"Hit me harder! Is that all you got?"

This is a horrible plan...

Smack!

"I said hit me not slap me! Mooreheart, we gotta make this look believable!"

Maybe the worst plan in the history of plans…

The rain is just starting to pick up. Eryn is dressed in Demacian armor that Katarina had procured for her. Chainmail, a blue tabard, and a helmet with a visor to hide her face. Draven stands in front of her, hands tied in front of him with rope, his face turning pink from the slap. Even though she knows he's pushing her to hit him, her heart has a hard time hurting someone who's helpless. "If I was a real threat you'd be dead Mooreheart." He taunts.

"I know but-"

"Pretend I'm that Whitburn guy. Or fuck pretend I'm Katarina. You looked like you were ready to bite her head off."

"I mean-"

"It didn't take much for her to get under your skin huh? Her suggesting we might be the bad guys really bothering you?"

Eryn hesitates. "How much of what she said is true?" She asks.

"Give me a good black eye and maybe I'll answer you." Draven offers.

Eryn grits her teeth and clenches her fist. She closes her eyes, trying to not think of Draven standing there, looking helpless. Looking like Darius when Whitburn had taken him. Instead she imagines Whitburn's smug face looking down at her, and rage burns in her bones and she swings hard. Her fist collides with flesh and bone, and she feels him stagger back a step. "That's more like it!" Draven says through gritted teeth. "Maybe open your eyes, you almost missed me. I had to step into it." He says as he laughs.

Eryn does, and sees him smearing the blood from his nose onto his forearm. His eye is already turning red, hopefully it'll swell up noticeably by the time they reach the keep. Eryn has to hold back an urge to rush over and heal his wounds. It has to look believable, she repeats to herself. "Is that enough?" She asks.

"Should be. Let's get moving before it starts pouring." He says gesturing with his head for her to lead the way.

They start their trek up the hillside. Eryn can already feel the rain beginning to seep through her armor, dripping down her back. That combined with the wind picking up causes shivers to run down her spine. "So…" Eryn says, eying Draven walking beside her.

"So…?" Draven echoes. Eryn raises an eyebrow. "Oh yeah. Your question. Yeah, some of it's true. Some of it's her being bitter and twisting it. Most of it is her just trying to provoke reactions out of you."

"Why me?"

"Because you've clearly gotten close to Darius. You represent a weakness to him. Something she can exploit for information to maybe find more." Draven elaborates, yawning at the seemingly dry conversation topic.

"Why would you trust someone to come on a rescue mission if she wants him dead?"

Draven laughs like it's a dumb question. "That was some of her bullshit to provoke you. She's pissed at me right now, but she doesn't hate us."

"You told me not to trust her though!"

"You can't trust anyone. Look where trusting your Demacians has gotten you. But yeah, people who are your allies today are your enemies tomorrow. Kat and the Du Couteaus have shown their loyalty to the Trifarix sure, but things can change any day. You can't give anyone anything they can use to take you down." Draven explains and Eryn groans, frustrated with him. "If knowing this bothers you that much you could always stay here. Keep listening to Demacian propaganda. Keep believing lies like that everyone here has your best interests at heart." His voice takes a mocking tone and Eryn frowns.

"That doesn't bother me. You bother me." Draven laughs again, grinning wildly, like he takes pride in being obnoxious. His laugh is contagious, and even though his tone was getting on her nerves she can't help but grin as well. He's a ball of energy, and she can see why he must be a well liked figure in Noxus. "Is this how you got Katarina pissed at you? You talked down to her until she wanted to gut you?"

Draven's grin falters a bit. "Nah. She just was on her own mission before this, but I pulled her off of it with a bit of… convincing… to get her to help me out with this. She wasn't too happy about it, but I needed her help so..."

"...Did you blackmail her?"

Draven doesn't look at her. "Let's talk about something more interesting than this boring shit. Like me!"

Eryn tries to stop him from changing the subject, but he talks over her, stubbornly insisting on talking about his greatest moments with the Reckoners. Eryn resigns herself to the fact that this is how the rest of their trek is going to go now.

They spend the next few hours climbing the hillside to the keep. Eventually the looming stone walls are just a few hundred meters away. A steel portcullis looms before them, with two guards on the opposite side eying Eryn and Draven as they approach.

Eryn glances at Draven. His face has swollen slightly from the punch earlier, the skin above his cheekbone a reddish purple and his eye is half closed from the swelling. She glances back up the hill and lowers the visor of her helmet, concealing her face, and roughly tugs Draven forward. "Hey-" he protests

"It has to look convincing." She hisses back, echoing his words from earlier.

He rolls his eyes but let's himself be dragged by Eryn. The two are completely waterlogged at this point. The rain had picked up considerably, and Eryn is now drenched to the bone. Eryn approaches the gate with Draven in tow, anxiety starting to build in her chest as she remembers how her last attempt at lying to a Demacian soldier went.

"Halt." Says one of the guardsmen when she's a couple meters from the portcullis. "Who is that with you, soldier?"

She stands at attention when he asks her to halt. "A Noxian sir. Caught him lurking around the keep sir." She tugs Draven forward to present him to the guard. He dramatically stumbles forward, glaring at Eryn before staring down the guardsman.

The guardsmen whisper something to one another before one nods and walks off into the keep. "Wait a moment. He's getting our superior."

Eryn stands still at attention, unsure if rain or sweat is trickling down her neck at this point. This is a horrible plan… She repeats in her head as it takes a painful long time for the second guardsman to return.

Eryn has to stop herself from sighing in relief when the guardsman returns with a much larger Demacian. He's garnished in the house emblem and colors of the Whitburn family, but is much younger looking than the lord who captured Darius. A younger sibling perhaps. He has long golden hair that sticks to his face from the rain.

The guardsman who remained at the post salutes the new arrival. "Sir Mournflame." Eryn notes the name difference, deciding he must be a cousin instead of a sibling to Whitburn.

"What have you found?" Mournflame asks as he directs his gaze towards Eryn.

Eryn bows before responding. "Sir, this Noxian was scouting the outskirts of the keep." She's thankful that he's not Lord Whitburn, she had been nervous that he would be able to recognize her and catch her in a lie. Again.

She's not looking at Mournflame directly but she can tell when he falls silent that he's looking Draven up and down. "He's… dressed interestingly. No uniform…. Who are you exact;y?"

"The name's Draven." Draven accentuates the 'a' in his name, letting it hang in the air for a bit. Eryn screws her eyes shut, grimacing at his actions. "I'm a great actor!" He had told her when explaining his plan. Eryn is starting to think it's not the case. "Noxus's strongest gladiator! Leader of the Reckoners! Brother to The Hand of Noxus! Release me now, and I might show you some mercy."

Silence falls over them as they digest his words. Eryn is so glad the helmet is hiding her face. Thunder claps overhead before finally Mournflame bursts out in laughter. "This Noxian believes he is in the position to be bargaining. After getting captured by a mere footsoldier." He gestures to Eryn. "This is rich. Bring him in, he makes some bold claims for his stature. Let's see if he speaks the truth about his relation to our other guest. This fool might have some use to us."

The guards raise the portcullis and Eryn roughly shoves Draven forward. "Walk on scum." Eryn hisses. They enter the keep's boundaries, the portcullis slowly lowering behind them. Well... The first step of their plan is working. Surprisingly. But she can't help but feel like they're marching to their own funerals...