Bad Poetry

Jon Chess reads the [Bad Troll Love Poem] to the subject of a Missing Persons case last night, in a Yoda-esque faux-Troll accent:

Oh, baby, my heart beats like a drum,
Every time I touch your bum.
I know my way with words is slick ,
Do you wanna come and touch my stick?

Siege of Boralus, Part Two

The fellow that most people called Jon Chess sped towards the Boralus docks, racing after the team that had rescued Jaina Proudmoore from where Lady Ashvane had imprisoned her.  Jon had been present when Lady Jaina had been reunited with her mother, the Lord High Admiral, Katherine Proudmoore - and had thus been at hand when they had been told of Lady Ashvale's treasonable invasion, heading here with a naval squadron of Irontide Raiders, pirates who were based in Freehold.  She had also sent other creatures to attack, creatures that her foul sorceries had dredged up from the deep. Jon ran across the dockside but before he could catch up with his team, Jon saw a small group of Irontide raiders head for a group of Boralus civilians.  Jon hesitated for merely a fraction of a second, abandoning a reunion with his team and headed for the Irontide invaders.

The Irontime raiders were focused on the depreradation of the civilians and did not even note Chess' approach until he was close enough to draw throw a poisoned spike into the neck of the rearmost of them. As the target fell, the venom already causing convulsions as the potent mixture of Deathweed and Essense of Agony took effect, the pirate falling to his knees and frothing at his mouth like a mad dog.  Jon's cutlass and dagger caught another pirate in the gut, his cutlass parrying while he planted his dagger in the pirate's abdomen.  Chess twisted it to free it, ducking under an Azerite cutlass and leaping between two of the remaining enemy to cause the Irontide bandits from firing their flintlock firearms at him.

He saw the iron-tipped cudgel descending toward his head, almost in slow motion.  He tried to raise either of his weapons to intercept it, but his own weapons were already engaged.  He saw it descending, knowing that the iron band of the cudgel would burst his head like a Striped Melon.

Or would have, had it been allowed to continue unimpeded.  A large, elongated blade suffused with green Fel fire intercepted the club, lopping the iron cap from the club and continuing into the pirate's throat.  Other swords whipped by him, killing the other two pirates he had been fighting, and the Shivarra demon spun away to pursue other Irontide raiders until they were surrounded by no more living enemies.

"Jon Chess... Agent of Cheese and an apparent fool, charging in to save civilians from the Irontide when they outnumbered him six or more to one, said a familiar voice.

"Fortunately, you were here to save me... or rather, to command Rhavia to save me... from my folly," Jon replied, turning to behold the Ren'dorei warlock, Lady No’lariel Shadowglaive.

No’lariel Shadowglaive had been born in Silvermoon City to noble parents and had grown into a paragon of Sin'dorei beauty, her waist-length golden hair and bright Fel-green eyes making men stumble over their words upon encountering her.  She had never been hesitant to entice the eyes of her admirers with a teasing show of skin, neither as a Sin'dorei nor as a Shadow- corrupted Ren'dorei.  She was clad in newly-established Ren'dorei raiment.  She had felt... limited in her abilities as a warlock serving the Horde and had adopted the Void more out of curiosity than anything else - a curiosity as to how the Void would augment her capabilities.

Now she stood proudly, her deep purple hair still falling to her waist, her luminescent pale blue eyes glowing with satisfaction, and her sardonic smirk tinging it with not a little amusement.  She was intrigued by Jon Chess, a Shadow adept who regularly confessed and prayed at the Cathedral of Light, a man devoted to helping others as he had tried to rescue the civilians under threat, heedless of the likely cost to himself and at the same time a cunning and adept killer of anyone the Alliance military deemed a threat. the contradictions... fascinated her.

"Fortunately, you were here to save me... or rather, to command Rhavia to save me... from my folly," Jon replied, turning to behold the Ren'dorei warlock, Lady No’lariel Shadowglaive.

"I doubt you would have a folly Jon, but we do have to discuss you taking on a whole battalion of pirates in one go," she replied, motioning at the bodies around them.

"Yeah, but now I have you and Rhiva.  So now instead of one man against hundreds, we have three against hundreds, right?  The odds just got much better!" Jon grinned insolently.  "Up to a little more knight-errancy, even if neither of us is a knight in shining armor?"

