Have you ever wondered what makes a werewolf tick? What forces are at work that would make a human ally with such a creature? Designer Steve Miller takes you on a journey of discovery as he leads you ever deeper in the Circle of Vehlarr.

"Do you mind if I join you at the fire," asked the wizard, pointing one of his wands at me, as he slid the other into a leather sheath that hung from his belt.

He offered me a smile and took a seat next to Arahnar, who still sat with her muscles locked in place by magic. Her eyes burned with a murderous fury. I shifted my gaze back to the wizard. He wore the scarlet robes of a Red Wizard of Thay, yet his head and chin were not clean-shaven, as was the habit of his kind. His complexion and narrow face definitely marked him as from the east, so I had no reason to doubt he was the real thing. But what did he want with us?

"I mean you no harm," he said, as though he had read my thoughts. Arahnar actually managed a throaty growl, despite her immobile state. I gave a small, start, but the wizard chuckled and said, "You certainly have nothing to worry about, my dear. All I want for now is a little bit of your blood."

"I could have asked you to volunteer," the wizard said, "but I sincerely doubt you would have been cooperative."

The wizard laughed. "Oh, I’m fairly certain she would have said no," he said. He undid a clasp and pulled open his robe, revealing that his tattooed chest had five ragged scars across it. I recognized the pattern, although I usually saw it through sprays of blood: This particular wizard and Arahnar had met before and she had left the mark of her claws on him. As he continued to speak, he closed his robe again. " Arahnar and I don’t exactly get along, but my divination magic revealed that she was the only born werebeast in the area, so this had to be."

As if responding to some unheard command, the two brutes that had been standing quietly at the edge of firelight now advanced on me. I rose to my feet, my hand on the hilt of my sword. "What happened to ‘I mean you no harm’?" I asked.

"They’re just going to make sure you don’t feel any chivalrous urges to defend your female friend," he said, drawing a gleaming dagger. "There will be lots of blood, but I assure you that a simple bandage will preserve her life once I am done."

The man-giants stepped behind me and each slapped a meaty paw of a hand on one of my shoulders. Although I had intended to remain standing, the weight caused my knees to buckle and I collapsed back into a seated position.

"Who are you?" I groaned, as he approached Arahnar. "Do you work with the Silver Spike?"

"By the stars, no!" He seemed surprised at my question, but then a thoughtful look crossed his face. "They might be interested in my spells, though. Perhaps a trip to Baldur’s Gate is in order when I’m done here."

"No. I do it for love." With those words, he pressed his lips to Arahnar’s, kissing her as he drove the dagger into her lower arm, twisting it to cause a vicious, blood-gushing wound. Her eyes rolled back in her head and the forced growl now muffled by the wizard’s lips grew in its desperation and fury. If she hadn’t been bound by magic, she would have probably taken wolf form on the spot and slaughtered all four of us.

He drew back from her and wiped the blood from his knife on her thigh. He returned it to its sheath and produced two vials from a pouch on his belt. He let Arahnar’s blood flow into first one vile, then the other. It mixed with a tiny bit of liquid that was already present in them, changing color from red to black. He then stoppered each vile and stood up. "I thank you to tend to the lady’s injury, my good man. I believe it would be best if I put some distance between myself and her before she recovers from the spell I cast upon her." As he headed into the darkness, his large companions took their hands from my shoulders and followed.

I hurried to Arahnar’s side and treated her wound with an herbal pack that would both stop the bleeding and ease her pain. She was still growling deep in her throat and I started to wonder if maybe I too should try to be elsewhere when the magic wore off.

No sooner had that thought crossed my mind before one of Arahnar’s hands shot out and closed on my throat like a vice. I felt her claws rake across my skin, threatening to tear into my neck as she transformed from an attractive young woman into a nightmarish cross between human and wolf. I tried to tell her that she was hurting me, but couldn’t do more but croak as I tugged at her talons. As I met her burning, hate-filled gaze, however, I realized that even if I could speak, my words would fall on deaf ears.

