There is more than one krampus you know. Many try to pin all their deeds upon one but I know different. Dangerous to the naughty, mostly neutral to those who are not. But how is naughtiness determined? Who decides who? Are they the true judges of the soul? And where do they come from, what icy hell do they crawl out of? Questions that are not going to be answered any time soon I fear. Instinct: To punish the naughty

• Imprison the naughty in its sack
• Maneouvre with frightening alacrity
• Beckon forth helpers and toys to its aid
• Determine who is naughty (and punish them)

The polar opposite of St. Nicholas, this ancient demon seeks souls to imprison in his collection. Instinct: To Collect

• Imprison
• He knows if you've been bad or good...

Instinct: to eat children

• Frost Aura
• Smell Fear

From a ways off I thought the thing was just a satyr moving house; a black-furred goatman all alone and carrying a bulging burlap sack on its back. Easy pickings. Rodger knew a shortcut through the woods and the three of us set up an ambush. The thing made an odd jangling and clinking sound as it approached, but I didn't notice all the chains until we'd dropped from our tree branch to surround it. By the gods! That face! Like something out of a nightmare. Blood red eyes and a pointed lolling tongue down to its waist. It slowly pointed at Clem and told him he'd been bad. Clem just started laughing until the thing lunged at him. Quick as a flash and that poor bastard is being shoved head first into the thing's sack. Which I suddenly notice is squirming and making these sobbing,  mewling sounds. Like it's full of crying babies or something. That's when I dropped my sword and ran. I dunno what happened to Rodger, but when I finally went back a few day later, the thing's hoofprints just... stopped. Like it disappeared into thin air. Instinct: To carry naughty children back to Hell

• Make a racket by swinging its rusty, bell-laden chains
• Stuff someone who’s been bad into its sack
• Open a portal to the Nine Hells