Van Richten's Guide to Werebeasts - An Overview of Lycanthropy

The blood of me parents runs through my veins... with all that this kinship implies. Is this blood that we share cursed, tainted? Or is it blessed, somehow sanctified by a power greater than that of humanity? My father would have me believe the latter - that our kinship marks us as far above the bustling hordes of humanity as they are above the cattle they slaughter for food.
Yet in these latter days, I have trouble believing that. I hear their screams as fall upon them and I have to believe they are not so unlike us. We, too, are kin in some sense - humanity, and that wgich my blood tells me I am. They consider my kind monsters, and sometimes I wonder whether they are right.

But when I feel the fierce elation of the metamorphosis come upon me, then how can I not consider myself blessed, as one small step below the gods?

- Excerpt from a Werebeast's Journal

An Overview of Lycanthropy

Since my encounter with the werebeast in the hills near Varithne almost two decades ago, I have endeavored to learn all that I could about its foul kind. This has proved to be difficult, although not for the same reasons that my research into the nature of other supernatural beasts was so challenging. No, the degree of variability between two werebeasts sharing the same animalistic form is far less than the variability shown by vampires, for example.

The difficulty of the research stems more from the fact that the werebeast is such an emotionally evocative symbol. So many descriptions, tales, and legends that refer to werebeasts incorporate purely symbolic material. It seems, in fact, difficult verging on impossible to find any discussion of werebeasts that sticks entirely to the unembellished truth. While understandable, as a researcher I find this highly irritating. Nevertheless, I have been able to separate - to some degree, at least - the truth of the matter from the symbolic elaborations.

There are, of course, many phenotypes of lycanthropes: werewolves, wererats, werejaguars, even werebadgers, to name but four I have encountered personally. (The word "phenotype" was introduced to me by a sage from a mysterious and distant land. I find it more descriptive than "species".) I shall outline the characteristics of each phenotype in a subsequent chapter. In this section, however, I shall concentrate on the two basic classifications of werebeasts: true lycanthropes, who inherit their condition, and infected lycanthropes, who acquire their affliction through a werebeast's attack. Because the latter condition more closely resembles a disease and can be cured (albeit through extraordinary means), I have dubbed it pathologic lycanthropy. There is a third classification as well, which is curse-induced, or maledictive, lycanthropy. However, examples of this class are so rare, and their characteristics so diverse, that I shall only touch briefly upon the subject.

Finally, at the end of this chapter I shall share with you my theory on how lycanthropy arose.

This is the archetypal form of the scourge that is lycanthropy. Often called true lycanthropy, it is an inherent, self-sustaining condition that can neither be cured nor contracted by others. If one is not born a true lycanthrope, then one can never become one. If one is so born, then it is impossible to alter or cure the condition, much as it would be impossible to cure an elf of the condition of being an elf.

True lycanthropes have their own society as well as their own rules of conduct. Although they may move through normal human society, they are not of that society. This is discussed in considerably more detail in Chapter Three. For the moment, suffice it to say that when it comes time to choose a mate, most true lycanthropes select another of their kind. The offspring of such a union will always prove to be heritable lycanthropes themselves.

Sometimes, for whatever reason, a true lycanthrope will breed with someone who does not suffer the scourge. If it is the male who is the true lycanthrope and the female who is free of the contagion. I estimate a simple 50 percent chance that any offspring of the union will be a true lycanthrope. If the offspring does not inherit true lycanthropy, it should be completely free of the taint (although the father may well come back at some later time to transmit the contagion through an attack, thereby infecting his own child).

If it is the mother who bears the scourge of true lycanthropy, however, the offspring cannot be so lucky as to escape the taint. There is still a 50 percent chance that any offspring will be a true lycanthrope, inheriting the full form of the condition. If this does not come to pass, however, the child is not completely spared: instead of becoming a true lycanthrope, it becomes an infected, one. Thus, every offspring of a lycanthropic mother will suffer one form or the other of the scourge.

