"I will never forget the night when everything changed. Even on those blessed, lightless vespers when I need not face my hunger or urges, my nightmares remind me of that terrible evening in the dimness of the Grungir Forest. It was there that I met the man who wore a bears skin over his own, and in him I met my martial match. No honor was lost that night as I tended my wounds in the river beneath the moons full splendor. I dare say, however, that the price of my defeat was even greater than my reputation, for in that battle I fear that I've lost my own humanity. In the years since, the natuFe of what I've become has grown clearer; though I still seek answers to a question scarcely understood. This book is an attempt to remedy this quandary and answer the question: What manner of beast is the fycanthrope? And what of the skinwalker, the elusive, cursed descendant of werewolves and worse? I ave collected the stories and accounts contained herein from Avistan and beyond, in hopes of solving the enigma of moon and beast."
-Harsen Bulhest, editors note in Of Moon and Beast
Beasts have stalked the lands of Golarion far longer than any of the civilized races, the Shoanti thundercallers of the Storval Plateau say. When the oracles of the Mwangi Jungle speak of the warrior with fangs and the panther with dreams, it's not only children who stop to listen, for surely such fables must possess a grain of truth. Even runes on the cyclopean monoliths of ancient GholGan tell of creatures neither wholly humanoid nor animal, half-bestial horrors whose sharklike corpses washed upon the shores after nights when the moon hung high and the creatures of the dark emerged from their solemn places. These legends tell of monsters that can withstand the force of steel, of animals that walk among settlements in human guise, and of men and women cursed with bestial hunger who must kill beneath the shining light of the full moon.
Some may laugh at the idea of shapechangers, though such humor is no doubt tinged with the fear that this notion might hold more truth than appreciated or intended. For indeed, cunning werewolves stalk the dark forests of Ustalav, masquerading as commoners in the light of day and waiting for nightfall to carry out their bloody desires. In the Lands of the Linnorm Kingdoms, Ulfen warriors speak of powerful rangers and nature wardens whose ability to summon the strength and fury of great bears is more than just a metaphor. From the cursed forests of the Shudderwood to the haunted swamps of the Sodden Lands, lycanthropes are myths with teeth.
Those beings that can take the form of a wolf as well as that of a human are the best known, but many other breeds of lycanthrope exist on Golarion. Weretigers dwell within the jungles of Garund, just as wererats lurk in sewer tunnels beneath metropolises such as Absalom. Even beyond this, these lycanthropes are progenitors of a widespread phenomenon, one tracing its roots to these fell beings. This enigma is the skinwalkers-people born from human parents, but whose ancestry is ever so slightly marked by the touch of lycanthropy. The curse running through a skinwalker's blood gives her the ability to dip into the form of the beast that so long ago took hold of her unfortunate ancestor, but she isn't necessarily fated to succumb to the beast within.
Whether they're lycanthropes or skinwalkers, these shapechangers are universally feared and respected, and their effect on the Inner Sea region and the peoples of Golarion can easily be heard in the muted hum of the night, seen in the reflection of the full moon, and felt in the hot, patient growl of the beast.
Men who can turn into beasts, werewolves prowl the dark fringes of civilization, culling the weak and unwary from the larger human herd. These ravenous creatures are victims of the curse of lycanthropy, consumed by a rage not unlike that of some barbarian warriors, but with a maleficent twist. The bestial desires of a rabid wolf course through their veins, driving them to acts of barbaric cruelty and animalistic fury. Most of these individuals embrace their savage hungers, becoming evil monsters that stalk the night. An unfortunate few vainly struggle to fight the curse, but these are inevitably consumed by the beast within, giving in to the thirst for blood and slaughter.
Werewolves come in two varieties, natural lycanthropes (those born with the condition) and afflicted lycanthropes (those who contract lycanthropy as a curse or disease from another werewolf ). Natural werewolves have complete knowledge of their state and perfect control over their abilities. Afflicted werewolves, on the other hand, often change form involuntarily, an event usually triggered by the full moon. While in animal form, they frequently lose their identities and retain no memories of their actions.
