My thanks to Wyl and Zeeji for reading and taking the time to review.

Chapter 11

The Halla Tainted

Dust clouded into the air, enveloping the pair as they coughed and choked upon the stone flooring. As the dust settled, Duncan pushed himself to his knees, reaching down to help Adaia into a crouching position. Frowning, the young Warden turned to glare at the now closed off entrance.

Rising to his feet, the young man reached down and assisted the elven woman regain her own footing. Once the dust had settled, the pair noticed a faint green glowing ahead. With a nod to one another, the two stalked away from the rubble and toward where the chamber they had found themselves within widened.

Green, phosphorous lichen covered the stone floor, its glow lighting the immense chamber. Statues portraying elven Gods and other notables lined the floor in various stages of decay. A frown settled upon Adaia's face as she took in the destruction of her heritage.

She did not notice as Duncan straightened, his eyes narrowed as they scanned to the furthest reaches of the chamber, its back wall hidden in the shadows and other debris.

"Something wrong?" the elf asked as she turned to regard her companion after a moment.

Taking a deep breath, the young man replied, "There's something just…tickling at the edges of my senses," he gave a slight shudder as he turned his eyes toward the woman. "It may be darkspawn. Or simply corruption. I can't tell from this distance."

Her eyes following the path of the young human's the elf responded dryly. "Either way, not very good options."

Duncan gave a sigh, nodding his dark head. He wished now, more than he had in some time, for that mysterious dark bladed dagger he had 'acquired' at the Circle Tower just a couple of years ago. Dark eyes went to Adaia's fair face. He could then give it to her and help assure her safety against the taint.

He gave a shake of his head, scowling to himself. He had long lost the blade; wishing would not send it back to his hand.

"So," Adaia's voice broke through his reverie, "we go forward." Her blue eyes went back to the now closed off passage they had just passed through. "Or we could simply stand here and do nothing."

The young human winced at the woman's voice. She had tried masking her irritation with humor, but Duncan had traveled with her long enough now to notice that she was barely holding her temper. Being under the earth was not something any elf – especially one born to the wilds – appreciated. He remembered clearly Fiona's own discomfort during their sojourn into the Deep Roads.

Tipping his head forward, the young warden patted his weapons before striding ahead, assuming an assuredly he did not feel. "Guess we go ahead then, eh?" he quipped, trying to maintain the forced humor as the elf.

Sighing heavily, glancing once more backwards, the elf shouldered her bow and stalked after the human.

0O0

The corridor they traversed remained at level with the earth above, not delving any deeper into the earth, as far as Duncan could tell. The sensation of the taint danced along his senses, and the young warden found himself playing absently with one of the amulets about his neck. One amulet, a silver locket depicting a rearing griffon, contained a sample of the joining blood from his own joining. A sentimental reminder of a time he had wanted to forget just months earlier. Now…well, it was difficult for him to put into any coherent thought exactly how he felt about the Order now. He had been given responsibility, trust…something he knew that his former commander had difficulty giving him. And, who could blame her.

He had, after all, killed her fiancé.

So, Duncan bore her no ill feeling. Especially since she was dead as she was. He had always felt it best not to think ill of the dead.

Or, not to think of them at all.

It was the second amulet – a small, silverite vial – that his fingers twisted around and twirled as they walked through the corrupted corridors just beneath the forest floor of the Forest. Within that vial contained a mixture of darkspawn blood and lyrium – and some other magical stuff that Duncan still could not wrap his mind around. Like many other Wardens, Duncan had taken to carrying a small amount with him. He had never had occasion to use it – an emergency joining. Never had cause. But, being this far deep, feeling the darkspawn taint around them, he found himself twisting the chain and gliding his fingers over the smooth surface more than once.

He really hated being underground. No matter how deep they traversed.

A glance to his right told him that his companion did not enjoy being so far beneath the surface either. Probably hated it more than he, actually. He had to admire her, though. She was holding her temper far better than he thought she would have. Perhaps the responsibility of tracking kept her mind active enough that she did not have time to complain.

