Jon Chess is his Nightscape armor set:
Tuesday, December 26, 2017
Friday, December 22, 2017
Opening Gambits V - Conclusion.
Jonathan Chess stood in the parlor room of the Goldgears family. MacLhir and his wife sat nervously on the
gnome-sized couch, waiting for Chess' report on the whereabouts and status of
their daughter, Varissa.
"There is no easy way to say this; I found your daughter. She is dead," Chess explained, a stoic
expression on his face. Mistress
Goldgears buried her face in MacLhir's shoulder, and Chess could hear the sobs,
see the grief wracking her small body.
MacLhir put his arms around his wife, and simply asked Jonathan
"How?"
"As you may know, your daughter had taken up the study of arcane; her
teachers all said she had an immense talent for it," Jonathan
continued. "What you probably had
not been told is that she had also taken up the study of the Fel Arts."
"I see," MacLhir ground out, his voice as cold as the weather in
Coldstone Pass.
"She had taken up the study in Stormwind, at the request of certain
parties," Chess lied. "These parties asked her to study demonology so
that she could join an organization called the Veiled Hand, a sect of corrupted
people who serve as spies for the Burning Legion, based in Duskwood, in
Darkshire. She managed to gather
evidence of their perfidy, and they killed her for it." Chess handed a letter, sealed with the royal
seal of Stormwind. "This report
will confirm all I have said."
Jonathan had spent hours on the forgery of the false documents; he had
stolen the paper from the SI:7 stationary supply, and painstakingly copied the
seal from the numerous outstanding arrest warrants available in the Stormwind
Royal Archives. Jonathan felt bad about
necessity of the deception, but he would have felt worse telling them what had
really happened.
Jonathan had discovered that Varissa Goldgears had joined the Defias
Brotherhood, and had tracked her to a deserted apartment in Moonbrook. He had confronted her there, after having
killed the Moonbrook Thugs which had guarded the building.
The apartment was a small dilapidated garret in a semi-abandoned building,
near the entrance to the Deadmines mining complex. The bottom floor was used as a flophouse for
the homeless and dispossessed of Moonbrook.
Varissa had spent little effort on redecorating, apart from a long, low
table which held a complex array of alchemical equipment. Jonathan looked the setup over; he was adept
at the distillation and concoction of venoms and poisons, but what she was
brewing as another order of magnitude in complexity, and some of the substances
gleamed in the darkness with an eerie Fel glow.
Whatever she was making for the Defias Brotherhood, it was likely
corruptive and deadly.
Jonathan had found Varissa asleep on a tiny pallet in the far corner. He had shaken her awake. She had been grouchy and resentful, but had
initially assumed that Jonathan was a member of the Defias Brotherhood, given
Jonathan's preponderance of black leather.
He had swiftly disabused her of that notion, saying "You parents
sent me, Varissa. They are worried sick,
not having head for you those many weeks."
"Oh yeah? That's a stone cold
tragedy," she had said, her voice cold.
"They always want to know what I'm doing, who I'm with... they
treat me like a child. So the Void with
them! Now you - get out, before I have
my Defias friends put you out!"
Jonathan didn't correct her assumption that there were any Defias within
earshot that might respond to her call.
"Before I go, at least write them a note. It would be a simple kindness, to let them
know you are well. Can you at least do
that much?" Jonathan asked,
although he did not expect her to actually comply with his request.
"Oh Fel no... I'll tell you what - why don't you tell them I'm
dead. After all, they're dead to
me!" the gnome warlock yelled. "Tell
them they can stuff themselves into a Gnomeregan tomb and rot! Better yet, why
don't you crawl in their after them! Now
get out!"
"Yeah, I'll tell them you are dead... but I won't be lying." Chess had garroted her from behind before she
could cast even the quickest spell. He
had left the apartment in haste, after destroying whatever she had been working
upon, so that he would not have to breathe the fumes from the wreckage he had
left behind. Chess had taken her
notebooks, and found notes about the Stormwind garrison and stockade, and that
she had been working on a new version of a Plague of Undeath. Jonathan was not sure what the Defias had
planned, but he dropped the notebooks off with SI:7 the next day, as well as
gathering his supplies for the forgeries he would produce to support the
fiction he would report to the Goldgears family.
Their daughter may have fallen to the corruption of Darkness, and taken up
with scum like the Defias Brotherhood, but the truth would have brought her
parents nothing but disgrace and pain.
Sometimes, a lie was better - and more merciful - than the truth.
Wednesday, December 20, 2017
Teaching An Old Dog New Tricks
Jon Chess unwrapped the newest acquisition for his meager library and placed it carefully on his work desk.
Chess had recently met with a mysterious quel'dorei named Dal'nathir Bloodrose. Chess had approached an old friend, Demisette Cloyse, in pursuit of someone who could begin training Chess in the rudiments of the arts of the Shadow. Jonathan was very good at approaching unseen and unheard, and his "blackout bombs" - small grenades which generated an acrid brimstone-tinged smoke cloud for concealment and evasion - were up to the highest standards of Gnomish engineering, the Legion was awash in fel magic, and it's practitioners and demons possessed abilities that made Jon's skills seem like children's' toys. If he was going to go up against Legion operatives in and around the Broken Shore, he would surely need more of an edge. Cloyse had put Chess together with Dal'nathir, and the two of them had met in the ruins of Ahn'Qiraj.
"This is the Light's Hope Chapel of shadow magic, Jonathan Chess," Bloodrose had explained. "It is an ideal place for you to begin your journey into the Path of Shadows". They had spoken at length, and Jonathan had learned of Natalie Seline, who had once been a Bishop of the Light in Stormwind. She had made an in-depth study of the orc necrolytes who had poured through the Dark Portal. Over the years her studies shifted to focus on finding out all she could about the dark energies and preached about the necessity of balance between The Light and the Darkness. After her death, the Kirin Tor sought to expunge all of her writings, locking what they could find in a vault in Dalaran, but the Forsaken re-discovered her teachings, and founded the Cult of the Forgotten Shadow.
The vault in Dalaran was a problem for another time, but perhaps it would not be necessary. While Jonathan was, by nature, possessed of an almost-fatal curiosity, perhaps he did not need her book Secrets of the Void, nor even her journal, a collection of notes penned by the leader of the Cult of Forgotten Shadows. Perhaps her studies could be pursued by studying some of the primary source materials Natalie Seline had used. Jonathan had, once upon a time, done some work for the Arakkoa in the Lower City section of Shattrath, striking against their Shadow-worshipping brethren in the nearby Terokkar Forest and Skettis. Perhaps he could find those, or at least the contents, translated from Ravenspeech to the Common Tongue.
Chess knew just the right person to ask, too.
