Van Richten's Guide to Werebeasts - The Pathologic Scourge

She was a charming lady, to be sure, and not at all the shy creature we had expected our old friend Edward to marry. Even though she was expecting, and very near her term, she showed mr an extraordinary degree of hospitality. Still, some memories of this visit were quite unsettling.

Here is one such example. You have no doubt heard that women who are with child may experience cravings for strange foodstuffs - pickled vegetables and the like. I was still surprised, however; when one night, unable to sleep, I was walking the house and found the lady, my hostess, in the kitchen, gnawing hungrily on a haunch of raw meat!

- From a letter penned by Rasten Fefoeg

The Pathologic Scourge

Pathologic lycanthropy, the form acquired through a werebeast's attack, is a blight unequaled in its horror. In this chapter I shall focus on the nature and stages of this accursed condition, from its contraction to (the gods be willing) its cure.

Though I have used the word "human" to describe the primary form of werebeasts, it is well known that the so-called demihuman races also may contract the scourge of lycanthropy. Specifically, elves, half-elves, gnomes, halflings, and dwarves are all susceptible to the fury of the beast. But what about other races? Can they, too, acquire this heinous affliction? It is an interesting question, and one that allows for no simple, straightforward answer.

In theory at least, any living, fully mammalian, intelligent creature that matches the humanoid body form can succumb to the dreaded lycanthropic affliction. This is not to say that any intelligent creature with two arms and two legs may be stricken. In my estimation, creatures who are a great deal larger than humans (such as giants) do not acquire lycanthropy. Further, creatures who are inherently and highly magical seem immune, as do beings whose biochemical processes differ significantly from our own (thus presenting a hostile environment to the contagion). Of late I have begun to study certain fiendish and otherworldly creatures who truly are the stuff of nightmares, come to haunt us in the day. They, too, appear to be completely immune to lycanthropy.

Compiler's Note: Please see future volumes of Dr. Van Richten's compiled texts for these discussions.

This immunity does not extend to any of the more common humanoid races, however, if my research is correct, the following races are indeed susceptible to lycanthropy: ores, goblins, hobgoblins, kobolds, ogres, bugbears, gnolls, and even the dark-natured elves, who dwell far below our surface world.

These humanoid races do not appear to be uniformly susceptible to all werebeast attacks, however. To a human or demihuman victim, the phenotype of the werebeast who transmits the contagion does not affect the viability of the disease. (A human attacked by a werebear is no less likely to acquire lycanthropy than a human attacked by a werewolf.) In contrast, other humanoid races appear more likely to acquire lycanthropy from just one or more particular phenotypes, while infected folk representing other phenotypes are unknown to their race. Often, the humanoid's own lore and beliefs support this theory. Kobolds, for example, are particularly fearful of werebats. In my opinion, this fear is not unfounded, but it is the result of actual experience. While I have never seen a kobold take the shape of a wolf, I have indeed seen several fall prey to a werebat's assault.

Somewhat predictably, an infected person's race can affect the appearance of the werebeast's secondary aspect. For example, lycanthropes of races that possess certain special abilities or characteristics might retain those characteristics even after transfiguration.

Below, I have set out what little I have learned about this topic. Note that these observations are far from exhaustive, and far from categorical. I may well be mistaken on several of the points raised, or perhaps the situation is more variable than I currently believe it to be.

Bugbear: To the best of my knowledge, infected bugbears have no unusual characteristics in animal or hybrid form.

Drow: It would seem that drow lycanthropes retain something of their resistance to magic, regardless of form.

Dwarf: Lycanthropic dwarves retain their ability to detect sloping passages, regardless of the aspect they hold.

Elf: In any form, infected elves appear highly resistant to sleep and charm spells.

Gnome: The animal or hybrid form of an infected gnome is generally slightly smaller than the average for a particular phenotype. This size differential seems not to exceed the natural variability of werebeasts, however.

Goblin: Like gnomes, goblins infected with lycanthropy tend to exhibit a smaller than average animal or "gnome-beast" form. Again, this differential is within the natural variability among individuals.