However, they had found no escapes back to the surface as of yet.

Adaia had assured Duncan that they were not going deeper, although it certainly felt it to him.

Finally, after a few hours of walking, Adaia called a halt, bending down to crouch over the phosphorous covered ground. Kneeling beside her, Duncan watched as the elf tapped an area about either inches from where she knelt, bringing her hand back to rest upon her knee.

Looking up, she asked, "See that?"

Confused, the young warden glanced down. All he saw was the same green, glowing moss covered dirt they had been following for hours. He did not need to answer verbally; apparently his confusion was written upon his face, for the elf laughed.

"Do you see any different between this patch of moss," she tapped before her, "and this patch?" she reached behind Duncan, pointing out an area of lighter colored moss. He said as much and she grinned. "The darker moss," she pointed to the area that had originally caught her attention, "has been walked upon." She pointed to a spot that vaguely resembled a foot print. Rising gracefully to her feet she stood, Duncan scrambling to his as she turned to face the direction they had just come from.

"Do you see our footsteps?" she pointed to two sets of clear footprints, each set glowing brighter among the moss. Duncan nodded and she continued. "Recent passage disturbs the moss, breaking it to release the fluid that grows within them, that makes them glow." Her grin turned self-depreciative. "My brother," her words softened at his memory, "could tell you what, exactly that fluid is, how it was created, its purpose and so forth. Me?" Her grin widened. "I can tell you that once some time passes, the fluid dries, the moss dies, and you have a darkened, dead appearing reminder of the passerby." She turned again, pointing once more to the darkened patch.

"So, this is the way Rikhard went?" Duncan asked, frowning down at the moss.

Shrugging, Adaia answered, "More than likely. We already know he did not exit the same way he had entered. And I have not seen any indication that he passed back this way. Only forward," she waved her hand forward with an underhand brush.

"So, forward still?" the warden asked, sighing heavily at the prospect.

For some reason, Adaia found it amusing, and chuckled lightly. "Yes, Warden, we go forward."

"And you are certain we're not getting any deeper into the ground?" Duncan just could not let it go.

Chuckling again, the elf straightened, shifting her shoulders to readjust her bow and quiver. "If I thought we were going deeper beneath the earth, would I be as pleasant as I am now?" she asked, quirking a straight brow, that smirk still upon her lovely face.

"Probably not," Duncan agreed as he adjusted his cloak and tucked both amulets back under his leather jerkin. Bowing extravagantly with a wave of his hand, he said, "Shall we?"

Shaking her head, glad to see some of the playfulness back, Adaia gave a nod, and continued to follow the dark patch of damaged moss.

0O0

He was certain she lied to him, to keep him calm. The earthen walls seemed to close in on him. The ceiling – if it could be called such – was far too high above for him to make out its features. Every now and again he would jump as a feathery length of dirt filled webbing would brush against his forehead.

Adaia – Maker damn the conniving elf – would only chuckle with each stumble or startle the young human would make.

"Calm, Duncan," came Adaia's rather smug voice from just ahead of him. He looked up, peering into the gloom. He could make out the elf's track, marked by the glowing moss in her wake. A glance behind revealed his own still glowing passage.

After an hour of walking, Adaia paused, her blonde head tilting upwards, ears perked to the side. In the eerie green glow he could clearly see the frown that formed upon her pretty face.

"Do you hear that?" she asked after a moment's hesitation, brow furrowed in concentration.

The human tilted his ear slightly, straining to hear what the elf had. A frown crossed his own face as he shook his head.

"Maybe you're hearing things?" he suggested with a grin.

Scoffing, the Dalish huntress showed clearly his suggestion that she could possibly be mistaken. Remaining still for a moment longer – long fingered hand held up as indication Duncan should hold his silence – she continued to listen, her hand unconsciously seeking out her bow.

