Confessions in Boralus

(Written with the players of Tarvasha and Thes'salia, with gratitude! This takes place before both "Forging A New Path" and "The Mage Tower" but was delayed because of the nature of collaborations.)

Jon Chess, private detective and renowned Agent of Cheese entered the newly-opened Lost Hearts Cafe ((Which is based, in-game, in Goldman's' Cafe)) in the district of Boralus called Upton Borough, home to haughty nobles and the wealthy elite of Kul’tiran society.

Upton Borough

He paused just inside the entryway, letting the redolent scents of ground coffee and sweet pastries pleasantly wash over him.  The proprietor, a lovely woman named Tarvasha, greeted him. Tarvasha was an attractive human woman with long auburn hair, and she smiled when she saw Jon.

Jon and Tarvasha had been acquainted since their meeting at Stilettos, a now-defunct "gentleman's club" in the Elwynn Forest near Stormwind.  Jon had enjoyed watching her dance and had followed her as her employment and circumstances had changed.  She had recently opened the doors to the Lost Hearts Cafe, and Jon was intent on supporting her in her new business; while not precisely "on the way" from his apartment above the Scribes and Nobles bookshop in the Hook Point district to his de facto "office" in the Curious Octopus Tavern in the Mariner's Row district, but she deserved his patronage and support.

"Good morning, Tar!" Jon said, smiling in what he thought was a charming manner. "Everything ready?"  Jon had arranged for a private parlor so that he could meet with his confessor, the Ren'dorei priest named Thes'salia Dharkgrove.  It had been some time since Jon's last confession, but Boralus did not yet have a church dedicated to the worship of the Light.

Thes'salia was slightly shorter than most Ren'dorei, with bright purple hair with its streaks of platinum blond, a remnant of her former existence as a Sin'dorei. Tendrils of the Void sometimes rested upon her shoulders. She had te toned, supple body of a dancer, and full, high breasts that seemingly defied gravity.  Jon knew she had a penchant for feminine, frilly lingerie, and always wondered what was worn under her priestly robes.

Tarvasha nodded and led Jon to the parlor.  It was a comfortable room, with a small table and set of chairs.  A carafe of coffee and Suramar Spiced Tea had been prepared, and there was a plate of small pastries and cookies, freshly baked. Jon paid Tarvasha, and both of them returned to the entrance.  Jon ordered some coffee, doctored it with cream, and sat to await Thes'salia.  When she arrived, he led her upstairs to the parlor, ushering her inside.

Thes'salia Darkgrove

Without further ado, Thes'salia invoked the Rite of Absolution, and they became surrounded by a sound-proof ward. Within the confines, anything could be said, at any volume, and nobody outside would hear a thing.  She finished the ritual and sat on the wooden chair behind Jon. "Blessed be the Light. Who comes forth to unburden himself and seek clarity of mind, and the comfort of forgiveness?"

Jon smiled at the formality, even while appreciating the appropriateness of it. "My name is Jonathan Chess," he replied.

 "About what may I help you to unburden yourself?" she asked.

Jon sat down on the chair, facing away from Thessalia; he had no desire to see her reactions to his recitation fo sins and faults. "Recently, my fiance, a Ren'doei woman named Zane Grimsky, faked her own death on a mission, letting me think she was dead.  The illusion of her demise didn't last long, but it hurt me deeply - first, the pain of having sent her on a mission that led to her death compounded the feelings of loss, with the additional anguish of having been the one who sent her to her death,  Shortly thereafter, I found that she had faked her death and run to escape an old enemy from her past and that she had let me think her dead to somehow keep me safe... Either way, the pain and loss has filled me with despair and anger. I feel like I am angry, seethingly furious, all the time."

Thes'salia listened to him hearing the way his voice sounded both hurt and angry all at the same time. She refilled his tea, walking around to face him, pulling an ottoman towards him as she handed him the drink. Taking a seat on the backless chair as she then smoothed out her robes while composing her thoughts on the matter folding her hands in her lap she gave him a compassionate look. "That certainly is quite an issue. It seems the foundations of your relationship might be upon unstable ground. I mean there was the reason for protecting you from an old enemy of hers, that is quite a caring gesture on her part. Though you, yourself are a witty and most cunning of shadow walkers, who might have been able to end them quite easily."

