Jon Chess and Lynesia Ashford stood at one of the edges of the Stormwind canal, at the perfidery of the Trade section of town. The last few days had been unseasonably warm, and the heat had inspired the odors of the canals to reach for new achievements in inspiring nausea and disgust, but Chess almost didn't notice - Stormwind had been his home for many years and he was almost inured to the stenches of the city. Mostly, his attention was focused on his companion.
Today, his companion had hair the color of a Warlock's soul, darker than any raven's wing. Lynesia was a mage of some power, and a valued member of the Kirin Tor, the specialized sect whose charge was the cataloging and researching of every manifestation of the arcane, whether spell, artifact or device. Since Chess had first met the mage, he had never seen her with the same style or color of hair, and rarely wearing the same robes. Chess knew, that for reasons of her own, the mage used the merest triflings of her arcane power to conceal her actual appearance in cosmetic illusion. He had made a game for himself of it, testing his powers of observation to mentally record the differences he could find between her last appearance and her current one. Fortunately for him, she rarely disguised her facial features beyond what Jonathan could recognize.
"What should we do tonight, Jonny?" she asked. She had a pleasing, rich contralto voice. Under other circumstances, Chess would compare it to the songs of a nightingale or other songbird, but complements seemed to annoy the mage, so he restrained himself.
"Hmmm... we could go to my room at the Hero's Rest in Dalaran, and I could read to you" Chess suggested.
"...Read to me?" Lynesia asked, surprise in her voice.
"Yes," Chess confirmed. "We'll break open some wine, you can relax... and I will read to you something from my book collection." Chess was an avid collector of romance literature, scouring the cities of the Alliance for stray copies of the works of Bill Spearshaker.
Lynesia looked at Chess warily. Inside his head, Chess sighed. He was known to be sometimes unconventional, but far too often Lynesia looked at him like he was some kind of criminal serial killer. Not that she was wrong; although Chess was a private investigator working with the Allied Detective Agency, he also served the forces of the Alliance in their conflicts, serving as a spy and, when so ordered, as an assassin.
Those orders came far too often, in Chess' opinion. Still, he had sworn an oath to obey the commands of his supervising officers, and so whatever qualms his conscience might summon he ruthlessly suppressed. The Alliance was in a fight for its very survival, against the Horde, against the Legion, and against other enemies, foreign and domestic. The objectives he was given by his superiors would be accomplished; the only question was would it be done by a scalpel-like Chess, or a less subtle instrument, like a squad or company of soldiers.
At least when Chess was dispatched, his failures would only result in his own demise.
"If you trust me to be a gentleman, we could even have them bring up a bath, and you could relax in the tub while I read to you," he continued, ignoring her look.
"Ah... I do not need a bath tonight... but thank you." Lynesia looked nonplussed as if Jon had suggested that she needed a bath.
Chess chuckled. "Baths should be about hedonistic pleasure and not 'need', but I get your point."
Lynesia laughed. "Okay..."
Chess grinned. He much preferred amusing Lynesia to befuddling her.
Lynesia looked at Chess' leather armor and brushed some dirt away. "We should get you some new armor," she tells him gently. "Ready to head out?"
"Yes, milady mage," Chess said, hardly finishing before Lynesia teleported them both from Stormwind to Dalaran. Chess felt nauseous for a second; arcane teleportation always made him motion-sick. The two of them made their way to the Hero's Rest, an inn where many of the Alliance forces deployed in and through Dalaran stayed between tours of duty. Jon led Lynesia upstairs to the sleeping room he had engaged for the last few days; although comfortable, it was rather spartan by Dalaran standards.
Chess opened the chamber door and motioned to Lynesia to enter. "This is where I usually stay... when I don't stay in rougher quarters," Chess explained. "Make yourself comfortable? I'll get us some wine." Chess headed downstairs to the bar to fetch some wine for the evening.
When Jon returned, Lynesia had placed herself on his bed, sitting demurely. Jonathan opened and poured her some Dalaran Noir, Jon's favorite wine for ordinary occasions. When she accepted a glass with a charming smile, Jonathan opened his travel pack and removed a copy of "A Steamy Romance Novel: Got Milk?".
