Rescuing Joe Brandstone - Client report

Lady Elaianna,

I met the kal'dorei tracker Tralaia in Darnassus, where she consented to track the location of Brandstone. We traveled to Booty where the tracking charm led is to a large compound outside of a mine entrance.

The compound has guards, both magical and traditional, as does the mine. We counted well over a score of guards external to the mine. No idea how many are within the mine itself.

The compound has a large house, several smaller houses, a stable, a ruined stone watchtower, a lumber mill and at the back of the compound is the mines, which lead deep underground. Near the stables is a place where they keep panthers and tigers in cages near the stables so they can be trained as beasts of war.

We believe that Joe is being held in the mines.

My assumption was that you would instruct us how best to proceed in this matter. Tralaia and I will be pleased to lead a rescue force or attempt to rescue Joe by stealth, at your discretion. In any case, time is of the essence.

I await your command.

(enclosed are charcoal sketches of the compound)

Contact Report

eport of Contact between Jon Chess and Acinovath of House Mourningsong

Scarlet Raven Tavern, Darkshire

=======================================================================

Acinovath:  Mister Chess? I am Lord Acinovath Sunora, of House Mourningsong. I received word from a Lady Alexis Greystone that you're investigating my Lady Raysse Nightvale, for possible treason?

Chess: That is correct

Acinovath: Are you at liberty to discuss how you were clued onto her?

Chess: I am not; client confidentiality is important, whether beggar or SI:7

Acinovath: Alright, fair enough. I can respect professionalism. What about the specifics of the charges that are being leveled against her? Treason could mean a great many things. If we're to absolve her of any accused wrong-doing, it would greatly help to know what she's being accused of exactly.

Chess: Perfectly understandable.  Might I add my personal welcome to yourself and your Ren'dorei associates?  I have long been of the opinion that the people who became known as the Sin'dorei were pushed into the hands of the Horde because of short-sighted Alliance bigotry.

Acinovath: Your acceptance is welcome, as is your welcoming of us back into the fold. 

Acinovath: *runs a hand through his hair* Well, is there anything in specific you are able to tell me about your investigation so far?

Chess:  Further, while my investigation of Lady Raysee Nightvale is confidential, may I say that she has my personal sympathy for what she has undergone.  And of course, by extension, yourselves.

Acinovath: Once more, your sympathies are appreciated. It's too few who make any attempt to understand what we've gone through, what has led us to being here.

Chess: I also freely offer that, should charges result from my investigation, I will happily testify to her benefit.  My personal beliefs are not..relevant. I am well-experienced in testifying under Oath in court, as you might imagine.  I know how to parse my words with great precision.

  

Acinovath: I imagine so. I'm curious, Mister Chess, do you take on multiple cases at a time, or do you limit yourself to only one investigation?

Chess: I often have ongoing concurrent cases, when there is no conflict of interest.

Acinovath: *nods twice, humming as he does* Very good, very good. I would like to hire you then, once your current investigation has finished.

Chess: What would be the general nature of the investigation?

 *pause* Wait.

Acinovath: *raises his eyebrow inquisitively at Chess*

Chess:  Before you answer, let me remind you my investigation is not complete, and so this interview could be potentially be examined under oath. Tell me no secrets. I offer that with honesty and respect, to a potential client.

== END REPORT ==

The Creation of Jon Chess

The creation of Jon Chess was inspired by this song from the musical "CHESS".

(The Idena Menzel version is here!)

Nobody's Side

Florence:
You want to lose your only friend
Well, keep it up you're doing fine
Why this humiliation?
Why treat me like a fool?
I've taken shit for seven years
And I won't take it any more!

The American:
I'm only teasing Soviets
With gentle bonhomie
And you've a better reason to be anti-them than me.

Florence:
There's a time and there's a place.

The American:
Is this the girl who always said
She wants to know the truth?

Florence:
There's a time and there's a place

Chorus, sotto voce:
(1956, Budapest is rising
1956, Budapest is rising)

The American:
I'd have thought you'd support
Any attack on these people

Chorus, sotto voce:
(1956, Budapest is rising)

The American:
On the people who ran
Mindlessly over your childhood
Don't let them fool you
For thirty years on they're the same

Chorus, sotto voce:
(1956, Budapest is fighting
1956, Budapest is falling)

The American:
They see chess as a war
Playing with pawns just like Poland

Chorus, sotto voce:
(1956, Budapest is dying)

The American:
If you walk out on me
They will have won the first battle
Wouldn't your father
Have begged you to stay in the game?