Jon smiled weakly, looking up at Thess from his downcast head.  "Holy One," he said, formally, "You are amazingly tactful, but let us not mince words - I am a very effective assassin for the Alliance.  I understand the intent of her misleading me - but Fel-be-damned,  am also insulted.  I have devised and executed very effective plans against Horde spell-casters - and that is what this renegade is, at the end of the day - a jumped up Sin'dorei with delusions of superiority.  Do you have any idea how many of those I've put in the ground, personally?" The anger started boiling up, hot and violent, but carefully controlled - Jon was a professional, after all.

Thess gently placed a hand on his looking to him as she listened to him.  She nodded as he spoke; she knew his mind was as sharp as the daggers he wielded. She knew that he was also as agile as the very panthers of Stranglethorn Vale. Hearing this anger in his voice was certainly new to her since she had only known the charming and witty Jon as of recently.

"I am certain you've placed many of my kin in the ground and they probably deserved it since they managed to find their way on to your list of ones to be taken care of. She certainly should have come to you with this issue of an old enemy who had come back from the Abyss. You both could have strategized quite the plan to end him rather quickly." Thess leaned in, smiling. "I do hope you don't mind, but I will be borrowing that description you so eloquently put."

Jon looked a little shamefaced as he remembered that the Ren'dorei were, for the most part, former Sin'dorei. "Oh, feel free to steal anything I say - it's not like I ever expect them back..." he said, smiling with what he hoped was a disarming grin.  "I  apologize,  I didn't mean to go on and on about it... I just wanted to explain to you why I feel so angry, but that is not my confession."  Jon frowned, getting to the blunt truth of the matter. "My sin was... well, the other day I mistreated a woman because of my anger, taking her without any tenderness, without any feelings of affection, just... took her.  I used her mouth with less regard I would show a courtesan... I fucked her mouth and throat like a cunt, and then stripped her of her clothes and make her orgasm relentlessly, spreading her wide and fisting her until she came repeatedly, until she collapsed from exhaustion.  Then I pulled out of her mouth and spent my seed on her face and breasts."

"I treated her horribly, and the worst part... is that she thoroughly enjoyed it, it was like her tonsils had a direct line to her clitoris. She spent herself when I called her my cumslut whore; it was like such behavior set her on fire, even as I was mortified that I could mistreat her so".

Her jaw dropped hearing him describing what he had done to a woman, even though she had heard many a varied combination of things done while lost in the realm of passion and desire. She licked her lips, leaning over to pour herself a glass of water.  She took a deep sip and cleared her throat a little. "Well, there is the thing with that, Jon. It might have been her fantasy to be such and you were providing her a release just as you were receiving a release as well. Was that act consensual? If so then they wanted you to gain as much pleasure from them as they were gaining from you." She then gently patted his hand looking to him. "We all have desires and itches that yearn to be taken care of, you shouldn't feel bad for yours."

Jon looked at her with mingled horror and gratitude. "Well, yes... of course.  Clearly, she was enjoying herself - thank the Light!"  Jon grinned at the thought of thanking the Light that his potential victim had enjoyed... had craved being treated that way.  "But I cannot help wondering, asking myself whether or not I would have acted any differently if she hadn't. Jon looked away, blushing from shame.  Once upon a time, he had done similar things upon request to bed partners - but only when they had made it clear that they had wanted him to.  He had been able, in the past, to blame his other identity, "the Rook" for those urges he had so callously satisfied, but now he had nobody but himself to blame.

"Jon, the light can be found in even the darkest of places." Placing the glass of water down beside her on the floor she rested her hands down upon the sides of the ottoman, she then turned his head to face hers looking into his eyes. She sensed his shame in what he had just verbally wondered shaking her head. "I am certain you would have acted honorably Jon if she hadn't wanted you to treat her as such. I don't believe you are that cruel to take pleasure from one who might say no."

"That is nice of you to say... but we'll never be able to be sure, can we?" Jon said, sounding sad and disappointed in himself.  "Fortunately for me, that is the worst of it... although I did... ah... indulge in a bit of the Sin'dorei art of Shibari last night... the things one finds oneself learning so as to be able to fit in while disguised in Silvermoon."  Jon chuckled.  "Not sure that rises to the level of needing absolution, though..." Jon grinned, remembering the delighted surprise on the face of his Ren'dorei partner when he had used Shal'dorei Silk rope to make a diamond harness.

((I really want to go into detail of how to tie up a lover in a diamond rope harness dress, suitable for wearing all day under clothes, but I need to consult my notes at home.  Finding opportunities to practice are a bitch to find./ Note to self - try and locate a rope bunny for practice))

"Well absolution is universal, darling. I can take your vice usage into account in my many prayers for you." She laughed softly thinking on how many she had consulted who had addictions to various vices in her time at the Sunwell. Some she had managed to guide in recovery, some... not. She sighed a little, thinking of the ones she had lost. They were also among the many of her prayers when she visited the monastery these days.