All werewolves can change into three different shapes: a normal humanoid, a wolf form, and a terrifying hybrid humanoid-wolf shape. A werewolf in humanoid form blends easily into civilized society, and the simple peasants of frontier villages know that any stranger’s face could hide the predator in their midst. In wolf or hybrid form, a werewolf becomes highly resistant to damage—only magic and weapons crafted of silver can harm them with any degree of success—but its humanoid shape possesses no such immunity. Regardless of its current shape, a werewolf reverts to its human form when slain.
In contrast to other lycanthropes, werewolves take a much more direct interest in their victims. A wereboar might keep to its forest, attacking trespassers out of aggression rather than maliciousness, or a wererat may lurk in the sewers, only occasionally murdering an innocent when the opportunity presents itself, but werewolves stalk their prey with the chilling patience of a careful, intelligent hunter. They delight in terrorizing their victims, prowling around their villages and homes, or even better, hounding them to the point of exhaustion, howling dreadfully to the moon to instil debilitating horror before closing in for the kill.
For all their prowess at hunting, however, werewolves are also savagery and violence personified. When their urges overtake them, the quiet hunter becomes a mindless beast, revelling in wanton destruction. Like a rabid wolf who preys upon a f lock of sheep, slaughtering far more than it can eat for the sheer pleasure of it, a werewolf doesn’t need an external reason for its rampage—the hunt is the reason, and anything unable to defend itself from the werewolf’s depredations is prey. A rough woodsman, a simple peasant girl, or an innocent child are all fair game for the werewolf’s bloody sport.
Ecology
In their humanoid form, werewolves are indistinguishable from any other members of their race, although natural werewolves and those who have been aff licted for a long time may have or acquire wolfish features. According to folklore, natural werewolves tend to look somewhat feral, with a full head of shaggy hair and a wild look in their eyes. Other traits include eyebrows that meet together, index fingers longer than the middle fingers, curved fingernails, odd birthmarks on the palms, or a loping, lupine gait. Some superstitions even claim that a werewolf in its human form can be recognized by bristles of hair under its tongue, a vestigial tail, or cutting its skin to reveal fur in the wound.
In wolf form, a werewolf looks like a normal wolf, albeit a large and powerful specimen. A close look at the creature’s eyes, however, may reveal its true nature, as they often glow red or yellow with an inner fire and display a spark of unnatural and cruel intelligence. In its hybrid shape, a werewolf resembles a human-sized wolf walking upright on two legs (but occasionally running on all fours). While a werewolf in hybrid form has the bite of a wolf and sharp claws, it is also able to wield weapons in its clawed hands.
Lycanthropy itself is an affliction somewhere between a curse and a disease. To a natural werewolf, of course, it is simply a trait inherited at birth, but to an afflicted werewolf, it’s an unnatural malady. The curse of lycanthropy is transmitted through a werewolf ’s bite. Only a true, natural werewolf can pass along this curse; the bite of an afflicted werewolf is no worse than that of a normal wolf.
Once contracted, the disease shows no symptoms until the next full moon, when the beast within first overcomes the afflicted person and she changes into her animal form. The stress of combat can also trigger these changes. Most afflicted werewolves remember nothing of these episodes and wake up far from home the next morning, perhaps covered in the blood of those they slaughtered and with a profound feeling of melancholy or depression. Those few who do remember their actions and embrace their new-found power soon find themselves consumed by the evil and fury their new form incites. Once an afflicted werewolf truly accepts the curse, the beast has won.
Magic provides the best cure for lycanthropy. A remove disease or heal spell from a powerful cleric has the best chance of success, but such remedies must be sought within 3 days of infection. Remove curse and break enchantment magics can also be used, but they are only effective during the time of the full moon, when the werewolf is at its strongest. A dose of wolfsbane, also known as monkshood, can also cure the affliction, giving the target another saving throw against the affliction. Fresh wolfsbane works best, but the plant is poisonous and has a chance of killing the recipient rather than curing him. Of course, natural werewolves cannot be cured of their condition.
