Lycanthropes of Calimport

Outcasts?

Lycanthropy?

Raymond instantly recalled what Aipuke had told him about the distribution of Calimport's various factions while they were eating together a few days ago.

Among them, he had briefly mentioned Lycanthropes.

As the name implied, they were a special group capable of shifting between human and beast forms.

However, unlike a Druid's natural transformations, they were often cursed or infected with a supernatural affliction known as "Lycanthropy."

And this terrifying curse was highly contagious.

Once bitten by a Lycanthrope, no matter how slight the injury, the curse would enter the body through the wound and permanently transform the victim into one of their kind within a short time.

Most importantly, this transformation was nearly irreversible.

Once someone became a Lycanthrope, they would remain one for life, and could even pass it down to their descendants.

It was precisely because of this astonishing infectiousness that a single Lycanthrope could quickly establish a huge, uncontrollable Lycanthrope tribe by continuously biting ordinary people, posing an enormous threat to nearby villages and towns.

Across Faerun, most cities were extremely hostile toward Lycanthropes and forbade them from approaching densely populated areas.

Some extreme rulers even issued laws allowing Lycanthropes to be seized and burned to death without trial as soon as they were discovered.

Calimport was considered relatively tolerant of Lycanthropes and did not hunt them down on a large scale.

But likewise, Lycanthropes received no protection from the law.

They were not even qualified to become slaves, merely struggling to survive as a marginalized and unusual people.

Their social standing was probably even lower than the "untouchables" at the bottom of the caste system in a certain South Asian nation.

Among them, Skaven were one of the most numerous and relatively well-organized Lycanthrope groups.

These enormous rats, which stood about as tall as ordinary people after transforming, accounted for eighty percent of all Lycanthropes. Rumor had it that there were more than a thousand in the sewers.

As for other Lycanthropes, such as Werewolves and Catfolk, their numbers ranged from around a hundred to a few dozen, or even fewer.

Raymond was undoubtedly quite interested in the lycanthropic curse, so after briefly considering the potential risks, he immediately ordered, "Bring them over."

"Huh? What? Are you sure?"

The waiter gripping a stick froze on the spot.

In all his life, this was the first time he had seen anyone willing to let these dangerous "Outcasts" come near them.

Even the soldier could not help advising, "Master, they're all very dangerous."

But Raymond merely shook his head dismissively. "It's fine. They're just children with no professional training. I don't think they can pose any threat to me. On the contrary, I think they're rather interesting research subjects."

"All right. I hope you're right."

The soldier decisively chose to obey his summoner's will. He waved at the frightened children. "Come here! The master wishes to see you."

Whether it was because hunger had made these children let down their guard, or because they had long been used to being ordered about, no one knew.

In any case, not one of them chose to flee or resist. They obediently followed the soldier into the inn, formed a circle before the table, and stared at the leftover food giving off its enticing aroma.

One of the younger children repeatedly tried to reach out and grab some food, but the oldest girl stopped him with a look.

Clearly, they were together. They might even have come from the same Lycanthrope tribe and clan.

To confirm this, Raymond moved his used tableware aside and said bluntly, "Don't hold back. Eat. Everything on the table is yours. Once you're done, I have a few questions for you to answer."

"Thank you!"

The oldest girl lowered her head in an awkward bow, then picked up the plates and distributed the fish and oysters one by one to the younger companions behind her.

The bread was carefully torn into roughly equal pieces, while the meat soup was passed back after each person took a spoonful, ensuring everyone got some.

Although every child looked starving and wolfed down their food,

the entire process of dividing and eating the meal was orderly, without the slightest chaos or any fighting over food.

Without question, this basically confirmed that these young Lycanthropes known as "Outcasts" had come from the same clan.

Only the strong bonds forged by blood could keep every member united and helping one another even while starving and freezing.

Though there were plenty of leftovers on the table, they were clearly nowhere near enough to fill the stomachs of eight ravenous children.

Before long, they swept every edible morsel into their mouths like a whirlwind. Even the broth at the bottom of the plates was not spared, leaving them so clean they barely needed washing.

The leading girl licked her lips with lingering desire, then raised her head and stared at Raymond with large black eyes, as though waiting for his questions.

She understood very well that for Lycanthropes like herself, there was no such thing as a free lunch.

Even Paladins who claimed to champion kindness and order rarely showed Lycanthropes even the slightest sympathy.

Therefore, whether it was food, safe shelter, or clean drinking water, they had to pay the corresponding price to obtain it.

"What is your name?"

Raymond first asked a relatively unimportant question.

He could tell that these children were generally hostile toward outsiders.

The older ones in particular had a ferocity in their eyes that did not match their age.

At a time like this, it was best to find a way to lower their guard first.

Otherwise, it would be difficult to get any useful information from them.

"Fangus. My name is Fangus."

The girl gave a name that did not surprise Raymond in the least.

Of course, that was assuming it could even be called a "name."

Because in the Common Tongue, the word meant—fangs.

But considering that Lycanthropes were all people living on the fringes of society,

dwelling in sewers where sunlight never reached,

they had no opportunity to receive an education.

Every last one of them was illiterate.

So it was hardly strange for them to give a child a name like "Fangs," which sounded more like a nickname.

In fact, many skilled thieves in Calimport changed their names into homophones of certain words.

For example, "Fid" for "vanish," or "Sailus" for "silent," using such names to display their accomplishments in their profession.

Although Raymond had not been in Faerun for long, he had already encountered plenty of strange names and was long used to them. He merely nodded lightly. "All right, Fangus.

Tell me, what kind of Lycanthropes are you and your clansmen?

Why did you risk being driven away or even killed to come to the surface in search of food?"

The girl lowered her head, seemingly considering how to answer these questions.

After roughly two or three minutes, her frail body suddenly began to swell.

Her sickly pale skin, made so by prolonged lack of sunlight, rapidly sprouted thick black fur. Her mouth thrust forward wildly, growing a row of sharp canine fangs.

Her hands and feet completely turned into claws, and a fluffy tail even grew from behind her.

A Werewolf!

Raymond recognized at a glance what kind of Lycanthrope the girl before him was.

No wonder all the children had been so orderly while dividing and eating the food, with the younger ones obeying the older ones.

Like wolves, Werewolves possessed a powerful sense of group identity and a strict internal hierarchy.