potions of Seeming and illusionary spells quickly became incredibly expensive, creating a rift between the wealthier Tales and their poorer contemporaries. Crime, corruption, and poverty spread like wildfire through the fledgling community. Terror knew what needed to be done. In a strange way, it was just like being back home in the Darklands. She needed to bring this New World to heel, to control it if this place was going to replace the Homelands. Much to her chagrin, she also missed the power and influence of being one of three rulers of an entire planet. But, first things first, she needed a stronghold, a fortress. While keeping the Ward of Fear in mind, Terror used her abilities to drive two local business owners away, their minds nearly broken by the terrible sights she'd shown them. This took several years, and Boogie lived in relative squalor during this period, but she knew it was necessary. She needed to ensure nobody viewed her as a threat. Not yet.

Once the two shop owners were gone, Terror built Boogie's Beans, a combination jazz cafe' and upscale coffee shop that catered to both Tales and mortals alike. It also happened to have a massive basement where she stored her sword as well as a small force of shades. She'd need to create more if she was going to become the leader of this community. For the time being, however, she volunteered to feed information to Tales like Crier in exchange for cash. After all, people said all kinds of interesting things in coffee shops. This arrangement allowed her to become familiar with the powerful men and women in the Tales community. And the money she was making eventually landed her a plush room in the Homeland Apartments. She even had enough cash leftover to pursue some personal projects, like learning how to sing and play the piano. There are whispers that, at some point during this period, she also paid several discrete visits to half a dozen magically gifted Tales.

With a well-established front as a legitimate businesswoman and respectable member of society, Terror can move onto the next stage of her plans. Expanding her reach and sphere of influence. Whether it's using her powers to transform homeless mortals into shades or meeting with unsavory characters in the middle of the night, Boogie has no intention of stopping until she's the undisputed leader of the Tales' community. Only time will tell how Terror's story will end.

-Fear Sense: One of the most intimidating abilities in Boogie's arsenal is her fear sense. To put it simply, she is essentially a fear vampire. She feeds off the fears of others to fuel her supernatural gifts. In order to extract this fear, however, she needs to draw it to the surface like blood from a vein. Instead of sinking her teeth into someone's neck, Terror uses her fear sense. First, Boogie must lock eyes with her intended victim for roughly thirty seconds. If she's able to do this then a quiet voice will whisper in the back of her head, revealing the person's greatest fears to her. At this point, Terror's quarry will feel a sensation similar to having a cold hand pressed against the back of their neck. Most Tales would immediately recognize this feeling and strong-willed individuals might even be able to shrug it off. Certain protection spells can also be used to defend someone from Boogie's fear sense. Mortals and weaker Tales, on the other hand, would have their deepest fears exposed for Terror to use as she sees fit. She can also maintain eye contact for another thirty seconds to acquire a mental image of exactly what her victims fear the most. This would help her determine what form to take when she ultimately visited her target to consume their fear.

-Battle-Hardened: One of the few positive side-effects of the Everwar was it transformed a young, uncertain shapeshifter into an adept warrior. Terror's swordplay, ability to plan ahead, and intense focus all come from the time she spent fighting her sisters. Furthermore, a lifetime of war has also imbued the Boogieman with a love of both mental and physical exertion. Chess, playing the piano, and even the occasional newspaper crossword puzzle are all activities the shapeshifter will indulge in when she has the time. Regrettably, Boogie suffers from vivid flashbacks of her life prior to arriving in the New World. These visions only last a few moments, but they're distracting and might be indicators of PTSD.

-Shadow-Walking: Shadow-walking is Terror's most versatile powers. It allows her to step into a shadow, visualize a destination, and instantly emerge from another shadow at her desired location. As with anything, however, it's rarely as simple as that. If the shadow Boogie initially stepped through is burned away by a light source of some kind then she can't leave the same way she entered. It would follow that if someone manages to track Terror and can figure out what shadow she's planning to emerge from then it's entirely possible to trap her in darkness. Needless to say, it's impossible for even the most skilled witch or wizard to destroy every shadow everywhere so Boogie would eventually get out. Finally, this ability barely drains any of the fear Boogie has saved up so she uses it as her primary mode of transportation.