One of Jonathan Chess' shameful secrets is that he was a collector and reader of steamy romances, especially those written by Bill Spearshaker, a dwarven author renowned for his exquisite penmanship and lurid plots. Chess had crossed all over Azeroth in the employ of Elling Trias, delivering orders of cheese, and taking fresh orders. If some of the packages he had delivered contained things other than cheese, Jonathan wouldn't know - the packages were sealed by Trias, and the orders were sealed by the customers. If certain goods other than cheese were delivered - say, illicit payments for information, and if those orders were actually intelligence reports, how would Jonathan have known? In any case, there wasn't a town in all of Azeroth that Jonathan hadn't visited, from Dalaran to the Undercity, and wherever he went, he made sure to check to see if there were any books of interest in the local bookshops. The supply was minuscule, and the demand heavy. Several of Spearshaker's novels, like Blue Moon, Jonathan had never found, and one night he had been approached by a Forsaken fellow named Cravitz Lorent.
"I understand you are looking for excitement...." the fellow had whispered to Chess. "Needs that can only be fulfilled by rare books." Jonathan had nodded, and that afternoon spent a small fortune on several additions to his personal library. Unfortunately for Chess, the shady book dealer had no shop, but was often found in the Dalaran underground, called the Underbelly. The Underbelly was the old Dalaran sewer system, and it was inhabited by rogues and ne'er-do-wells, who operate the black market, where many things of a less than legal nature could be found.
Jonathan took himself to Dalaran, and walked the tunnels of the Underbelly, talking with the usual con artists, poisoners, fences, and grifters - including a troll named, appropriately enough, Griftah - putting out the word that Chess was looking for Cravitz, and could be reached at the Legerdemain Lounge.
He didn't have long to wait - just until sundown.
Cravitz appeared in the doorway to the common room of the Legerdemain Lounge, and approached Jonathan.
"Jonathan Chess. You have summoned me - what is it you desire? I have still not located a reasonably-priced copy of Blue Moon..."
"This is something else. I am in the market for translated books which teach Shadow magic - I know that the Arakkoa in the Outlands have such things, but no idea how to go about obtaining them. I thought that a merchant of your resources might have a better..."
"I have Act Like a Crone, Think Like a Sage, I have Augury Without Bounds, I have Basketweaving the Sinister Way," listed the Shady Book Seller. "I have Curses: A Practical Guide. Eat, Scry, Love. Fifty Layers of Shadow, although I am told it gets everything wrong. I have How To Jinx Your Enemies Without Really Trying. The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Hexxers. The Art of Darkness. What Exactly Is Scrying Anyway?... "
"Wait, let's go back. How much for The Art of Darkness?" asked Chess.
"I have a slightly scuffed version without dust jacket, but the pages are tight and the binding has not cracked," informed the Forsaken, and the price bargaining began. At the end of the day, Jon Chess had significantly dipped into his cash reserves on hand but had obtained copies of Wildhammer Book of Verse ("A collection of the filthiest limericks you've ever laid eyes on"), Dirty Tricks, Vol 1, and a volume of Scarlet Confessional Book.
And The Art of Darkness.
Chess had recently met with a mysterious quel'dorei named Dal'nathir Bloodrose. Chess had approached an old friend, Demisette Cloyse, in pursuit of someone who could begin training Chess in the rudiments of the arts of the Shadow. Jonathan was very good at approaching unseen and unheard, and his "blackout bombs" - small grenades which generated an acrid brimstone-tinged smoke cloud for concealment and evasion - were up to the highest standards of Gnomish engineering, the Legion was awash in fel magic, and it's practitioners and demons possessed abilities that made Jon's skills seem like children's' toys. If he was going to go up against Legion operatives in and around the Broken Shore, he would surely need more of an edge. Cloyse had put Chess together with Dal'nathir, and the two of them had met in the ruins of Ahn'Qiraj.
"This is the Light's Hope Chapel of shadow magic, Jonathan Chess," Bloodrose had explained. "It is an ideal place for you to begin your journey into the Path of Shadows". They had spoken at length, and Jonathan had learned of Natalie Seline, who had once been a Bishop of the Light in Stormwind. She had made an in-depth study of the orc necrolytes who had poured through the Dark Portal. Over the years her studies shifted to focus on finding out all she could about the dark energies and preached about the necessity of balance between The Light and the Darkness. After her death, the Kirin Tor sought to expunge all of her writings, locking what they could find in a vault in Dalaran, but the Forsaken re-discovered her teachings, and founded the Cult of the Forgotten Shadow.
The vault in Dalaran was a problem for another time, but perhaps it would not be necessary. While Jonathan was, by nature, possessed of an almost-fatal curiosity, perhaps he did not need her book Secrets of the Void, nor even her journal, a collection of notes penned by the leader of the Cult of Forgotten Shadows. Perhaps her studies could be pursued by studying some of the primary source materials Natalie Seline had used. Jonathan had, once upon a time, done some work for the Arakkoa in the Lower City section of Shattrath, striking against their Shadow-worshipping brethren in the nearby Terokkar Forest and Skettis. Perhaps he could find those, or at least the contents, translated from Ravenspeech to the Common Tongue.
Chess knew just the right person to ask, too.
One of Jonathan Chess' shameful secrets is that he was a collector and reader of steamy romances, especially those written by Bill Spearshaker, a dwarven author renowned for his exquisite penmanship and lurid plots. Chess had crossed all over Azeroth in the employ of Elling Trias, delivering orders of cheese, and taking fresh orders. If some of the packages he had delivered contained things other than cheese, Jonathan wouldn't know - the packages were sealed by Trias, and the orders were sealed by the customers. If certain goods other than cheese were delivered - say, illicit payments for information, and if those orders were actually intelligence reports, how would Jonathan have known? In any case, there wasn't a town in all of Azeroth that Jonathan hadn't visited, from Dalaran to the Undercity, and wherever he went, he made sure to check to see if there were any books of interest in the local bookshops. The supply was minuscule, and the demand heavy. Several of Spearshaker's novels, like Blue Moon, Jonathan had never found, and one night he had been approached by a Forsaken fellow named Cravitz Lorent.
"I understand you are looking for excitement...." the fellow had whispered to Chess. "Needs that can only be fulfilled by rare books." Jonathan had nodded, and that afternoon spent a small fortune on several additions to his personal library. Unfortunately for Chess, the shady book dealer had no shop, but was often found in the Dalaran underground, called the Underbelly. The Underbelly was the old Dalaran sewer system, and it was inhabited by rogues and ne'er-do-wells, who operate the black market, where many things of a less than legal nature could be found.
Jonathan took himself to Dalaran, and walked the tunnels of the Underbelly, talking with the usual con artists, poisoners, fences, and grifters - including a troll named, appropriately enough, Griftah - putting out the word that Chess was looking for Cravitz, and could be reached at the Legerdemain Lounge.