Blinking, Duncan opened his mouth to speak, when the sound of chittering came to his ear. Startled, he spun around, glancing fearfully into the shadows. He knew those sounds; heard them in his sleep; the one sound that could possibly override the murmuring of darkspawn in his dreams.

Pulling his blades free, the warden was only slightly calmed as Adaia pulled her bow from her shoulder, carefully notching an arrow, holding it down as her sharp elven eyes pierced the gloom around them.

The chittering grew louder, but it did not sound from around them. With a start, the pair realized that the noises came from directly above.

With a shout, Adaia rolled away from Duncan, her bow up and sighted as the first of the giant spiders dropped directly into their midst. Forewarned, Duncan jumped back as Adaia loosed an arrow upon the enormous arachnid. It pierced the bloated body, and as she notched another arrow, Duncan swept in, fighting his fear of the creatures, to drive both of his blades deeply into the soft body, twisting away as sticky fluids gushed from the wounds.

Chittering softly, the creature flopped to its belly and did not rise again.

"Well," Duncan chuckled, giving the corpse a good kick, "That was easy."

An intake of breath told the young Warden just how foolish his prediction had been as several more of the oversized creatures dropped from their unseen webs above.

"Thanks, Duncan!" Adaia hissed out, as though the presence of more spiders had been the fault of the young human. Scowling, the elf slung her bow across her shoulders as she pulled her blades free of their sheaths.

"Sorry!" he shouted as he twisted around, spinning with both blades held out, slicing across the mandibles of one approaching monstrosity. His heart clenched as he took note of the glistening liquid that dripped from its maw. Great…

"Ware poison!" the warden shouted his warning as he twisted away, spinning to bring both blades to bear against the slowly turning creature. With a growl, fighting against the bile that rose in his throat, Duncan dashed forward, blades leading, to drive them deeply into the creature, nearly decapitating the creature in the process. Pushing off the soft body, Duncan turned, regaining his bearings as the spider slowed, its head barely attached to its body as the mandibles clacked together once…twice…and then ceased.

Twisting Fang, Adaia jammed her blade into the clacking mandible of her spider, twisting it further to pin the sharp maw open. Elbow twisted upwards in an awkward position, Adaia drew back her other blade – a curved bladed short sword Maric had given her during their years in the Rebellion.

With a cry, she plunged the blade deeply into the bunched eyes of the creature, jumping back and releasing her hold on the mandibles as it staggered backwards. Her back brushed against the dirt wall behind her. Dropping to the ground, she rolled beneath the creature's striking maw, rising to her feet slightly behind the nearly blinded spider. One sharpened appendage jabbed out at its foe, but the agile elven warrior danced back, beyond its reach. Her short sword swept out, meeting the still jabbing appendage, neatly severing it below the middle joint. Off balanced, the spider tilted, its remaining seven appendages skittering along the ground in an effort to maintain balance. Adaia, determined not to give it time to regain, jumped at the beast, body slamming it with her shoulder, and it tilted downward toward the ground. As she danced back, both blades swept forward, slicing two oozing paths along its backside. Frantically, the creature sought to regain its balance and meet its foe. But once again Adaia's blades found their mark, and soon the giant spider lay upon its belly, its life fluids oozing from deep wounds that it would soon succumb to.

Turning about, her eyes searching her companion, she gave out a cry as Duncan was enveloped beneath the hairy form of a spider twice the size of the others. With a muffled cry, the young man called out for his companion, who raced toward the pair.

Dancing to the front of the beast, Adaia jabbed with quick thrusts into the mandibles of the spider, keeping its attention upon her and not the unfortunate warden pinned beneath its bulk. Snapping forward, it raised its body enough for Duncan to get a better grip on his daggers and, with a quick movement, he managed to drive on blade into the creature's underbelly.