Florence:
He would, but he didn't know you
He'd loathe your behavior, and so do I
Why'd you have to do this to me?
What's going on around me
Is barely making sense
I need some explanations fast
I see my present partner
In the imperfect tense
And I don't see how we can last

I feel I need a change of cast

Maybe I'm on nobody's side!

And when he gives me reasons
To justify each move
They're getting harder to believe
I know this can't continue
I've still a lot to prove
There must be more I could achive
But I don't have the nerve to leave!

Everybody's playing the game
But nobody's rules are the same
Nobody's on nobody's side!

Better learn to go it alone
Recognize you're out on your own
Nobody's on nobody's side!

The one I should not think of
Keeps rolling through my mind
And I don't want to let that go
No lover's ever faithful
No contract truly signed
There's nothing certain left to know
And how the cracks begin to show

Never make a promise or plan
Take a little love when you can
Nobody's on nobody's side

Never stay too long in your bed
Never lose your heart, use your head
Nobody's on nobody's side

Never take a stranger's advice
Never let a friend fool you twice
Nobody's on nobody's side

Everybody's playing the game
But nobody's rules are the same
Nobody's on nobody's side

Never leave a moment too soon
Never waste a hot afternoon
Nobody's on nobody's side

Never stay a minute too long
Don't forget the best will go wrong
Nobody's on nobody'side

Never be the first to believe
Never be the last to deceive
Nobody's on nobody's side

Never make a promise or plan
Take a little love when you can
Nobody's on nobody's side

Finding Joe Brandstone

The gnome mage Phredaria looked up as the door to her subterranean workshop opened.  "Jon, is that you?" she called out, readying both fire and ice should the intruder not be the only other person who knew where the entrance to her lab was.

"Just me, Phred!" confirmed Chess, as he came into the chamber.  Phred winced - Jon was wearing the uniform he had worn when operating as the ruthless but efficient assassin for Kul Tiras, under the name of "The Rook".  Even his helmet was styled with feathers and a beak; he had joked that he had been trained to be a Rook of the rookery called Ravenholdt.  That name had followed him to Northrend, where he had operated with Alliance sanction, specializing in commando operations of the kind that disgusted real soldiers - but saved their lives nonetheless.

Phred felt the kind of frustration only someone who watched a dearly beloved friend commit actions which invariably led to self-destruction.  The physical and psychic torture he had undergone at the hands of the Crimson Cabal had been bad enough without them adding the Fel addiction of the narcotic Sa'Diablo into the mix -but they had.  Phred felt she was witnessing the slow splintering of Chess' mind into chaos, and it shook her to the core of her being.  She had no idea how to help, although she had begun searching, albeit unsuccessfully, through the research archives of the Kirin Tor for a cure.

"I need a locator charm, as fast as you can make it, Phred.  One of Elaianna's people has been taken, and we need to find him."  Jon didn't mention possible consequences - Phred was all too aware of the stakes in kidnap cases.  Fortunately, Phred had developed a great deal of experience in such charms when she had served with Jon in Northrend.

"What do you have to work with, she asked, already pulling ingredients for the crafting ritual from her supply cabinet.

"Can you overlay it onto something already enchanted?"  Jon asked.  "I have a letter from the malefactors."

Jon handed Phred the letter, and the golden anchor pendant Elaianna  had given him for communications.

"Sure, if you don't mind tracking the letters' author, and not the victim himself.  This a paying job, as if I don't already know the answer?"  Phred was well aware of Jon's personal loyalty to the former Kul Tiran ambassador.

"This one is personal, not professional, Phred.  The guy missing is a friend, as well as one of the Anchor Trading Company."  Jon grinned, tossing a large purse of gold on her table.  "But this is for expenses and the remainder for the fund for relocating Gnomeregan refugees."

Phred nodded absently.  When work was personal, Jon and she traded favors, hers most often taking rescue runs into Gnomeregan.

"OK, let me see what I can do," Phred reassured her close friend.

"Excellent... if we can't find Joe directly, the Rook will make sure the author sheds light on his location."  Phred shuddered.  Jon Chess was a gentle but passionate man and a follower of the Light.

The Rook was a ruthless killer and would stop at nothing to achieve mission success, no matter how much it would cost the Jon Chess part of him.

Phred mourned for her friend and vowed to find a solution to both the Fel addiction and his shattered psyche.  Something had to heal Jon before the Rook drove him to destruction.