Transfiguration is the term I apply to a werebeast's ability to change forms, or aspects. With few exceptions, a true lycanthrope has three aspects, any of which it can adopt at wilt. In contrast, an infected lycanthrope normally displays but two forms (to the best of my knowledge). Furthermore, the true tycanthrope is generally unaffected by the triggers that initiate transfiguration in infected lycanthropes. Thus, a true werewolf need never fear that the full moon will trigger an unwanted transfiguration.

It is important to stress that the actual process of transfiguration is not typically a rending, burning agony for true lycanthropes, but it is often so for the pathologic variety. In fact, many of the true lycanthropes with which I have spoken (before destroying them) have claimed that the experience is one of transcendent ecstacy.

Furthermore, true lycanthropes retain all of their mental faculties while in any of their forms. At no point do they forget what occurs when not in human aspect, nor do they lose control of their actions. In addition, they always retain their immunities and most of their abilities.

The first aspect of a true lycanthrope is human (or demihuman, of course), and the human aspect is characteristic of the individual. In other words, when in human form, it will always look the same. A werebeast cannot use the transfiguration to alter its human appearance or create disguises.

To an astute observer, certain characteristics of the true werebeast's human form can provide hints of the individual's inhuman nature. Almost invariably the human form shows one or more bestial features: slightly pronounced canine teeth, unusually bushy brows which meet above the nose, slightly pointed ears, abnormally pronounced body hair, hair on the inside of the wrist and on the palm, or perhaps exaggerated finger- or toe-nails, for example. Furthermore, many true lycanthropes have overly long forefingers, equal in length to the second finger of each hand.

Of course, it should be pointed out that none of these physical traits is sufficient to incontrovertibly label a subject as a werebeast. I have personally met folk who have never so much as seen a lycanthrope, yet they themselves exhibited one or several of these telltale signs. In truth, I feel somewhat uncomfortable over having listed these apparent signs at all, since they can be (and have been) misused to accuse innocents of being werebeasts.

The second form that any true lycanthrope can assume is that of the beast. In this aspect, the individual appears as an animal. Again, the type of animal and the specific details of its appearance are characteristic of the individual. Details such as eye color, pelt markings, and other distinguishing features do not change, which makes it possible for an astute observer to distinguish between individuals, just as an owner of hounds can tell the difference between two members of the same breed.

A true lycanthrope's animal aspect is usually larger than average, when compared to normal animals of the same type. Remember, however, that there is a wide variability in sizes among natural animal populations.

While it is true that lycanthropes in animal aspect are larger than the average for that species, it is not always true that werebeasts are larger than all other specimens. If a werewolf is leading a pack of timber wolves, the lycanthrope need not automatically be the largest creature in the pack. (Wererats pose a special case: their secondary aspect resembles a giant rat, not a normal rodent. With that caveat, my remarks above still hold, with wererats frequently appearing as larger-than-average giant rats.)

Many tales and legends claim that lycanthropes in their secondary form can be distinguished from natural animals by their sense of intelligence, unnatural wisdom, and anomalous watchfulness. This can be true in some cases, but only when the werebeast wants the observer to discern its true nature. True lycanthropes in their animal aspect retain their full intelligence, which makes them much more intelligent and aware than natural animals that may surround them. Yet the monsters are also in touch with their animalistic nature - the beast within - in the form of natural senses and instincts. They can, if they so wish, allow these senses and instincts to overshadow their human intelligence and thus behave identically to a natural animal. This knack for subterfuge makes it exceedingly difficult to distinguish a werebeast from a normal animal.