Becoming a Lycanthrope
"It was an unlucky draw, that's all. But no matter how often I say it, my old friends in Whistledown don't listen - or don't care. I am seen as a monster now, ostracized and treated like one of those untouchable were-beasts of the Shoanti tribes to the north. The harrower tricked me; I had no idea he extent of her magical decks wicked powers, and now I am cursed, forced to walk the world in this half-lupine form unt1l the end of my days. My only solace is this lonesome journal, where the ink and paper do not judge my terrible form, and among the brutes of the Sanos, where 1 eke out my days with my beastly kin."
-Journal entry of Skesean Kelepsia, wereeolf and Varisian outcast
Few seek the fate of the lycanthrope. Shunned, hated, and feared throughout most of the world, these misbegotten monsters of the night live hard and often short lives. Shame plagues the best of them for their nocturnal bouts of amnesia and any forgotten misdeeds they may have committed, while the worst lycanthropes revel in the madness of transformation. The following section explores some of the most common ways an unfortunate individual might contract and cure lycanthropy, as well as suggestions for groups seeking to play lycanthropic characters in their campaign.
Contracting Lycanthropy
Lycanthropy is a curse, and while some unscrupulous types may seek this "gift of the moon," voluntary contraction of the disease is rare. Several methods exist by which an individual might contract the curse of lycanthropy.
Curse: There are several recorded instances of lycanthropes acquiring their curse through the fell work of an arcanist or channeler of the divine. Those demon worshipers who commit themselves to Jezelda boast of their patron's Abyssal gift, the fullest form of which can turn a devotee fully into a lycanthrope. Other spellcasters claim that the secret to channeling the curse of lycanthropy can be found in ancient arcane texts and items, such as The Bear card in the Harrow Deck of Many Things, or long-forgotten magic of the spirit world. Oracles dedicated to the mystery of the moon (see page 28) tell that the key to unlocking the truest potential of lycanthropy can be found within strict adherence to the laws of the lunar cycle and the natural world.
Infection: The easiest and most common way to contract lycanthropy is by coming too close to a creature afflicted with the curse. Bites, scratches, and (in a tiny percentage of cases) ingesting blood from a lycanthropic foe may all result in the malady spreading from one carrier to a new victim. Once exposed, newly made carriers likely don't realize the extent of their affliction until the next full moon, and without divinations it is likely that their moment of transformation is the first victims know of their curse.
Inheritance: Those creatures born with the blood of lycanthropy fully within them are known as natural lycanthropes. These individuals are every bit as accursed as their aff licted counterparts, save that they are, for the most part, capable of controlling their bestial urges. While they can transform at will and are not so attuned to the mysterious inf luence of the phases of the moon, the blood of the beast still burns brightly within them, and many natural lycanthropes turn toward a path of depravity and insatiable hunger. For the most part, natural and afflicted lycanthropes tend to bear children born with the curse. It remains a mystery as to exactly how far down a familial line the curse of lycanthropy runs before it manifests only as skinwalker children or is diluted to the point of non-expression.
Superstitions and Safeguards
Besides the standard cures, many folk remedies exist for curing lycanthropy, though most healers and priests discount such treatments as ignorant superstitions. One common belief is that exhaustion can cure a werewolf. Afflicted werewolves (or those thought to be infected) are often forced to toil at hard labor without rest, thus tiring the beast and purging it from the victim’s body. Another commonly accepted remedy is immersing a werewolf in holy water during a new moon.
Other so-called “cures” include the presentation of holy symbols, particularly those of gods of animals or healing, such as Erastil and Sarenrae; driving nails (often silver ones) into the werewolf’s hands or paws; striking the werewolf forcefully on the forehead with a dull knife; or even addressing a werewolf by its given name three times in succession.
A final remedy is skinning the werewolf in its hybrid or animal form, thereby separating the wolf from the man. One wonders, however, what sort of werewolf would be docile enough to allow such a procedure, or whether the unfortunate sufferer would survive the “treatment.”
