“When the night holds its breath, beware the cute eyes that never blink.”
The slow loris might look like a wereloris in this transformation on the full moon
The Wereloris or Were-Loris (were-loris (plural: were-lorises, werelorises), or Lorisman (also spelled Loris-Man or Loris Man), also called the Lorisanthropy (plural: Lorisanthropies), Lorisanthrope (plural: Lorisanthropes)(from Ancient Greek λόριςάνθρωπος means ‘loris-man’), Lorisanthropic (plural: Lorisanthropics), or simply Lorisan (plural: Lorisans) is a mammalianthropic individual who can shape-shift into a loris (also, slow loris or slender loris). Or especially in modern days, a therianthropic hybrid loris/human being, either purposely or after being placed under a curse or affliction, often a bite or the occasional scratch from another wereloris, with the transformations occurring on the night of a full moon.
- The word “Lorisanthropy” originates from a portmanteau of Greek words, lóris [λόρις] meaning loris. And Anthropos [ἄνθρωπος], meaning human or person; man or woman. So the term translates to ‘loris person’ or even ‘loris human (man/woman)’.
Lorisanthropy transformation refers to the mythical or fictional process by which a human transforms into a loris or a loris-human hybrid, but lorisanthropy can involve transformation into any kind of lorises, such as Bengal lorises, Bornean lorises, javan lorises, Philippine lorises, etc. Depicting all humans in loris form, known as the Loriomorphism (singular: Loriomorphist) or Lorisanism (singular: Lorisanist).
- Lorisanthropism (singular: Lorisanthropist) is a therianthropic representation of deities in combined human and loris form.
- Loriotype (plural: Loritiotypes) is a mammalianthropic animal that is from loris identifies as (From lorio- + type).
other words based of lorisanthropes are:
- Loriskin (plural: Loriskins).
- Lorian (plural: Lorians).
The tale of the Wereloris[]
I was derping around, trying out, for the first time, a Mirthful embark (I tend to avoid the good/bad areas), and was having a bit of fun. I mean, it was totally unorganized, my smelters/forge was on the surface for like 2 years, and everything was all over the place. But I was having fun. I had just started on a couple of channeling projects, one for a bar/eating area, one for a temple--basically 4-5 high sheer walls, engraved. PRobably gonna get another one going for a library. It wasn't the best embark. No iron anywhere (thank you DFHack), but it was working for me. It's also really shallow. Like 40-50 Z-levels at most to dig through. Granted, that's still a lot of space, but still. Then a Wereloris attacked, and killed 2 folks outright, and left another 4-5 bleeding. A human caravan came along, and managed to snipe one of my citizens that turned (the other 4 that had turned apparently bled out right as they turned). However, one of the merchants and a wagon got killed. I was preparing to abandon the site (thank you "lair" command), and come back with a full wagonload of iron ore. I had built a butcher and a tannery, and was getting ready to slaughter all the animals, and store the remains as best I could before the site was abandoned. The next month, the only Lerianthrope left turned right next to a pair of human caravan guards, and was killed in about 2 seconds flat. All told, I lost 4 of my 5 engravers, a couple of miners, and 4 of my initial 7 Dwarves. On the other hand, the Engraver that is left is only a couple ranks from Legendary, the 2-3 miners I have left are awesome. The Engraver regularly does Masterwork engravings, and is booking. The walls are all but complete (on all Z-levels) in the Bar, and then all I'll need to do is engrave the floor, and build storage rooms off to the side. At the top of the tavern pit it's sand, so I'm thinking of making the main food growing area be right there, with stairs leading directly down to the kitchen/brewery/food storage, in rooms just off the bar itself. The tavern area itself is filled with rocks of all types, so I'm sending a couple masons and stone craftsdwarves to have some fun down there, to get rid of as much of the stone as possible. I've breached the caverns, so I can even get all the grazers down there.
Maul Junior in Reddit
In the early days of a newly founded Dwarven settlement on a Mirthful embark, the fortress was little more than a patchwork of hastily laid plans and scattered forges. The dwarves were cheerful, if disorganized. With no iron veins in sight and only shallow stone layers to work with, the expedition leader made do, setting up smelters and forges above ground and carving out the beginnings of a bar hall and temple. The settlement, though rough, began to thrive. Plans for a library were just beginning when something strange and deadly crept into the region.
A drawing of what wereloris look like by laruna-softpaw on Tumblr
A Wereloris—a cursed, lycanthropic creature in the form of a slow loris—descended upon the dwarves. Its attack was swift and devastating. Two citizens were slain outright. Several others were mauled and infected. In the chaos, a nearby human caravan arrived, only to be caught in the slaughter. A merchant and a wagon guard fell before they could escape. One by one, dwarves who had been wounded turned—falling not to death, but to transformation. The Wereloris curse took root among them, spreading like rot beneath the soil.
Faced with potential ruin, the expedition leader considered abandoning the settlement altogether. But fate offered a brief reprieve. By commanding the dwarves to take on a dangerous journey and return with a wagonload of iron ore, a fragile hope was sparked. The goal was to arm the survivors and prepare to purge the infected. But the Hollow would not yield so easily.
A month later, tragedy struck again. A newly-turned Lorisanthrope (another name for the wereloris curse) emerged and attacked a pair of human caravan guards. The creature was fast—its claws tearing through armor and flesh in seconds. Even the armed escort could not react in time. Only one engraver remained—wounded, but alive. Scarred in body, but legendary in skill. Even amid the chaos, he continued carving masterwork engravings of the tragedy as it unfolded. The walls told stories of blood, betrayal, and beasts that waited in the dark. The Wereloris was gone, for now. But its curse lived on. And the forest was quiet.