"Well, maybe you might pass for one... if the armor was tarnished somewhat," she laughed.  Nola looked about, smirking as she assessed the situation. "We're here as it is so might as well show them how it's done. You get them in the back, dear shadow-walker. I'll keep their front quite warm." She chanted a summoning.

Jon watched the Shivarra fade into nothingness as No’lariel summoned a replacement - her imp Relpad, who danced with joy at being summoned once more.  "Ordinarily, I'd be a gentleman and let you precede me... but under the circumstances, perhaps I should go first?"  Jon took a step back, and mumbling an incantation in the language of the Arakkoa, and faded into the concealment of the shadows.  Together, Chess and No’lariel headed deeper into the city, to find and neutralize more miscreants. 

Arranging a Loan, Part One

The fellow known as Jon Chess sat in the common room of the Pig & Whistle tavern in the city of Stormwind, sipping at his mug of Suramar Spiced Tea.  He had been asked by his former scout team member, Telcontyr, for a meeting, but the note had not indicated the subject of the meeting.

Jon sat at his usual table, the one located under the stairs; when Jon had been a private investigator, this had been his de facto office for client meetings; it was dark, it was comfortable, there was food and drink readily available, and the clientele of the Pig & Whistle were often shady characters or outright criminals, ideal for meeting informants.  Smuggling, larceny, assassination, bribery... all of those things were common practice in the Old Town section of Stormwind, and Chess had cultivated a very good reputation for keeping his nose out of others' business until or unless it impacted himself or his customers.

He watched as Telcontry, or "Tyr", as Jon called him, entered the Pig & Whistle, looked around, found Chess, and moved to join him. As he approached, Jon remembered how he had found Telcontyr in the Stormwind Stockade, awaiting trial for the destruction of private property (he had set fire to the war banners of the Scarlet Crusaders recruiting near the Cathedral) and resisting attest by the Stormwind Guards.

Jon had met with Matthias Shaw earlier that day - Shaw had reactivated his rank as a Commander in the Alliance Recon Scouts and charged him with building a fire team for operations in Zandalar.  Jon had contacted some of his old friends from his service in Northrend but had needed more people, and the kind of skills useful for a Recon Scout was the same kind of skills needed as a Recon Scout - sneaking around enemy forces, stealing or destroying maps, plans, or supplies, and killing silently without hesitation.  Jon had offered Tyr a place on his team and arranged to have him freed when Tyr had accepted.   They had worked well together since, on or off the record.

"Commander, its good to see you," greeted Tyr, a white smile in an otherwise deep-blue countenance.

"I've told you - my name is Chess, Jon Chess. Either.  Or.  Not Commander - I've retired again,"  Chess reminded him.

"Yes Commander," Telconttyr responded with an insolent grin.

Jon sighed.  "Hopeless"

"So... Commander... I want to ask a favor, and I want you to hear me out before you say no, OK?"

Jon nodded.

"I need you to loan me 25,000 gold so I can have a motorcycle built.  I've joined the Onyx Jackals, and they say until I have a motorcycle, I'm a pledge - which means everybody's servant."

Jon laughed. "Oh, Fel-Shadows and Little Ravens... is this because I sent you with the payment for my repair bill?  I thought it was because you wanted to buy something to impress Linenia, like a diamond ring or something."

"She is rich - there isn't anything I could buy her that she'd actually want, really," Telcontyr replied, his face flushing a deeper indigo as he blushed.

"I doubt that has ever stopped men from trying before," Jon said, laughing.

"Yeah, well..." Tyr responded.  "I suspect that she can't be bought by anything I can afford..."

"No, but it might please her, you trying?"  Jon teased. "Still, what makes you think I have 25 thousand just sitting around for the giving?"

"Do you?: Telcontyr asked.

"Well, two possibilities exist... If I don't have that much cash I'd tell you 'No'/  If I did have that much money sitting around, uninvested, the answer, I would be a complete idiot to tell known criminals like ourselves that I had that piled up, just waiting to e stolen, so I suppose that the answer is 'No'" Jon said, adding when Tyr's eye dropped dejectedly. "But I know someone who DOES have that much cash laying around..."

"Oh?  Whose that?" asked Telcontyr, his smile returning like a wilful housecat at feeding time.

"Jastor Gallywix, the Trade Prince of the Bilgewater Cartel."