He didn't have long to wait - just until sundown.
Cravitz appeared in the doorway to the common room of the Legerdemain Lounge, and approached Jonathan.
"Jonathan Chess. You have summoned me - what is it you desire? I have still not located a reasonably-priced copy of Blue Moon..."
"This is something else. I am in the market for translated books which teach Shadow magic - I know that the Arakkoa in the Outlands have such things, but no idea how to go about obtaining them. I thought that a merchant of your resources might have a better..."
"I have Act Like a Crone, Think Like a Sage, I have Augury Without Bounds, I have Basketweaving the Sinister Way," listed the Shady Book Seller. "I have Curses: A Practical Guide. Eat, Scry, Love. Fifty Layers of Shadow, although I am told it gets everything wrong. I have How To Jinx Your Enemies Without Really Trying. The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Hexxers. The Art of Darkness. What Exactly Is Scrying Anyway?... "
"Wait, let's go back. How much for The Art of Darkness?" asked Chess.
"I have a slightly scuffed version without dust jacket, but the pages are tight and the binding has not cracked," informed the Forsaken, and the price bargaining began. At the end of the day, Jon Chess had significantly dipped into his cash reserves on hand but had obtained copies of Wildhammer Book of Verse ("A collection of the filthiest limericks you've ever laid eyes on"), Dirty Tricks, Vol 1, and a volume of Scarlet Confessional Book.
And The Art of Darkness.
Saturday, December 16, 2017
Opening Gambits IV
Long before the sun formally sank before the horizon, the leaves of the Elwynn Forest had begun casting their long shadows. The warlock named Surena Caledon liked to think of it as a victory of Darkness and Shadow over the Light, albeit only a temporary one.
Once upon a time the sun setting over the horizon would have been a herald of the beginning of her day. She had lived in the nearby Stormwind, and had risen from her bed every night like one of the Forsaken, summoning her familiar succubus, and stalking the streets near pubs and bars for mortals just itching to have their souls drained. A warlock's power depended on being able to supply the demonic forces at her command with soul shards - and those required the death of her victims, and so she would watch while her succubus enchanted unwary, horny victims into a secluded spot nearby, and Surena would begin the ritual.
The bodies fed the canal crabs and creatures.
Until one of her victims fought their way back from her succubus' control, and vanquished the sayaadi and almost killing Surena herself. "I don't mind the pain as foreplay" he had snarled, "but the rest of the deal is off".
Surena had fallen in severe lust, or perhaps maybe even love. She had left Stormwind that night. Left her teacher and lover, Gakin the Darkbinder. Her whole world had become Erlan Drudgemoor. She had followed him into the Elwynn Forest, where he commanded the Defias in and nearby the Brackwell pumpkin farm. His band of Defias relieved unwary travelers to nearby Eastvale logging camp.
Unfortunately, life at the Brakenwell farm required that during the day, the pretense that the pumpkin farm was just another farm needed to be maintained. Erlan had placed her in charge of the deception, and a small detachment of guards who also served as farm labor at need.
Unfortunately, it also required her to be awake and alert during the daylight. Still, she loved Erlan, and he loved her. She wished she could convince her lover to leave the Defias - they could go anywhere, perhaps even Dalaran. She could grow in knowledge and power, and he could keep her safe! To her chagrin, however much he loved her, he was almost religiously devoted to the Defias Brotherhood. He would never leave them, and so she was stuck where she was.
"You look thoughtful tonight, Caledon" came a voice from behind her. She froze where she stood, near the doorway to the farmhouse; she would never forget that voice, but she knew better than to turn and look for it's source.
"Why have you returned to trouble me?" she asked, forcing herself to keep her voice strong and calm against her rising fear. Whoever the voice belonged to, it came on the wings of death; she knew from past history that at least a few of the Defias guards and sentries would be found dead when the owner of the voice had gone. The first time she had heard it, she had found Erlan had been knocked out by a blow to the head and hogtied like one of the farm swines ready for butchering. That time, the voice had demanded a piece of jewelry given her by her old teacher and spurned lover Gakin. They had searched afterward, with every mundane and magical means at their disposal, but had found nothing. other times, the voice had come asking questions about the Defias Brotherhood and their operations.
"The usual reason..." the voice chuckled. "Information. You have a friend named Varissa Goldgears. I require her location".
"I do not know her location," Surena informed. "She went off to Moonbrook with Marissa DuPage. I have not seen her nor heard from her since," she added, resentfully. Dupage was a mage and a Defias officer in charge of recruitment and training magical talent and looked down on Surena as an outsider, little more than Erlan's whore.
The silence that met her declaration was oppressive, but after a short interval, Surena resumed her routine; the voice had never been one for farewells, but rather vanished with the same abruptness it had manifested.
Surena smiled. Perhaps the owner of the voice would kill DuPage. If DuPage died, perhaps Surena could take her place; it was worth thinking about.
Maybe good would come of this, after all...
Once upon a time the sun setting over the horizon would have been a herald of the beginning of her day. She had lived in the nearby Stormwind, and had risen from her bed every night like one of the Forsaken, summoning her familiar succubus, and stalking the streets near pubs and bars for mortals just itching to have their souls drained. A warlock's power depended on being able to supply the demonic forces at her command with soul shards - and those required the death of her victims, and so she would watch while her succubus enchanted unwary, horny victims into a secluded spot nearby, and Surena would begin the ritual.
The bodies fed the canal crabs and creatures.
Until one of her victims fought their way back from her succubus' control, and vanquished the sayaadi and almost killing Surena herself. "I don't mind the pain as foreplay" he had snarled, "but the rest of the deal is off".
Surena had fallen in severe lust, or perhaps maybe even love. She had left Stormwind that night. Left her teacher and lover, Gakin the Darkbinder. Her whole world had become Erlan Drudgemoor. She had followed him into the Elwynn Forest, where he commanded the Defias in and nearby the Brackwell pumpkin farm. His band of Defias relieved unwary travelers to nearby Eastvale logging camp.
Unfortunately, life at the Brakenwell farm required that during the day, the pretense that the pumpkin farm was just another farm needed to be maintained. Erlan had placed her in charge of the deception, and a small detachment of guards who also served as farm labor at need.
Unfortunately, it also required her to be awake and alert during the daylight. Still, she loved Erlan, and he loved her. She wished she could convince her lover to leave the Defias - they could go anywhere, perhaps even Dalaran. She could grow in knowledge and power, and he could keep her safe! To her chagrin, however much he loved her, he was almost religiously devoted to the Defias Brotherhood. He would never leave them, and so she was stuck where she was.
"You look thoughtful tonight, Caledon" came a voice from behind her. She froze where she stood, near the doorway to the farmhouse; she would never forget that voice, but she knew better than to turn and look for it's source.