It is important to point out the fallacies in some legends and tales. While it is true that lycanthropes in animal aspect can still understand the languages of mankind, it is not true that they can speak them. The anatomy and physiology of animals precludes this. For example, the throat and mouth of a rat is incapable of human speech; thus, so is a wererat in animal aspect. (The wererat would be able to both speak and understand the limited communication of natural rats, however.) Similarly, while in animal aspect most werebeasts have neither hands nor fingers, and thus cannot easily manipulate their environment. Accordingly, those tales which describe werewolves in wolf form opening intricate locks or latches are most obviously fantastical.

It seems obvious that natural animals can distinguish a werebeast in animal aspect from one of their own kind. Natural animals' responses to werebeasts vary quite widely, however. Pack-oriented or herd-oriented creatures will usually cede dominance of the group to the werebeast. Thus, wolves will almost always signal their submission to a werewolf in their midst and allow the lycanthrope to lead the pack. Trained animals such as domesticated dogs will be more likely to react with unease or even distress if a werebeast is in the area. Naturally solitary animals will usually respond by avoiding werebeasts in animal aspect.

As an aside, there are many tales in which faithful house pets detect the inhuman nature of true lycanthropes in human aspect, and react by growling, whining, or even attacking. I can neither support nor deny these contentions. I have seen no evidence on either side of the issue.

It was a travesty of justice, of course. While I can well understand the townsfolk's fear over the wereboar's predations, I could never sanction their response to that fear.

That response was hysteria, pure and simple. They needed someone on which to vent their rage and their terror. They selected the hermit who Uued on the outskirts of the uillage. nicknamed the "terrible old man", he was actually a harmless soul, cursed by diminishing mental faculties. Encroaching senility made him something of a curmudgeon. and he had earned the enmity of many of the villagers. His appearance was unkempt: his hair was wild, his clothing ragged, his teeth discolored and crooked. All in all, his appearance could well be described as feral, and that was all the villagers needed.

Their response was brutal in its immediacy. To this day I blame myself for not acting fast enough to stop it. But before I even knew what was happening, the old man was writhing in terminal anguish, impaled on the sharpened stake the villagers had set up in the square. It did not take the villagers long to realize their mistake. The night after the old man's grisly end, the wereboar was on the hunt again...

The true werebeast's third aspect - half man, half beast - is indeed the most dreadful. This is the form most commonly associated with true lycanthropes in tale and legend. The man-beast has the features of both human and animal forms, creating a horrifying, unnatural blend.

The actual details of the man-beast aspect vary from phenotype to phenotype, and even from individual to individual within a single phenotype. Any given individual will always look the same in his or her tertiary aspect, however.

In general, the body's overall form is humanoid, although there may be noticeable differences in musculature, The head closely resembles that of the animal, but with some disturbingly human features. The eyes are typically human in appearance, albeit frequently bloodshot and glaring - malignant intelligence seems to gleam within them. The entire body is usually covered in fur, which is similar in color and texture to that of the natural animal. The pelt is typically thicker around the head and shoulders, especially at the back of the neck. Hands and feet usually sport elongated nails - not quite claws, but definitely reminiscent of them, and capable of inflicting gruesome wounds.

The tertiary form always has characteristics symbolic of the phenotypical animal. Thus, if the natural animal type is powerful, then the man-beast form based on it will also be powerful, as in the case of werebears for example. If the animal type is exceptionally agile, then the man-beast form will reflect this, too, and thus wererats are slender, fast-moving things. It is interesting to point out that this characteristic is based more on symbolism than anything else. If the animal type is symbolic of some attribute, whether it actually possesses it, then the man-beast form will incorporate that attribute into its appearance.

True lycanthropes in man-beast aspect retain the ability to use language. Their voices are usually harsh and growling, however. The creatures also retain their full dexterity in man-beast form, and thus can manipulate their environment easily.

This is the dreaded disease described in hundreds of folktales, the cursed affliction that turns an innocent victim into a ravening beast. No race or sex is immune; it is a plight to which every man, woman, and child is susceptible.