Half-Elf: Nothing distinguishes the infected half-elf from others of the same phenotype.

Halfling: Halfling-based lycanthropes are generally smaller than the average for a particular phenotype. However, this slight difference is not a telltale sign of race.

Human: Human lycanthropes have no unusual characteristics (since this is the race against which all others are compared).

Kender: Kender-based lycanthropes are generally smaller than the average for a particular phenotype. As with gnomes and goblins, this differential falls within the natural variability among individuals.

Kobold: Among members of a particular phenotype, the animal or hybrid form of an infected kobold is always smaller than average. This size differential is slightly greater than natural variability.

Ogre: An infected ogre in animal or hybrid form tends to be slightly larger than other members of the same phenotype. The ogre werebeast also seems considerably more resilient and more resistant to damage.

Orc: Lycanthropes based on orcs appear to have no unusual characteristics in their secondary aspect, except, perhaps, an unusual propensity for drooling.

Troll: Troll lycanthropes are generally larger than average for their phenotype when in animal or hybrid form. Also, they seem at least partially able to regenerate damage inflicted by weapons to which the creatures are vulnerable. Thus, werehunters might face the daunting spectacle of a troll-based werewolf spontaneously healing wounds inflicted by magical or silver weapons.

The vast majority of victims infected with lycanthropy will match the phenotype of the creature that infected them. I have heard, however, of the occasional "sport" - a case where this "conservation of phenotype" is not upheld. For example, a person infected by a werewolf might transfigure into a werefox, or into a wererat, or into another phenotype altogether.

Several explanations for such flukes are possible. First, the number of cases is so small (fewer than one in several thousand) that this could well be a mistake in observation. Second, it is possible that the victims were actually infected by two different lycanthropes. (This is discussed under "Multiple Infections" below.) And third, perhaps the maledictive form of lycanthropy was involved.

A person who acquires lycanthropy from another infected werebeast will share the same trigger condition as the monster that defiled him. This is common knowledge.

What, then about the victims of true lycanthropes? True werebeasts traditionally have complete control over matters of transfiguration, and thus have no trigger condition. Where, then, do their victims' triggers come from?

I propose that each and every lycanthrope, whether true or infected, has an innate trigger condition associated with it. However, this trigger is exhibited, or "expressed", only by infected werebeasts. It is a fact that victims infected by a particular true lycanthrope will share the same trigger condition, which argues to me that the infecting creature passes it on as part of the affliction.

Furthermore, true lycanthropes who are siblings pass on the same trigger condition to their victims. This does not mean, however, that a person infected by a true lycanthrope can expect to suffer the same trigger as victims of that iycanthrope's parents. The litter of two true lycanthropes may carry the father's trigger, the mother's trigger, or an entirely new trigger. It seems inescapable, however, that with any pairing of true werebeasts, all resulting offspring will transmit the same trigger condition.

Though rare, it is possible for a single victim to be attacked by - and be infected by - two or more werebeasts of a different phenotype. Personally, I know of five such cases. For example, both a werebear and a werewolf might infect a person. What is the result of such multiple infections? What animal aspect does the victim assume upon transfiguration?

It is interesting to note that virtually no folktales or myths discuss this matter, and those few which do mention the issue provide little detail. 1 know of only two exceptions. Both tales originated from the same region (Kartakass), but each presents a different solution to the puzzle. The first story claims that a multiple infection results in a deranged lycanthrope of mixed phenotype (an unholy biend of bear and wolf in my preceding example), which immediately and invariably flies into bloodlust upon transfiguration. The other tale asserts that the phenotype of the last lycanthrope to infect the victim is dominant, and that the afflicted person will always transfigure into this phenotype, regardless of the time elapsed between infections.

My own research has proved to my satisfaction that the second tale is closer to the truth. Even so, there are complexities that are not even hinted at by this story.

The fate of a person infected by more than one phenotype appears to hinge on a single factor: whether or not the victim has undergone his first transfiguration. If he has not, the last contagion to enter the victim's system becomes dominant. Specifically, it determines the phenotype of the victim.