Lynesia looked at the book and smirked. "Where did you even get this?"
Chess shrugged. " When I travel, I haunt used bookstores."
"I suppose that makes sense..." she said, nodding. "...but why would you have this book?"
"Because I am a sucker for steamy romance novels"
Jonathan opened the book and began to read aloud. "'So there I was, surrounded by at least a hundred murlocs!' the heavy mustached man proclaimed, gesturing in a wide arc. The tawny tauren gasped in amazement. 'Whatever did you do?' Her voice had a brawny, muscular tone to it. 'The only thing I could do, my lovely.' Marcus patted the sword resting on his thigh. 'I brought them to justice!''Oh! With just a dagger? You are so brave!' Tanda cautiously reached for the blade, but pulled her hand away at the last second."
Lynesia smiled at Chess as she listened. "Who writes these?" she asked him softly.
"Well, this particular series is written by Bill Spearshaker, in Ironforge," Chess explained. "Others are written by others. I have some nonfiction which dwells on Shadow magic and some Warlock ethics. The warlock ethics books are written by that lady whose assassin I am trying to find."
Chess continued to read the novel to Lynesia aloud, changing his voice to match each character.
"I suppose some people have a gift to write erotic novels," Lynesia commented.
"Imagine the opportunities to do subject matter research!" Chess quipped, grinning.
Lynesia laughed. "Would you write erotic novels?"
Chess smiled. "I have to talent for writing fiction, although sometimes my clients wonder about my reports..."
Lynesia offered Jonathan her hand, and when he took it pulled him forward for a kiss.
Lynesia let out out a soft happy sigh and pulls away. "So! Now what?"
"Now I continue reading to you?
Lynesia leaned back on the bed, her robes stretching tightly across her breasts. "How long is this book?" she asks him softly.
"... a few hours worth of reading?"
"...How does it end?"
"Passionately," Chess answered decisively, and then clarified his answer. "I suppose. I had not finished this one yet."
"I have an idea..." Lynesia purred, her voice growing husky. "How about instead of you reading the book to me, we skip to acting out some of the scenes?" She smiled at Jonathan in a way that left no doubt as to her intent.
"Books are over-rated," Chess said, tossing the book over his shoulder and joining Lynesia on the bed.
Today, his companion had hair the color of a Warlock's soul, darker than any raven's wing. Lynesia was a mage of some power, and a valued member of the Kirin Tor, the specialized sect whose charge was the cataloging and researching of every manifestation of the arcane, whether spell, artifact or device. Since Chess had first met the mage, he had never seen her with the same style or color of hair, and rarely wearing the same robes. Chess knew, that for reasons of her own, the mage used the merest triflings of her arcane power to conceal her actual appearance in cosmetic illusion. He had made a game for himself of it, testing his powers of observation to mentally record the differences he could find between her last appearance and her current one. Fortunately for him, she rarely disguised her facial features beyond what Jonathan could recognize.
"What should we do tonight, Jonny?" she asked. She had a pleasing, rich contralto voice. Under other circumstances, Chess would compare it to the songs of a nightingale or other songbird, but complements seemed to annoy the mage, so he restrained himself.
"Hmmm... we could go to my room at the Hero's Rest in Dalaran, and I could read to you" Chess suggested.
"...Read to me?" Lynesia asked, surprise in her voice.
"Yes," Chess confirmed. "We'll break open some wine, you can relax... and I will read to you something from my book collection." Chess was an avid collector of romance literature, scouring the cities of the Alliance for stray copies of the works of Bill Spearshaker.
Lynesia looked at Chess warily. Inside his head, Chess sighed. He was known to be sometimes unconventional, but far too often Lynesia looked at him like he was some kind of criminal serial killer. Not that she was wrong; although Chess was a private investigator working with the Allied Detective Agency, he also served the forces of the Alliance in their conflicts, serving as a spy and, when so ordered, as an assassin.
Those orders came far too often, in Chess' opinion. Still, he had sworn an oath to obey the commands of his supervising officers, and so whatever qualms his conscience might summon he ruthlessly suppressed. The Alliance was in a fight for its very survival, against the Horde, against the Legion, and against other enemies, foreign and domestic. The objectives he was given by his superiors would be accomplished; the only question was would it be done by a scalpel-like Chess, or a less subtle instrument, like a squad or company of soldiers.