-Shades: What is a shade? A shade is someone that died while Boogie feasted on their fears. Instead of passing into the next life, these unfortunate souls are twisted and reborn as shadowy servants devoted to serving the entity that killed them. Most people see shades as nothing more than two glowing eyes floating in the darkness, though especially perceptive Tales and mortals might catch a glimpse of their true forms. Shades are short, have pale green skin, pointed ears, wiry muscles, spindly arms and long nasty-looking claws at the tips of their bony fingers. More often than not, their gangly, malnourished bodies are rotting, and shades are often accompanied by the unpleasant stench of decaying flesh.

Apart from their gift for blending into the darkness, shades can also shadow-walk, allowing them to move effortlessly from shadow to shadow, and they can mimic certain sounds with the same perfection as their mistress. Beyond this, however, they are physically weak and vulnerable to both spells and light. A shade caught in the full light of day will burst into flames just like Boogie. It's unknown how many of these foul creatures Terror currently has at her dispoal, but there seem to be enough to run her errands. Last but not least, as long as Boogie is at least halfway full with fear she can maintain a telepathic link with her shades. Since halfway full is all the Ward of Fear will allow, this is how Terror normally communicates with her servants.

This image, which is supposed to be an accurate representation of a shade's true form, was copied from a book known as Demonomicon. The image was digitally enhanced due to the tome's advanced age. Nobody knows who penned the Demonomicon, but there are entries on several monstrous Tales found within its pages. Even El Chupacabra is mentioned a few times. However, most of the information is nonsensical rambling, and it's clear the author was more than a little insane. At the moment, this picture, along with several others, is inside a sealed envelope that's been placed outside Crier's office. Who placed it there and what their intentions are is a mystery.

-Shapeshifter: Since she was born, Terror has possessed the innate ability to shift between her true form and any other shape she can imagine. Unlike shadow-walking, however, this is not an instantaneous process. The aberration must first concentrate then pass through her true form before acquiring her desired shape. How long she has to concentrate depends on the complexity of the form she'll be taking on. For instance, Terror spends most of her time wearing the body of Rebecca Sinclair so it doesn't take her long to transform into the blonde-haired businesswoman. On the other hand, if she wanted to turn into an elephant or a whale then it would take her several hours if not an entire day. Furthermore, the form she plans to assume dictates how much stored fear she'll need to use.

As a shapeshifter, Terror doesn't need to sleep, drink, use the bathroom or breathe. While she may look like an anatomically correct version of whatever she's chosen to transform into, she isn't bound by the same biological needs. She does, however, possess the same physical capabilities as whatever creature she turns into. While her true form is quite powerful, she can't punch through walls or do anything like that as Rebecca Sinclair. She has the normal strength of a human woman while wearing Becca's form. Apart from fighting and shadow-walking, this skill, the ability to change her shape, is one of the abilities Terror honed to near perfection during the Everwar. It would take a mage of Merlin's caliber to see through her disguises. Certain enchanted items might also be able to achieve this effect, but there's no guarantee. Of course, if Boogie doesn't have the correct speaking patterns or idiosyncrasies down then others could easily figure out what's going on.

-Mimicry: Whether it's the sound of rusty chains rattling or the faint creak of a door opening in the darkness, if Boogie has heard a sound before then she can imitate it. She can also mimic the voice of another person after hearing it a few times. Curiously, whenever she sings, Terror doesn't mimic anyone's voice, though she could easily listen to some popular vocalist and use their voice instead of her own. Perhaps it's a point of personal pride for the Boogieman? At any rate, this ability barely drains any of Boogie's accumulated fear.

-Dread, also known as the Shadow-That-Cuts and the Umbral Blade: Dread is a weapon that perfectly fits its wielder. Terror received this blade, which was shaped from one of Mother Night's massive fangs, shortly after she was born. And it has claimed more than its fair share of innocent lives over the years. The sword's other names, the Umbral Blade and the Shadow-That-Cuts, were given by some its many victims. Boogie's mastery over this unholy blade is beyond compare, allowing her to perform inhuman feats of swordplay in both her mortal and true forms. While she can't do anything ridiculous like deflect bullets with Dread, Terror can block and cut through almost anything with this impressive blade. However, enchanted weapons or armor will stop the Shadow-That-Cuts cold. The sword can also be used to store the fear of Terror's victims. If the Boogieman feels she might need a little snack later, she can focus all her concentration on drawing the fear of her current victim into her sword. This will cause the blade to separate into segments, allowing the fear to seep into its core, only to reform when the deed is done. The Umbral Blade cannot hold a great deal of fear, but it's usually enough to get Boogie back to half strength.