Giving out a shriek, the massive spider shifted momentarily, stupidly switching its attention from the darting elf to the pain beneath it. As it turned its front away from her, Adaia jumped forward, driving her dagger, Fang, deeply into the shoulder of the monstrosity. She gave her blade a good twist as the spider yanked its head toward her. Clear fluid spilled from the wound, pooling at Adaia's feet. As the spider twisted at her, it pulled her blade along with it. Still clutching her weapon, the elven warrior was yanked forward, her feet slipping in the spilled spider blood. With a startled cry, the elf's second hand shot forward, unconsciously seeking a hold. With a quick movement, the spider's mandible latched onto her forearm, piercing flesh and chipping bone. Her started cry turned into a shriek of pain as she attempted to twist away, tearing Fang from the spider flesh to bang upon the locking grip of the giant spider.

From beneath the beast, Duncan, now covered with the sticky fluids of the spider, could hear Adaia's distressed cries. Movements became more frantic as the Warden continued to hack his way from beneath the behemoth. The creature shifted again, seeking to free itself from the punishment it was receiving, but determined not to let go of the prey it currently held, the spider sidestepped, driving its sharpened leg downward, seeking to impale its tormenter. Duncan twist, tilted his head away, narrowly avoiding becoming impaled upon the creature's hind leg.

Pulling at her arm, Adaia swallowed the fear and bile that rose in her throat. The spider gave her arm a shake, much like a dog worrying a doll. Her feet slipped again on the spilled fluids, but she dug her heels in, determined not to be pulled closer to the snapping inner maw, from which glistening poison dripped. Numbly, she dropped her short sword as she raised Fang, seeking a target for her enchanted blade. Realizing she had only one option, she gritted her teeth.

"Adaia!" Duncan shouted as he drove his blades into the spider's underbelly, pulling one free to plunge it deeply just above the initial wound. He pulled his other dagger free and drove it in, this time above his head and pulled, using it as a handhold to pull himself free of the bulk that continued to keep him pinned. Struggling, face red with exertion, he inched his way closer to his dagger, pulling free the lower blade to plunge it above the first. Slowly and painfully, he repeated the process until his torso was free of the hairy, smelly bulk above him.

The sharp mandible scraped along the bone of her arm as she pushed her forward, driving her pinned arm deeper, wedging it to the elbow. Twisting her damaged arm, she managed to grasp hold of the creature, her fingers wrapping around the bonelike mandible. Taking a deep breath, she pulled Fang up, digging her heels in deeply to the moss covered earth. With a cry, she drove forward, using her body to force Fang as deeply into the creature's head as she could. The hold upon her arm tightened, and she shrieked again in agony as she felt flesh and muscle tear. Knowing she had little time left before her arm would break, she gave her dagger a savage twist, renting it to the side, tearing into the small head.

Now the spider sought to get away from its tormentors. Releasing the wedged arm, it attempted to back away, but Adaia followed it. Beneath it, Duncan continued to drive his blades deeply into the body, until he was fully free of its bulk. Rising, he took note of Adaia's bloodied arm and then turned back to the spider. With a shout, the young Warden jumped upon the creature's back, driving both blades into the junction of where the creature's torso met the small head. As Adaia continued her assault upon its face, Duncan sliced through the flesh and muscle holding the head to its body. With a final shudder, the head fell free of the massive body. Leaping free of the creature, Duncan watched with morbid fascination as the body continued to click awkwardly, limping from its injured leg, until it finally stopped, falling to the ground.

A hiss brought his attention back to his companion, who gripped her arm tightly to her chest. Feeling ill, hoping she had not been poisoned, Duncan reached into his pouch with the healing potions and poultices as he rushed to her side.

Her arm was a bloody mess. Flesh and muscle had been torn, and he was certain that, if not broken, her arm had fractured. Pouring some water onto a clean bandage, Duncan cleaned the wound, trying to ignore Adaia's hissing as she fought not to flinch away. Wishing they had a mage with them, Duncan fumbled out the healing poultices, wrapping one securing around her arm as she quickly drank down one of the healing potions. Grimacing at the sour taste, she pushed the empty vial back into Duncan's pack as the young man continued to wrap her injured arm in a clean bandage.