Unlike true werebeasts, infected lycanthropes are not born with their affliction. Their condition more closely resembles a disease, in that it can be contracted and passed on. If the victim is very fortunate, it can even be cured, though not as any ordinary disease might be (see Chapter Four: The Pathologic Scourge for a more indepth discussion of cures). This form of lycanthropy can be acquired through contact with the saliva, blood, or other secretion of either a true werebeast or another infected werebeast (and perhaps even that of a maledictive one).

Compilers' Note: It seems that, once again, Dr. Van Richten's theories have proved to be the truth. My sister and I have found, evidence that supports the Doctor's position that maledictive werebeasts can indeed infect hapless innocents.

Simply touching a werebeast or its bfood will not transmit the contagion, however. Conventional wisdom - which I have found little evidence to discount - is that the infective agent must be insinuated into the bloodstream of a victim through some wound. (A handful of legends suggest that more intimate contact may convey the affliction, but this is beyond the range of my expertise.) The chance of a victim succumbing to the scourge seems to be proportional to the severity of the wounds inflicted.

As described in a subsequent chapter, infected lycanthropes are (initially at least) unaware of their affliction. When in nonhuman aspect, they have the mentality of an animal, a ravening beast. Thus, infected lycanthropes cannot have the same kind of distinct society enjoyed by true lycanthropes.

The offspring of a father who is an infected werebeast does not automatically suffer the same affliction. Remember, there is no genetic or heritable component to this form of the scourge. However, a child born to a mother who is infected with lycanthropy will be similarly blighted. This is because the intimate, nourishing bond between the mother and her unborn child. The offspring does not, strictly speaking, inherit the affliction; rather, he is infected before birth. This distinction makes little difference to the innocent child, except that a cure is still possible. If the infected mother is cured of her lycanthropy before the child comes to term, the poor offspring is still susceptible to the affliction. In my estimation, such a child must undergo its own cure if it would be rid of the scourge.

While most true lycanthropes have three forms, an infected lycanthrope has only two: human or demihuman, and either animal or hybrid. Further, unlike the true lycanthrope, an infected werebeast has no control over its transfiguration. Each infected individual has a characteristic "trigger" - an event, circumstance, or set of circumstances that initiates the transfiguration. The archetypal trigger for werewolves is, of course, the full moon, but there are many more possibilities. Sometimes extreme emotion triggers the change - usually anger or fear, but sometimes (tragically) even love. In other individuals, the trigger is physical pain or proximity to violence. And for some particularly unfortunate victims, every sunset or sunrise may bring about the metamorphosis.

For an infected werebeast, the experience of transfiguration is usually one of tearing, rending agony. Such is the nature of the affliction, however, that the victim almost always suppresses all memories of this agonizing pain.

This is, of course, the natural and original form of the infected victim. According to many folktales, the same signs by which a true lycanthrope can be identified - the long forefinger, slightly bestial features, etc., - also mark the victim of infection. My own studies neither support nor contradict this contention; in truth, I have found little evidence on one side of the issue or the other.

Certainly, a few of the infected lycanthropes I have encountered have shown progressive development of bestial features. Yet I am not convinced that this progression was actually a result of the lycanthropy itself. Outside my study of lycanthropes, I have seen the appearance of an individual begin to change as his or her heart darkened through crime or sin. Perhaps that person's actions or desires attracted the attentions of some malign agency, which in turn caused the physical alteration. Or perhaps one's body can truly become a mirror of one's soul.

At any rate, if such physical changes can occur among those who are not lycanthropes, it seems quite possible that it could hold true for an infected lycanthrope as well. For this reason, I cannot embrace the widely held belief that infected lycanthropes will always, in time, display some physical manifestation of their curse. More likely, such a notion is no more than a feeble attempt at self-reassurance. And the disturbing truth is that one cannot directly detect the taint of lycanthropy until the transfiguration is actually triggered.