"Why have you returned to trouble me?" she asked, forcing herself to keep her voice strong and calm against her rising fear. Whoever the voice belonged to, it came on the wings of death; she knew from past history that at least a few of the Defias guards and sentries would be found dead when the owner of the voice had gone. The first time she had heard it, she had found Erlan had been knocked out by a blow to the head and hogtied like one of the farm swines ready for butchering. That time, the voice had demanded a piece of jewelry given her by her old teacher and spurned lover Gakin. They had searched afterward, with every mundane and magical means at their disposal, but had found nothing. other times, the voice had come asking questions about the Defias Brotherhood and their operations.
"The usual reason..." the voice chuckled. "Information. You have a friend named Varissa Goldgears. I require her location".
"I do not know her location," Surena informed. "She went off to Moonbrook with Marissa DuPage. I have not seen her nor heard from her since," she added, resentfully. Dupage was a mage and a Defias officer in charge of recruitment and training magical talent and looked down on Surena as an outsider, little more than Erlan's whore.
The silence that met her declaration was oppressive, but after a short interval, Surena resumed her routine; the voice had never been one for farewells, but rather vanished with the same abruptness it had manifested.
Surena smiled. Perhaps the owner of the voice would kill DuPage. If DuPage died, perhaps Surena could take her place; it was worth thinking about.
Maybe good would come of this, after all...
Wednesday, December 13, 2017
Opening Gambits, Part III
Jonathan Chess leaned back against the familiar, sturdy chair in the Pig & Whistle, at his usual table under the stairs.
His feet hurt.
He had returned from New Tinkertown with the lead that the missing persons case on which he was working had moved to Stormwind. That had made Jon happy for a short while; progress on a case was always good. Jon had made a list of people to interview - an unfortunately short list.
His first stop had been to the Slaughtered Lamb, a seedly little pub located as far away from the as you could get from the Wizards' Sanctum, and still remain in the Mages Quarter. The Slaughtered Lamb was where you went when you wanted to find mages who were less than scruulously honest, where you could find an alchemist who might look the other way when asked to make something that was not exactly legal. Of the substances which fed the ever-hungry illicit drug trade in Stormwind, many of them had been discovered by people who drank, ate, and whined about being oppressed by their hidebound-to-morality colleagues.
Jon got the attention of Jarel Moor, the barkeep. "Let me have a Gilnean Sparking Water, Moor. " Jarel Moor just stood there, polishing a pewter mug with a greasy rag.
"No? How about a Southshore Cider?" Chess tried. Moor remained unchanged.
"Alright... a bottle of Dalaran White" Still no reaction.
"Well, what do you have?" Chess asked.
"Same slop we have every day", answered Moor, his voice a steady monotone. " We got Dalaran Noir, we got Dwarven Stout, we got Stormwind Tawny, we got Dwarven Mead, we got Badlands Bourbon. What we don't got is your silly fizzy water crap."
Jonathan chuckled. He had never seen Jarel Moor lose his equanimity nor his temper; the barkeep possessed one of the most even tempers in all of the history of Azeroth.
"Lets go with the Dalaran Noir, then... I have lots of places to go, and lots of people to annoy," Chess ordered. "Oh... and if you could let Madame Cloyse know I'm here, and would like a word with her, I would be grateful." Jon left the coins for the Dalaran Noir, and a hefty tip several times the cost of his beverage, on the bar for Moor to scoop up, and retreated to the long common table to wait.
Jeral Moor noded, and went back to polishing glasses. It was not long before Demisette Cloyce came through the curtains to the back room, carrying a bottle of Dalaran Noir and two crystal glasses. Jonathan had no idea how Moor had passed word to her that Jonathn was here, nor from where she had actually come; the back room was a small annex where the supplies were kept. Secret doors, magical portals... everyone had their own bag of tricks, and while Jonathan was curious, he was not fatally curious.
"Hello, Jonny," Demisette said, taking a seat across from Chess. "You are looking well."
"Good morning, Demi. I am surprised to see you so awake; the sun is still up, after all..." teased Jonathan.
"Well, its not so much that I am awake early, so much as I am still awake," joked Demisette.
"Well, you look like a smouldering sinful debauch waiting for the right victim to come along," said Chess, grinning. Demisette was a tall, slender human with long, black hair that fell straight down to the small of her back. She wore soft, red silen robes with purple trim, with a bare midriff and plunging cleavage. Jon had grown up with her in the Stormwind Orphanage until she had been tested for an affinity for the arcane. They had remained friends through her magical studies, through Jonathan's service with several merchant houses, even when her studies into the darker side of the arcane.
Demisette laughed, her soft voice softly carressing Jon's ears. "You say the nicest things, Jonny... but are you finally here to sample such sinful practices with me, or do you have something else in mind."
Jonathan blushed, remembering the time he had - perhaps foolishly - turned down the chance to bed the warlock (WARNING - link leads to a smut adul NSFW story, 18+ only!). She had been more than willing, and the offer had been difficult to turn down, but another friend from the orphanage days - a paladin aspirant, training at the Cathedral by day and sleeping with the other orphans at night, no less - had been hopelessly smitten with her, and Jonathan had not wanted to be That Guy. Not the kind of guy who took what was on offer because he could, and fel-damn the consequences.
"Yeah, you know I'd never do that to FitzSilver," he said, regretting every word; that he had not slept with Cloyse didn't mean he hadn't wanted to do so. "I'm working a Missing Persons case, looking for a gnome in your line of work." Jonathan showed her the sketch he had made of Varissa Goldgears.
"Yes, I have seen her... but not recently," Demisette informed Chess. "She was one of the friends of that treacherous Defias bitch, Surenya Caladon."
Chess knew who Demisette meant; Surena Caledon had been both student and lover to the warlock Gakin the Darkbinder, but she had run off to the Defias in th company of one of the captains of their forces in the Elywnn Forest. Once upon a time, Demisette had hired Jonathan to retrieve a bloodstone choker Gakin had given her.
"So, you think she's joined the Defias, then?" Jonathan asked.
"I think it's possible, although I know she also visits Maria Lumere from time to time." Maria Lumere owned a shop in the Mage Quarter called Alchemy Needs, selling apothecary and alchemical supplies to those in both trades.
Jonathan nodded. "Helpful stuff, Demi. I owe you one."
The warlock gave him a look that had reduced men to a smoking cinder of lust. "I don't keep track, not with you, Jonny. I'm always willing to help you... with whatever you need," she purred. "Now go. I need to finally catch a nap, and you have work to do or I'd invite you to join me." Jonathan imagined her stretched out on a bed, her silken robes disheveled, her hair wild... and stood, leaning over the table for a swift kiss farewell.
"Yes, well... the work always calls," Jon said. "May the Darkness embrace you," he added, using the traditional warlock words of parting.