Perhaps the most formidable attribute of the Umbral Blade is the pervasive aura of fear clinging to it. Just unsheathing this weapon is usually enough to cause weak-willed mortals to piss themselves in terror. Certain Tales might be affected as well, though anyone with a rudimentary understanding of magic wouldn't feel a thing. Of course, Boogie is more than happy to ensure witches and wizards get acquainted with Dread on a much more lethal and personal level. At the moment, the Shadow-That-Cuts is hidden in a secret compartment in the large basement beneath Boogie's Beans.

An image of Dread pulled from the Liber Ivonis, a tome that was originally penned in the year 1452 by an unknown Spanish monk. The author claimed he'd been visited by a malevolent entity known as El Cuco on nearly a dozen separate occasions, which prompted him to write the Liber Ivonis. He wanted to warn others of the nightmarish horrors that lurked in the world's darkest corners. Inevitably, the monk was accused of consorting with demons and burned at the stake. Most of his writings were destroyed, but the Liber Ivonis survived and has been edited numerous times over the centuries. Curiously, the most recent edition of the book, which was published in 2015, doesn't contain any mention of El Cuco or her sword. The image shown above was copied from the 2013 edition of the text. At the moment, this picture, along with several others, is inside a sealed envelope that's been placed outside Crier's office. Who placed it there and what their intentions are is a mystery.

-Darklands Portal Gem: Not long after she built Boogie's Beans and started selling information to the Tales authorities, Terror visited several of the community's prominent magic-wielders. She never visited the same wizard or witch more than twice, and the project she was working on cost a great deal of money. Luckily, her business was thriving at this point so she could afford to spend whatever was necessary. The final result of all these discrete exchanges was a gorgeous silver ring with a large black diamond set into it. The Boogieman wears it on her right pinkie finger at all times. While the ring is certainly nice to look at, it also happens to be the most dangerous artifact Terror owns. The ring's black diamond is actually a portal gem, and, by uttering the word "Thyrsi," it can be used to open a gateway to the Darklands. Most Tales wouldn't be able to discern the ring's purpose, but any magically talented individuals could easily do so. Furthermore, a spellcaster could probably dispel the portal once it's opened, though the enchantment placed on the diamond itself is too potent to be removed. Terror treats this ring as an emergency exit, a last resort if things in the New World don't go as planned. However, she also knows this portal is a one-way trip. It can only send people or items into the Darklands. It cannot bring them back out.

While it's difficult to tell, this picture was actually taken from the write-up about Boogie's Beans in "Local Business Owner Monthly." Someone took the time to zoom in on Rebecca Sinclair's right pinkie finger and then blew up the image. At the moment, this picture, along with several others, is inside a sealed envelope that's been placed outside Crier's office. Who placed it there and what their intentions are is a mystery.

-Magic Vulnerability: The curse Father Day uttered with his dying breath was no mere cantrip. Boogie, her siblings, and Mother Night might as well be mortals when it comes to dealing with the arcane arts. None of their impressive talents protect them from magic. There's a reason why Terror goes out of her way to avoid pissing off any powerful witches and wizards. While she can easily dodge a fireball or a lightning bolt, more insidious spells have a stronger effect on the Boogieman than on other Tales. She is strong-willed, but sometimes that's not enough to avoid falling under the sway of an especially gifted spellcaster.

-The Ward of Fear: Initially, most Tales were unwilling to allow Terror to join the Great Exodus. Considering who she was and what she ate, this didn't come as too much of a surprise to the Boogieman. It was Merlin, one of the most accomplished wizards in the Homelands, that offered to tattoo the Ward of Fear onto the monstrosity's right shoulder. This would allow Merlin, and anyone else he believed could help, to monitor how much fear Boogie was consuming at any given point. If she ever ate more than half of what she needed to reach full power then a sorcerous alarm would go off, alerting the designated Tales to what was happening. At the time, Terror was more afraid of being forced to go back to the Darklands and Mother Night then she was of being leashed. She agreed to Merlin's proposal. Now, it's no secret that she's trying to find a way to remove this ward. Merlin's spellcasting is immaculate and complex, however, so she hasn't had much luck. Besides, who would willingly make an enemy of someone like Merlin by undoing his spellcraft?

