DragonAge: The Halla Awakened

Chapter 2

The stench of damp creosote, rot and filth, tinged with the sharp odor of humanity permeated the heavy air, not only with its stink but coloring the very air itself with a dusty gray. Nose wrinkling, the young man glanced about him, frowning as he watched the denizens of this underground realm scurry to and fro, some crouched in dark corners, other standing defiantly straight, glaring at any who would dare meet their eye. A frown turning the corners of his generous mouth downward, the blond human turned to his companions.

"I cannot believe that people live here," he muttered, casting an accusing eye to the tall red-headed woman in heavy armor.

Shaking her head, the woman frowned at her friend. "Darktown existed long before we arrived here, Hawke," she said, "And the guard…"

Raising a hand, the young man – Hawke – shook his head. "I'm sorry, Aveline," he repented, shaking his head further as he turned back, stepping further – deeper – in Darktown. "I know it's not your fault. It's just…" he swept a hand outward, encompassing the desolation and destitute surrounding them.

"I know," Aveline's voice softened as her green eyes followed Hawke's blue. "I could not begin to fathom that Ferelden would allow any to suffer so."

Snorting, the taller male with them, his blue eyes sharp, turned to the woman. "There may not be any 'Darktowns'," he grated, "but plenty of destitute and, after the Blight, desolation."

"Now, now," the blond dwarf who had listened to the conversation, mentally taking note of each of the humans' reaction to the underground community of Kirkwall, "children," the taller male glared at the dwarf while the shorter blond merely chuckled, "We're not here to change the world, afterall."

"Why not?" Hawke questioned, blue eyes scrunching slightly as he turned, brushing a long fingered hand down the leather jerkin he wore. "It would seem Kirkwall needs a little changing."

"Humph," the other male snorted, garnering the blond's attention. "What good would that do, Brother?"

Shrugging, Hawke offered the other a small smile. "Just seems the right thing to do, Carver. Not too long ago, you would have understood that."

"Yeah, right," Carver muttered, kicking at the dirt and soot the covered the ground of Darktown. "that was before…" his speech stopped, and he shook his head as he turned to follow his elder brother.

"I hope that this Warden can help us, Varric," Hawke said as Carver swept passed them, the blond's eyes seeking the dwarf's. "I still don't like the idea of approaching a Grey Warden…"

"What's there to worry about?" Varric questioned, his smooth voice rising ever so slightly.

"You know, I just met you and already I get this sense that I'm already in trouble."

"See?" Varric chuckled as he stepped around the taller human and resumed walking quickly to catch up with the longer-legged Carver and Aveline. "You and I are going to get along just fine."

"Oh? Because I realize you are just trouble waiting to happen?"

His chuckle deepening as he cast a quick eye to the human. "Already happened, Hawke. You just don't know it yet."

Stopping in his tracks, the young man frowned, shaking his head. Then, rushing to catch up, he asked, "And that's supposed to reassure me?"

OOO

The door swung open, revealing a fairly large chamber, the walls lined with various shelving, all filled to capacity with herbs, bandages, various surgical tools, and the like. Among those were set up various cots, all covered in white cloth, all empty.

Directly ahead, and to where Hawke's attention gravitated stood a man with sandy blond hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, his tunic and trousers stained with blood and other liquids. That blond head was bowed as he focused his attention upon a young boy who lay upon a cot, his worried parents hovering as a young elven woman, her blonde hair pulled in a neat bun, the skirts to her dress pulled up slightly to avoid tripping, stepped nearer them, speaking to them in soft tones as the healer continued his work.

Hawke was slightly started as he felt the pull of the Fade and a soft blue erupted from the healer's hands. Despite being warned that the Warden was a mage, the level of control and power that emanated from the healer was astounding, and watching the other man work was a thing of beauty. Letting out a breath the young Fereldan did not realize he held, he stepped closer inside, the others following at his heels.