"Oh, and one more thing... " Jonathan turned from the door. "Do you know anyone who might be able to teach me some cantrips of Shadow magic? Some of it might prove useful..."
Demisette nodded. "I'll ask around, and see who might be available... but be cautious with that, Jonny. Shadow magic is even more seductive than I am!" The soft sound of her laughter made Jonathan grin again as he exited the pub.
His feet hurt.
He had returned from New Tinkertown with the lead that the missing persons case on which he was working had moved to Stormwind. That had made Jon happy for a short while; progress on a case was always good. Jon had made a list of people to interview - an unfortunately short list.
His first stop had been to the Slaughtered Lamb, a seedly little pub located as far away from the as you could get from the Wizards' Sanctum, and still remain in the Mages Quarter. The Slaughtered Lamb was where you went when you wanted to find mages who were less than scruulously honest, where you could find an alchemist who might look the other way when asked to make something that was not exactly legal. Of the substances which fed the ever-hungry illicit drug trade in Stormwind, many of them had been discovered by people who drank, ate, and whined about being oppressed by their hidebound-to-morality colleagues.
Jon got the attention of Jarel Moor, the barkeep. "Let me have a Gilnean Sparking Water, Moor. " Jarel Moor just stood there, polishing a pewter mug with a greasy rag.
"No? How about a Southshore Cider?" Chess tried. Moor remained unchanged.
"Alright... a bottle of Dalaran White" Still no reaction.
"Well, what do you have?" Chess asked.
"Same slop we have every day", answered Moor, his voice a steady monotone. " We got Dalaran Noir, we got Dwarven Stout, we got Stormwind Tawny, we got Dwarven Mead, we got Badlands Bourbon. What we don't got is your silly fizzy water crap."
Jonathan chuckled. He had never seen Jarel Moor lose his equanimity nor his temper; the barkeep possessed one of the most even tempers in all of the history of Azeroth.
"Lets go with the Dalaran Noir, then... I have lots of places to go, and lots of people to annoy," Chess ordered. "Oh... and if you could let Madame Cloyse know I'm here, and would like a word with her, I would be grateful." Jon left the coins for the Dalaran Noir, and a hefty tip several times the cost of his beverage, on the bar for Moor to scoop up, and retreated to the long common table to wait.
Jeral Moor noded, and went back to polishing glasses. It was not long before Demisette Cloyce came through the curtains to the back room, carrying a bottle of Dalaran Noir and two crystal glasses. Jonathan had no idea how Moor had passed word to her that Jonathn was here, nor from where she had actually come; the back room was a small annex where the supplies were kept. Secret doors, magical portals... everyone had their own bag of tricks, and while Jonathan was curious, he was not fatally curious.
"Hello, Jonny," Demisette said, taking a seat across from Chess. "You are looking well."
"Good morning, Demi. I am surprised to see you so awake; the sun is still up, after all..." teased Jonathan.
"Well, its not so much that I am awake early, so much as I am still awake," joked Demisette.
"Well, you look like a smouldering sinful debauch waiting for the right victim to come along," said Chess, grinning. Demisette was a tall, slender human with long, black hair that fell straight down to the small of her back. She wore soft, red silen robes with purple trim, with a bare midriff and plunging cleavage. Jon had grown up with her in the Stormwind Orphanage until she had been tested for an affinity for the arcane. They had remained friends through her magical studies, through Jonathan's service with several merchant houses, even when her studies into the darker side of the arcane.
Demisette laughed, her soft voice softly carressing Jon's ears. "You say the nicest things, Jonny... but are you finally here to sample such sinful practices with me, or do you have something else in mind."
Jonathan blushed, remembering the time he had - perhaps foolishly - turned down the chance to bed the warlock (WARNING - link leads to a smut adul NSFW story, 18+ only!). She had been more than willing, and the offer had been difficult to turn down, but another friend from the orphanage days - a paladin aspirant, training at the Cathedral by day and sleeping with the other orphans at night, no less - had been hopelessly smitten with her, and Jonathan had not wanted to be That Guy. Not the kind of guy who took what was on offer because he could, and fel-damn the consequences.
"Yeah, you know I'd never do that to FitzSilver," he said, regretting every word; that he had not slept with Cloyse didn't mean he hadn't wanted to do so. "I'm working a Missing Persons case, looking for a gnome in your line of work." Jonathan showed her the sketch he had made of Varissa Goldgears.
"Yes, I have seen her... but not recently," Demisette informed Chess. "She was one of the friends of that treacherous Defias bitch, Surenya Caladon."
Chess knew who Demisette meant; Surena Caledon had been both student and lover to the warlock Gakin the Darkbinder, but she had run off to the Defias in th company of one of the captains of their forces in the Elywnn Forest. Once upon a time, Demisette had hired Jonathan to retrieve a bloodstone choker Gakin had given her.
"So, you think she's joined the Defias, then?" Jonathan asked.
"I think it's possible, although I know she also visits Maria Lumere from time to time." Maria Lumere owned a shop in the Mage Quarter called Alchemy Needs, selling apothecary and alchemical supplies to those in both trades.
Jonathan nodded. "Helpful stuff, Demi. I owe you one."
The warlock gave him a look that had reduced men to a smoking cinder of lust. "I don't keep track, not with you, Jonny. I'm always willing to help you... with whatever you need," she purred. "Now go. I need to finally catch a nap, and you have work to do or I'd invite you to join me." Jonathan imagined her stretched out on a bed, her silken robes disheveled, her hair wild... and stood, leaning over the table for a swift kiss farewell.
"Yes, well... the work always calls," Jon said. "May the Darkness embrace you," he added, using the traditional warlock words of parting.
"Oh, and one more thing... " Jonathan turned from the door. "Do you know anyone who might be able to teach me some cantrips of Shadow magic? Some of it might prove useful..."
Demisette nodded. "I'll ask around, and see who might be available... but be cautious with that, Jonny. Shadow magic is even more seductive than I am!" The soft sound of her laughter made Jonathan grin again as he exited the pub.
Monday, December 11, 2017
Jon's Steamy Novels Collection
- A Steamy Romance Novel
- A Steamy Romance Novel: Hot and Misty
- A Steamy Romance Novel: Forbidden Love
- A Steamy Romance Novel: I'm In Love With a Robot
- A Steamy Romance Novel: Northern Exposure
- A Steamy Romance Novel: Savage Passions
- A Steamy Romance Novel: Nightborne of the Living Dead
Still looking for:
- A Steamy Romance Novel: Blue Moon
- A Steamy Romance Novel: Of Elvin Bondage
- A Steamy Romance Novel: Waves of Desire
- A Steamy Romance Novel: Legion Lust
Thursday, December 7, 2017
Opening Gambits, Part II
Jonathan shivered in the cold air of well-named Chill Breeze Valley, staring at the outskirts of New Tinkertown, a small village built just outside of the destroyed subterranean city of Gnomeregan, home to their refugees and their leader, High Tinker Gelbin Mekkatorque.