"We’re going after that tattooed bastard," she snarled, her muzzle twitching as her upper lip drew back to reveal her curved fangs. "You’ll hold him down, and I’ll tear out his entrails!"

Three years ago, Avan Vatsisen was a trusted assistant to a politically influential Red Wizard in the Thayan capital of Eltabbar. His master dispatched him to distant Scornubel to supervise the acquisition and transport to Thay of several rare spell components available only in the Western Heartlands. While abroad, Avan took a liking to the more laid-back existence led by the peoples outside his homeland and abandoned a number of the traditional ways of the Red Wizards. In fact, if his master were to see him as he is now, with a full beard and head of hair, he would be shocked and dismayed. In addition to becoming less meticulous with his personal grooming, Avan has abandoned his magical field of specialty (Enchantment) to become a generalist mage.

Avan became further transformed by the Western Heartlands when he met a stunning young woman during a trip to Baldur’s Gate. She was sharpening her weapons by the roadside a dozen or so miles outside the city, and the moment he gazed into her dark eyes, he knew she had to be his. As was his habit, he used his magic to make her more likely to accept his romantic overtures. At first, she seemed completely under his spell, but as soon as he had led her (or had she led him; Avan is no longer sure) to a dappled glen within a small grove of trees. There, she transformed into a half-wolf, half-woman and attacked him. If his bodyguards hadn’t been nearby, the female werewolf would most certain have killed him.

Ever since that day, he has been obsessed with the dark, deadly beauty that left her marks upon his chest. He has been observing her wanderings through a crystal ball while he’s been developing a spell that will make her share the deep feelings of love that he has for her.

Avan’s appearance is standard for the ruling racial group of Thay: His skin is sallow and his hair is dark. He still wears the traditional garb of a Red Wizard of Thay, but he has allowed his hair and beard to grow since coming west. This makes his appearance seem odd in comparison with other Red Wizards who meticulously shave all their body hair. Avan possesses a variety of magical items, and is usually carrying equipment to reflect the situation he expects to walk into. Four items remain constant, however: A wand of magic missiles, a wand of lightning, a ring of regeneration, and a ring of fire resistance. He is 30 years old and speaks in a soft, sibilant voice.

Wherever he goes, Avan is accompanied by two flesh golems that have been ordered by his Thayan master to protect him from harm. Each golem also has a permanent variant ESP spell cast upon them that is attuned to Avan, allowing him to mentally command them. Should he be rendered unconscious, the golems either attack any apparent threat with mindless fury or they simply stand motionless.

Avan Vatsisen, male human, W9: AC 9 (Dex bonus); MV 12; HD 9; hp 33; THAC0 18 (16 with dagger +2); #AT 1; Dmg 1d4+2 (dagger +2); SA spells; SD ring of regeneration; SZ M (6’0"); ML champion (15); Str 11, Dex 15, Con 16, Int 17, Wis 9, Cha 14; AL NE.

Spells Typically in Memory: 1^st—burning hands, charm person, magic missile, sleep; 2^nd—invisibility, charm lycanthrope*, detect lycanthrope*; 3rd—blink, hold person, fireball; 4^th—charm monster, wizard eye; 5^th—teleport.

Special Equipment: Avan wears a ring of regeneration and a ring of fire resistance. He carries a dagger +2, a wand of magic missiles (27 charges) and a wand of lightning (31 charges).

The Bodyguards, flesh golems (2): AC 7 (natural armor class and leather armor); MV 12; HD 9; hp 43, 40; THAC0 11; #AT 2; Dmg 2d8/2d8; SD spell immunities, magical weapons to hit, immune to hold, charm, fear, and other mind-effecting spells, regenerates from electrical attacks; SW cold- and fire-based attacks act as slow spell for 2d6 rounds; SW; SZ L (7’4"); ML fanatic (19); Int 3; AL N; XP 2,000

The Search for the Circle of Vehlarr Archive
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

(Forgotten Realms Features Archive)