Prophecy

Jonathan Chess did not often visit the island home of the Darkmoon Faire, but he had thought that visiting it with Lynesia might make a fun outing for the two of them. Lynesia was constantly busy preparing and teaching classes in combat magic to the recruits f the <Brotherhood of the Horse>, often working long into the night.  She was tired, and Jonathan thought she deserved a treat, so he went to the

Located in the Great Sea, Darkmoon Island was the home of the eponymous Darkmoon Faire, owned by Silas Darkmoon. The Darkmoon Faire was a carnival that ran throughout the year, with arcane portals available in Goldshire one week out of every month.  Jonathan had visited the island, making plans to delight his lover.

Wih military precision, Chess had done a reconnaissance, locating the food vendors and entertainments he thought that Lynesia might like best.   while he was there, he had visited the Fortune Teller, a gnoll named Sayge, who was located between the Southern Pavilion and the Ring Toss. Sayge had seemingly gone into a trance, and had recited what some had called a prophecy, that said:

The Rook will fall to blood and fire

Tormented for his heart's desire

Shadow-forsaken, his screams will sing

Saved by She of the ebon wing

Chains will shatter by tooth and claw

Death will come by bloody paw

Ellemayne come to slay and burn

Fire will come and mercy spurn

Her Rook will fight with venomed claw

Kal'dorei saved, but homeland fall

Vengance taken with rage and gore

Blessed be Her shalla'tor.

Jonathan had not understood but had visited Darassus, as some of the words sounded Darnassian.  The Kal'dorei people with which he had spoken had been unfriendly and sent him away with the advice to consult with a Druid of the Talon.  Chess had gone to the Shrine of Aviana at Mout Hyjal.  The had been unable to decipher the meaning, but Jon, who had been suffering from sleeplessness after his torture and the psychic damage to his mind, had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep for the first time in weeks.

Jonathan had been enlighted, at least a little bit, by a Druid of great age.  he had translated some of the words Chess had not known.  Jonathan assumed the first part had referred to his kidnapping and torture because he had been identified as a supporter of the recent Ren'dorei additions to the Alliance; his lover Lynesia was one of them.  During his years attached to the Alliance military, and before that working for the Kul Tirasian government as a spy and assassin, he had been known as the Rook. However, Jonathan had no memory of his rescue from his imprisonment - the priestess Priann had, during her partially successful attempt to heal the damage to Jon's mind, had seen images indicating that a shapeshifting Worgen druid had been responsible.

Ellemayne was the Darnassian word for "riever"; the second seemed to predict a bloody conflagration with the Kal'dorei. Shalla'tor meant "shadow render".  Further, the venerable druid had informed him that Shalla'tor and Ellemayne were two magic elven blades forged during the War of the Ancients and wielded by the twins Vor'Illian and Lo'Vellian.  The two had been merged into one blade named Shalamayne, used by his late Majesty Varian Wrynn.

Jonathan didn't know what it meant, but whatever the interpretation, it didn't sound good for the Rook. 

The Unsympathetic Man

For the first time in weeks, Jonathan Chess felt like celebrating.


He had been sitting at his usual table in the Pig & Whistle tavern in the Old Town section of Stormwind when a nervous, balding gnome came into the establishment.  Jon paid little attention to him until he asked a question at the bar, and the barkeep pointed at Chess.

The gnome had waddled over and taken a seat at the table.

"I am being told you are Jonathan Chess, yes?" the gnome asked, in the heavily-accented Common tongue.  

Jonathan nodded acknowledgment.  "Yes, my name is Chess.  Jon Chess."

"I am being of the understanding that you look for a human with a blue scar on his right cheek, yes?"

Jonathan leaned forward, his attention instantly focusing on the gnome. "Yes, if it the right man."

"Ah, well the time shall test if it is so, yes?  Llort Manaspark is my name, and I work in the Hall of Explorers in the library.  I was hearing of this from Bill Spearshaker, who heard it from I know not where, but remembering it I did when I stopped at the Blue Recluse after delivering books to the Mage Academy, yes?"

"Go on," Chess encouraged.  "May I offer you a drink?"

"Oh, hospitable are you, most appreciative am I, yes?  A loud fellow speaking was, about how the Scarlet Crusade was not wrong about the burning of the new blue-skin elves, yes?  He was bald as a stone, and his cheek a blue colored scar had he, yes?"

"Yes, that sounds like the right fellow.  Did you hear his name, or know where he went?"

"Of a certainty, his name I have, yes? " continued the gnome.  "Quoth he, 'Simon D'Arque's mother did not raise credulous fools' he said, an argument with a Worgen he was having."

Jon had not waited for confirmation but had paid the gnome on the spot.  With a name, he might get somewhere!  Jonathan finished his tankard of Hearthglen Ambrosia and left the tavern.  At this time of day, the person he wanted was likely to be at home, asleep.  