"You'd think that someplace this cold would have a decent coffee bar... or at least a mulled wine seller. But no..," Jon mumbled disconsolately to himself, as he continued towards the outskirts of the town.
It did not take long for Jonathan to find his friend Kelsey Steelspark. Outwardly Kelsey appeared as just another insufferably-cute gnomish woman - strawberry-blond hair, wearing her trademark purple overalls over a pink blouse. Wide-set blue-green eyes. A perky smile.
All part of her professional camouflage - beneath the perky airhead exterior lurked a skilled engineer with a penchant for building killer robots and nasty, concealable tools of her trade - which was carrying out secret assignments of theft, information-gathering, and assassination for the Gnomergan Covert Ops organization.
"Hey Rook!" she exclaimed, a huge grin on her face. Rook was the name Jonathan used on the more shady side of his activities when he worked for the Theramore-based company Universal Exports, or the Azeroth Ale Society. "Looking for more of those smoke grenades you like so well?" Among her other fine qualities, Kelsey sold Jonathan smoke grenades, allowing him to pull his vanishing act when outnumbered or cornered.
"I can always use more of those; your alchemists do top-notch work," Jonathan answered. "But I'm here because I'm looking to do some work, maybe. a missing-persons trace for a guy named Goldgears. Know him?"
"Rook, I know everyone here - NewTink is not that big a burgh, don't you know. Who went missing?"
"His daughter"
"Oh, Verissa? Yea, small wonder. The smart money was always on her coming to a bad end. She's one of Grimm's crew." Alamar Grimm was a teacher of the shadier side of the arcane.
"Her dad know?" asked Chess.
"Oh heck no - he's a straight-up badass, one of Captain Sparknozzle's infantry special squads; after fighting off the last Legion incursion here, I doubt he'd be happy with the news, either," Kelsey informed.
"Oh good..." Jonathan replied.
"Yeah, it might be better if she stayed lost... but hey, not my problem. Try and make sure it doesn't become my problem, will you, Rook? 'Cause you love me?" Steelspark batted her eyes winningly at Chess.
"If only I hadn't been born the wrong race!" Jonathan flirted with a sigh.
"Eh, you're still pretty damn cute, for a tallard*. And useful, which is more than I can say about many a gnome."
"You are too kind," commented Jon, with a grin.
Having obtained directions to the Goldgears home, Jonathan rang the doorbell and met Vallira Goldgears, who seemed pleased to see him.
"Nipsy said you might be able to help find our daughter, who has gone missing," the gnome lady said after Jonathan introduced himself. "She took off about a month ago, but Mac and I didn't pay much heed - she often vanishes with friends for as much as a week at a time, or sends a letter. After a couple of weeks and no word, we asked the Ironforge Guard for help, but they were completely uninterested in helping. 'The dwarves aren't interested in helping us gnomes, they're too busy in the humans' wars' Alastar says, and sometimes I think that he's right," Vallira sighed, her voice heavy with despair. "Mac can't go looking for her, not with his military duties, and I'd be next to useless in the field - I do my best work in the tinker labs!"
"Well, I'd be happy to help find her. Do you have any idea where she might have gone?"
"Well, she has recently been taking the tramway to Stormwind, visiting friends in the Slaughtered Lamb there," Vallira told him. "But... is hiring you expensive? What do you charge?"
"Don't you worry about that - I owe Nipsy a favor or two, so it's covered" Do you have a picture or painting of her I might have?"
"Well, we just have the one portrait, but its all I have... "
"That's alright, ma'am. I can make a sketch of her from it," Jonathan said, much to her visible relief. Sometime later, Jonathan headed back into the snowy countryside, Stormwind bound. At least he had a place to start.
"You'd think that someplace this cold would have a decent coffee bar... or at least a mulled wine seller. But no..," Jon mumbled disconsolately to himself, as he continued towards the outskirts of the town.
It did not take long for Jonathan to find his friend Kelsey Steelspark. Outwardly Kelsey appeared as just another insufferably-cute gnomish woman - strawberry-blond hair, wearing her trademark purple overalls over a pink blouse. Wide-set blue-green eyes. A perky smile.
All part of her professional camouflage - beneath the perky airhead exterior lurked a skilled engineer with a penchant for building killer robots and nasty, concealable tools of her trade - which was carrying out secret assignments of theft, information-gathering, and assassination for the Gnomergan Covert Ops organization.
"Hey Rook!" she exclaimed, a huge grin on her face. Rook was the name Jonathan used on the more shady side of his activities when he worked for the Theramore-based company Universal Exports, or the Azeroth Ale Society. "Looking for more of those smoke grenades you like so well?" Among her other fine qualities, Kelsey sold Jonathan smoke grenades, allowing him to pull his vanishing act when outnumbered or cornered.
"I can always use more of those; your alchemists do top-notch work," Jonathan answered. "But I'm here because I'm looking to do some work, maybe. a missing-persons trace for a guy named Goldgears. Know him?"
"Rook, I know everyone here - NewTink is not that big a burgh, don't you know. Who went missing?"
"His daughter"
"Oh, Verissa? Yea, small wonder. The smart money was always on her coming to a bad end. She's one of Grimm's crew." Alamar Grimm was a teacher of the shadier side of the arcane.
"Her dad know?" asked Chess.
"Oh heck no - he's a straight-up badass, one of Captain Sparknozzle's infantry special squads; after fighting off the last Legion incursion here, I doubt he'd be happy with the news, either," Kelsey informed.
"Oh good..." Jonathan replied.
"Yeah, it might be better if she stayed lost... but hey, not my problem. Try and make sure it doesn't become my problem, will you, Rook? 'Cause you love me?" Steelspark batted her eyes winningly at Chess.
"If only I hadn't been born the wrong race!" Jonathan flirted with a sigh.
"Eh, you're still pretty damn cute, for a tallard*. And useful, which is more than I can say about many a gnome."
"You are too kind," commented Jon, with a grin.
Having obtained directions to the Goldgears home, Jonathan rang the doorbell and met Vallira Goldgears, who seemed pleased to see him.
"Nipsy said you might be able to help find our daughter, who has gone missing," the gnome lady said after Jonathan introduced himself. "She took off about a month ago, but Mac and I didn't pay much heed - she often vanishes with friends for as much as a week at a time, or sends a letter. After a couple of weeks and no word, we asked the Ironforge Guard for help, but they were completely uninterested in helping. 'The dwarves aren't interested in helping us gnomes, they're too busy in the humans' wars' Alastar says, and sometimes I think that he's right," Vallira sighed, her voice heavy with despair. "Mac can't go looking for her, not with his military duties, and I'd be next to useless in the field - I do my best work in the tinker labs!"
