The Anglers

Death and fate come in many shapes; in the Wampus Country, one of those shapes is the Anglers.  A bizarre trio of banshee-like spirits, the Anglers appear as headless gentlemen, nattily dressed, with severed heads (their own?) dangling from yarn attached to their umbrellas or walking-sticks.

The Anglers are said to appear to those on the brink of a momentous decision - perhaps one which will end their life or change the fate of the world.  Usually the Anglers materialize out of nowhere, perched in a tree near a source of water or on a bridge, and sing an unearthly song which alludes to someone's upcoming destiny.  These songs shift between haunting harmories, barbershop, shrieking cacophany, and atonal dirges [1], and include cryptic predictions and perhaps even hints which, properly interpreted, could assist the hearer in their task.  The voices of the Anglers emanate from the empty space where their heads should be; on occasion the severed heads join in on the chorus.  A dance routine to accompany the prophetic song is likely.

If attacked, the Anglers will defend themselves with fierce (yet nonchalant) blows from their umbrellas; the Anglers themselves are a manifestation of some higher power, and are not easily destroyed.

(Sung in three-part harmony)
"Crack a smile and drain thy flask / Set merrily on this bloody task
Be not deterred by moral no-nos / the Devil smiles 'pon murder-hobos"

[1] - If the rest of Wampus Country is uptempo bluegrass, the Anglers are System of a Down.