Five minutes later he was brewing coffee for a very sleepy woman who had been rousted out of her warm, snug bed, named Sloan McCoy.  Sloan was the sister of a petty grifter named Lenny "Fingers" McCoy, and Jonathan had kept her brother from arrest a couple of times, providing him with forged documents proving provenance for worthless charms on more than one occasion. Sloan and Chess shared an interest in certain ingredients requisite in the manufacture of certain poisons and sometimes loaned each other quantities of those ingredients on demand, with no inconvenient questions asked.

"Sloan, you look magnificent today" Jonathan flirted.  She did indeed look cute, her hair touseled from bed, and her supple, sleek form bundled in a warm bed robe.

"Jon, bad enough you woke me up; do you have to shovel shit on me, too?" she replied, her voice heavy with exhaustion.  "What do you need?"

"I need a file, all you might have, on a guy named Simon D'Arque," Jon had informed the young lady, handing her a cup of freshly-brewed coffee. He didn't offer money, he didn't tell her it was urgent, he didn't try to twist her arm - she knew Chess very well, and while still a little groggy from sleep she knew better than to think Jonathan would bother her for a trivial matter.  She didn't want cash - she wanted an unspecified favor.  She knew it, and Jonathan knew it.

Later that day, Chess wrote a letter to the Ren'dorei ambassador to Stormwind, a fellow named Mathaeus.  It read:

My Lord, 

Weeks ago I reported that I was searching for two people who had organized my kidnapping and torture from Stormwind and that they had embraced the path of persecution for Ren'dorei, believing them to be Sin'dorei spies and saboteurs. This group calls themselves the Crimson Cabal, and they are responsible for numerous assaults and homicides against Rendorei in Stormwind homocides

I have identified one of the malefactors.  His name is Simon D'Arque, and he works for the SI:7 organization as an interrogator.  He is a former Inquisitor of the Scarlet Crusade and the Scarlet Onslaught, was captured by the Alliance forces and recruited by SI:7.  

It is unclear at this time how much sanction he is given by SI:7 as a member of the Crimson Cabal.

I will send you an updated report when I have more information

-Jon Chess

Breakfast in Dalaran

(WARNING "Breakfast in Dalaran" is an adult smut  NSFW story, 18+ only!)

Breakfast in Dalaran 

Smoothing the Psyche Shards

((Co-written with Priann, with gratitude.  All mistakes are my own))

Jon Chess sat on a soft blanket in a quiet, wooded section of the Stormwind outskirts.  His eyes were closed, was doing his best to calm his mind, which was overcharged with anxiety and fear - his mind imagined Defias bandits behind every tree, Blackrock orc spies, and - in honor of the Noblegarten season - red-teethed carnivorous Worgen-cursed bunny rabbits.

He could feel what ordinarily would be a pleasant sensation - a pretty woman snuggled up behind him, all of her attention on him.  Unfortunately, nothing about Jonathan was normal any longer, not even that aberrant state he used to think of as "normal".

Her name was Priann, and she was a Priestess of the Light attached to the Stormwind Cathedral. She had run across Chess near the Blue Recluse while he had leaned against the wall   Walking with his wounds - broken ribs, dislocated knee, and knife cuts - while his torso was a mass of discolored bruises had been exhausting and he had needed to take a short rest before continuing.

She had channeled the Light, healing his visible wounds.  Later, she had discovered that his wounds were not merely physical; the Dark Lady had broken his mind, and had amused herself by playing with Chess' mind like a piano for her sadistic amusement.  She had just been starting to rebuild Chess as a weapon when someone had rescued Chess from his imprisonment and her depredations.

Priann had tried something Jon had never heard of before; in the Cathedral after hearing Jon's confession, she had entered Jon's mind - not deep enough to read and assess the chaos of his thoughts, but enough that she could channel and infuse Jon with happy thoughts of optimism and contentment.  Priann herself was good-natured and sweet-tempered, and her emotional resonance had provided Jon with the first hope he had experienced since his return.

Today she would go deeper, and the idea was terrifying him, but he needed to do something.  The sight of Ren'dorei - even dear Lynesia - continued to fill him with rage, but he had so far managed to keep himself under control. It had been two weeks since he had been able to sleep, and his control was slipping.  He would not allow himself to be made into a weapon against the Ren'dorei - he would not.  They'd find him face-down in the canals first.

He could feel Priann rubbing his back and shoulders, to try and get him to a more relaxed state.