With a slight cough, the boy on the cot stirred, eyes opening as the healer stepped back, staggering ever so slightly as the elven woman helped the boy's parents gather him up. She kindly declined any offer of payment they offered, and assisted them to the door. Carver watched as the pretty elf directed the family out of their clinic and into Darktown, the young man turning back to quickly catch up to his elder brother.

As they approached, the Warden mage turned away, seeming exhausted from his administrations. A flash of blue erupted about the man's form and they stopped short as he spun about, staff in hand, power flaring about his hands. Behind them, they heard the click of a locking mechanism and turned to watch as the elven woman now held a finely crafted bow in her hands, two arrows already notched, a third dangling from agile fingertips as she took aim directly upon Carver's head.

"I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation! Why have you disturbed it?" the mage demanded, his tired voice belying the power that emanated from him.

"Hold now," Hawke said, holding up his hands in a placating gesture, relieved as none of his companions, although startled by the hostility both healers now presented them with, had not reached for their weapons. "I thought Wardens were all about taint and death. Not healing and salvation."

"Wardens?" the Warden mage frowned, honey-brown eyes glancing back to where the elven woman stood, arrows still ready to fly. "Did they send you here?" he demanded, anger in his voice as his hands flared once more with power.

"Hold it there," Varric replied, Bianca held low to his hip, "we just need some information about the Deep Roads, is all."

"Anders…" the elven woman caught the mage's attention, a frown marring her pretty features. Nodding, the mage, still frowning and tense, turned to the intruders.

"We…I want nothing more to do with the Deep Roads," he said, sweeping his hand toward the door. "So, you can just go now, leave us alone."

"Now, wait a moment," Hawke stepped forward, "any information you could give us could save lives."

"How so?" Anders questioned, body still tense as his eyes darted toward the elf. "The Deep Roads are blighted, dangerous, terrible and….well, dangerous. You really don't want to go there."

"You've got the truth of it there, Blondie," Varric chuckled, head turned ever so slightly to watch as the elven woman glanced over at the Warden mage. "But, thing is, we're planning an expedition. Deeper than any have gone," Here the elf sputtered slightly, shaking her head as she gradually lowered her weapon.

"You are a fool," she said softly as she made her way around the group to stand slightly to the side, her blue eyes fixed upon the group.

"Oh?" Varric, now intrigued by the elf, turned his attention fully upon her. His sharp eyes took in the fine quality dress she wore, the easy grace with which she moved. She was well-fed and obviously well-off. The bow she held was of a design he had never seen before, and the technique of notching multiple arrows seemed an easy practice for her. Normally, he would have scoffed and taunted one doing so; this elf, however, seemed born to the bow. His eyes searched her face openly, taking note that there were no tattoos marking her as Dalish, yet noting the deep scar at the corner of her eye. Her accent…

"You Fereldan, too?" the dwarf asked, noticing that the elf frowned at him, but did not respond to his question. With a heavy sigh, realizing that the elven woman was going to continue to be obstinate, Varric turned his attention back toward Hawke and the Warden, who had carried on with their conversation.

"…Although," Anders paused, glancing over at the elf and then back to the man before him, "a favor for a favor? What say you to that?"

"Anders…" the elf said again, the frown remaining as her lips turned downward as she refocused her attention to her friend. "I don't think that is wise…"

"We need help, Adela," the mage responded, "And if these…fine folks can help us, all the better."

"Let's be very clear," Hawke said, glancing between mage and elf, "I don't do anything involving children or pets."

The comment caught the elf – Adela – off guard, and she giggled slightly, eyes widening slightly as she quickly shut her mouth. Varric smiled slightly, pleased to see that she was not as hardened as she had initially appeared. As the dwarf turned, he noticed Carver's attention fixed solidly upon the pretty elf. Chuckling softly, shaking his head, Varric turned back to where both mages were bartering their time.

"I have a friend, forced into the Gallows," Anders was explaining, his attention fully fixed upon Hawke. "We plan to free him," he swept his hand out to include the elven archer. "But, something may go wrong, and we may need back-up." He glanced over at Adela, watching as she gave him a slight shake of her head. He turned back to Hawke, smiling slightly, hoping that Adela would forgive his moment of disobedience. "I am certain you of all people would understand."

