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.