The pain subsided, and the elven warrior could feel that almost forgotten tingle as flesh and muscle knitted together. Without a healer, she knew that it would be many days before she could hold a blade with that arm, or even sight down her bow. Frowning, knowing that being able to fight only one handed made her a liability, she snarled at the young man that they had wasted enough time and needed to continue forward.

"Now wait just a second," The warden protested, tying the bandage and then working on a sling for her to hang about her neck. "Just give it a moment."

Sighing heavily, Adaia closed her eyes, regaining her composure. Opening them, she did a visual inspection of her companion.

Covered head to toe with sticky spider fluids, Duncan was a comical sight. His dark hair, kept long, stuck up in sharp spikes about his head. His eyebrows were plastered tight against his face, and his leathers fairly glistened with the stuff. After he slung the sling about her neck and helped her set her arm, she turned him about, noticing his back and backside were completely pasted with green phosphorus. Chuckling, she backed away, shaking her head at her companion.

Sheepishly, the young man raised a hand to his head, trying in vain to tame his locks and brush away the phosphorus.

Despite the pain in her arm, Adaia could not help but laugh at the sight the young man before her presented. Taking no offense, Duncan joined in, quieting to check over his handiwork.

"Are you certain you can continue on?" he asked after a moment, his eyes straying to her injured arm.

Nodding, Adaia remarked, "I can still track, although in a fight I may not hold up as well." She gave a slight shrug, grimacing in pain as the movement aggravated her injury.

"Need another potion?" Duncan offered as he began to dig into his pouch.

"No," Adaia answered, placing a hand upon his arm. "We do not have an endless supply of those. You did a good job with my arm." She gave him a wan, tired smile. "I doubt any poison got into it and the poultices will pull any infection out and the healing potion I have taken has already sped up the healing process."

Dark eyes fixed upon her pale face. In the green glow of the moss, her face had an eerie, sallow caste to it. However, her eyes were clear and as determined as ever. And if Duncan learned one thing about his traveling companion it was that she was perhaps the most stubborn person he had ever met. Arguing with her would serve no purpose.

And so, with a nod, he agreed to continue. Helping her resheath her discarded short sword, Duncan then allowed Adaia to continue to lead them through the underground tunnel.

0O0

Only the occasional spider harried their passage, to both Duncan and Adaia's relief. They did not want to have another battle to contend with, especially with Adaia practically out of any fight.

The path left behind by the rogue Warden mage soon led the pair to a small chamber. Stone and marble lay crumbled along the floor, great swaths of earth and natural stone protruded from the ceiling and walls, flowing over the ancient stonework. Piles of desiccated animal carcasses littered the floor along with the room's former furnishings, now little more than rotten fabrics and dust.

However, upon the further wall stood a mural, one depicting a great city filled with graceful spires and soaring buttresses. As the pair neared and gently wiped away the remaining dust, they could see that the inhabitants of this wonder of a city had been added, walking among the great hanging gardens or stopping by the stalls.

It was a complete picture of a city that had once, long ago, existed. The inhabitants small statured, slender and graceful. Dressed in flowing gowns and tailored outfits, mages and nobles alike sharing the same place.

It was an elven city.

Adaia stumbled back, her blue eyes wide with disbelief as she stared at the relief before her. Much of the mural had been damaged over time, but what was left…she shook her head, feeling slightly lightheaded.

"This must have been Arlathan," the elven warrior muttered, stepping closer again, her hand hovering just over the form of an elven mage as she smiled up into the face of a male.