"Well, I'd be happy to help find her. Do you have any idea where she might have gone?"
"Well, she has recently been taking the tramway to Stormwind, visiting friends in the Slaughtered Lamb there," Vallira told him. "But... is hiring you expensive? What do you charge?"
"Don't you worry about that - I owe Nipsy a favor or two, so it's covered" Do you have a picture or painting of her I might have?"
"Well, we just have the one portrait, but its all I have... "
"That's alright, ma'am. I can make a sketch of her from it," Jonathan said, much to her visible relief. Sometime later, Jonathan headed back into the snowy countryside, Stormwind bound. At least he had a place to start.
* Tallard - a less-than-complimentary term used by dwarves and gnomes to refer to people taller than 'the perfect height'
Opening Gambits
Jonathan Chess was very familiar with both ends of the Deeprun Tram, which was a long, fully enclosed, underground (and partially underwater) set of double tracks upon which rolls two sets of three wagons that transported all manner of people and things from its terminal in Ironforge to its terminal in Stormwind. Its existence, the result of the brilliance of gnomish engineering, made both Stormwind and Ironforge immune to attack by siege, as either city could supply the other with food, water, reinforcements, and a way to evacuate civilians.
When Jonathan had left the Stormwind Orphanage, he had earned money by hunting rats in the Old Town quarter of that city and supplying the meat to the brothers Monty and Nipsy, who transformed them into rat kabobs, and sold to travelers at the Stormwind end of the tramway. Granted, most of his sales were to gnomes coming from the other end after reaching Stormwind, but coppers were coppers after all. Jonathan had himself developed a taste for the kabobs, and a friendship with the two brothers.
Nipsy rarely ventured out of the Stormwind terminal, and so when the gnome walked into the common room of the Pig & Whistle in Old Town, it took Jonathan by surprise. Jonathan was well-known at the Pig & Whistle, as it had proved a convenient place to meet his clients, many of whom lived amidst the squalor and poverty of the neighborhood.
"I was hoping to find you here, Jonny!" the gnome exclaimed. "Got a minute to palaver?"
"Sure, Nipsy - what are you drinking these days?" replied Chess as he turned to Elly Langston, one of the tavern's barmaids. "Whatever he likes, and my usual. Put it on my tab."
"I don't know why Tillman allows you to run a tab, a no-good layabout like you!" she sniped at Chess before turning to fetch their order from behind the bar. The gorgeous redhead had never forgiven Jonathan for dating her older sister Jenn instead of her. When Jenn had dumped Jonathan, she had tried to get him interested in her, but Jonathan had left Old Town for the Trade district instead, working for Elling Trias. Elly had never, and likely would never, forgive Jonathan for the unintended snub; she had both a temper and a long memory.
"...because of my charming personality, of course," Jonathan mumbled to himself. The fact that he had struck a deal with Maegan Tillman, the innkeeper of the place, to keep the sleeping rooms relatively rat-free didn't hurt matters, either. Elly snorted with disgust, but put the drinks - a flagon of Dwarven Mead for Nipsy, and a bottle of Hearthglen Ambrosia for himself - on the table under the stairs, which was Jonathan's preferred "office".
"Jonny, I have a friend who needs some help," the gnome began, taking a deep draught of his mead. "Oh damn, but that's good mead."
"Yeah, Firestone Brewery in Ironforge," Jonathan said. "Now, you were saying?"
"Oh yeah, my friend. So, I have a friend..."
"I am stunned at the news."
"...yes, now stop that. Anyway, my friend is a fellow named Goldgears, MacLhir Goldgears. His daughter went missing about a month ago, and his wife Vallira is quite besides herself with worry. And when Vallira worries, MacLhir worries - if he knows what's good for him. So the daughter, she needs finding, which is the kind of thing you do, right Jonny?"
"Sure, Nipsy, it's the kind of thing I do. Why doesn't Goldgears go ask the Ironforge Guard for help?"
"Well, he asked them about it a few weeks ago, but they just sit on their stone-cold asses and say she probably got lost in Gnomeragan again."
"Again?"
"Well, she and the crowd she hangs with has been known to down there and recover things for some quick cash - lots of the more adventurous gnomes do, y'know. A little coin, a little payback... kinds these days!"
Jonathan chuckled - he was probably the same age as these "kids".
"It'll do me no harm to talk to them, I suppose," Chess said. "I have some friends who might have heard something if nothing else." Jonathan was casual friends with a gnome agent of the Gnomeregan Special Ops team, who took care of covert operations and intelligence gathering for Gelbin Mekkatorque. She and Jonathan had often exchanged favors when he had worked for the Azeroth Ale Society, a merchant company which fronted for the Kul Tiras intelligence operation.
"Good, good... I'd hoped you'd say that!" exclaimed Nipsy happily. "Mac lives in New Tinkertown."
Jonathan nodded. "I'll find him. New Tinkertown isn't that big, so it shouldn't take much time."
"Good enough. I'll leave you to it, then - and thanks, Jonny."
When Jonathan had left the Stormwind Orphanage, he had earned money by hunting rats in the Old Town quarter of that city and supplying the meat to the brothers Monty and Nipsy, who transformed them into rat kabobs, and sold to travelers at the Stormwind end of the tramway. Granted, most of his sales were to gnomes coming from the other end after reaching Stormwind, but coppers were coppers after all. Jonathan had himself developed a taste for the kabobs, and a friendship with the two brothers.
Nipsy rarely ventured out of the Stormwind terminal, and so when the gnome walked into the common room of the Pig & Whistle in Old Town, it took Jonathan by surprise. Jonathan was well-known at the Pig & Whistle, as it had proved a convenient place to meet his clients, many of whom lived amidst the squalor and poverty of the neighborhood.
"I was hoping to find you here, Jonny!" the gnome exclaimed. "Got a minute to palaver?"
"Sure, Nipsy - what are you drinking these days?" replied Chess as he turned to Elly Langston, one of the tavern's barmaids. "Whatever he likes, and my usual. Put it on my tab."
"I don't know why Tillman allows you to run a tab, a no-good layabout like you!" she sniped at Chess before turning to fetch their order from behind the bar. The gorgeous redhead had never forgiven Jonathan for dating her older sister Jenn instead of her. When Jenn had dumped Jonathan, she had tried to get him interested in her, but Jonathan had left Old Town for the Trade district instead, working for Elling Trias. Elly had never, and likely would never, forgive Jonathan for the unintended snub; she had both a temper and a long memory.