Fortunately for those who hunt the lycanthrope, other clues sometimes exist, pointing at the fearful truth. Most notably, infected lycanthropes often return to their primary aspect bearing wounds, bruises, or abrasions... which they cannot remember sustaining.

The secondary aspect of an infected lycanthrope can be either a normal animal or a man-beast similar to the true lycanthrope's tertiary form. Each infected individual has a characteristic secondary aspect and always assumes this form when the trigger condition occurs. There seems no way of predicting beforehand (that is, before the lycanthropy is acquired) what one's secondary aspect will be.

Compilers' Note: Further "researches" on our part have shown that, in about two of three cases, the infected lycanthrope will gain the secondary aspect ofthe werebeast that infected it. Also, in at least 4 of 5 cases, this secondary aspect is the animal form.

If the secondary aspect is an animal, it largely shares the features discussed for a true lycanthrope's animal form. Thus, it is larger than average for the animal type and frequently becomes the leader of a pack of tike creatures. A man-beast secondary aspect also largely conforms to the description provided earlier.

The important difference between infected and true lycanthropes is that the former do not retain their normal mentality when in their secondary aspect. Instead, they take on the personality - if that is the correct word - of a ravening, predatory animal. The beast within comes to the fore, taking control and suppressing all elements of the human character. The new personality incorporates elements of the phenotype's behavior. Thus, wereboars tend to be blindly aggressive, while wererats show more low cunning. In any event, the major elements of the secondary aspect's persona are aggression and hatred. The werebeast will kill anyone or anything it encounters, initially to feed, although it may still attack even if its appetite is totally sated.

It has frequently been stated and seems to be true that the preferred victims of an infected lycanthrope in secondary aspect are those individuals closest and most important to the werebeast when he is in human form. In other words, loved ones are the most likely to be harmed by the beast. This tragedy seems to confirm the old saw that love and hate are closely related emotions.

When he returns to his natural form, the werebeast rarely remembers any details of his actions while in his secondary aspect. If he does recall anything at all, it will have a hazy, indistinct, cast to it, much as a nightmare is vaguely recalled upon waking. In fact, many infected lycanthropes believe at least initially that such memories are nightmares. Only when they find that reality matches elements from their dreams might they realize what is happening, and not alt individuals understand (or admit that they understand) even then. Humans have an almost infinite capacity for self-delusion.

Maledictive is the term that I have coined to describe those unfortunate victims who suffer from lycanthropy as the result of a curse. While powerful magics such as a wish might also induce lycanthropy, such maleficent enchantments are fortunately very rare. On the other hand, a curse that somehow summons the beast within is not so uncommon that it can be ignored.

In the lands with which I am familiar, maledictive lycanthropy is a very real risk of which all residents and visitors must be aware. While I have heard travelers speak of distant lands where curses generally are not strong enough to cause this affliction, I myself have never visited a place.

Three general forms of curse exist, each of which may result in lycanthropy. These can cause a condition that is indistinguishable from the pathologic form of lycanthropy with one exception: the victim of such a curse may or may not be able to infect others with his contagion.

This is an incidence of a dark desire, where an individual lusts for some power or boon, and that lust is acted on in a transport of terrible evil. In effect, this situation is a kind of cry for help, which some mysterious and malign agencies wilt sometimes grant, but always in a way that causes suffering and despair in the long run for the recipient.

I know the details of only one curse of this kind (which is not to say that other cases do not exist, of course). The curse's recipient was a man named Talbot, the servitor of a petty noble in Darkon. Talbot was a soft-spoken, sensitive man who seemed cowed by every circumstance, and particularly by the reactions of others. He appeared incapable of standing up for his own rights; an impotent sort who could not defend himself against the anger of others. If blamed for an act he had not committed, he typically hunched his shoulders, turning in on himself. In other words, he acted as though he were crippled with guilt for acts he had never performed.

