​The Leprechaun

Popular myth speaks of leprechauns, those small, round-bellied shoemakers to the noble faeries, who hid their pots of gold rather than see a ha'penny of it spent or lost. Leprechauns are arguably the most well-known faeries in existence. Throughout the world they're recognized on sight as the bearded little men dressed all in green with buckled shoes, curved pipes in their mouths, and a jug of whiskey close at hand. Along with shamrocks, they've become a symbol of all that's most touristy about Ireland and things Irish.

Clurichaun aren't actually like that at all, though they made the mistake of fostering that notion in mortal heads, and it has clung to them ever since. Though they're considered Gallain, clurichaun feel that they're just one more type of commoner. They're really only present in large numbers in Ireland, but they do have a point when they claim that a few of them have made the transition to areas where the Irish immigrants are plentiful. If the Kithain of Boston or Chicago or Toronto or Melbourne don't realize they have clurichaun among them, well, they just aren't looking hard enough, are they?

Clurichaun are endearing kith who both excel at revelry and can hold their own when given responsibilities. They love a good time and work hard to make sure everyone enjoys themselves. Pooka have nothing on clurichaun in the joke department, though clurichaun jokes tend to be less bitter and manic. Clurichaun have a talent for fitting in and smoothing things over. They always seem to be aware of the changing currents in any social situation, and Seelie clurichaun use these insights to say and do the right thing at the right time. They're very responsive to the needs of the moment, and can be trusted to live up to any responsibilities or duties placed upon them.

Not that they don't annoy other Kithain sometimes. Those who are Unseelie use their talent to do exactly the opposite of what's indicated. If silence is called for, they delight in being loud and obnoxious; if a few stern words might serve to stop a party that's gotten out of hand, they pour oil on the fire, becoming more wild than the most outrageous partygoer.

All the above goes right out the window the minute they imbibe any alcoholic beverage. Once they start, they just can't quit, and they draw farther and farther into themselves, brooding on all the cares of the world. When drunk, Seelie clurichaun become maudlin, getting teary-eyed and sloppy. They can get passionately sentimental over what they had for breakfast that morning, holding it up as the never-to-be-found-again ideal of all Irish breakfasts that ever were. The Unseelie just get mean. They hate the whole world, and they don't care who knows it. Anyone who gets in their way when they're in this state had better move or be able to stomp them flat before the clurichaun tear them a new… well, you know. This is why many Kithain (especially those who know little else about clurichaun except for their reputation as sots) view them with suspicion and not a little aggravation. No doubt the clurichaun became so proficient at disappearing in "the twinkling of an eye" in response.

Though they like to think of themselves as jacks-of-all-trades, they're particularly adept musicians. They're widely acknowledded as preeminent bards, and even the least talented clurichaun can pick up an instrument and produce a few chords or pick out a simple tune. Clurichaun are insatiable when it comes to music, dance, and tales, soaking them up like sponges and adding to their repertoires anything new, be it a dance step, turn of a phrase, joke, amusing tale, or musical passage. Harking back to the Celtic roots, clurichaun have prodigious memories and often act as traveling bards.