Supernatural beings

?Bereginy - B?gin­ki in Pol­ish (boo-GIN-­kee) Tra­di­tion­al­ly “coven­s” of old wom­en per­formed the rit­u­als and sac­ri­fices for these riv­er bank nymph­s. B?gin­ki means “lit­tle God­dess”. They were said to steal hu­man ba­bies and leave be­hind changelings called Odmience in Pol­ish, Oborot­ni in Rus­sian.

These spir­its were the orig­i­nal spir­its of life and pre­date the sky deities. They are the fore­run­ners of the Rusal­k­i.

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?Do­movoi - Do­mow­i­je in Pol­ish (do­h-­mo­h-VEE-ye­h) Male house spir­its from “do­mu” -home. The Do­movik usu­al­ly lives in the at­tic, be­hind the stove, un­der the thresh­hold or in the sta­bles or cat­tle barn. He is thought to be re­spon­si­ble for all do­mes­tic pros­per­i­ty and tran­quil­i­ty and fin­ish chores when fam­i­ly mem­bers for­get. He will howl and moan to warn of ap­proach­ing trou­ble, and pull hair to warn a wom­an in dan­ger of abuse from a man. He can be heard laugh­ing if good times are ahead, and if you hear him strum­ming a com­b, there is a wed­ding in the fu­ture. The Do­movoi should be fed night­ly or he may cause trou­ble, much like a poltiergeist. Usu­al­ly, if ne­glect­ed, he will sim­ply leave. To at­tract a do­movoi, put on your finest cloth­ing, go out­side and say “D­e­dush­ka Do­brokhot (grand­fa­ther well-wish­er), come live with us and tend the flock­s.”

Spe­cial care was tak­en to on­ly ob­tain pets and farm an­i­mals in the Do­movoi’s fa­vorite col­or. Each new horse was in­tro­duced for­mal­ly to the Do­movoi for the spir­it took es­pe­cial­ly good care of the an­i­mals he liked but tor­ment­ed the ones he did­n’t.

When a new house was built, the own­er would put a piece of bread down be­fore the stove went in, to at­tract the do­movoi. When a per­son moved, the coals from the stove were tak­en with them and the for­mal in­vi­ta­tion “Do­movoi, Do­movoi, don’t stay here. Come with our fam­i­ly” was re­cit­ed to en­sure that the Do­movoi came along to the new home. Salt­ed bread, wrapped in a white cloth will ap­pease the do­movoi as will putting clean white linen in his fa­vorite room - an in­vi­ta­tion to eat with the fam­i­ly. You can al­so hang your old shoes in the yard to bright­en the Do­movik’s mood. The do­movik usu­al­ly re­sem­bles a male head of house­hold, liv­ing or dead. This sup­ports the be­lief that the Do­movik is a rem­nant from the times of an­ces­tral wor­ship. He can be seen if you view him through a har­row or horse col­lar. Oth­er­wise, if he shows him­self, it is usu­al­ly to warn of death. He, like the Ban­shee, can be heard weep­ing when death ap­proach­es a mem­ber of the house­hold.

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?D­vorovoi - Rus­sian Male yard spir­its from “d­vor” - yard. Like the do­movoi, he usu­al­ly re­sem­bles the male head of house­hold and has pref­er­ences as to the col­or of pets and live­stock. He is usu­al­ly ma­li­cious and some­times, but not of­ten, dead­ly. He is ap­peased by plac­ing a shiny ob­jec­t, slice of bread and piece of sheep­’s wool in the sta­bles while say­ing “Mas­ter Dvorovik, I of­fer you this gift in grat­i­tude. Please look af­ter the cat­tle and feed them well.” If he is com­plete­ly out of con­trol he is pun­ished in the fol­low­ing way: The head of house­hold wove a three­-­tailed whip from a corpse’s shroud, dipped it in wax, in­g­nit­ed it and whipped all cor­ners of the cat­tle shed and manger, hop­ing to beat the spir­it in­to sub­mis­sion.

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?Kurinyi bog(kur-EEN-y­ee book) “Chick­en God”. Usu­al­ly a round field­stone with a hole in the mid­dle in the chick­en yard. This “de­ity” was sup­posed to pro­tect chick­ens from the do­movoi, kikimo­ra and dvorovoi.

