The roots of Ustalavic superstition reach back into the darkened corridors of time, to an age when Varisian caravans roamed the land and Kellid shamans shrieked prayers to hill-striding god-beasts. Today, every village or family has a wise grandmother who knows just what spices will ease a cold, what wreath-shapes ward off evil, and how to test for werewolves. While many of these defenses are little more than folk medicine, custom, and hokum, some trace their pedigree to half-recalled advice, history passed into legend, and forgotten magic. Thus, although much of this body of Ustalavic folk knowledge proves unreliable, the wise know it is never to be dismissed.
Although regional variations result in countless superstitions, some being unique to hamlets or even families, the best known tales concern the following topics.
Animals: Most animal superstitions have to do with bad luck, such as cats being able to see one’s sins or foxes being red because the first fox was born amid the f lames of hell. Thus it is typically considered unlucky to cross paths with or bring harm to such creatures. Many animals are also said to be allies of the dead, with crow eyes being windows through which the dead can peer and whippoorwills heralding a coming death (finding a dead whippoorwill being especially bad luck). Dogs, hawks, and horses, however, are the focus of many good superstitions, as their keen sense of smell, sight, or bestial intuition can alert their owners to evil before it strikes. Forge works and the craft of civilization are also said to combat the base savagery of beasts, and so silver and cold-forged iron are used in making many weapons and talismans that gird those forced to travel the wilds.
Fortune-telling: Although most dismiss casting bones, reading tealeaves, and interpreting storm patterns as the diversions of charlatans and the unbalanced, Ustalavs treat spirit boards and Harrow cards with a respectful suspicion. Most believe in these tools’ ability to commune with sprits or divine hints of the future, but also know fearful stories of dreadful powers unleashed by inexpert users. Thus, the common folk tend to avoid such divinations—and magic in general—except for in times of most dire need.
Graves: Just because something’s dead doesn’t mean it’s gone. Ustalavs hold great respect for the dead, and fear their return. Graves, crypts, mausoleums, and headstones are treated as the homes of those interred, and those who defile such places garner the ire of those within. Potter’s fields and grave-shrines are often situated at crossroads, so that unquiet spirits become lost on the road rather than terrorizing their home communities. It’s also common for the corpses of the wicked or those who died mysteriously to be wrapped in chains, laden with rocks, or planted vertically or upside down, all to deter the dead from returning. The poor of Ustalav also commonly cremate their dead, and it’s said that a pinch of a loved one’s ashes sprinkled across a threshold or mixed into clay or mortar protects a place from wandering spirits.