Let us imagine, for example, that a man is first infected by a werebear. Soon thereafter, before the man has ever changed shape, a werewolf attacks and infects him. The unfortunate will take the form of a wolf (or man-wolf hybrid), not that of a bear.

This does not mean, however, that the contagion transmitted by the werebear has no effect whatsoever. Though the man will never resemble a bear, the trigger condition carried by the werebear does apply. Instead of causing a change to bear shape, however, the trigger brings about the transfiguration into a wolf (or man-wolf hybrid). Thus a victim of multiple infections will be susceptible to ail{he triggers associated with the lycanthropes that infected him, though he will assume only the shape dictated by the most recent infection. (Again, this situation occurs only if the multiple infections were acquired before the victim's first transfiguration.)

And what if the victim is infected after his first transfiguration? Once I deemed such multiple infections impossible. In the overwhelming majority of cases, an infected lycanthrope simply cannot acquire another version of lycanthropy after the beast within has been unleashed. I have recently encountered an exception, however. A werewolf first attacked the unfortunate involved, and he became a wolf at the next full moon. Thereafter, he acquired a second infection from a wereboar, with the equinox as his trigger condition. The victim responded to that trigger too, becoming a boar, which was subsequently slain with an oaken spear, ending the boy's misery.

Note that an individual infected multiple times need only be cured once to be free of lycanthropy. It does not matter how many times he was infected. This is fortunate, considering how arduous the curative process is, and considering the unlikeliness of its success. All lycanthropes that infected the victim must be destroyed as part of this curative process.

In my travels, several people have asked me whether a true, or pathologic, werebeast attacked by another lycanthrope would suffer any effects akin to the infection that humans suffer. It is an interesting question, and one to which I do not have a categorical answer.

In alt likelihood, such an infection is not possible. I believe that any lycanthrope who attacks a true werebeast will inflict physical damage, and that is all. Yet, from time to time, folktales spark my interest in the subject. I have heard several stories concerning true lycanthropes that do not have complete control over their transfiguration. Like other true werebeasts, these creatures can change aspect at will. But sometimes they also will transfigure against their will, in response to some external trigger condition. They can regain whatever form they wish - if not immediately, then within a score of heartbeats - yet even a momentary shift can destroy a life-long masquerade.

Are these creatures true lycanthropes that have been partially infected by other lycanthropes, contracting their attackers' trigger conditions? I cannot say for sure. Perhaps the loss of control stems from another cause entirely. Yet, it is an interesting hypothesis, and one that I intend to investigate over the next several years.

I have made something of a small study into the conditions, or triggers, that cause transfiguration in infected lycanthropes. Such triggers typically fall into two large categories, which I have dubbed "symbolic" and "physiological".

Symbolic triggers are events that have some allegorical or figurative connection to the nature of lycanthropy in general and to the transfiguration itself. Physiological triggers are events that cause some change in the lycanthrope's body - a change which in turn could reasonably be expected to initiate a more drastic physical alteration. Below I shall describe each category, as well as those exceptional triggers which refuse to comply with either definition.

Many of the so-called "symbolic" triggers define or represent change. They symbolize a transition, often drastic, from one state to another. So powerful and so magical is this symbolism that when some facet of the environment undergoes a change, so too does the infected lycanthrope. An archetypal example is a sunset or sunrise - the transition from day to night or from night to day. Sleep is another symbolic trigger, for it represents an altered state of consciousness and the journey from reality to the realm of nightmares.

However, not every symbolic trigger represents a clear change from one strictly defined condition to its antithesis. Other symbolic triggers reflect a more general change or transition. For instance, in most lands the changing phases of the moon serve to measure the passage of time, and the moon itself has often come to symbolize passing time. Thus it should come as little surprise to learn that a particular phase of the moon acts as trigger for many werebeasts. According to popular legends, the full moon is the archetypal trigger. I have found, however, that virtually every phase of the moon, from new to full, through one-quarter waxing through three-quarters waning, successfully triggers certain werebeasts.