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Lesz­i, Leshii (LESH-ee) “For­est lord”. From “les” - for­est. He of­ten ap­peared as a peas­an­t, ei­ther with­out a belt or with shoes on the wrong feet. Some­times he was said to have wings and a tail and be cov­ered in black hair. Many as­signed him goat’s hooves and horns like Pan. He is usu­al­ly at­trib­uted with green eye­s. He could change his size from that of a blade of grass to that of the high­est tree. Usu­al­ly he car­ried a club to show his ruler­ship over the for­est crea­tures. The Leszi could take the shape of a fa­mil­iar per­son and lead you astray with the sound of their voice. Once in his do­main, he might tick­le his vic­tim to death. He could al­so be­come a hare, wolf, bear, raven, pig, horse, roost­er, flam­ing fir tree or even a mush­room. The Leshi is fond of trees and is said to be heard weep­ing when one is cut down. He is the pro­tec­tor of the for­est and all it’s crea­tures. His fa­vorite an­i­mal is the wolf - the king of the beasts in Slav­ic folk­lore. He is al­so said to be of­ten seen in the com­pa­ny of bears.

Up­on en­ter­ing a forest, one al­ways ut­tered a pro­tec­tive spell or prayer lest they run in­to him. If he got hold of a child, he might re­place it with one of his own - who would grow up stupid, with a vo­ra­cious ap­petite. If the child re­turned it would ev­er af­ter­ward be a use­less tram­p. When the Leshii got his hands on an adult, the adult would re­turn some­times mute and cov­ered with moss, oth­er­times un­able to con­cen­trate and would act odd­ly for the rest of their lives.

The Leshii likes of­fer­ings of kasha, suet, blin­i, bread & salt. He is al­so per­fect­ly hap­py with a cook­ie or can­dy left on a stump or log. To pro­tect your­self against the leshi­i, you can: turn all your cloth­ing back­ward and al­so the col­lar on your horse, chant “Sheep­’s mug, sheep­’s wool” or if you en­counter him, get him to laugh. When the leshy could be coaxed to be­friend a hu­man, the hu­man of­ten had to make a pact, nev­er again wear a cross or take the eu­charist. In re­turn, the Leshy would teach the hu­man the se­crets of mag­ic. He is, af­ter al­l, the Green Man.

?Leso­vikha - (Le­h-­so­h-VEE-kah) Fe­male Lesz­i. Some­times an ug­ly wom­an with large breast­s, some­times a naked young girl - or a wom­an in white as tall as the trees.

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?Lu­govik - (loo-­GO­H-veek) Spir­it of the mead­ow. “lu­go” - mead­ow. He should not be con­fused with the spir­it of the grain field.

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?Mu­sail The for­est tsar, king of the for­est spir­it­s. He was as­so­ci­at­ed with the Rowan tree.

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?Polud­ni­ca - Psezpol­ni­ca in Ser­bian (po­h-­wood-NEET-sah) La­dy Mid­day, from “Polu­den” - noon. She may ap­pear as a 12-yr old girl, a beau­ti­ful wom­an or an old hag but is on­ly seen at the hottest part of a sum­mer’s day. She is known to steal chil­dren or lead them astray in the fields and Rus­sian moth­ers threat­en their chil­dren with “Be good or the Polud­ni­ca will get you. She some­times pulls the hair of farm work­ers or at­tacks wom­en who have just giv­en birth and wan­der out at noon­time. She car­ries a scythe and will stop peo­ple in the field to ei­ther ask dif­fi­cult ques­tions or en­gage them in con­ver­sa­tion. If the per­son fails to an­swer a ques­tion or tries to change the sub­ject of the con­ver­sa­tion, the Polud­ni­ca will strike them with ill­ness or cut off their head (Poland). The Wend­s, Ger­man Slavs, called her pscipol­nit­sa and pic­tured her as car­ry­ing shears, a sym­bol of death. When not in the fields or street­s, the Polud­ni­ca was said to float on the wind­s. Mar­i­ja Gimbu­tas calls her “sun­stroke” per­son­i­fied. It is thought that the Polud­ni­ca was the ex­pla­na­tion for the dan­gers of work­ing in the noon heat and re­mained a part of more re­cent leg­end be­cause of her use­ful­ness in scar­ing chil­dren away from valu­able crop­s.