Another image pulled from the Liber Ivonis. This is a picture of an ancient rune of some kind, though a Tale with arcane knowledge would know it's actually a greater ward. The exact purpose of this ward probably wouldn't be apparent to most, but certain wizards and witches might comprehend what it's designed for. Merlin certainly would. At the moment, this picture, along with several others, is inside a sealed envelope that's been placed outside Crier's office. Who placed it there and what their intentions are is a mystery.

-Weakness to Light: Perhaps Terror's greatest weakness, another gift from her deceased father, is her vulnerability to light. She can easily endure the light coming off computer screens, lighters, or phones. Spotlights, flashlights, and bonfires, however, are enough to send her pins and needles skittering across her skin. These concentrated sources of light are also capable of stunning Boogie for a minute or two depending on their intensity. Sunlight, on the other hand, is total anathema to what Boogie is. Whenever she's forced to be outside during the day, Boogie covers herself as much as possible and usually has an umbrella handy. If sunlight were to touch Terror's skin, several things would happen. First, if she was shape-shifted, the Boogieman would have to completely drain her fear reserves to keep from losing her assumed form. The moment she ran out of fear, she'd immediately revert back to her true form and then burst into flames. She'd be dead within minutes. Needless to say, there's a reason Terror prefers to conduct most of her business at night.

-Feeds on Fear: The Boogieman needs one thing to survive: the fear of others. Much like the vampires of legend, Terror brings the fears of her quarry to the surface then absorbs them for later use. This does present something of a problem, however, because she can easily starve just like anyone else. To make matters worse, all her abilities require at least a little fear to function properly. With the Ward of Fear capable of bringing numerous powerful Tales down on her head, Boogie is constantly forced to toe the line when it comes to her dietary needs. The ward won't activate unless she consumes over half the total amount of fear she needs to become fully empowered. This allows her to do most things, but it also inhibits her. And she is always hungry.

Moreover, the act of feeding off someone's fears is a delicate and lengthy one. Once Boogie has brought the fear to the forefront using her fear sense and other gifts, she has to maintain eye contact with her prey for a full minute. This gives outsiders plenty of time to interfere, which is why she does her best to isolate her victims. Distractions of any kind will immediately break the connection between Terror and her potential meal. After a minute has passed, a thin, red beam of pulsating light passes from the victim's heart into Terror's chest. Gradually, as more and more fear is drawn out, this beam will start to darken, going from red to maroon to black. If it becomes black then the victim will likely suffer a heart attack and die...only to be resurrected as a shade. Luckily for Boogie, ever since arriving in the New World she's come up with a way around alerting Merlin and his supporters whenever she kills someone while feeding. By draining the same person multiple times, and not killing them, she can eventually cause their hearts to give out anyway. This doesn't always work, and it certainly takes longer, but it's the only way she can create more shades. In the end, Boogie needs fear to maintain her human guise so the authorities let her feed to a certain extent. Fear is intoxicating, after all, and many worry about what might happen if Terror decided to ignore the Ward of Fear and glut herself on those around her.

-Power-Hungry: There's no denying that Terror is power-hungry. After spending thousands of years as one of three beings that ruled the Darklands, she is far from satisfied with her current lot in life. Bound by Merlin's magic and forced to assume a human form more often than not. Sure, she has Boogie's Beans, and the revenue stream it brings in is impressive. But it's not enough. Terror was raised to be a warrior and a conqueror by Mother Night, her bloodthirsty creator. Hundreds of years of indoctrination don't go away overnight, unfortunately. The Boogieman will do anything in the name of achieving her goals, and some of the more well-informed Tales are fully aware of this. Boogie has worked hard to maintain a squeaky clean public image, but the truth has any annoying habit of getting out. Whether it's a cherished friend or a hated adversary, Terror would happily throw anyone under the bus if it meant she'd ultimately get what she wants.

She called him a guardian, so of course he would give his life to protect her. The great mother, Astmona of the Green Moon, screamed to him for help. Mothman could hear her but he was too occupied with the beasts before him. Made of twisted shadows, the monsters were crowded within the castle staircase, preventing his ascension. They had such an advantage over him that he could feel his knees growing weaker every time they pounded on his shield. Concentrating on his magic, Mothman reinforced the power of his Moonlight made shield, then readied his Moonlight Blade for attack. Mothman had been in the staircase for ages it seemed, fighting his way up the tower, past sixteen floors already, desperately trying to get the the great mother. This whole event had been a disaster.