Chess Song (Sung to the theme song from SHAFT)

Sent to me by an RP friend... with friends like these?  LOL

Who's the human Shadow-walker
That has a weakness for Ren'dorei chicks?
(Chess!)

Ya damn right
Who is the Rogue who wound man that would risk his neck
For Dwarven miners?

(Chess)
Can you dig it?

Who's the dolt that won't fade out
When there's Forsaken all about?

(Chess)

Right on

They say this rogue Chess is a bad mother - (Shut your mouth)
But I'm talkin' 'bout Chess - (Then we can play it)

He's a complicated man
But no one understands him but his Void Elf

(Jon Chess)

Record Keeping

The man some knew as Jon Chess finished the paperwork for the report on the mission to Silverbrook, and sighed - he would need to copy it again and leave a copy on Slaiyn'e desk so that the Brotherhood of Valor Scouts unit had a record; his own copy would go back to the vault in Stormwind, where it would join the case files from his time as a private investigator.

He looked over the mission report with a critical eye once more.

Mission Report - Silverbrook Murders

Operatives Involved:  Jon Chess, Zane, Lennie

Locations: Silverbrook

Action Report:
* Investigated the disappearances of Silverbrook civilian loggers.
* Jon Chess used his Agent of Cheese cover.
* Zane posed as Jon's apprentice of Cheese. Zane showed herself to be mentally flexible.  Her charisma is a remarkable asset.
* Lennie provided muscle during the investigation.
* Disappearances proved to be attributed to feral Worgen west of Silverbrook.
* The pack of feral Worgen was eliminated as a threat with extreme prejudice.
* Cover intact upon exit.  Recommend periodic re-visitation to keep the cover intact, and develop local information resources.

Jon had been bemused at how quickly Zane had taken Jon's cover story and embellished it without pause; the Silverbrook folk had been faintly hostile to an Agent of Cheese but had fallen all over themselves to be helpful to his "apprentice". Zane was... impressive.  She was clever, and had taken flirty manipulation from an art to a science.  Jon would let her take the lead in negotiations - while Jon was relatively charming, he recognized that compared to Zane, he was an ogre with halitosis.

She was also quite deadly, and calm in a fight.  She had dispatched one of the feral Worgen by stabbing it in the occipital lobe and had put a flintlock bullet in the head of another without batting an eye.  Both Jon and she had lost their shirts to Worgen claw during the fight, but she had continued without a break in her demeanor, teasing Jon about his own scars.

So...brave, beautiful, talented, deadly... and ruthless.  She would bear watching, and not only because Jon appreciated her rather formidable charms.  However, he was determined to keep his professional life on a professional basis.

On the other hand, she had indicated that he owed her dinner for the free show...

The Siege of Boralus - Part One

The man known as Jon Chess ran after his compatriots, spoiling for a fight.

Weeks ago, Chess at been introduced to the Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras, Katherine Proudmoore, by Genn Greymane.  Jon had been amazed when he had been summoned by his Royal Majesty of Gilneas.

"Relax, Master Chess," Greymane had chuckled when Jon had reported as ordered, in his uniform as a Commander in the reconnaissance scouts.  Although formally inactive after the Battle for Lordaeron, Jon found that the uniform was useful in working with the 7th Legion on sub rosa assignments.  "My daughter has informed me of your actual role here, on behalf of Elling Trias and the Alliance, and I thank you for your service.  You make your nation proud."  Apparently, his daughter, Princess Tess Greymane, Shadowblade and one of the head council of the Uncrowned, had also told her father that Jon was Gilnean, and had been sent to the Stormwind Orphanage after the destruction of Pyrewood by Arugal and his feral Worgen.

Greymane had ordered Chess to accompany him to meet the Lord Admiral, where Genn had introduced him as "Master Chess, who my daughter has relied upon for discrete investigations before," and recommended Jon to her for help in locating and freeing her daughter Jaina.  After many inquiries, Jon had tracked her to the prison of Tol Daggor, where Priscilla Ashvane had imprisoned her.

Jon had been part of the tram which had assaulted Tol Daggor through the sewers - which Jon had felt was quite fitting for an old Stormwind street rat like himself - and had peen present for the short-lived reunion between mother and daughter.


"It is good to feel the sea air. Thank you, all of you," she had said to the team which had liberated her.  "Without your intervention, I may never have felt it again..."