In like manner, other conditions symbolic of passing time can act as lycanthropic triggers. Some werebeasts respond to changing seasons. Others respond to astronomical events, such as eclipses or the movements of wandering stars. Even the first snowfall or another "weather landmark" may trigger a particular creature.

I must emphasize that in the previous examples, the victim need not actually witness the symbolic trigger for its effect to take hold. In other words, the stereotypical werewolf does not have to see the full moon to become a ravening beast; the simple fact that the moon is full triggers the change. Thus, a werewolf could not prevent disaster by locking himself in a windowless basement for three nights each month - unless, of course, those locks were exceedingly secure.

Symbolic triggers also include conditions or events which somehow represent the death and destruction left in the wake of a lycanthrope. Such triggers are comparatively rare, however (that is, few infected lycanthropes respond to them). Examples include seeing the color red, which is symbolic of blood, or black, which represents death. Other examples are as follows: being plunged into total darkness, which is again symbolic of death; seeing or smelling blood; seeing combat or other overt violence; witnessing or experiencing emotional or covert violence; and passing through or by a graveyard.

I recognize that some of these triggers could alternatively be classed as physiological events. For example, is the scent of blood a symbolic trigger, or does it stimulate the hunger of the beast within and thus qualify as physiological? And is being plunged into darkness symbolic, or is the natural surprise and fear it enjoins the actual trigger? I do not have all the answers. Ultimately, however, such distinctions do not appear as important as the recognition that such triggers exist.

Compared to symbolic triggers, these conditions or events are more direct, less metaphysical, and hence easier to understand. Many of them engender strong and clearly defined changes in the body, even when that body is riot infected with lycanthropy. For example, both extreme fear and extreme anger are common physiological triggers. Even among normal humans, both conditions bring about profound changes in the way the body functions. Muscles tense, pupils dilate, and the heart quickens its pace. Breathing becomes shallow and rapid, and blood is redirected toward specific muscles or organs. In essence, the body undergoes significant changes to prepare itself for fight or flight.

It seems to me quite logical that such profound changes can and do trigger the transfiguration in some werebeasts. Perhaps one of the natural chemicals which flood the bloodstream reacts with the infective agent, causing it to initiate a metamorphosis. If my interpretation is correct, then the action of such triggers can be explained solely in chemical and biological terms.

Let us look at several other common physiological triggers. Strong emotions of any kind, as well as what we may euphemistically label "intense passion", cause noticeable physiological changes in the body. According to some sages, injury or even intense physical pain causes the body to release certain natural painkillers into the blood. I see no reason why any of these chemical changes could not trigger the transfiguration.

Perceptive readers will ask themselves a question that counts heavily against my arguments above: Why does each lycanthrope generally have only one trigger?

I fear I have no answer. If, as I have argued above, predominately chemical processes trigger the transfiguration, it would seem logical that all such processes would trigger all lycanthropes. In other words, since fear and anger have such similar physiological effects, why are some lycanthropes triggered only by one and not the other? Why are so very, very few triggered by both? Obviously, there may be much more to the matter of triggers than simple chemistry and biology.

I have recorded some trigger conditions that do not fit easily into either the symbolic or physiological groups. Some examples follow: seeing a particular animal, plant, or object; hearing a particular sound, word, phrase, or snatch of music; or casting or being the target of a particular class of magical spell (frequently healing magic).

To focus on specific instances, if a lycanthrope were triggered by sighting its own phenotypic animal (for example, a werewolf sighting a wolf), that would qualify as a symbolic trigger. However, not all animal-related triggers are so cut-and-dried. Where is the symholism involved in a wererat transfiguring when it sees a sea gull (as was the case with a merchant in Souragne)?

Similarly, if a lycanthrope were triggered by a musical melody that had great emotional significance for him (perhaps bringing back happy or sad memories of childhood), that would be a physiological trigger. Yet I met one unfortunate fellow who became a raging boar each time he heard Vistani violin music, despite the fact that he had never heard such music before his first transfiguration!

