In days of yore, the Polevik served as grain guardians, ruthlessly dealing with lazy farmers and trespassers into their fields of wheat. Terrible tales were told around hearth-fires of their harsh and blood-thirsty nature, and of the peril a slothful farmer faced. Despite this, the Polevik received a grudging respect from the farmers for their diligent protection, and paid their fields a small tithe of blood to show the Polevik their connection to the land.
Come the Shattering, the Polevik mingled their bloodline with the very farmers who tilled the soil, and proved able to combine both natures and duties well. A Polevik farmer is perhaps the hardest working and dedicated of their kind. Unfortunately, their blend of human and fae nature has done little to quell their cruel and vicious streak, and rivals and trespassers often meet a violent end, slashed and left to nourish the crops. Further compounding the problem is their long passion for sickles and poisons, which were used in equal measure to despatch their victims, and even today, the Polevik show an unsettling appreciation of knives.
Given a healthy respect (and a little ritual letting of blood) the Polevik are approachable, and other fae admit (albeit with some reluctance) that they are superior farmers. In fact, those few kithain who do earn the respect of the Polevik will find them to be steadfast and gracious hosts, but few have any desire to risk getting that close.
Some of the youngest Polevik have become disaffected with their rustic lifestyle, and have hired out to unscrupulous fae as assassins; a task at which they prove unnervingly adept. Fortunately, forgoing their bond with the land, they also lose the associated Birthright and Frailty, although this doesn't bother them unduly. In their eyes, they're just reaping a harvest of a different variety.
The Polevik are surprisingly attractive, given their violent disposition, with the males resembling handsome, rugged and slender men, with hair and beards of green young wheat. The female Polevik (Poludnitsa) resemble beautiful and wholesome Slavic women, with hair of golden wheat straw. Both carry a razor-sharp sickle, dagger or knife (real or chimerical) at all times. Traditionalists favour rugged rural clothing, while the disaffected youth have bee strongly influenced by the influx of western fashions.
Childling Polevik love to play, throwing knives into the ground, carving their initials into trees, and frolicking in the fields and meadows. They can be particularly vicious though, in the truly selfish way that children often are.
Wilder Polevik are disaffected with their old-fashioned lifestyle, gladly forswearing their connection with the fields. Many have moved to the cities, falling into crime, often joining with the Russian Mafia. Others have joined the pusch of Russian emigration, and have found themselves in strange lands, joining the criminal element there. Many find the ranks of the Unseelie Court to their liking.
Grump Polevik are the staunch defenders of their traditional roles, and are disgruntled and angry at the 'folly' of their youths. Few ever leave the Motherland.
Traditionally farmers, the young are now finding outlets as assassins, gang members, and hoods in organised crime.
Nature
"Time to reap the harvest"
Kern Baby (Traditionalists Only): Polevik can animate a crop, causing it to grasp, bind or smother a trespasser. This requires the expenditure of 1 Glamour, and the crop fights with the same skill as the Polevik directing it. It has almost limitless Health Levels (it's a field of wheat), and a Strength equal to the Polevik's Glamour. It can only grapple and bind, and is easily cut. The Polevik use this Birthright to immobilise trespassers, prior to despatching them with a knife. The Polevik must call upon his Wyrd to use this ability on the Banal.
Sickle Sharp: Polevik are astoundingly proficient with knives, sickles and other small edged-weapons. They may never botch a Melee roll using such weapons, and always gain an extra success on any hit or damage rolls they make with them.
Land Bound (Traditionalists Only): The Polevik are bound to the land they guard. If they fail in their duties they lose 2 Willpower, and gain a permanent Banality point. Every day they spend away from their domain, they lose 1 Health Level. On the plus side, their bond is so close they can always tell when someone enters their domain, irrespective of distance, cantrips or any other factors.
Virulent Fury: The Polevik find it hard to control their violent impulses, especially when irritated or angered. They suffer a +2 Difficulty penalty on all such self-control rolls in negative situations, or they become violent.
Domovoi (Sluagh): The white crawlers whisper their secrets from under the hearth. Do not cut them, for just as the worm, the pieces will become new worms. They'll plague you thereafter.
Leshiye: The masters of the wood are arrogant, laughable and weak. They grumble about our domains, but are too cowardly to do anything.
Maciew (Boggan): The Maciew have their heart set firmly in the barn and home, but they have too much regard for the mortals.
Rusalki: The water maids are as mercurial as the rivers themselves. Be wary of them in the cold of autumn and winter.
Swan Maids: We rarely meet the White Ladies, but they are always respectful of our realms.
Vily: These women are our closest kin, understanding well the role of the sentinel.
