By day I am a normal man like any other. None would know my secret from my appearance alone. But on the night of a full moon, a terrible transformation comes over me.
My hair and beard grow long and hoary. My hands become gnarled, and my shoulders heavy, as though a great weight has descended upon them: I find myself reaching involuntarily for an oaken staff to support myself. Knowledge -- strange, arcane things that I have no memory of ever studying -- floods into my mind. Untold occult powers over nature and shadow become mine to command.
I am... the werelock.