There are many folktales describing how a true lycanthrope automatically enjoys a form of innate control over all those infected lycanthropes it creates. These tales tell of ravening packs of werebeasts marauding through the countryside under the control of their true lycanthrope master.

Although tales attribute this power to all true lycanthropes, my own research indicates that it is far from universal. Certainly, some true werebeasts seem able to enslave, or at least guide the actions of, those infected victims they create. But by no means all, and perhaps not even the majority, enjoy this dark ability.

For those lycanthropes that can control their "infected progeny" (if I may use such a term), there seem to be several universal characteristics of this power. First, the true lycanthrope can control its progeny only when they are in secondary aspect. The creature has no influence whatsoever on their behavior while they are in human form.

Second, the controlling werebeast must itself be in its own secondary or tertiary aspect - that is, animal or man-beast - to effect such a control. I can only guess why this might be true, a matter of perceived kinship perhaps, but it seems to hold in all cases I have investigated.

Third, the control seems very tenuous. The controlling lycanthrope can guide its progeny's actions only in very general terms. It can prompt an attack against a certain target, or prevent one. It can keep its progeny quiet and calm, or send them ravening forth in a fury. Any more precise control appears to be beyond the true lycanthrope's abilities. As an analogy, the controlling werebeast has about as much control over its pack of progeny as a trusted leader has over a mob of humans. While such a leader can direct broad, unfocused responses, anything more specific is impossible.

These are the elements that all examples of control have in common. Now I shall discuss the factors that can differ from case to case.

In some cases, the true lycanthrope and its progeny can somehow sense each other's presence. As soon as a progeny creature transfigures into secondary form, it can sense where its creator is (as long as the werebeast is within some reasonable range, such as a handful of miles) and will head toward its master at its best speed. Similarly, the true lycanthrope can sometimes sense when its progeny have undergone a transfiguration, and roughly where they are within the same range limit. This ability obviously makes it easier for the progeny to gather into a pack. I would estimate that this occurs in perhaps twenty-five percent of cases where control exists. In an additional five percent of cases, this "locator sense" is unidirectional, not bi-directional (in other words, the progeny can sense their creator, but not vice versa; or the creator can sense its progeny, but not vice versa).

In certain rare cases, progeny will feel a kind of inexplicable kinship with their creator while both are in primary human aspect. Even though the victim does not know why, he will feel a propensity to trust and like the iycanthrope who infected him. Note that this is a propensity only; unless the creator behaves in an appropriate manner, the tendency will vanish over time. I have heard of one case where this propensity for trusting the creator werebeast was as strong and wide-ranging as a charm spell. This is based entirely on hearsay, however, and could well be incorrect.

Further tales describe how certain lycanthropes can trigger the transfiguration in all their progeny. The way most tales describe this ability, the true werebeast must be in the presence of its progeny, and then it simply has to will them to change. I have come to the conclusion that this is totally incorrect. No werebeast that I have studied can mentally command its progeny to transfigure. I can understand, however, where these tales come from.

Most true lycanthropes are intelligent, or at the very least, cunning in the extreme. It would not be difficult for a werebeast to discover what condition triggers its progeny. (Recall that each true werebeast seems to imbue all of its infected progeny with the same trigger condition; this was discussed earlier) When it has learned what this trigger is, it can certainly use this knowledge to its best advantage. If the trigger happens to be something it can orchestrate, such as hearing a particular sound or phrase of music, it could arrange a nasty surprise for a village by organizing a concert to which its progeny are invited and then making sure the trigger occurs!

Even if the creature has no desire to cause such a catastrophe, knowing the trigger it imbues might well come in handy should it ever be hunted. After all, who has better motivation to hunt down and destroy a werebeast than one of its infected progeny? (Refer to the section "Exterminating the Root" below.) Again, if the trigger is something it can orchestrate, it can turn one of its most fervent foes into an ally. (Hunters who are infected lycanthropes are well advised to take precautions against this stratagem.)

