(2023-04-08) Spider In A Web

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Author:	Athena
Summary:	Syarra and Roper pay a visit to their friendly neighborhood Ebon Blade neighbor in the Howling Fjord, and Mourn explains his part in the Mondragon web. 3k words.
Rating:	M for Mature 17+

Arc: Death Knight PR

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contains death knight

The Howling Fjord lives up to its name decently, although less dramatically so around the lone tower north of Westguard, where a certain death knight is known to reside.

Roper's mood hasn't let up. There's a deep chill around him, as he knocks way too hard on the door of the tower. There might be slight cracks in the wood. It's fine.

"Not his fault," Syarra murmurs as she waits by his side.

Mourn, who had been sitting at a table going over various hand-drawn maps, scowls at the door and, grabbing his runesword along the way, answers it. He does not say anything, seeing the pair of them, just continues his scowling.

Roper's expression is hidden beneath the helm, but he tilts his head. There's a drawl to his voice, the lowborn Stormwind accent pronounced, but there's a chill to it. "'Morning."

"I don't know where Mondragon is." Mourn's voice crackles with frustration. "Assuming that is why you're here."

Roper spreads his hands. "I'm fresh out of cookies to sell."

Syarra darts a glance at Roper, at that one, and says, "Maybe we also wanted to confirm our comrade was still functional."

Mourn glances at Syara almost bitterly. "Brought your girl this time, hmm?"

Syarra turns to him and says evenly, "I have a name. How is Westwind these days?"

"She brought me," Roper corrects, and the drawl is gone. "Mondragon's been on her to do list since we got here. We didn't forget that mission, Mourn."

Mourn first responds to Syarra. "You will have to ask Cobalt Company that one." Then, "Perhaps you will have better luck with Mondragon than I did."

"I like three against one odds better than one on one." Roper shifts slightly. "You've lost eyes on Westwind?"

Mourn lets out a short sigh. "They took her somewhere. By portal. If she is not safe with them, I will hunt Ben down."

"I do not think making an enemy of Cobalt Company would be the right move," Syarra says, watching Mourn carefully. "If she is with them, she should be safe. But what happened with Mondragon? I have only rumors."

Roper's left hand has picked up a tap against his left leg.

Mourn smirks. "Which Mondragon? Apparently there are three." His smile fades quickly. "I only fought the death knight, and…she seems to have some reason to keep me around. She bested me, but did not finish it."

"A portal. You're sure it was a portal? Did you see who opened it? Blonde mage, looks exactly like Colson but a woman?" Roper seems to be stuck on the 'they just casually went through a portal' information.

Mourn shakes his head at Roper's inquiry. "I got there too late. What I know is secondhand. I questioned the flight master in Westguard to find out where they went…" His wide smile suggests he might have scared it out of the dwarf. "But by the time I arrived there, they were gone. They were seen walking into the tavern, but not exiting. It could only have been a portal."

"Arrived where." Roper ‘asks.’

"Wintergarde…some 7th Legion construction in a place people are calling Dragonblight." Mourn crosses his arms. "It was…not easy getting information from them."

"7th Legion, I imagine not," Syarra nods. "They have a reputation. But none of them knew anything about portals working reliably again?"

Roper makes a faint, rolling sound of annoyance, as he tips his head back slightly.

"That, I could not say for certain. But I doubt Cobalt Company would trust their squads in an unstable portal…and there really was nowhere else they could have gone…unless someone was lying to me." His eyes glow brighter.

"They're fucking soldiers stuck on a war front with fucked up mail. Juicy gossip like that spreads, even among the void damned 7th," Roper says, the fingers of his left hand tapping faster. "How many people mentioned a portal?"

"Three. But only after I spent more time near them than they were…comfortable with." The smile returns. Mourn probably enjoyed lurking where he wasn't welcome.

Syarra smiles briefly in response, clearly imagining the scenario, and then shakes her head. "So portals are probably safe in some way, but the knowledge may not be widespread yet."

Roper mutters something under his breath, barely vocalized.”Unsubtle as a fucking hammer.” Louder he says, "I'll confirm it. Find out where she went. So that's one. Where did you fight Mondragon, the Scourge one, not that idiot who went missing, or the paladin who was working with her?"

"Here, at first." Mourn frowns. "She attacked a priestess here, and another — apparently the third Mondragon — came to her rescue. But…Mondragon fled when I came. Towards the mountains. That is where we truly fought."

"She attacked a priestess?" Syarra frowns. "Which priestess?"

Roper looks around them with increased interest, the tapping halting as he does.

Mourn shrugs. "I do not know the priestess, but…she is connected to the Mondragons in some way. But…I believe Kaela Mondragon knew I would come when she picked that fight."

"Why? Because she knew you were staying here?

Roper steps back to look up at the tower, tracking the direction of the upper floors.

"That is what I suspect, yes. Ben came by to…test me, and he mentioned she planned to pay me a visit first." Mourn crosses his arms. "She probably picked this place intentionally, then."