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? Rusal­ka (roo-SAH­W-kah) Fe­male wa­ter Spir­it. These souls of un­bab­tized ba­bies or drowned maid­ens be­came beau­ti­ful pale girls with long flow­ing hair. They wear white or are some­times naked, usu­al­ly with pop­pies in their hair. They lived in the wa­ters dur­ing the win­ter, but moved to the forests and fields dur­ing Rusal’­na­ia week (hence the name) where they could of­ten be seen perched in trees.

A dan­ger to hu­man­s, the Rusal­ki may lead cat­tle astray, steal chil­dren, fall up­on peo­ple from the tree­tops and tick­le them to death or kid­nap young lads to take as lover­s. They love to come out in the moon­light to sing and dance the khorovod (cir­cle dance). If they find some­one bathing near where they dance, of­ten, they will drown them. Ty­ing rib­bons to trees in which they were known to perch is one way to ap­pease them. Linens and scarves, as well as eggs were al­so left as of­fer­ings.

Be­fore these na­ture spir­its were as­so­ci­at­ed with the souls of the “un­clean” dead, it is be­lieved they were the spir­its who brought mois­ture to for­est and field. he Rusal­ka A. S. Pushk­in, 1819

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?The Vodonoi - W?d­janoj in Pol­ish (vo­hd-YAH-noy) Male wa­ter spir­its from “Woda” - wa­ter. Mas­ter shape-shifter­s, they some­times ap­pear as old men with long green or white beard­s, some­times as crea­tures with huge toes, claws, horn­s, a tail and burn­ing eyes in a hu­man face. At times they look like fat old bald men and oth­er times like mossy look­ing fish or fly­ing tree trunk­s. If he takes on hu­man for­m, you will know him by the wa­ter ooz­ing from the left side of his coat. Vodonoi are said to live in un­der­wa­ter palaces made from the trea­sures from sunken ships and of­ten mar­ry Rus­sal­k­i.

They are usu­al­ly ma­li­cious and are be­lieved to lie in wait for hu­man vic­tims and drag them un­der the wa­ter to their death. Dark marks on the bod­ies’ of drown­ing vic­tims were thought to be bruis­es from their strug­gle with the Vodonoi. Re­triev­ing a drowned body was thought to anger the Vodonoi who want­ed to keep their spoil­s. A Vodonik may be ap­peased by pour­ing but­ter in­to the wa­ter or of­fer­ing him your first fish. To em­ploy the Vodonoi’s aid in fish­ing, throw a pinch of to­bac­co in­to the wa­ter and say loud­ly “Here’s your to­bac­co, Lord Vodonik, now give me a fish”.

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?Trea­sur­ers pozemne vile - “earth spir­it­s”. I have not seen the Slav­ic name for these crea­tures any­where - but in Pol­ish the word for gnome is “karzelek” (kar-ZE­H-lek) which these crea­tures most re­sem­ble. Called pchu­vushi by the gyp­sies, they live in mines and un­der­ground work­ings and are the guardians of pre­cious met­al­s, gems & crys­tal­s. They are most of­ten help­ful to­ward min­ers and will lead them to rich veins of ore, pro­tect them from dan­ger and lead them back when they are lost. To evil per­sons or those who in­sult them they can be dead­ly and have been known to send tun­nels crash­ing down up­on them or push them in­to dark chasm­s. Whistling, hurl­ing rocks in­to dark chasms and un­cov­er­ing one’s head are ac­tions con­sid­ered of­fen­sive to the Trea­sur­er. He will, how­ev­er, warn the of­fend­er once be­fore tak­ing ac­tion. Small in­sults war­rant a pelt­ing with hand­fuls of soil. Larg­er in­sults are usu­al­ly re­payed with a beat­ing with the Trea­sur­er’s cud­gel or the for­feit of all the met­als mined that day.

They some­times ap­pear as small naked chil­dren, as hu­man min­er­s, as glim­mers of light or as salt peo­ple. Most of­ten, though, they ap­pear as adults of small­er stature, usu­al­ly about 2 - 3 feet in height, car­ry­ing min­ing lantern­s.

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?Dziewona (je­h-VO­H-­nah)

This huntress was said to run through­out the Carpathi­an forest­s. A ver­sion of Di­ana whose leg­end is prob­a­bly due to con­tact with the Ro­ma­ni­an­s.