"Now, let me see if I can do it properly this time... Welcome home, daughter," the Lord Admiral had said.

"Mother... I.. " said Lady Jaina before she was interrupted by Taelia Fordragfon, a member of the Proudmore Guard and squire to Cyrus Crestfall, the Harbormaster of Boralus.

"Lord Admiral! Ships on the horizon! They're flying Ashvane colors!"

"Priscilla has come back for my city," said Katherine Proudmore. She had turned to the rescue team, and said "My friends! It seems I am in need of your aid once more.  Taelia! Take them and muster the militia. Jaina and I will prepare the defenses."

She then turned to her daughter. "It seems our homecoming will have to wait."

"Understood... Lord Admiral," replied Lady Jaina.  She had turned to Jon and said. "Excuse me, Master Chess?  A moment before you go?

"I'll head to the outskirts and alert the citizens," commanded Taelia to the rescue team. "Hurry to the docks, I'll meet you there!  Chess, catch up when you are finished!"  The rescue team and Taelia wasted no time in departing to their assignments.

Jon nodded and turned to Lady Jaina. "Madame, how may I be of service?"

"Master Chess... I think we know each other, although I knew you only as 'Rook' at the time.  Are you the same fellow that was part of Captain Kestral's crew?"  Captain Kestral had served Lady Jaina as the head of the Theramore Secret Service.

"I had that honor, milady.  I was her Cabin Boy," answered Jon.

"Cabin boy, indeed!  You were a great deal more to her... and to Theramore.  She spoke to me of you often... I am sorry - I did not know you had survived. I am sorry for your loss."

Captain Kestral and the operatives of <Universal Exports> had been almost entirely lost when Theramore had been destroyed by the Horde mana bomb.

"We all lost much, then, Lady Jaina," Jon acknowledged, bowing.

"Yes...  yes we did.  But I wanted to thank you, Master Chess... Rook.." her voice dropped to a soft, low, intimate tone.  "...Jon. Thank you, for all you have given... to the Alliance, and to me."  She paused and seemed to recover somewhat.  "But we both have work to do.  Good fortune attend you, Master Chess, Agent of Cheese."  She had turned to attend to her duties.  Jon left at a sprint, heading for the docks and the battle to come.  Only a single tear fled from his eye to mark the occasion.

Hospital Stay

The man most knew as Jon Chess woke up, finding himself in a Brotherhood of Valor hospital bed.  Jon felt nexus of pain in his shoulder, his chest, and his abdomen, where the ice spikes of a Frost-focused Death Knight had almost killed Jon.  Jon had accompanied a Brotherhood of Valor strike force to recover the son of Research Captain Gregwymor, and during the battle had engaged the Death Knight.  Jon had been as surprised as anyone when the Death Knight had sent ice spikes shooting out, and felt the agony when they impaled him in three places - and then he remembered nothing.

Jon's training took over, and he ran a swift assessment.  He was wearing a standard hospital robe, but his armor and weapons were nowhere to be found.  No sign of his envenomed knives, throwing spikes, smoke grenades, FRIED, blinding powder... now Jon felt naked and vulnerable.

Sometime later, Aresia, the Lightforged paladin field medic and Jon's friend and confidante, checked later on her patient. She had brought the gear Jon had left behind on the field of battle or taken off him during his medical treatment.

The bed in which she had left Jon Chess is empty.

*     *     *

Jon Chess had reappeared by the time anyone else thought to check on him. His wound dressings had been changed, and he had undergone additional healing via Alchemical means. A full set of seemingly new leathers and an arsenal of weapons, devices, and tiny grenades cover the table nearby.

"So Jon, I see you found your gear," said Aresia, who had returned to check on her patient. "Now, how do you feel about eating something solid for once?"

Jon relaxed - he had expected that Aresia would have scolded him for his unexcused sojourn during the middle of the night. "Well, I had to go get it... and it was difficult enough that I think I'll stay in bed for a while... but at least I was able to pace myself, and see what I could manage... speaking of which; why can't I cast cantrips?  I was in the open all the way to the... to where I keep spare supplies of this nature," Jon asked, covering the uncertainty on the subject.  In the Broken Isles, and in Kul Tiras, his ability to use Shadow magic in his small ways had kept him safe and alive.