Duncan only nodded his head, his eyes fixed upon the picture before them. As Adaia continued to stare with longing at the mural, Duncan moved away, his dark eyes skimming along the surface. Here and there the picture remained intact, however much was crumbling, dusty rock. As he moved along the mural, he paused, eyes narrowing as his brow furrowed. In the center of one piece – still intact and picturing a rising sun – was an indent, clean, free of dust and debris, and in a cylinder shape. Running his sensitive fingers along the smooth surface of the indent, Duncan called Adaia over as he continued his examination.

It took a moment before the elf could remove her sight from the mural, her heart light. She had to be certain to contact Marethari later, to let her and the clan know of this place…

"Duncan?" She asked as she drew near, her eyes watching as the human's long fingers traced over the indent within the rising sun.

"What do you make of this?" he asked as he stepped back, allowing the elven woman to lean in and examine the spot.

A small frown formed upon her lips and her eyes went immediately to the ground at their feet, searching. "Something had been kept there," she began.

"Until recently," Duncan finished, nodding, his arms crossed at his chest, a scowl forming upon his face. "Whatever was there," he pointed as Adaia straightened. "is gone."

Taking a breath, Adaia faced her companion. "It would appear that whatever had been held there was what your mage was looking for."

Eyes skimming along the mural, Duncan's frown deepened. "Any idea where he may have gone?"

Adaia stepped back to the mural, searching for any idea, any evidence, but found nothing. Sighing, she rubbed at her eyes for a moment. "The only real clue is a mention of Asha'bellanar from Marethari." The elven woman reminded Duncan as he stepped near to her side.

"Ash…oh, Flemeth," the warden nodded, recalling their conversation weeks ago with the keeper.

The pair remained silent for some time, Adaia's eyes fixed upon the image of the long lost elven city, Duncan's dark orbs fixed upon his feet. Marethari's mention of the ancient witch had been more speculation than anything. But the warden knew they had little else to go on. He lifted his head, searching the room, taking note of a small opening at the far right wall. Frowning, he stepped to it, ducking down to get a better view. Cool air wafted from the opening, an indication that this had been how Rikhard more than likely escaped this underground chamber.

Sighing, he planted his hands to his knees and rose. "To the Wilds?" he asked quietly, shaking his head, uncertain if that was truly the direction they should go.

With great effort, Adaia left her place in front of the image, and stepped to Duncan's side. "What if we are wrong?" she asked quietly as she placed a strong hand upon the young man's shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

Shaking his dark head, Duncan let out a frustrated sigh. "What other choice do we have?" he asked after a time. "Unless he was thoughtful enough to leave a sign 'Find me at the old Grey Warden post'," he scowled down at his feet again. "Which I really doubt."

"We could always go back to the clan," Adaia suggested, her voice small. "Maybe Marethari found something out while we have been away."

Duncan remained silent, still staring down at his feet, as his mind backtracked to where the clan had camped and then the route further out to the Wilds. It may cost them an extra few days…"Didn't Marethari mention something about the clan moving along?"

"I think she may have," Adaia admitted. "However, she may have had them remain, until she heard further from us," the elf shrugged her shoulders, and then turned Duncan around so that he faced her. "It is for you to decide, Duncan. We will lose a few days going back to where we left the clan rather than continue on to the Wilds."

Scowling, really hating the idea that it was his decision, the young warden nodded. "We can backtrack to where the clan was camped," he agreed. "If they are there, we can, at the very least let Marethari know of this chamber. If they are gone…we've lost maybe three or four days…"

Sighing, still uncertain, Duncan looked up into Adaia's face. She offered him a weak smile and an even weaker shrug, indicating her own indecision in this matter. What they had hoped for upon discovering what Rikhard had searched for, they had not found it. Not a clear indication of what he was up to, not any indication where he may have headed after leaving the ruins.

One thing was for certain – they could not remain here. A decision one way or the other had to be made. So…

"Okay, we'll backtrack, and make our way to the Wilds," Duncan decided with a firm nod.

Smiling, Adaia stepped forward, ducking down to enter the small opening Duncan had discovered. With a final glance around the chamber, the young warden ducked his head and followed after the elf.