Many strange beliefs exist for safeguarding oneself from the predations of werewolves. Wolfsbane proves most successful, as it has a reputation for repelling werewolves as well as curing the affliction of lycanthropy itself. Holy symbols and holy water remain popular defenses, even though werewolves are not undead and have no known vulnerability to such instruments. Because silver is known to harm werewolves, some people favor wearing silver jewelry for protection from werewolf attacks. Wealthy villagers also spread powdered silver outside doors and windows to keep werewolves at bay. Rye, mistletoe, and the berries of the rowan tree or mountain ash are also believed to be effective.
Curing Lycanthropy
Those cursed with lycanthropy often seek the quickest and surest way to rid themselves of their cruel affliction. Much misinformation is spread about this curse, however, so the search for a cure to lycanthropy can be trying, timeconsuming, and agonizing. The following are the most common ways an aff licted lycanthrope might remedy her dreadful ailment. Note that natural lycanthropes and skinwalkers can't use these methods to rid themselves of their accursed ancestry-for these individuals, there is virtually no hope of curing their inherent natures, save perhaps for the power of a miracle or wish spell.
Herbalism: The most accessible true cure for lycanthropy lies within the potent and poisonous leaves of herbs such as wolfs bane and belladonna. Unfortunately for a were-creature consuming such ingredients, the effects of these remedies are as dangerous and difficult to resist as the curse itself. They are often purchased in mysterious solutions, at a significant markup, from snake-oil salespeople all over the Inner Sea region, especially in regions where lycanthropy is more prevalent.
Magic: Spells like remove disease and heal are more definitive and safer ways to break the curse, as long as they are cast by a holy person of sufficient skill (typically a cleric of 12th level or higher). However, the window of time in which such mystical treatments function is short healers have but 3 days after a victim's exposure to the curse to use their restorative magic before it is no longer sufficient. Since many lycanthropes make their homes far from civilization, those who are infected by such reclusive monsters usually have no hope of reaching such a cure in time. After the 3-day window has passed, a victim's only chance of a cure through magic is a remove curse spell, cast by a cleric of 12th level or higher, during the time of the victim's transformation. To make matters more troublesome, spellcasters of sufficient power are rare in the Inner Sea region, and even if such a prodigious cleric is found, the price of his services can be cripplingly expensive.
Other Remedies: Many folk remedies for lycanthropy exist to offer false hope-and in some cases to cause real damage-to those desperate enough to seek them. Perhaps because of the brutal nature of the were-creatures, many of these "cures" are tantamount to torture, granted an air of legitimacy by the inclusion of silver tools or a certain amount of ritual. To be sure, beating a subject unconscious on the eve of a full moon may stop her from wreaking havoc when transformed, but this is no cure.
In Iobaria, it's said that an afflicted lycanthrope must hold a silver piece in its mouth for a week around the full moon to maintain control. In the Realm of the Mammoth Lords, breathing smoke from a burning wolf corpse does nothing for the disease but at least grants a sense of agency against an intangible foe. The Tian people supposedly tattoo silver shackles across the wrists and ankles of a suspected lycanthrope to bind the beast inside the skin. Whether or not the subject is cured, the afflicted lives the rest of her life with these shameful marks.
Habitat & Society
“Look up in the sky at the moon, full and swollen like a gravid bitch. Can you feel its pull? Can you feel the blood pounding in your veins, full of life, full of power? It won’t be long now. Don’t fight it. You can’t win. You are the beast now. Take a deep breath. Taste the wind. Smell that? It’s the scent of fresh meat, the sweet reek of fear. Fear of you. There’s only two kinds of creature in this world for you now, boy, predator and prey. You’re the predator, everything else is prey. Soon, you’ll feel their hot lifeblood gushing between your teeth, their flesh ripping beneath your claws. Go, now. Hunt. Revel in the savagery. Slake the blood-thirst for tonight. And tomorrow night, you’ll do it all over again.”