In contrast, his master Lord Meritu was a verbal and emotional bully. Meritu verbally abused Talbot at every opportunity, and while virtually any other person would eventually have responded with anger, Talbot simply endured the torment. The servitor seemed incapable of expressing the natural anger (and even hatred) that Meritu would certainly engender in another man.

Eventually, a tremendous internal conflict arose between Talbot's self-effacing mien and his unquenched rage, which ultimately led to a tragic conclusion. Rather than facing the author of his misfortune, Meritu himself. Talbot vented his fury upon Meritu's young children. In short, Talbot poisoned these innocents and then ran off to the countryside.

Although Talbot never expressed it, his actions were the result of a desire to express his indignant wrath. Apparently some dark agency responded to this unspoken cry for help by turning Talbot into an infected lycanthrope. He became a wererat, in fact, with sunset as the trigger of his transfiguration. Now, every evening when the sun goes down, Talbot is finally able to express the rage within him. Unfortunately, however, he has no control over who becomes the victim on this rage...

The fact that infected lycanthropes frequently turn on those they love makes this affliction the logical result of a curse of vengeance. Although I have yet to personally encounter such a case, I have heard of almost a dozen Incidents, all of which follow similar lines. An individual kills or seriously harms the loved ones of another, and in a transport of hatred this other cries out for a curse to fall upon the killer. The killer, in a form of divine justice perhaps, is then blighted with lycanthropy. In all of those cases, among the first victims of the new werebeast were his or her loved ones. However, in three rather unusual episodes, the person who brought down the curse eventually fell victim to the werebeast as well: such is the ironic justice of curses.

Magics such as a wish spell or the more specific divine curse and ancient curse spells also can inflict lycanthropy. As many spellcasters know, the intent of a wish is frequently perverted in some dire manner. Thus, when a wish causes lycanthropy, it is quite likely that this outcome was not what the caster intended.

Neither the divine curse nor the ancient curse spell suffers the same risk of perversion of intent. However, for the curse to take effect, the casting priest's deity must approve it. Only the most malignant deities would countenance the infliction of lycanthropy on anyone.

Most curses of vengeance and magical curses include some kind of escape clause. If the action in this clause is performed, the victim is freed of the taint of lycanthropy. This is not necessarily the case for others who have contracted the dreaded affliction from the original curse victim. The fate of these secondary victims depends in large part upon the details of the original curse. Their own affliction may end the moment the curse is lifted from the original victim. If the original curse is particularly powerful, however, this may not happen. Once the original victim is free of the curse, all secondary victims can potentially be cured, Just as if the original source of the affection had been slain.

Most maledictive lycanthropes resemble infected lycanthropes in all particulars. Otherwise, no set of characteristics is typical of the maledictive class; each curse can be unique. For that reason, and because maledictive lycanthropes are comparatively rare, I shall confine my discussions in subsequent chapters to heritable and pathologic lycanthropy.

Lycanthropes are men and women who assume the shape of animals. They are not to be confused with other shapechangers such as wolfweres and jackalweres, which are animals that can masquerade as men and women. Despite their superficial likenesses, both types of creatures are profoundly different. All of the discussions in this volume concern lycanthropes.

Animalistic shapechangers do enjoy some magical benefits similar to those shown by lycanthropes. For example, jackalweres are harmed only by enchanted weapons or by those forged from cold iron. They also have the ability to change at will between three (or, in some rare cases, only two) aspects. Surely, some sages argue, this makes them kin to werebeasts. Not so, I suspect. The major distinction is that shapechangers pass on no contagion to victims of their attacks. It is impossible to contract lycanthropy from a jackalwere, and that is the vital difference between the creatures.

I believe that there might, once, have been some kinship between lycanthropes and other shapechangers. Many centuries ago, it may be that a union between a lycanthrope in animal aspect and a normal animal gave rise to these beastweres. Unfortunately, there are few means to test and validate my hypothesis.

How did the blight of lycanthropy first come into the world? Many sages and scholars have addressed this problem. And many more legends - most quite literally incredible - have proposed more or less far-fetched answers.