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?La­da (LAH-­dah, WAH-­dah)

La­da is the Slav­ic god­dess of love and beau­ty. In Rus­si­a, when a cou­ple is hap­pi­ly mar­ried, it is said they “live in lada”, in love. Lad is al­so a word mean­ing “peace, union, har­mony” as in the proverb “When a hus­band and wife have lad, they don’t re­quire klad (Trea­sure)” - Ral­ston, p.105. She is said to re­side in the un­der­world, vri­j, un­til the Ver­nal Equinox, Masleni­ca, when she re­turn­s, bring­ing the lark and spring­time with her. Like Jar­ilo, La­da is of­ten por­trayed as a god­dess who is born and dies year­ly. Her sa­cred tree is the lime/lin­den, sup­pos­ed­ly be­cause its leaves are shaped like heart­s. As a Slavo­ni­an love song goes:

“As the bee is drawn by the lin­den-bloom (or lime-per­fume), My heart is drawn by thee.” - Le­land, p.138

One sto­ry has her mar­ried to Swarog who with­out her could not have cre­at­ed the world. Oth­er sources give her a broth­er/lover named La­do which would make them di­vine twins such as Freya and Frey. There is al­so some men­tion of her two son­s, Lel & Polel, and oc­ca­sion­al­ly that of a daugh­ter, Li­uli.

?La­do (LAH-­do­h, WAH-­do­h)

“I fear thee not, O wolf! The god with the sun­ny curls will not let thee ap­po­rach. Lado, O Sun-La­do.” - W.R.Ral­ston, p.105

Part­ner of Lada, La­do is com­pared to Frey and con­sid­ered a so­lar de­ity by some. In one old chron­i­cle, La­do is called “The God of mar­riage, of mirth, of plea­sure and of gen­er­al hap­pi­ness” to who those about to mar­ry of­fered sac­ri­fice to en­sure a good union.

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?Swar?g (SH­VAR-ook)

From “s­var­gas” - ra­di­ant sky, “s­varati” - gleam­s. His name sur­vives in the Ro­ma­ni­an word for sun­burnt or hot - sfarog. A smith god, iden­ti­fied with Hep­haestis, he was as­so­ci­at­ed with fire & with it’s gen­er­a­tive pow­er, par­tic­u­lar­ly sex­u­al. He is the fa­ther of Dazh­bog (the sun) and Swarow­icz - or Ogon, the ce­les­tial and hearth fires, re­spec­tive­ly. A mas­ter crafts­man, he could shapeshift in­to the wind, a gold­en-horned au­rochs (ox), boar, horse, or the fal­con, Varagna which was his main in­car­na­tion.

Swarog was con­cerned on­ly with heav­en­ly af­fairs and left the earth­ly ones to his son. Un­for­tu­nate­ly for his chil­dren, Pe­run was a much stronger war god and took over the role as chief de­ity of the war­rior class­es.

Swarog may be the “di­vine light” of God which in turn pro­duced both the Ce­les­tial & Ter­res­tri­al fires.

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?Triglav (TREE-glahv)

Triglav was a three­-­faced de­ity, sym­bol­iz­ing the do­min­ion over the three realms - sky, earth, and the un­der­world. Triglav was shown blind­fold­ed, sup­pos­ed­ly be­cause the god was too sa­cred to view the evils of the earth, and his tem­ple at Stet­tin was rich­ly sculpt­ed both in­side and out and dec­o­rat­ed with war booty on the in­sid­e.

?Strib?g (SHTREE-­book)

From “s­rei”-­to flow or from the Ira­ni­an “s­ri­ra” beau­ti­ful, a com­mon ep­i­thet for the wind. Grand­fa­ther of the wind­s. Ac­cord­ing to E.G.K­a­garov, Stri­bog was a de­ity of wind, storms and dis­sen­sion. He was sup­posed to bring the frost.

?We­les, Vo­los (VE­H-­less, VO­H-lohs)

The Slav­ic Horned lord, ruled horned an­i­mal­s, wealth and the un­der­world. He is be­lieved to have sur­vived from the time of a com­mon In­do-Eu­ro­pean pan­theon. He was al­so a god of trade and oaths were sworn in his name. We­les is al­so the God of po­ets and bards and is of­ten as­so­ci­at­ed with mag­ick.