"Show me the top floor." It doesn't sound like a request. There's a pause before Roper over drawls, "Please. Wanna see if it's because of what you could see from here."

Syarra looks on, curious to see what Mourn will do.

Mourn steps aside, allowing them into the tower. "It does afford a decent view of Westguard. I was using it to watch for Ralaea's movements."

Syarra nods. "Good for defense as well."

Roper steps inside, and if he's taking much note of what Mourn's done with the place, it's not obvious in the movement of his helm at least. He seems much more interested in getting to the top of the tower.

As they move up to the top, Syarra looks around at the relatively bare interior of the tower. "I take it you don't get many visitors…"

"I wish that were the case." Mourn follows along behind them. "I had a…meeting with Ralaea that did not go as I would have hoped."

Roper is judging the angles of the tower, leaning what might look dangerously out along the edges, craning as if checking how many places they could be seen, and where they could see. He mutters a few times, too low under his breath to be heard.

"Ah," Syarra says, and then pauses before she adds, "You may want to keep some form of food or drink. Something that won't spoil. It makes people feel welcome."

"And I suppose I should clean my arms and armor while I'm at it?" His voice sounds mocking.

Syarra looks him up and down, raising one eyebrow, and says, "Only if you wanted to look… presentable."

"What, who doesn't love the look of a man covered in four day old fluids of his enemies? Women love that shit," Roper drawls sarcastically. He's still measuring something, almost climbing out along the edge of the tower. Roper is, as usual, practically gleamingly clean. If saronite could sparkle, his would.

"I am done being the man who pleases others. For your cause, I can pretend, but that is the best I will do. In my own time, I am the Lord of Blood." His eyes hold a defiant gleam.

"Hey, if Westwind's into it, I'm not gonna judge," Roper says, sounding slightly distracted.

He might be judging.

"…She is still looking for the man she lost. I told her…that he no longer exists." The bitterness returns to Mourn's voice.

Syarra looks away at that. She says, quietly, "We are not who we were, but it helps them to see the pieces that remain."

"I'm missing something," Roper mutters, and then louder. "You didn't know the priestess who came here? The one 'Kaela' attacked? You didn't recognize her, talk to her somewhere, fucking…wander around shirtless up here or something?"

Mourn frowns at the last thing. "No. Why?"

Syarra turns back to the two of them, and says, "There is the question of what the priestess was doing here."

"Because why does she come here, into the tower of a death knight, especially if she knows he's here, unless it's worth the risk to talk to him? She's never met him, but she knows he knows something, or she knows something he needs to know." Roper turns his head over his shoulder to look at Syarra, climbing back into the tower. There's no way to see his expression except for his eyes, but they look like they're smiling, briefly.

"Ah, I see. Allow me to provide context. She was lured here, I believe, and I was not present at the time she entered. When I arrived, there were Scourge outside. Only ghouls, nothing fancy, but enough of them that a lone priestess would struggle."

"Lured here… by the death knight Mondragon? What do you believe was the bait?"

"And why a priestess you've never met? How regular are your comings and goings? Do you come back at the same time every day?" Roper's voice has that clear note through it, the husky sound gone.

"I am usually here, during the day. And my theory is that the ghouls were used to press her towards this place. I do not know why or how this priestess was involved in things, but that third Mondragon did come to protect her."

"So why involve you. First guess would be to frame you for the whole fucking mess, make you look like you're the Scourge slave, but this is too isolated. Way too complicated to get you seen."

"Do you have any idea why she would want you involved with this priestess and the third Mondragon?" Syarra frowns, thinking.

Mourn's hands tighten into fists. "After we fought she told me she was not here for Ralaea this time…and that she had seen what she had come to see. But from my understanding…there were no fatalities. She did not kill anyone this time."

"So what she wanted… was something to do with you, the priestess, and the other living Mondragon," Syarra laces her fingers together. "Do you think it was a test? For you?"

"And she either got what she wanted, or she's good at rolling with a failed plan. A test…Testing you to see if you'd help someone in trouble? Seeing how much of her training remained?" Roper seems to be almost thinking out loud.

"I suspect it was." Mourn scowls. "And she had the nerve to best me in the same way she killed me when I was still living." He covers the hole in his tabard with one hand.

Roper looks at it, a slow tap, tap, tap of his left hand against his left leg. "Where'd she 'run' to? That's where we need to see. Because it sounds like she might've planned for it, taking you somewhere deliberately."

"Then likely you were the target, if she made it that personal," Syarra glances at the ruined tabard. "We heal well enough, so that could only be intended as a message. Or a needling."

Mourn nods with Syarra's words. "It was a message. She also mentioned the 'gift' again, which was this tabard, I believe." Mourn starts back down the tower. "If you wish to see where we fought, then I will show you."

"Thank you," Syarra says simply, following.

Roper nods at Mourn. "Lead the way. I don't like any of this. Feels like a fucking noose."

