Rewrite. More gore.

They had no warning...

The only thing they had was panic... just as Saris intended; and something more she had not. A gift from her new master, to spice up her game... but mostly to speed it along.

The first attack was at the fringes of the Hinterlands: hunters, chasing a great bear, there was almost a poetic irony to it.

There were three of them, two middle aged human males, and an elven girl they had 'liberated' from an alienage. She was mute. The two hunters couldn't have been happier.

They had bagged a great bear, and were in the process of skinning it, when a male rogue in Tevinter leather armor suddenly cleared his throat, the elven girl in his grasp, a blade at her slender throat, "Be still girl; and fear not. If I slit your throat, THEY will rip me to pieces." he turned to the hunters, "Gentlemen," he hissed through grinning teeth, "I'm afraid your little 'victory' party with this young woman will have to be postponed... indefinitely. You two are about to be treated like your prey." he gestured to the cave mouth, "THESE good souls are here to help with your moral dilemas... by ending them - forever."

The two turned and stared where the rogue pointed.

THEY blotted out the entrence. Thousands of them, blue, and silver fleshed, some dressed in Inquisition uniforms, others in the garb of pilgrims, soldiers, peasents Some advanced on the hunters, others on the rogue, who vanished in an instant... they left the girl alone.

"Go to Redcliff, give them this," he placed a note in her right hand, "and THIS is for you. Fear not, soon none will exist who would want to take it from you." It was a hefty bag of gold and jewels. "They who held it are no more; as are any who cared for it. GO."

She wished she could, but the spectacle before her eyes was so terrifying; and yet - just so mesmerizing.

The hunters tried to rise to standing; but were knocked back down. They tried to fight; but found their blades would cut only fabric. Then, as they screamed, at first in defiance, but soon in terror, they were slowly, deliberately, pulled by their limbs in opposite directions till the tendons, and ligaments gave. finaly, their leather armor was ripped open - soon followed by their bellies. They tried to scream; a hard thing to do... without a tongue.

Soon it was over, and the throng gazed at her... and seemed to smile; and then, just as suddenly as they had appeared, they were gone - following the whistle of the rogue.

She staggered forward to the descicated bodies, then walked away - carerfully.

As she left, she swore she heard a low moan from deep in the cave.

...

Making her way to the gates of Redcliff village, the elf saw the destruction of the houses and farms of some. Then watched as the murdered, their disemboweled bodies soon crawling to their feet, mindlessly moved forth, seemingly without direction; these soon turned their attention to the sound of her labored breathing, her faltering footsteps. These did not leave her alone.

Thirteen advanced on the frightened girl from all sides as she held open the bag as an offering. They ignored it. She dropped it, and put up her trembling hands, backing toward a cliff face.

Her eyes pleaded, her mouth open in a soundless plea for mercy... theirs were souless, registering nothing, not even rage. Their mouths dripped with blood, fur, puss from their own greymatter as it dripped from open head wounds.

The first blunt arrow took out two of them as it passed through the head of one and into the one next to it.

A man dressed in expensive looking light armor grabbed her from behind and pulled her aside before driving a blue steel sword into the heads of three corpses, stopping their advance. "Care to join us among the living?" the handsome Ferelden said with a nervous laugh.

Five others: three warriors, and two rougues - one a Kunari archer - took up her bag for her, and flanked her as they cut a swath through the corpses, heading toward Redcliff Village.

"Slow fuckers," the Ferelden muttered, "Slower than their silver skinned cousins. Those fuckers seem to be selective... if curiously so. But these are, well...," he sighed as her carefully wiped off the fresh blood, "they kill everything not them, but, as long as there are only a handfull, they are far easier to kill. I had to stop trying to kill the others. I couldn't even cut into them at all."

Another young female elf joined him, this one a dual blade weilding rogue. She took his hand. He kissed it softly, then her lips. She turned and smiled at the mute. "What is it about you Fereldens and saving damsels in distress."

"Can't help it. What is it with you elves and making us heroes feel like little boys in need of rescuing you... when you... have... no need of it? Ah sod it." he slapped himself in the forehead, as the others burst out laughing. He blushed,"Oh fuck," he muttered through his grin, "that made sense... somehow... gaw!"

The elf rogue pat his head, "Easy lover," she sighed, "I still liked it."

He smiled, "Liar."

The two elves looked at one another. They could have been sisters. The mute slightly more lean, and hungry looking, but just as lovely, and perhapse more sensual in her movements.

"Lil is going to eat you up. In a good way... trust me." The rougue sighed appreciatively.

The Ferelden grinned, then went on with his observations, "Strange thing was... they - the silver skinned - just grabbed my sword, tossed it aside, and knocked me to the ground, But these? A child could kill them with a rake... if they had courage. Truth is, they scare the shite out of me as well, and I've slept with a dragon - you talk about performance anxiety. The names Bohlen. And yours?"

