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.
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