Aresia paused, thinking, while she moved the grenades into a locked dresser near Jon, and handed him the key. "Just in case Little Z comes in and finds the grenades.  Cantrips?  If I remember correctly, you used those when you were training me on defense against mind control, they are Shadow based?"

"Yes, my cantrips are all based on Arakkoa Shadow magic - concealment, illusion, and using Void energies.  The mind defense stuff... well, the training in the Temple of the Tiger was superior, as it turned out, so I studied there, for a time."

Aresia sat next to Jon's bed, nodding as she listened.

"Well Jon, that explains a lot, I could joke and say you finally got your wish - we became one last a few nights ago, except it was through a blood transfusion and not your definition."  She smiled; Jon's bedroom antics had provided her with no small measure of entertainment, and he had often made joking overtures and professions of undying passion to te tall Draenei woman. "I happen to have a rare blood type that is acceptable to all beings, and since I became Lightforged, my blood is infused with Light, so it acts as a bit of internal healing mechanism, it greatly speeds healing all over the body when combined with Light-based healing.  And who knows, maybe it might add a few years to your life as well."

Jon frowned. "So... is the effect permanent?  I don't mind a few more years of longevity, but not if it gets me killed in the field!"

Aresia laughed. "Yes, soon your eyes will glow a golden hue and have an odd desire to adorn your horns to attract a suitable mate, she teased Jon. "No, it won't be permanent,  in fact, I think you should keep trying to use Shadow magic as a way of restoring balance to your body.  I am very interested when the Light infusement dissipates."

"Well, wouldn't I have to grow horns, first?" Jon chuckled.  "OK, I'll keep trying, and let you know how long the effect lasts...thank you, Ari.  I have too much to accomplish before I am forcibly retired as an Agent of Cheese!"  What Jon didn't mention is that with Jon having established a network of spies and informants in Kul Tiras and having helped free Jaina Proudmoor from durance vile, restoring her to the relative safety of her mother, the Lord Admiral Katherine Proudmoore, the job he had taken at the behest of Elling Trias under the guise of Trias' mercantile agent was rapidly coming to a close.  His reactivation as a Commander for the Alliance Military had been retired again after the Battle of Lordaeron.  While he would no doubt continue to be tasked for special assignments by the 7th Legion in Zandalar, he had almost successfully managed to put himself out of business.

Perhaps he would become an active Private Investigator again; he found helping people remarkably rewarding, and let him forgive a small part of the rotten things he did as a spy and assassin.

Cheese Network

Jon Chess' Cheese Network
=========================

Elling Trias - Boss (Stormwind, Trias' Cheese)
Elaine Trias - Station Head (Stormwind, Trias' Cheese) - Wife of Elling Trias
Ben Trias - Agent (Stormwind, Trias' Cheese) - Son of Elling Trias
Lucian Trias - Station Head (One More Glass, Dalaran/Broken Isles)
Agnes Farwithers - Agent (Durotaur/Brewfest)
David Trias - Agent (Undercity/Hall of Shadows) - Brother to Elling Trias, victim of the Plague.
Akrittok (Walrus, Icecrown/Argent Crusade Vendor) <Fresh Food>
Basik Osgood (Forasken Innkeeper, Howling Fjord)
Innkeeper Pala (Tauren Innkeeper, Thundr Bluff)
Kurd Butterhoof (Highmountain Vendor, Thunder Totem, Highmountain)
Kristin Stephens (Boralus, Cheese Vendor)
Kyrenna (Sin'dorei, Eversong Woods)

Guild Mission: Supply and Demand, part V

The assassin known as the Rook (the assassin persona of Jon Chess) watched from his vantage point as the dockworkers loaded the crates of munitions, and a sack of Azerite explosives, into a high-walled barge. When the barge was ready, it pushed away from the dock, and two Defias bargemen steered it into the middle of the river, content to let the current take it to its destination.

The Rook spoke a guttural, eldrich cantrip, summoning a giant shadow raven.  He mounted the beast and followed the barge from above the treeline, well out of sight of the Defias handlers.  The barge traveled downstream turning south, and finally landing at the ramshackle docks at Mortwake's Tower.  The crates of weapons, medical supplies, and explosives were offloaded from the barge to a large wagon.  The Rook landed nearby but out of sight, and dismissed the shadow raven.