She pointed to her mouth, and shook her head.

His handsome eyes turned sad, "Poor girl," he all but whispered, "you're mute?"

She nodded, her eyes looking about hurredly.

"Well," he said, taking her hand, "You're safe now; well... SAFER. Come. we'll take you to our benefactor/lover/godess... all around gorgeous pain in the ass. She'll just love you... literaly. She has a fondeness for survivors, and women..."

"We have dripping, drooling, staggering company! And NO it isn't Ogheren." the Kunari rogue shouted as they approached the outskirts of the old Inquisituion camp at the crossroads. "They're all dead, scratch that... undead. A few hundered. Maybe those goody-goody silver fuckers found a few bandit, and blood mage camps. The Inqusition got over-run"

A great surge of wind was heared above, and the crew looked up.

A great black, and crimson dragon momentarily blotted out the full moon as it passed over, incinerating a line of the mindless undead as they advanced on them.

The Ferelden smiled, "And look, a pretty birdy." He turned to the mute, "Wanna meet Lil?"

She gestured to the dragon as it did another pass.

He nodded, "She's alot friendlier, and easier on the eyes when she calms down. Besides, you are about to become one VERY wealthy young woman. SHE can get you the best prices for your gifts there. "

She looked at him, bewildered.

"Trust me. Let's say she's a dragon... fighter... of sorts." he said with a wink. "Either way, we're sure you'll love her. What say we go say HI'?"

The group began running toward the box canyon that once served as home to the Dragon that menaced the Hinterlands during the time of the breach.

...

She made three more passes before her manna stores gave out, killing - if that was an accurate, or true observation - over eighty percent of visible undead. Or did she?

She headed into the box canyon to land, hoping she could recover in relative peace, as she had no lyrium to replenish her manna.

Also... clothes would have been nice... but impossible

She was spent as she landed (dropped) to the bone strewn former dweling of the last dragon to inhabit this place.

She shivered slightly as she collapsed to the ground, and tried desprately to stay awake; but soon succumbed, stretching her beautiful, exhausted body down.

Rest was too brief, and the sensations she was awoken to were less than auspicious. Two badly masticated corpses of bandits were advancing on her prone form.

Their eyes held no lust, no hate, anger, hunger... they simply were going to do whatever they were compeled to do to her.

She sat up, wearily, and met their gaze. They kept advancing.

She staggered to her feet, attempting to engage them with her sensuality.

They knocked her back to the ground, and attempted to bite her hands, her thighs, feet, neck, shoulder... anywhere, and nowhere. They cared nothing for her sexualy as a woman, or considered her even as a meal, they simply wanted her torn open by any means necesary - why? To spread this curse? The gifts of the concubine did nothing to stop it.

She crawled back away as one grabbed her right wrist, and took her thumb into it's mouth. The other pinned her other arm to the ground, lowered his slathering jaws down from her face, his hands grasping her throat and right breast. He looked down at the yielding ample mass of warm, soft, supple flesh.

She wrythed in panic as she watched in horror as his diseased mouth neared her tender, exposed flesh. Saliva dripped wettly from his red, gaping mouth.

Suddenly a thick spike jutted from between it's eyes as well as it's brain which leaked out, all over naked breasts. The other was likewise dispatched.

She gazed up at her saviors...

Her mind, once her most valued asset, betrayed her. It's thoughts unsettling, disturbing -unchecked.

Boys... well, 'young men' at the cusp of fifteen... marrying age in all of Thedas... still, too inexperienced for her. But all wide-eyed, full of courage and... and... and here she was: all of twenty one; happy to be alive... and naked. (What?)

She was still drowsy, weakened.

One took off his shirt to cover her as the rest turned away.

It was as if her exhausted body was possessed by a more determined will.

Any port in a storm - she felt her face grin. (Wait...)

It all happened before she knew what she was saying, or doing.

"This will never do," she said in mock indignation, "first, I insist you all... (NO!) BATHE ME!". She dropped the shirt.

They went slack-jawed.

"That old minning dock will do nicely. Trust me, I'm more fun when I'm wet." she said with a coltish smile.

She led them down the path to the lower valley floor, and into the water beneath the destroyed dock. By the time they left the water, she had taught them all they needed to know to pleasure any woman, by touch. No further. It had been a compulsion she felt overwhelmed by, and powerless to prevent - the First. Was it him controling her as well a Saris?

She left, thinking herself violated by her own mind, but felt her vitality restored; in fact, it had multiplied - drained from the youths into her... their virulent energy. They were pleasantly tired, but her power was boundless...

She was going to need it.