The sun has gone down and a chill pervades the air. Bats stir and flap screeching into the night, their shrill squeaks heading this way and that. A full moon sheds the only light upon the land. A noise erupts, tearing open the night. It is a long protracted howl that isn't quite right. Another, distant from the first, sends the barely quieting heart, galloping along from the first shock, to hammer harder yet. A third sees to no end of horror in this shattered hour. They are out hunting, and they have cornered their prey. Werewolves stalk this land and claim it as their own. They are the best of the beast and the worst of the man. Instinct permitted by arrogance. Savage and cunning.
Since I always focus on the horror version, werewolves are monsters who prey on any they will. Humans are their cattle and they don't mind playing with their food. They walk amongst us by day and willingly give into their hungers by night when and if they want. They are perfectly capable of live and let live, but why should they bow to their lessers. They are the leaders of the pack outside of their own packs--if they chose to form such a thing.
Werewolves may or may not be forced to change when the moon is full, but they can transform as they will at any time. I don't know where it hearkens back to, but I do not suggest giving them the ability to command people. When they want something they take it. They use intimidation and good old fashioned charisma. They exude confidence and self-ease. This confidence stems from a lack of introspection into their condition. They are primal and they react. They plan only as needed and let experience work for them on the fly.
They seem to be on top of the pile when it comes to the near human horrors. Strong, athletic--both endurance and agility--and equipped with fangs and claws. I suggest only a dual form capability with human and towering hybrid beast. They fear only silver for death and fire for pain. A purposeful attempt to destroy the body with fire is the only way fire assures that they do not rise the same as if they'd been shot or stabbed. Severing the head works, but lost limbs will regrow. Make them sturdier than humans, but the right kinds of head and heart shots put them down the same as anyone else. They just refuse to stay dead without silver, incineration, or losing their heads. If not dispatched correctly then it's three days later and they are back as good as new.
There will be no new posts in August. I usually take May off to work on the programming bits across all of my sites. I had to rebuild my software on a new computer at the first of the year and that delayed everything. See you in September.
Music: Book Of Thel by Bruce Dickinson. Or get MP3s.