Roper pulls out his death charger with a scream from the shadows.

Syarra and Mourn summon theirs like normal people. Relatively.

The ride at maximum undead horse speed goes quickly.

Mourn stops alongside a lake in the snow. "It was here."

Roper dismounts as they come to a stop, looking around. It's hard to tell with the helm that he's annoyed, although the fact that the air around them plummets and his hands ball into fists might give some hint of it. "Where the fuck are we."

"Does this place hold any significance for you?" Syarra looks around, checking what can be seen.

Mourn shakes his head. "We're by a lake. The only significant thing is that we are not very far from a Scourge stronghold."

"Do you think she was trying to… subvert you?"

"Her fucking parachute, then. Somewhere you wouldn't go. But somewhere you wouldn't be seen fighting her…" Roper turns as he measures up the angle from the tower.

"I do agree that she wanted privacy…for some reason. Did it have to do with why she let me survive?" Mourn glances towards Gjalerbron.

"If she knew you were not on her side… she would not want her allies to know she spared you. Why did she spare you? That is another question that remains."

"And it bothers me," Mourn growls.

"And why the fuck did she make sure you knew about the priestess and the fucking paladin she was supposedly working with," Roper says, shaking out his hands slightly. "I don't like it, because it feels like playing into her game, but you're gonna need to talk to that fucking priestess. There's a thread there."

Syarra sighs, looking out over the lake. "It seems to me that she wants you to do something. It must be something she is confident you will do, on your own. That would be my guess, on what we know now." Syarra nods to Roper. "But yes, the paladin and the priest may have something that will make it clearer."

"Something I needed my memories to do." Mourn begins scraping his armor together. "I will…attempt to get in contact with the priestess, but I can't be certain she has any interest in speaking with me."

"What'd she look like?" Roper asks.

"Long dark hair, purple robes. Carried a dagger. I was more interested in Mondragon, so that is all I know."

"We have connections to several priests," Syarra glances at Roper. "Maybe one of them would know her."

"That's enough to work with. Colson owes me a favor anyway," Roper says, turning back to look at Mourn. "So, Syarra's right. It begs the question — what would you do now? If you were thinking with just you."

"I would become stronger so I can beat her next time. Are you going to tell me not to?" He crosses his arms.

"What would you do, toward that goal?" Syarra considers him.

"I would…ask my connections in the Argent Crusade. I am getting nowhere on my own." He glances between them, as if waiting to be told his actions are wrong.

"So you'd wait. You wouldn't push it," Roper confirms. "Which means if we press her, we'd be doing something she's not necessarily expecting. She might not realize you have other allies on your side. More than she'd expect from you. You get them on your side, work on your power, and we find a way to make her nervous, and we might get her off balance."

"I don't think she would suspect you have allies in the Ebon Blade," Syarra says, looking over at the Scourge stronghold. "She was not there, when we helped before. And you were alone here. There are others we might ask, if we need more. Forge. And Kiekel."

"Perhaps." Mourn’s posture straightens further, if possible. "By the way… Have you heard of any other death knights in this area?"

"No, but I wasn't looking for them. Why?"

"I keep finding traces…that suggest there might be another. But…I do not know which side they are on, and I have yet to encounter them directly."

Roper looks at Mourn with interest at that. "Someone hunting in your territory? Where? Near the keep, or away from it?"

"No sign of a particular one you might remember? From the Revenge?" Syarra looks interested as well.

"The other side, closer to that burning forest. Whenever I go on a mapping expedition, I find what remains of their…meals. Pirates, so far. Dragged up from the shores." He shakes his head at Syarra.

"Pirates. Not Alliance." Roper taps against his left leg. "That sounds more likely to be one of us, watching their diet and their undead figure."

Syarra nods. "There are a lot of soldiers around, for the unscrupulous. And we do usually tend to isolate ourselves. Mondragon was not wrong about that."

"Or…it could be meant to throw me off. Lower my guard. The pirates are not allied with the Scourge as far as I know. And if they belong to Kaela…"

Mourn glances back towards Westguard. "Either way…I will keep trying to locate them."

"She's wearing the fucking tabard. She has to know what that means. So she's either baiting you, luring you into something, or she's playing along to fool someone else…"

"Would it be better if someone else investigated? In case it was a trap?" Syarra glances back toward Westguard. "We could try to get one of the living on it. Not Westwind, obviously."

"Or one of us that she wouldn't know. Maybe more than one of us. Kiekel and Forge she doesn't know at all. Even if she's watching us from here, they'd be another surprise."

Mourn nods, though frustration spreads across his expression. "This would all be easier if I knew what she wanted…"

Syarra nods. "I don't think I have enough pieces to have any clear idea of what she wants in the end."

"Her end game? Feels like she's collecting. If she was just trying to enjoy a game, she'd be torturing everyone better, making sure you're afraid. This feels more like a spider with a fucking web."

"…I hate spiders." Mourn turns back towards his tower.