Well-versed in the art of concealment, the Rook followed the wagon across the gnoll-infested grasslands, and up into the Dagger Hills.  The wagon went deep into the hills, all the way to where the hills overlooked the town of Moonbrook - the base of the Defias Brotherhood.  The Rook watched while the Defias unloaded the wagon into a large depot of similar supplies; clearly, they had been stockpiling the war material for some time and hoping to avoid detection by accumulating it in relatively small amounts at the time. he took careful note of where the bag of the Azerite explosives was placed.

The Rook waited until nightfall.  he had used the time to note where the guards of the stockpile were located, and how often they were replaced.  He waited until near midnight and watched the contingent of relief watchmen climb the hill from Moonbrook.

One by one, the Rook visited each position where the watchmen had been replaced and silently killed the replacement watchmen.  He then retrieved the Azerite explosives and replaced the chemical blasting caps with chemical blasting caps with timers.  Setting them to explode within an hour, he stashed the bombs at strategic places in the depot, often near barrels of gunpowder. When he finished, he retreated to his vantage point to wait.

The explosions, when they came, were magnificent.  The concussive force shook the ground for a quarter of a mile away and lit up the sky with its brilliance.

The Rook then spent the next few days backtracking the trail up the river from Jerod's Landing. he found where the shipments had come down from the mountains above Stone Cairn Lake, and taken my wagon south to the river by the Brakenwell Pumpkin Farm.  The Defias teamsters and wagons were based in the Brakenwell Pumpkin Farm - they died when the Rook unleashed a barrage of void spikes into their sleeping bodies, having already garroted their guards.

He found the arcanists who floated the crates of weapons the mountain walls.  They died in the conflagration of the F.R.I.E.D. (Fast-Roasting Incendiary Exploding Devices) given to him by Phredaria.

He located the Dark Iron teamsters who carried the shipment from Blackrock Mountain to Stone Cairn Lake. He destroyed the wagon and mounted the heads of the dwarves on stakes for the next team to find; hopefully they would get the message - this route was closed.

Guild Mission: Stand and Deliver, part IV

The fellow known as Stavros DarKoven (and who was actually a disguised Jon Chess) approached Jerod's Landing, located on the river which defined the southern border of the Elwynn Forest. He was alone, carrying a large burlap sack slung over his shoulder. 

As he approached the small wharf, he was challenged by a trio of dockworkers, who regularly patrolled the grounds.  They drew their blades, but before they could charge forward, Stavros called out.  "Ho there!  Tell the Dockmaster that Stavros DarKoven brings him some munitions for the Brotherhood!"

"Sid, go tell the Dockmaster.  Lenny and I will stay here, and keep Mister DarKoven company," said their leader.  The two dockworkers came forward to keep guard on Stavros while the third went to inform the Dockmaster he had a guest.

The Dockmaster of Jerod's Landing was a goblin, and a key member in the Defias Brotherhood/  He ran the shipping of contraband and supplies from the Elywnn Forest-based bands of the Defias to their bosses in Westfold.  Jon Chess, in the guise of Stavros DarKoven, had sold the Defias barrels of contraband cheese, establishing a rapport with the fellow.  The dockworker, a Defias thug, came back moments later and they escorted Stavros DarKoven to the shack which served as the Dockmaster's headquarters. 

"Stavros, my good friend!" oozed the goblin.  "My associates tell me that you have brought me some new toys!"  The goblin's eyes fairly glowed with greed. 

"Indeed I have, good sir, indeed I have!" said Stavros, opening his sack. "These little beauties are fresh off the Ashvane docks in Boralus - twelve Azerite explosive charges, a hundred or more times more powerful than gunpowder!" Jon tossed one in the air, watching the goblin flinch in fear - the Defias had heard of Azerite munitions.  "Don't worry, these are quite stable - and without their chemical blasting caps.  You get those when I get paid!"

The Dockmaster relaxed a little, having been assured he was not about to become an industrial "accident". "And how much do you want for each of them?" he asked DarKoven.

"Well, you know... they aren't easy to come by unless you have good relations with the Ashvane company, and even harder to smuggle into the Eastern Kingdoms," Stavros prefaced. "The Alliance would give their eyeteeth to confiscate these beauties!  Just one of them can send a warship to a watery grave!  They can be used to extort protection from merchant captains, destroy competitors.. the possibilities are endless!  Nothing and nobody would be safe from these little beasts! I was thinking, perhaps, a thousand gold?"

"A thousand gold for all of them?" clarified the Dockmaster.