A fine blond brow rose. "I would not leave any mage to suffer in the Gallows, not if I had the power to help free him."

"Brother," Carver sighed from behind, "we are risking a lot of trouble should the Templars find out."

"Then make certain they do not," Adela said in a voice that seemed used to command. "If you do not feel up to the task, do not take it." She was now walking over to Anders' side, her blue eyes set upon the mage's face, her expression showing how clearly she disapproved of this plan.

"And if we don't, no Deep Roads information, am I right?"

Adela turned to Hawke, a determined set to her chin. "You have the right of it," she tilted her head slightly. "Just because you are a fellow Fereldan does not mean that we have cause to trust you. I'll not risk Anders or my safety."

"Don't you think that you are already in danger?" Aveline asked, "We could simply report you to the Templars."

"Aveline…" Varric grated out lowly.

Now facing fully the much taller human woman, Adela's eyes narrowed, "I promise you," she said between clenched teeth, ignoring how the guardswoman now bristled slightly at the elf's more menacing stance. "If I for a moment felt that any of you were a danger to Anders or myself…"

"Hey, hey!" Hawke stepping between the two women, turning to glare at Aveline, staring the woman down until she lowered her eyes contritely. He then turned back to Adela. "Mistress," he bowed slightly to the elf, "I promise you, we would never turn any mage over to the Templars."

"Right, yeah, never," Carver echoed, nodding his head as he bumped Aveline slightly. The guardswoman frowned, green eyes meeting the hostile blues of the tiny elven woman. The former officer searched the elf's face and eyes, noting that there was no fear, only firm resolve to protect what was important to her. Aveline frowned slightly, feeling that she should know the woman before her. However, Adela was an elf, and therefore had never served in any army or unit. However, the elven woman was protective of the Warden, and that was something Aveline could respect and understand.

Giving the elf a quick, firm nod of acknowledgement, Aveline stepped back, obviously revoking her previous half-threat. Adela relaxed slightly before turning her attention back to the mages, who had resumed their bartering of time. Several minutes later, Adela was leading them from the clinic, locking the door firmly behind the group.

Turning back to Anders, her frown deepened as she stepped nearer to her friend.

"Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you may well have landed us in?" She demanded as she settled her bow beside Anders' staff.

Rubbing at his eyes, Anders nodded. "We have to get Karl out of there, Adela," he moved his hand, and Adela watched as the tiny streaks of blue flashed along Anders' brown eyes.

Sighing, she reached over, patting his arm as she neared. "Then do me a favor, okay?" Anders lifted his head, watching his friend and former commander. "Come back to the house and rest." She lifted a hand as the mage began to protest. "You will need rest, and food, and possibly even a bath." She glanced back toward the door, her anxiety rising again.

"You're afraid they will come back, this time with an army at their back?" Anders carefully put his hands upon Adela's shoulders, pulling the elf around and into an embrace. "You've really become a bit of a lion, you know?"

Sighing against her friend's chest, Adela said, "It's this place. Kirkwall…everyone is just out for themselves, and the air itself just feels wrong and keeps clawing at me," she frowned lifting her head, "And with the Knight Commander…"

"Easy, Adela," Anders pushed her away a bit, looking into her eyes as he brushed away a stray lock of hair. "We'll be safe."

"I'll feel safer once we are able to get away from this place, Anders." She shook her head. "It was a mistake to come here. To bring you here…"

Shrugging his shoulders, Anders turned away, picking up his bladed staff as he handed Adela her bow. "It was the only choice we left you with, remember?" He tilted his head, smiling at his friend. "You could have left us behind…"

"To the Void with that," Adela cursed, cutting the air with one sweeping hand, scowling at her friend. "You are one of my dearest friends, Anders. And I have a duty and responsibility to Justice. How could I leave you…?" She shook her head, fatigue threatening as her adrenaline evaporated.

"Okay, okay," Anders chuckled, trying to ease the tension as he steered the elf toward the door. "Home, meal, and bath. I can do that."