- See also: Hurlock
We brought it into Lord Varron's chamber, strong men on both sides holding the shackles. It had been stripped of weapons and beaten until we judged it barely capable of walking.
The thing spoke. "Told them they would die." Its voice was guttural and savage, like a beast trained to mimic the language of men, but we made out its words clearly enough.
"Yes," said Lord Varron. "You are smarter than your fellow beasts."
"Yes," said the beast.
"I would know more of this," said Lord Varron, "that we might understand your people and negotiate."
"You will," said the beast. "Your men beat me until their knuckles bled. My blood mixed with theirs. Soon they will hear the song. Soon their blood will burn, and I will lead them."
The men all looked to their hands, for the blood-sickness of the darkspawn was known to us. When they did, the beast wrenched the shackles from their grip. Then it was upon Lord Varron, holding him by the throat.
"There is no talk," it said. "No negotiation. You will die. Your world will die. Now you understand."
It snapped Lord Varron's neck and killed four men before we finally killed it.