Where had the warning bell been when the shadows were sighted? How had the fiends closed in on the castle so quickly? And, most importantly, how had they blacked out the moonlight? The thoughts left him as he thrust his sword forward, impaling one of the shadows upon the blade, before hefting it up, over his head, then tossing it behind him-- the body bounced and rolled down to join the others he had cut down. As he fought, hacked, tossed, Mothman thought not of the pain in his wings, the tears and holes the beasts had given him, or the massacre that was happening to his people. There were three floors left to go and the mother's cries were growing more frantic. Were her wards giving out?

With fury and desperation, Mothman cried, "Move!" As he hacked his way up the stairs. Howls and snarls answered him. Blood and the sick slickness of the flesh chopped away from the monsters coated the stairs, causing him to slip-- fangs to pierce his armor-- but still he pushed. Exhaustion was draped upon him like a weighted cloak, but still he pushed. A doorway soon greeted him-- gaping wide and surrounded by wooden splinters. With a wordless cry he thrust his blade through, bashed his shield against the splinters, and pushed his way into the room.

Darkness writhed and danced about the chamber as the Astmona held dying light in her hands, Astmona's Moonlight magic shield fading slowly, with more of the beasts bashing themselves mindlessly against it. Mothman hacked his way through the crowd, finishing off the remaining monsters in the great mother's chamber, then dashed up to stand within her light. Tears could not stain her face, for their people did not cry, but Mothman knew her sorrow. Her great wings had been torn from her back, scattered about like torn paper, and her antenna had been snapped off by monsters. Green blood poured from one of Astmona's eyes as she looked to Mothman with a deep sigh of relief. Weakly she fell to her knees upon seeing him. Mothman kneeled at her side then bowed his head respectfully. After a few silent beats passed between them, Astmona looked to Mothman, then pleaded, "You have to go, Guardian."

"I can't," he answered, emotion causing his voice to break.
"This is a lost cause, Guardian, and I'll not see all my children killed."
Mothman shook his head at her, refusing to accept it. The nest could be rebuilt if she survived-- new younglings could be hatched for a neighboring King-- things could be okay, but only if Astmona survived. He would protect her-- guard her--
"Please, Guardian," cried Astmona, her voice filled with agony, "I cannot help you if you do not wish it."
"Help? You mean," began Mothman before lapsing into silence.
"I must-- you must live for me."
"But I die for you," replied Mothman before his gaze snapped toward the door. Growling, distant but present, was coming from the doorway. More were on the way and there wasn't much time left-- it didn't matter. Come what may, Mothman was going to give everything for Astmona's protection. Sternly, with the authority of her position Astmona told him, "That is not what you swore-- repeat your creed, Guardian." Mothman slowly rose to his feet at that. Silently, he stared down at Astmona, his antenna drooping with despair, as he turned to face the doorway.

A fiend burst into the room as Mothman began, "For the mother, for the nest, I pledge my life." Sword and shield at the ready, he charged forward. Light within the room began to grow as Astmona began churning a spell into existence. "The children I will guard, as I am a child to be guarded," he roared as he thrust his blade into the belly of the creature. It hissed at Mothman, then clawed at his arm. Pained, Mothman shouted, "To give, to love, to be blessed by the sun..." He slammed his shiled against the monster, knocking it down and removing it from his blade with the blow, before charging upon it, shouting, "...in Larion's peaceful skies I fly!"

No sooner did he thrust his blade into the skull of the beast, did the room grow filled with blinding light. Weightlessness and painlessness came abruptly to Mothman, as his world became a void of white. Once more did his mother hatch him into the light of day, only this time, it was in a world he had never seen before. She called him a guardian, so that he would live his life for her.

Towering at about 7ft tall with a wingspan of 11ft, the Mothman transformation brings with it strength double that of a normal person, claws that are as sharp as a bear's, and heightened senses. He is sensitive to air current shifts, temperature changes, and the air pressure changes associated with sound. His eyesight is excellent in the dark and his field of view is nearly 360 degrees. While in this form, he is capable of using his main means of offense and defense: Moonlight Moth Magic.