"A thousand good per explosive!" 

"PER EXPLOSIVE?" shouted the Dockmaster. "What, you think we shit gold?  We can't afford that much!  Every copper penny we get goes to arming our forces, with which to take back Westfall and Elwynn!  We fight to free the common folk fr4om the yoke of the oppression of the nobility!  Surely, you would not deprive us of such a powerful tool of liberation just for the lack of a few measly gold coins?  Why, even 100 gold per explosive would be exorbitant..."

"Penurious wretch!  100 gold each would not even cover the costs of the transport, let alone the bribes - bribes to the Scrimshaw Gang for adjusting the Ashvane inventory manifest, bribes to the ship captain for letting me bring these delightful eggs fo destruction on ship, bribes for the Port Authority to not look at my 'sack of personal goods' too closely... I would be depriving my children, my wife, and my saintly grandmother of food for anything less than 500 per device!" 

"You might as well cut my throat now," demanded the Dockmaster, "for that is surely what would happen, if I allowed myself to agree to such an amount! My life would not be safe, not even if I were to offer 250 gold for each device, but perhaps my superiors would settle for only beating me!"

"250?  No wonder you Defias are called bandits!  Now you would rob me, who only sought to enhance the power and prestige of the Brotherhood.  I guess then I must sell these to persons of lesser scruple, like the Bloodsail Buccaneers..  But such a trip would tire me - if you could come to 300 gold per device, I could head straight back to Kul Tiras, and not bother?"  

"250 for these, and 350 for any more you can send our way? " the Dockmaster offered, knowing that he would be able to skim at least 50 gold for himself and report higher price for the bombs.

"Well, perhaps... but perhaps you can help me with another matter.  I need some top-quality blades, preferably with matching daggers for some interested parties in Freehold... If you can give me some samples to show them, we could set up a pipeline, and the profit would line the Brotherhood's coffers?"  Stavros offered, doubting that the Dockmaster would ever report the additional income, and cover the shipping invoices to reflect the missing weapons as shipping shortfalls - after all, the Defias Brotherhood were thieves and bandits, after all.  Surely a few missing weapons were not unusual.

The Dockmaster's eyes filled with greed. "Yes, done!  Come back in two days, and I will have some samples to show you!".

"Done! I will see you in two days - and I will bring the blasting caps, and you will bring the gold?"

"Of course, of course... I will even waive the usual carrying charges!" offered the Dockmaster with faux generosity.

"Yes, yes... you are too kind!"  Stavors bade the Dockmaster farewell and returned to Goldshire.

Once in Goldshire, he went the Red Lion Inn and rented a room for the night, staying in it just long enough to change from the red-and-gold leathers of Stavros DarKoven, and into the deep blue night-stalking leathers of the Rook.  Jon slipped out of his second-floor window, and into the night, crossing to the Darkshire shore, and took up a watching position opposite the Jerod's Landing docks.  He had brought provisions - wine and hard cheese - and took up position to watch the docks.

Two days passed excruciatingly slowly, but eventually, Jon's patience was rewarded when a large barge showed up, laden with wooden crates.  He watched as the Dockmaster oversaw their unloading onto the docks, to await pickup.  

That night, Stavros returned to Jerod's Landing, where we was welcomed by the Dockmaster. 

"Welcome back, Master DarKoven!  Have you brought the chemical explosive caps to arm the bombs?" asked the goblin.

"Of course not..." answered Stavros, grinning widely. "Show me the blades and then you can send a man back with me, carrying my gold, and then I will send him back with the explosive caps!"

"Why, Stavros, I am hurt!  Clearly, you do not trust me!" said the goblin, smiling. "You would think that you have known me all your life!" The goblin went to a side table, and unwrapped a cloth bundle, containing three sets of sword and dagger pairs.  The scabbards were plain dark brown leather, and the swords were black iron, rust-proof.  The forte of each blade and dagger bore the makers sigil-mark of the Shadowforge City armory; the blades had been contained by that city's Dark Rion armorers.

Stavros chuckled. "These are excellent!  I will take these and show them to the buyer in Freeport!  Well done!"   The goblin sent a dockworker back with Stavros to the Red Lion Inn, where the exchanged gold for the chemical blasting caps. No sooner had they left when Stavros went to his room, and the Rook left by the window, once more taking up his observation post.