A werebeast snuck right up on an elven caravan at my depot. A large ass twisted into humanoid form. By the time my military got there and put it down, it had dismembered and killed all but two of the tree-huggers. They laid unconscious and bleeding even as the message came that their caravan was leaving. I claimed all of their wares. They somehow clung to life long enough to transform, but my military was stationed nearby, ready to reunite them with the rest of their caravan.
Well, apparently I hadn't noticed that at some point while that first blighted ass-man was attacking the elves, one of my fisherdwarves got himself bit. Maybe he ran in with my military to haul away one of the elves' pack animals' carcasses. I don't know. But since I was watching the elves, I also didn't notice that he had become a half-ass. Which he did, of course, right in the middle of a party at a *gabbro table* in one of my dining halls.
So after that my fort had a wereass infection of indeterminate size. The next full moon, I saw my mayor, a new mother, immediately after turning tear her newborn to shreds. I saw another party get crashed. I saw my livestock really unprofessionally butchered. Casualties were mercifully low, though, because luckily one of my swordmasters was attending the party, my mayor's room is right by a barracks, and the animals kept the other one distracted.
Now, it just so happens that I had recently finished building a room filled with caged POWs before any of this happened, and hooked all the cages up to an external lever. Golden opportunity! I watched the hospital for wounded survivors and put them all on a squad. Another mother with a baby was among them. So was my legendary cook. Oh well. Into the room they all went, and walled in they all were. When the next full moon hit, I ordered the lever to be pulled.
Not all the dwarves turned. Evidently I had sent mother and child needlessly to their doom. The assless dwarves were dead before the cages even opened. Forty-two cages total, filled with naked goblins and trolls. The unarmed goblins stood no chance, I knew, but more than half of those prisoners were trolls. Roughly thirty trolls against four wereasses? I wasn't sure of the outcome. And if the fight lasted longer than a day, the trolls would kick those wereasses. It didn't, though. When the gore settled, three of the four wereasses were still standing.
And there they shall remain.
Note the legendary cook. Also note that there are only two still alive. For some reason, when they transformed the following full moon, these two ganged up on the other one and killed him. As far as I know, that's not supposed to happen.
Oh, and I have a pit leading down there. It's nothing noteworthy, but...
I can't resist... Pic of my wereass-hole!