One theory, embraced by many true lycanthropes, is that the creatures naturally evolved from normal, nonlycanthropic humans and demihumans. The symbolism incorporated into this view is compelling, if not totally convincing. First came the beast, in the form of proto-humanity, the precursors from which humankind arose. Then came humanity itself, in which the beast still exists, yet is suppressed and driven deep into the subconscious. And finally comes the lycanthrope, in which the beast and the socialized human are united in a balanced form. The beast is no longer denied or suppressed; instead, it is accepted, welcomed, cherished... utilized, instead of conflicting duality, there is now unity. How this can not be considered progress and evolution, the proponents of this idea argue.

Then there are scholars, many of a theological background, who argue very much the opposite. Lycanthropes are the result of devolution, these sages propose. If progressing from animal to socialized human was evolution, how could releasing the suppressed beast be anything but regression?

I find myself unable to fully accept either proposition. The latter position argues from ethics and morals, and hence is somewhat suspect. Not that I discount morals and ethics; quite the opposite, I consider them to be of overreaching importance. Yet morals and ethics are based on individual choice. They are not laws of nature, and the path from unethical or amoral action to what we consider civilized behavior is not a natural or preordained progression.

The former position also lacks empirical substance. In my view of evolution, the next logical step for humanity would be a super-race, in which the beast is not present at all.

The beast is loose. It prowls the night around my village. At first it fed only on livestock, but now its tastes have - matured. In the past fortnight, full seven of my friends and neighbors have fallen to the beast, their throats torn out by its ripping teeth.

And yet, the nighttime landscape is not the only place the beast prowls, it haunts the internal landscape of my dreams as well. Is there some mental link between me and. this fell creature? I must accept that there is, since my dreams seem to echo with details of the foul murders - details I could not know were our minds not somehow linked.

After considering the facts and speculations, I bold that true lycanthropy, that form which is genetically heritable, arose originally as an infection similar to the pathologic lycanthropy we see in the world today.

I believe that the infective agent involved was a magically active parasite - perhaps akin to the tiny, unseen entities to which some sages attribute the spread of disease. I imagine, although I have little enough evidence for my position, that this parasite arose naturally, although perhaps in a time and place where the magical influx was somehow greater. It infected humans and demihumans alike, causing behavioral symptoms similar to those of hydrophobia, or rabies, which in effect unchained the beast within its victims. Yet since it was also magically active, it had other, more pervasive effects. In the manner of sympathetic magic, as the beast was released from within the victim, so did his body alter to reflect his symbolic nature.

At first I imagine that the destruction and suffering caused by those initial victims was great in the extreme, for in the first flush of its rage the beast cares little for others. In its earliest form, I believe that the infective agent proved to be a generally unsuccessful parasite, in that it caused the death of its hosts - not in the way of most other diseases, where sickness causes systemic damage that eventually proves fatal. Rather, the parasite led to death by forcing those around the victim to slay him in defense of their own lives.

Yet parasites adapt, given time. The lycanthropy agent probably did so, possibly by lessening the intensity of the bestial rages it caused. It allowed its victims to retain some of their intelligence, or perhaps mere animal cunning. At this point, I imagine that the victims of the parasite began to form small communities of their own, analogous to wolf packs or hunting groups.

This allowed the infectious agent to undergo its most significant and pernicious adaptation. Gp to this point, I envision that the parasite was passed on in much the same way as today's pathologic lycanthropy: through the saliva or perhaps the perspiration or other secretions of a lycanthrope, insinuated into the bloodstream of a victim. Now, however, a new vector of infection presented itself. The infected victims were able to breed.

Initially, the blight of lycanthropy was passed on from mother to offspring, due to the mixing of blood in the womb. In essence, progeny of lycanthrope parents were infected before birth by this time.

