Need a hand? Make a hand.
Blood magic had always intrigued the young inquisitor.
Of course, she kept herself from becoming too invested in it's practice. That sort of magic had a track record of corrupting those that wielded it, and the more gifted the mage the faster the fall. She considered herself just a little bit gifted. Having saved the world... lead an army... defeated a crazy god mage thing called 'Corphyshit'.
More than a little gifted, maybe.
However she did dabble into those forbidden arts here or there, always with her own blood. Just to test the waters, expand her knowledge. It was only the natural thing to do with how many tomes she'd read about this type of sorcery. Only today had it really become a necessity.
Natalie Trevelyan scoffed at the word. 'Necessity'. Perhaps vanity or pride would be better suited.
Because she stood now, in the middle of an absolute massacre. Almost three dozen bodies by her count, belonging to mercenaries that had been harassing one of the small villages in the Hinterlands. They'd end up dead eventually, a large bounty having been placed on their heads. Better that their deaths do more good than line someone's pockets... still, she took a moment to consider the consequences of her actions.
On one hand, she would cast the spell, and return to the mess which remained of the Inquisition. Hopefully, by the end of the week they would find new purpose. The world would certainly need them if what Solas was planning came to pass... and the Inquisition would need it's Inquisitor. Bethany would understand, wouldn't she? Blood magic was not inherently evil... and there was merit to it's use here. Because the alternative... well-
On the other hand, she would remain with only one hand. One arm, for that matter.
The choice seemed pretty clear to her. With a sharp breath, the brown haired mage steeled herself for what was to come. Very sticky blood, a whole lot of pain, and a side of overwhelming power... none too pleasant a situation. But perhaps it would be worth the risk. And if it weren't well, it was too late to stop now. The words of the spell began spilling out of her mouth, and her single arm raised to channel the spell.
A scene that seemed far too sinister for the kind hearted Inquisitor to be at the centre of played out... blood was drained from the bodies around her, limbs snapping into impossible angles as each was bled dry. It collected in a red, misty cloud above the mage, folding into and over itself as it grew. As the spell reached it's peak the cloud turned into a disgusting blob of red. And it fell, washing over the woman as in a single, powerful wave.
It didn't even feel like drowning, because water wouldn't force it's way down her throat as insistently as the blood did. The blood moved, almost boiling as it flowed steadily into her mouth, her eyes, her ears. Then it started to merge with the still painful stump that had become of her left arm. The veins form first, blood congealing and fusing into the delicate circulatory system. Next are the nerves, and in turn the bones. By the time muscles are beginning to develop the Inquisitor is on the brink of blacking out from both pain and suffocation.
When the spell is finally complete she collapses onto her hands and knees, groveling weakly out of a crimson puddle. The blood is everywhere. It's all she can taste, all she can smell, and wiping it away with her hands doesn't help-
Hands.
Natalie opened her eyes and saw her left arm, almost the same as it was before... pale skin, slightly tanned from too much time traveling under the sun, and a delicate yet steady hand. Except now it was covered in a layer of quickly drying blood.
'I should wash this off.' She thinks, as she struggles onto her feet... and promptly passes out from exhaustion.
Thump. Another one bites the dust?