At least when Chess was dispatched, his failures would only result in his own demise.
"If you trust me to be a gentleman, we could even have them bring up a bath, and you could relax in the tub while I read to you," he continued, ignoring her look.
"Ah... I do not need a bath tonight... but thank you." Lynesia looked nonplussed as if Jon had suggested that she needed a bath.
Chess chuckled. "Baths should be about hedonistic pleasure and not 'need', but I get your point."
Lynesia laughed. "Okay..."
Chess grinned. He much preferred amusing Lynesia to befuddling her.
Lynesia looked at Chess' leather armor and brushed some dirt away. "We should get you some new armor," she tells him gently. "Ready to head out?"
"Yes, milady mage," Chess said, hardly finishing before Lynesia teleported them both from Stormwind to Dalaran. Chess felt nauseous for a second; arcane teleportation always made him motion-sick. The two of them made their way to the Hero's Rest, an inn where many of the Alliance forces deployed in and through Dalaran stayed between tours of duty. Jon led Lynesia upstairs to the sleeping room he had engaged for the last few days; although comfortable, it was rather spartan by Dalaran standards.
Chess opened the chamber door and motioned to Lynesia to enter. "This is where I usually stay... when I don't stay in rougher quarters," Chess explained. "Make yourself comfortable? I'll get us some wine." Chess headed downstairs to the bar to fetch some wine for the evening.
When Jon returned, Lynesia had placed herself on his bed, sitting demurely. Jonathan opened and poured her some Dalaran Noir, Jon's favorite wine for ordinary occasions. When she accepted a glass with a charming smile, Jonathan opened his travel pack and removed a copy of "A Steamy Romance Novel: Got Milk?".
Lynesia looked at the book and smirked. "Where did you even get this?"
Chess shrugged. " When I travel, I haunt used bookstores."
"I suppose that makes sense..." she said, nodding. "...but why would you have this book?"
"Because I am a sucker for steamy romance novels"
Jonathan opened the book and began to read aloud. "'So there I was, surrounded by at least a hundred murlocs!' the heavy mustached man proclaimed, gesturing in a wide arc. The tawny tauren gasped in amazement. 'Whatever did you do?' Her voice had a brawny, muscular tone to it. 'The only thing I could do, my lovely.' Marcus patted the sword resting on his thigh. 'I brought them to justice!''Oh! With just a dagger? You are so brave!' Tanda cautiously reached for the blade, but pulled her hand away at the last second."
Lynesia smiled at Chess as she listened. "Who writes these?" she asked him softly.
"Well, this particular series is written by Bill Spearshaker, in Ironforge," Chess explained. "Others are written by others. I have some nonfiction which dwells on Shadow magic and some Warlock ethics. The warlock ethics books are written by that lady whose assassin I am trying to find."
Chess continued to read the novel to Lynesia aloud, changing his voice to match each character.
"I suppose some people have a gift to write erotic novels," Lynesia commented.
"Imagine the opportunities to do subject matter research!" Chess quipped, grinning.
Lynesia laughed. "Would you write erotic novels?"
Chess smiled. "I have to talent for writing fiction, although sometimes my clients wonder about my reports..."
Lynesia offered Jonathan her hand, and when he took it pulled him forward for a kiss.
Lynesia let out out a soft happy sigh and pulls away. "So! Now what?"
"Now I continue reading to you?
Lynesia leaned back on the bed, her robes stretching tightly across her breasts. "How long is this book?" she asks him softly.
"... a few hours worth of reading?"
"...How does it end?"
"Passionately," Chess answered decisively, and then clarified his answer. "I suppose. I had not finished this one yet."
"I have an idea..." Lynesia purred, her voice growing husky. "How about instead of you reading the book to me, we skip to acting out some of the scenes?" She smiled at Jonathan in a way that left no doubt as to her intent.
"Books are over-rated," Chess said, tossing the book over his shoulder and joining Lynesia on the bed.
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