"Relax, Jon. I promise everything will be okay," she said.

Jon Chess noded.  "Working on it..." he murmured.

"Focus on your breathing. In....and out. Nice and steady, okay?" she instructed.

"Sorry... I haven't had my... medicine today." Jon informed.

"You take medicine?"

"The addiction."

Priann flushed, feeling shame.  She had forgotten that his captors had addicted him to the drug Sa'Diablo as part of their torture.  Priann closed her own eyes for a moment, her thumbs making small circles across the top of his back. She began to focus the power of the Light through her hands.  Her fingers moved up the back of his neck, slowly spreading a warm and tingly sensation.

She opened her eyes, but could not see; her mind had turned inwards to the chaotic battlefield which was Jon Chess' psyche.  She summoned her will and tried to pervade his thoughts with a calming presence like she had before.  She went deeper this time, and could feel the foul Fel influences of the Sa'Diablo, like a corrupting green overlay.  She felt strains of Darkness as well; Jon had told her he was a practitioner of the Shadow magics of the Arakkoa, using its power for concealment and evasion in the Broken Isles.  Deeper still she went, slowly and with the utmost care.

She felt Jon relax slightly beneath her hands.  Slowly, carefully Priann began to weave threads together within him - tendrils of Light, visions of protection, reassuring visions of the Naaru and other angelic beings besting dark faceless foes.  She felt him relax even more - Jon's faith in the Light was a strong core within him.

Deeper.  She needed to go deeper, to find the cause of his suffering.

She was aware that Jon had begun to tremble with fear and rage as she caught glimpses of the war within his subconscious mind.  Images, sounds, tastes all assembled in a chaotic melange - flashes of the torture he had endured,  images of Worgen slaughtering civilians in Pyrewood, the Dark Lady playing his negative emotional scale like a piano, linking violence and death to love and affection.  She became aware of just how finely balanced on an edge of a knife he was; how the scent and touch of a Ren'doeri woman -  his lover? - inspired both tender care and an unreasoning impulse to violent rampage.  Jon Chess mind was filled with violent impulses barely suppressed, a constant barrage of savagery kept in check by will alone.

Priann strengthened her resolve, becoming an apparition of a white and blue, like a Light-infused Valkyra shieldmaiden.  Light battled the Fel influences, and she felt for a moment that she might stumble before its relentless power, but she withstood it until it fell back before the Light.  She saw that the Light had been augmented by some new power, a golden influence strangely familiar to her.  She followed it back to more memories, deeply suppressed by Chess' mind.  She saw a short woman with pale skin and bright red hair arranged in matted ropes change into a red-furred Worgen shape, her muzzle splattered with white freckles.  Her pelt looked short and smooth, and Priann thought that it might feel of velvet to the touch.

Priann watched as the woman invaded an underground catacomb, fighting with the guardians who sought to deny her entrance. The Worgen seemed to flow like liquid between panther, bear, and Worgen forms, her paws extracting a bloody price upon those who stood guard against her intrusion.  She saw her burst a prison cell door asunder, and remove Jon's naked, broken form.  She watched as she bore his body away, taking the form of a raven.  Jon had not seemed conscious - Priann assumed that between his fear or Worgen and the hallucinogenic properties of Sa'Diablo, his mind had buried it deep as a waking nightmare he didn't need.

A druid.  Jon Chess had been rescued by a Worgen druid.

Priann felt herself withdrawing from Jon Chess' mindscape; she was nearing the end of her strength, and while the damage to Jon was not undone, Priann felt she had lessened the grip of both the damage and the addiction of the Sa'Diablo drug.  Perhaps now Jon would be able to sleep.

She hoped so.

Jon's Bookcase

((I had thought I'd posted this already, but couldn't find it!  Where possible, I have actual copies!))

Fiction:

• HER SIDE OF THE BED - Kassarise Lillian Blythe
• SWEET SCANDALS - Kassarise Lillian Blythe
• 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: Big Brass Bombs
• A Steamy Romance Novel: Got Milk?
• A Steamy Romance Novel: Northern Exposure
• A Steamy Romance Novel: Savage Passions
• A Steamy Romance Novel: Nightborne of the Living Dead
• A Steamy Romance Novel: Of Elvin Bondage
• A Steamy Romance Novel: Waves of Desire

• Rogue's Diary
• VENOMOUS TOME
• WILDHAMMER BOOK OF VERSE
• MUSINGS OF THE HIGH GENERAL by General Abbendis
• DIRTY TRICKS VOL1 - DETECTION

Still looking for:

• A Steamy Romance Novel: Blue Moon