For those who have recently suffered a werebeast attack, or believe they have, a single question becomes of great importance: How do I know whether I've acquired lycanthropy? The question is pressing, for no one wants to learn of his affliction after the first transfiguration, when the only signs may be the steady loss of family members.

Unfortunately, I can offer little help to such people. To the best of my knowledge, there is no outward sign of infection. Some infected lycanthropes report having experienced a swelling around their wounds immediately following a werebeast's attack. This suggests that their bodies might actually have been fighting the lycanthropic infection. However, not all infected victims experience this inflammation. More often, in fact, the individuals who experience such initial swelling never exhibit lycanthropy. I have therefore concluded that this inflammation is a symptom of some other infection, or some other mundane condition which may have been transmitted by the werebeast. (Werebeasts are, after all, often filthy, and quite capable of hosting vermin.) It even may be possible that these lucky individuals' bodies actually destroyed the taint of lycanthropy within them.

Folktales and myths are full of tests for lycanthropic infection. Some make a modicum of sense. For example, some people swear that dousing a werebeast-inflicted wound with holy water is telling; if the victim experiences intense pain, then he has indeed acquired lycanthropy. Other tests seem totally nonsensical, however. For example, I once saw an old hermit pass a red hen over the prospective victim's head, to see whether this would make him sneeze. My personal research has confirmed my initial suspicions; none of these peculiar tests has any efficacy whatsoever.

It is said that some powerful forms of divinatory magic can determine whether a victim has been infected. This seems to be a real hit-or-miss affair, however. Certain spells allow the caster to commune with his deity; yet, since in my experience only malign deities can be contacted, so any information gained by such a communion is immediately suspect. I have heard that powerful magics such as a wish may sometimes determine whether a victim is afflicted with lycanthropy. Yet, since the intents of wishes are so frequently perverted, again the information so gained is highly suspect.

Not all tests regarding a victim's condition are fruitless, however. Though it is difficult, it is not impossible to determine what event or condition triggers an infected lycanthrope's transfiguration, provided the first such change has already occurred. Once the individual has transfigured for the first time, some might ask, is the trigger not apparent?

I would say not. If a character's trigger occurs largely when he is atone - in the middle of the night, for example - then it's likely that nobody will be there to witness the transfiguration, and he himself will lose all memory of the event. (Such is the nature of the transfiguration; see Chapter One for a more detailed description.)

Also, even if the trigger occurs in public, the precise condition need not be obvious. Many environments and situations are complex, with multiple events and conditions occurring simultaneously. Which of these multiple stimuli is the actual trigger?

Let us take two examples. An infected lycanthrope encounters a large spider and transfigures to his animal aspect. The obvious conclusion is that his trigger is the presence of large spiders, particularly if this happens several times. Yet, some time later, he encounters a ghost and transfigures again. It now becomes apparent that the trigger was not the spider itself, but in all likelihood the fear he felt on encountering it (assuming he indeed has a phobia of spiders). What's worse, neither spiders nor fear may be the trigger, either.

Here is another example. Imagine a lycanthrope who, so far, has transfigured only during combat. Does this mean that combat is the trigger? Not necessarily. In just such a case, the infected character later changed shape when someone egregiously insulted his heritage. It became apparent that the trigger was not the combat as such, but the rage that combat initiated in the character's soul.

In general, the constraints for divining whether the infection is present also apply to determining a trigger condition. Yet it would seem that the agencies responsible for such matters are less loath to reveal information on trigger conditions. Divinatory magic may still yield lies, half-truths, or evasions; yet there seem to be fewer obstacles to finding the truth in this lesser investigation.

Curing an infected lycanthrope of its affliction is an extremely arduous task. Travelers who claim they hail from distant lands sometimes say the curative process is less taxing in those lands. Never having visited these places, I can say nothing to support or contradict their statements (except, perhaps, that I often view such claims with a healthy dose of skepticism, for I have met no shortage of lost, deluded souls in my travels). At any rate, in every land I have visited during decades of research, the curative process comprises three distinct phases, which are outlined below.