This, too, changed with time, or so I believe. Eventually the infective agent, the parasite, became incorporated into its victims (now its hosts). Eventually it became incapable of existing in its true form, separate from the host. In essence, it became a natural, innate characteristic of its hosts, passed on from generation to generation, now according to the laws and patterns of heredity and not of infection, much as are hair color and other attributes.

At this point, I believe that the various phenotypes of true werebeasts split off from the human and demihuman races. Werebeasts, regardless of their ability to assume human or demihuman form, are not human or demihuman. They have become totally distinct races. Some taxonomists consider them as distinct species, but I do not fully share this approach. True werebeasts can interbreed with humans and demihumans, producing fertile progeny, which implies that they are not distinct species after all.

Such is my belief, at least. It seems to me very unlikely that the truth of this theory will ever be determined. Not even the deities have been of assistance; in fact, they have been singularly unforthcoming when I have questioned them via commissioned spells.

In practice, of course, it hardly matters how lycanthropy first arose. The fact that it exists, and that it remains quite disturbingly prevalent, is sufficient for most people.

Some important distinctions can be drawn between lycanthropes that exist on the Prime Material Plane and those that are born or infected specifically in the Demiplane of Dread. First, the victim of a Prime Material lycanthrope has various options by which he or she might avoid the affliction. As described in Monstrous Manual tome, if the victim eats belladonna within an hour of the attack, there's a 25% chance that this will cure the affliction (or, more precisely, stop it from occurring in the first place). This possibility of reprieve isn't available to victims of Ravenloft werebeasts. Victims of such a monster's attack can certainly eat belladonna (and suffer the 1d4 days of incapacitation that this poison inflicts), but there's exactly zero chance that it will prevent the onset of lycanthropy, should the die roll (2% per point of damage suffered) indicate infection. The PCs don't have to realize this, of course.

Furthermore, curirng lycanthropy is considerably easier outside Ravenloft. Outside the Demiplane of Dread, all that's required is the casting of a remoue curse on the night of a full moon (or on the night preceding or following a full moon), if the infected character makes a successful save vs. polymorph, the curse is broken.

Not so within the Demiplane; the process is much more involved. First, the original source of the contagion, the true lycanthrope that infected the victim or started the chain of contagion, must first be destroyed. If that creature is not destroyed, no cure of its victims (or its victims' victims) is possible.

Once the master lycanthrope is dead, the victim must perform a ritual of piety and penance to cleanse himself. The specifics of this ritual are left to the DM, to be determined by the circumstances and character in question.

Next, the victim must assume his bestial form (this form must somehow be triggered). While in this form, a priest must cast the following spell upon the victim: atonement, cure disease, and remove curse. During this time, the victim's player must make a saving throw vs. death magic (due to the excruciating pain). Success indicates the cure is complete. Failure means that the victim is likely doomed to the dual existence of a lycanthrope for the duration of his life. in many cases, this life is fortunately brief, as the priest or other attendants commonly slay the victim on the spot. In death, the victim regains his human form on final time.

Additionally, 10th-level rangers have the ability to create an herbal draught that has a chance to cure lycanthropy. This ability is defined in Appendix of the Domains of Dread book and may be used to supplement or replace the rules above.

Furthermore, there's more variability among Ravenloft werebeasts than in those found elsewhere. Not all lycanthropes are triggered by the full moon, and not all are vulnerable to silver. Certainly each infected lycanthrope has a trigger, and each werebeast (regardless of classification) has a nonmagical vulnerability. However, in the Demiplane of Dread it's much harder to predict what these elements are.

Finally, infected lycanthropes in Ravenloft are much more likely to choose friends and loved ones as their victims. Outside the Demiplane, werebeasts target either personal friends or enemies, making no distinction between the two. (As stated in the Monstrous Manual book, all that matters is the strength of the love - or hate - binding werebeast and victim.) Such is the dark, horrifying nature of Ravenloft that friends, family, and lovers are much more likely to suffer.