—Brogai Navratil, Arthfell werewolf, to one of his new “pups”
While werewolves may live anywhere, from towns and cities to sparsely inhabited forests, natural and afflicted lycanthropes frequently lead very different lives. Afflicted werewolves, fighting a terrible disease that turns them into ravenous beasts, tend to be solitary individuals, living in self-imposed isolation either to avoid discovery or in an attempt to protect family and friends from their own bestial urges. Alone on the frontier, many turn to banditry to support themselves. Natural werewolves in human form live just as humans do, while those who prefer their beast shapes might live in a cozy wolf den, although the comforts of civilization, such as soft beds and warm fires, usually draw them back to human society.
A rare few aff licted werewolves manage to keep the beast at bay, retaining their own personalities and morals while struggling with the bestial urges that threaten to consume them 3 nights a month. Pariahs within werewolf society, these good-natured werewolves frequently lead lives just as secretive and hidden as their evil brethren, as few towns suffer the continued existence of a known werewolf in their midst. To their misfortune, most such werewolves find that people react with alarm and prejudice regardless of the werewolf ’s true intentions.
Natural werewolves have long since grown accustomed to the hatred and fear their presence engenders, and those who dwell in civilized lands often lead normal lives within human society, attempting to blend in as much as possible. Such quiet, peaceful existences are often short-lived, however, as the beast within cannot be denied for long, and these werewolves’ idyllic lifestyles usually end in blood-drenched frenzies. In the hinterlands, natural werewolves habitually gather into packs, either of other werewolves in areas where lycanthropy is widespread, or as leaders of packs of normal wolves.
Whether in human, hybrid, or wolf form, natural werewolves can communicate with wolves and dire wolves, allowing them limited control over these beasts. Afflicted werewolves only have this ability in their hybrid and wolf shapes; in their human forms, they possess no special empathy with wolves. Stories persist of werewolves who can also talk to dogs and other canines, and legends speak of particularly powerful werewolves who are able to speak with more unusual lupines such as shadow mastiffs, winter wolves, and worgs.
Werewolves who have embraced their bestial nature sometimes worship the demon lord Jezelda, Mistress of the Hungry Moon. Especially prevalent among the werewolves of Andoran’s Darkmoon Vale and Lozeri in northern Ustalav, Jezelda’s faithful hate non-werewolf lycanthropes in particular, and go to great lengths to hunt and slay those heretical abominations. Less-devout werewolves may venerate other gods—Lamashtu, Rovagug, and even Urgathoa, in her aspect as goddess of gluttony.
Even rarer than afflicted werewolves who maintain their good alignment, a few legendary natural werewolves known as the Hounds of Good are said to exist. While not an organized order or society, these paragons of righteousness nevertheless dedicate themselves to the fight against evil. Most people dismiss them as myths, but ancient texts refer to the Hounds of Good as creations of the slain beast-god Curchanus, charged with hunting down and destroying demons, devils, and other creatures of evil.
Hiding Lycanthropy
Most nights out of the month, an afflicted lycanthrope has little trouble hiding her curse. On those nights when the moon is full and shining, however, it behooves lycanthropes to have a plan for stifling their bestial urges or at the very least concealing their identities while their alter egos rampage. Perhaps the most reliable means of protecting oneself from accidentally running wild is to stay hidden indoors-preferably with the windows boarded and the doors locked using a method beyond the manipulation of animal paws. A trusted friend may provide silver manacles and hold the key till dawn. Getting out of town completely may be in order for some lycanthropes, though to assuage suspicion from nosy neighbors, it wouldn't hurt to join an organization whose meetings are based on the lunar cycle; a worshiper of Ashava or Tsukiyo could do worse than to make lunar "pilgrimages" to a safe-house as a way to disguise affliction in piety. Beyond these methods, powerful magic items may be capable of aiding in the prevention of unwanted transformation, though regardless of how many safeguards are in place, few lycanthropes ever feel safe from themselves.