Before there is even the slightest hope of curing an infected lycanthrope, it is necessary to hunt down and slay the true werebeast that ultimately started the chain of infection. If a true werebeast attacked the infected lycanthrope who is to be cured, then that chain has only two links, and it is sufficient to slay the attacker. Unfortunately, given the infectious nature of the scourge and the difficulty of a cure, the chain is usually much longer. An infected lycanthrope passes its contagion to other victims, and those victims pass it to still others. The person at the end of this horrid chain cannot be cured unless the true lycanthrope who originated the terror is found and slain. Unfortunately, since intermediate links may be killed, this task is never easy.

Tracking down that originator, which I shall refer to henceforth as the progenitor, requires a clever detective. Painstaking research is essential, and quite often, so is luck. The victim himself, and all those who know him, must be closely questioned to determine exactly when and where the person was initially infected. One must then track down the creature that infected him, and determine if it is a true werebeast, or itself an infected victim. If the latter, then the process must be repeated.

The task gets progressively more difficult as one approaches the progenitor. By definition, that creature is aware of its condition, as all true lycanthropes are. It can be expected to protect itself, initially from detection and eventually from destruction.

Even if the progenitor is unaware of the attempts to track it down, the sheer length of the chain can be obstacle enough, if only one of the links is something of a traveler - an adventurer, perhaps - then the progenitor could be located great distances from the individual to be cured. If one or more of the links has died in the interim, the chances of success are diminished drastically. The longest chain of contagion I have ever tracked to its conclusion comprised only three links, and that endeavor took several months of unrelenting effort. Ironically, when I eventually identified the progenitor, I discovered that the beast had already been destroyed several days before the individual to be cured had come to me for help. Although I had not known it, I could have proceeded directly to the next step of the cure without hunting the progenitor at all.

This irony brings up a very important point, however. It is vital to ensure that the progenitor has in fact been destroyed before attempting the next stage of the cure. An afflicted victim has but one chance to escape the blight. If any step has been missed, or imperfectly completed, then the cure will fail and the victim will be doomed to live out the rest of his days as a lycanthrope. There is no recourse, no second chance.

Individuals infected by multiple werebeasts pose a special problem. It is true that an infected victim need only be cured once; the successful cure removes all taint from his blood and soul. Yet the question remains: which beast (or beasts) is the progenitor? I believe that, for the purpose of the cure, the progenitor is the werebeast that last infected the victim before his first transfiguration. It is this beast - the one that determined the victim's phenotype - that must be destroyed. (Of course, if that creature was an infected lycanthrope itself, it is this beast's chain of contagion that must be tracked to its source.)

This is my belief about multiple infections, at least. While some evidence bears me out, I have no actual proof, since controlled experiments are out of the question. On both occasions where I have been involved in curing someone with a multiple infection, I assumed that my definition of the progenitor was correct. In one case the cure worked; in the other, it was a failure, although I attribute that catastrophe to another cause (specifically, a failure of will in the victim himself). Was I correct in my definition? I may never know for certain. In the former case, perhaps each werebeast that had infected the victim had to be destroyed for a successful cure... but only the one I defined as the progenitor still existed at the time of that cure. In the second case, perhaps it was the continued existence of another progenitor, and not the victim's weakness of will at all, that led to failure.

To be totally safe, then, one should theoretically hunt down and destroy ail lycanthropes that infected the victim (or the originators of each chain of contagion). This obviously complicates matters considerably.

The victim himself must perform the second stage of the cure. He must perform some kind of atonement for the evil he has caused while in secondary aspect. The exact nature of this atonement will vary from case to case.

Those individuals who are faithful followers of some religious tradition are often in a better position than others, in that their religion might specify a form of penance. Perhaps their faith has a pious ritual that is always used to atone for wicked acts. If not, then it is my belief that the act of atonement should fit the crime (or crimes) in nature and severity. For example, making provisions to support the children of a man the werebeast has killed would be a good start.