"...because of my charming personality, of course," Jonathan mumbled to himself. The fact that he had struck a deal with Maegan Tillman, the innkeeper of the place, to keep the sleeping rooms relatively rat-free didn't hurt matters, either. Elly snorted with disgust, but put the drinks - a flagon of Dwarven Mead for Nipsy, and a bottle of Hearthglen Ambrosia for himself - on the table under the stairs, which was Jonathan's preferred "office".
"Jonny, I have a friend who needs some help," the gnome began, taking a deep draught of his mead. "Oh damn, but that's good mead."
"Yeah, Firestone Brewery in Ironforge," Jonathan said. "Now, you were saying?"
"Oh yeah, my friend. So, I have a friend..."
"I am stunned at the news."
"...yes, now stop that. Anyway, my friend is a fellow named Goldgears, MacLhir Goldgears. His daughter went missing about a month ago, and his wife Vallira is quite besides herself with worry. And when Vallira worries, MacLhir worries - if he knows what's good for him. So the daughter, she needs finding, which is the kind of thing you do, right Jonny?"
"Sure, Nipsy, it's the kind of thing I do. Why doesn't Goldgears go ask the Ironforge Guard for help?"
"Well, he asked them about it a few weeks ago, but they just sit on their stone-cold asses and say she probably got lost in Gnomeragan again."
"Again?"
"Well, she and the crowd she hangs with has been known to down there and recover things for some quick cash - lots of the more adventurous gnomes do, y'know. A little coin, a little payback... kinds these days!"
Jonathan chuckled - he was probably the same age as these "kids".
"It'll do me no harm to talk to them, I suppose," Chess said. "I have some friends who might have heard something if nothing else." Jonathan was casual friends with a gnome agent of the Gnomeregan Special Ops team, who took care of covert operations and intelligence gathering for Gelbin Mekkatorque. She and Jonathan had often exchanged favors when he had worked for the Azeroth Ale Society, a merchant company which fronted for the Kul Tiras intelligence operation.
"Good, good... I'd hoped you'd say that!" exclaimed Nipsy happily. "Mac lives in New Tinkertown."
Jonathan nodded. "I'll find him. New Tinkertown isn't that big, so it shouldn't take much time."
"Good enough. I'll leave you to it, then - and thanks, Jonny."
Tuesday, December 5, 2017
Jonathan Chess - A short biography
Jonathan Chess - A short biography
An unknown baby was brought to the Stormwind Orphanage as an infant when Arugal and his worgen overran Shadowfang Keep and Pyrewood. Around his neck, the baby had a signet ring of the Silverlaine family (the owners of Shadowfang Keep). The Matron named the baby Jonathan, and he grew up as happy a fellow as being raised in an orphanage, with no known parentage allows. When he was eleven years old, he was apprenticed to Simon Tanner. a leather-worker in the Old Town section of Stormwind. Jonathan was an indifferent apprentice, and his constant questions and speculations led to Simon calling him "Chess", as Simon claimed that Jonathan over-thought everything. "There isn't a reason for everything, Jonny" he would say. "Tradition is a good enough reason for you and me, eh? Don't over-think things - there isn't always a deeper meaning!"
Clearly, Jon disagreed. When he was fifteen, he earned extra money by hunting rats in Old Town and selling the carcasses to the gnome Monty in the Stormwind Tram area, who sent them to Nipsy on the other end in Deeprun for making into kabobs. Eventually, Jon grew very good with his throwing knives and bought his way out of his apprenticeship. The rat population of Stormwind far exceeded Jon's ability to exterminate them, and he branched out into the use of poisons to help him in his work, learning the arts from Miles Sidney.
His ability with poisons soon brought him to the attention of SI:7, who tried to recruit him. Jonathan was uninterested, but SI:7 began to keep an eye on him, "just in case".
 |
| Elling Trias |
Jonathan, like so many others, enlisted in the Valiance Expedition, and served as a military scout, although officially attached to the quartermaster's offices under Logistics Officer Silverstone, with whom he had a romantic liaison.
Theramore hired Jonathan to act as a privy agent and troubleshooter, working with a merchant group called Universal Exports as a cover, becoming familiar with Kul Tiras in the process. Jon believed in Jaina's vision of peaceful co-existence with the Horde, and was devastated by the destruction visited upon it by the dropping of a Mana Bomb by Garrosh Hellscream. Jonathan felt enormous guilt at having survived (he was often away from Theramore on assignment), he plunged himself into seeking revenge.
Jonathan then worked for Master Craft Ramsey, and the Azeroth Ale Society, a Kul Tirasan merchant organization dedicated to the celebration and promotion of ales and brewing - and also the unofficial arm of the Kul Tiras espionage organization. The Azeroth Ale Society was devastated when the Cataclysm moved Kul Tiras further out to sea, and Jonathan found himself again at loose ends. Jon served as a member of the Argent Crusade, assisting them in the reclamation of Andorhal and serving as Elling Trias' local agent for cheese commerce.
In Hearthglen, Jon would begin a serious romantic relationship with a Draenai Argent Crusade paladin named Morgana Lighthoof. The two of them frequently argued over moral and ethical issues, with Valira attempting to "bring Jon's soul back to the Light". Ultimately, Morgana was unable to accept Jonathan's unwillingness to cease "playing in the Shadows", and broke up with him. Unable to bring himself to remain in the same city, Jonathan returned to Stormwind after many years' absence and began to re-establish himself as a Private Investigator.
And here is where we begin following his story...
Appendix I - Poisons
Appendix I - Poisons
(Note - these are from prior versions of WoW, and were removed from the game for all practical purposes. RP is rarely for practical purposes, however!)By Name
Anesthetic Poison
* Deathweed
* Lethargy Root
* Maiden's Anguish
Crippling Poison
* Essence of Agony
* Essence of Pain
Deadly Poison
* Deathweed
* Maiden's Anguish
Instant Poison
* Dust of Decay
* Dust of Deterioration
* Maiden's Anguish
Mind-Numbing Poison
* Dust of Decay
* Dust of Deterioration
* Essence of Agony
Wound Poison
* Deathweed
* Essence of Agony
* Essence of Pain
By Ingredient
Deathweed* Anesthetic Poison (I)
* Deadly Poison (I, II, III, IV, V, VII)
* Wound Poison (I, II, III, IV, V)
Dust of Decay
* Instant Poison
* Instant Poison II
* Mind-numbing Poison
Dust of Deterioration
* Instant Poison (III, IV, V, and VI)
* Mind-numbing Poison (III)
Essence of Agony
* Crippling Poison (II)
* Mind-numbing Poison (III)
* Wound Poison (III, IV, V)
Essence of Pain
* Wound Poison
* Crippling Poison
* Wound Poison II
Lethargy Root
* Anesthetic Poison (I)
Maiden's Anguish
* Deadly Poison VI
* Anesthetic Poison
* Instant Poison VII
* Deadly Poison VII
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