The Moon
"I am captivated by the glory of the full moon this night, even if it only remmds me of my beloved Lia and the heavenly sparkle in her eyes! The doctors are unsure of her recovery and claim that rf she could identify the foul beast that bit her those several nights ago they might be able to undo more of the damage. But my faith in our love has never wavered, and I know for certain that my darling will recover from her affliction in time for the wedding. But oh, just writing of her makes my heart weep! I will visit her shortly to ease my burning sorrow and so that we may both enjoy the splendid view of the moon this eve."
-Last journal entry of Baron Deverin Tasald
Lycanthropes and The Moon
What is it about the moon that draws the beast from the blood of the wicked ? Even among those nonlycanthropic citizens of Golarion , the light of the full moon is often said to stir up trouble, bringing out vagrants and villains alike to consort beneath its singular celestial eye.
One possible explanation, popular among some natural-born werewolves, is that the moon draws humanoids back to their primal roots-a spiritual ancestry that extends back to the wildest, most violent aspects of the dawn of time-and that both lycanthropy and the lunacy associated with the full moon are natural expressions of that primal nature. Others speculate that the moon's cycle is tied with the dark and chaotic powers of the stars themselves, perhaps in some way linking the curse of lycanthropy with the fell powers of the Dark Tapestry.
While loremasters of the Inner Sea may never know the exact reason that the full moon holds such sway, there can be no doubt that the light of this lunar body is deeply linked to the primal nature of the individual. This is most evident in the moon's inf luence over the various lycanthropic races that roam the dark wilderness, beyond the walls and watches of civilization. Some lycanthropes worship the moon in all its forms, while others curse the cycle that drives them to bloody madness. Regardless, none of them can escape its terrifying influence.
Known Werewolves
The following lycanthropes have a particularly bloody history or reputation.
Brogai Navratil: This blackhearted natural werewolf brigand ranges throughout Darkmoon Vale in central Andoran, occasionally retreating to the Wolfrun Hills for refuge during the vale’s frequent purges of lycanthropes. A grizzled veteran of constant skirmishes with both the Fangwatch and the Diamond Regiment, Brogai once took a silver arrow in the eye, a wound that has never fully healed, leaving him with just one burning yellow eye in beastform. Brogai delights in attacking isolated farms and logging camps, spreading his “gift” to unfortunate woodsmen and loggers, and forcibly inducting them into his pack of bandits when they change at the next full moon.
Wolf ’s Ear: The Varisian town of Wolf ’s Ear squats beneath the dark eaves of the Churlwood on the banks of Ember Lake. Once a colony of relatively peaceful lycanthropes, Wolf ’s Ear was ravaged when Magnimar and the Church of Erastil “eradicated” lycanthropy in the town in a bloody pogrom. The fact that most werecreatures simply went underground is an open, though never spoken, secret. Werewolves make up the majority of lycanthropes in Wolf ’s Ear, and have become adept at keeping their true natures hidden from outsiders. Usually content to subtly undermine Magnimar’s authority in the region, they could prove a serious threat if their territory or autonomy were encroached upon, a fact not lost upon the lord-mayor of Magnimar. Recently, a rebellious pack of werewolves, led by a disgruntled young woman named Ruxandra Katranjiev, has begun calling for more open action against Magnimar as well as purges of non-werewolf lycanthropes from Wolf ’s Ear. While thus far only a fringe group, their inf luence on the future of the region remains an open question.
Ylva Skallagrim: A tall, red-haired Ulfen woman, Ylva is a natural werewolf said to take the shape of a mighty snowcolored wolf. A legend in the Lands of the Linnorm Kings, Ylva leads a dozen chosen berserker warriors she has aff licted with lycanthropy, called the Ulf hednar. Ylva and her band sail a longship decorated with a snarling wolf figurehead instead of the traditional dragon’s head, raiding and plundering coastal villages from Kalsgard to Magnimar, along with their pack of winter wolf allies. Feared up and down the coast of the Steaming Sea, Ylva, according to some reports, has her eye on becoming a Linnorm King herself, and perhaps intends to claim the empty throne of Trollheim.