Note that the clerical spell atonement cannot be used to speed this process. (The spell must be used separately in the third portion of the cure.) So profound is the curse of lycanthropy that there are no shortcuts on the road to a cure. The victim must determine what is necessary for atonement, and perform it himself. (Certainly others can provide input and even guidance, but the responsibility for success or failure lies solely with the one who would be cured.)

The requirements for atonement will depend on the amount and severity of harm wreaked by the werebeast. A lycanthrope who has suffered under the affliction for decades may have to spend several years atoning. Perhaps he will choose to seek out the surviving relatives of his victims and tend to their material needs while doing everything else in his power to wipe away the emotional and psychological damage he inflicted.

There is no means of determining categorically whether the required amount of atonement has been completed. To the best of my knowledge, no magic, divinatory or otherwise, will yield a solution. The only place an answer may be found is in the heart of the one who would be cured. If he truly knoivs that he has done everything in his power to correct the evil he has done, then the atonement is likely complete.

It is vital to point out, once again, that each victim of lycanthropy has only one chance to remove the contagion. If the cure fails because the victim has done too little to atone for his fell acts, then his punishment is to remain a lycanthrope for as long as he lives. Because of this, it is much better to overestimate the degree of atonement required than to underestimate it.

The third and final stage of the cure is the most demanding. It is also the most dangerous, and cannot be accomplished without the aid of others. The actions required severely tax the infected subject and all others involved, both physically and emotionally.

In order for the blight to be lifted, the subject must first assume his secondary form. Thus, the assistants who are actually performing the cure must await, or orchestrate, the subject's trigger condition. (Orchestrating a trigger condition may in itself be quite difficult or dangerous, and may carry with it certain regrettable consequences.)

Despite the subject's intense desire to be cured, his assistants will gain little cooperation once the transfiguration is underway. A subject in secondary aspect takes on the mentality of the beast... and the test thing the beast wants is to be "cured!" As a result, the subject should be suitably restrained before the next steps are undertaken.

Assuming the beast within is now the beast without, a priest must next cast three spells on the subject: atonement, cure disease, and remove curse. The spells must be cast in quick succession. (If necessary, more than one priest can cooperate in casting the magic.) The order of spells is symbolic, and hence significant. Atonement completes the spiritual revitalization described in the preceding section. Cure disease rids the body of the infective agent. And remove curse erases the contagion's intangible effects.

The moment the atonement spell is complete, the subject's mentality returns to normal, even though he retains his secondary aspect. At this point, he must be freed from all restraints. In addition, he must remain totally motionless until the cure is complete. If he moves so much as one limb, then the cure fails, his animal mentality returns, and he is doomed to remain a lycanthrope until his death.

The cure disease spell can be cast without difficulty. As soon as the priest begins the remove curse spell, however, the subject's body is racked with agony as he begins a slow metamorphosis, returning to his normal human aspect. Regardless of the alterations which his body is undergoing, and regardless of the burning pain, he must remain completely motionless. This requires exceptional fortitude and strength of will.

If the subject conquers the pain and remains motionless, the transfiguration eventually completes and he is fully human once more. The affliction has been banished.

If the subject cannot adequately control himself however, and moves, then his human mentality flees, the beast within takes over, and the subject's body retransfigures into its secondary aspect. The werebeast immediately enters bloodlust. Its first act will probably be an attempt to slay the priest who was inflicting such hideous pain on him (or so the werebeast will interpret it).

What if some earlier portion of the cure was not completed correctly? Everything will appear to proceed normally until the final transfiguration begins. At this point, however, the pain will continue to increase until it becomes totally unbearable. No matter how strong-willed the character is, he cannot withstand the agony. Eventually he will move, and the cure will fail as described above.

I must stress that the agony of the transfiguration is an integral part of the cure, and must be experienced by the subject in its totality. There are certain magics and herbal concoctions that can lessen or even eliminate the sensation of pain. If any of these are used, the cure will automatically fail. The pain will increase sufficiently to overpower the magical or chemical precautions, and the subject will be totally unable to withstand it. For similar and obvious reasons, the subject must be fully conscious during this process.