"I will spare you the recitations of mission-related killing, as we already know what I do for a living, and for whom..." Jon said.  "And I am happy - and a little surprised - that I have only killed 37 people for personal reasons, since my last confession.  And most of those were self-defense... I have interaction with Scrimshaw Gang members on a regular basis, it seems." Jon refrained from mentioning how many of those "incidents" Jon had provoked into them becoming "self-defense".(

"That is quite impressive, in that it's rather lower than expected. I suppose, given the season, the need for work might be a bit low these days. But you are free to discuss the details if you wish." Thess then leaned back to him resting her elbows on her knees picking up her glass again taking a slow sip while looking to him "I am always interested in your line of work be it your cheese dealings or those of more hidden circumstances." (

"Oh, well... cheese dealings are boring, really... and some of the other things I may not talk about, like client cases," Jon said, embarrassed by Thessalia's interest. "Some things are not my secret to tell."

Thess nodded though she was rather surprised to see him appear embarrassed by her wish to learn more of his work. She considered his absolution carefully as she bit her lower lip glancing at her bookshelf as an idea began to form in her mind. "Two things before giving you what you must do to cleanse your soul; first, I asked for details cause really I don't get all that many interesting people coming in for confession these days. The biggest crime I've gotten has been some farmer stealing his neighbor's seed harvest for their own needs." She shrugged laughing softly at that crime. "Secondly. how long were you and this woman losing yourselves to the bliss of pleasure?"

"Well, then I will have to start asking you out for coffee outside of confession, and tell you stories," Jon said with a smile.  "I just had never thought to... impose upon your time and patience." Jon blushed a little before answering the second question. "I was not checking time, but I want to say somewhere on the order of three hours, give or take? Once I got into it... I didn't really worry about my own satisfaction, or rather I took emotional satisfaction from proving that it was not my performance as a love that drove my ex-girlfriends away."  Jon laughed.  "I used to think it was the Rook that drove them away, but now that he and I are... integrated... I guess I have nothing and nobody to blame for my failed relationships except my won personality."

"Alright... so thirty-seven kills and three hours of carnal bliss," Thess smirked looking to him as she thought more on his absolution, the smirk on her face turned almost into a Cheshire Cat-like grin as she laughed softly. "Well, I think you might be spending a month and seven days or nights aiding the priests in the Cathedral mending the wounds of those injured. I'm more than certain a man of your immense knowledge and skill knows how to mend injuries. For the cardinal bliss three nights reading bedtime stories to children in the Stormwind Orphanage."

Jon smiled.  "Thes'salia, I am certified as an Alliance Trauma Medic, trained in Theramore.  And I already read stories to the orphans in Stormwind a few times a month as it is!"  Jon grinned.  "Its a shame I have not been able to bank things against future sins!" 

The Mage's Tower

((Co-written with Alia Atherton's player, with gratitude.  Any mistakes are mine alone!))

The fellow named Jon Chess looked up at the tower in the Elwynn Forest, ostensibly the home of his friend Alia.  Alia had attuned Jon's communications amulet to hers, ensuring that he didn't get lost.  The tower was similar to other mage towers he had seen in the past in Theramore and elsewhere - several stories tall, with a long winding staircase on the inside of thick stone walls. Jon had been to enough towers to be wary when approaching; some of them had nasty surprises for those who had mayhem in their hearts; something, on this occasion, of which Chess was innocent.

For a change.

He saw no signs of occupancy, but that was not necessarily unusual for mage towers; they had a tendency towards privacy that made Jon's own precautions look like the play of a child.  Jon walked up to the front door and knocked loudly.

There was no answer for some time, then the creak of old metal from above. A young woman, whose appearance looked more akin to a banshee then anything remotely similar to Alia Atherton, stared tiredly down at him.

“Jon Chess? I-I’ll be right down!”

Alia Atherton

The window slammed shut, and a moment later the door opened for the towers winded mistress. “I see you finally decided to take me up on my offer. Please come in, I have coffee started and- OH! Watch how you step. I’d prefer not to be skinned alive by all the women in the city as a result of my hand in your demise.” She winked sly over her shoulder and led him up the long stone spiral staircase to the main room.

As Jon thought, the inside of the doorway was lined with runes that hummed with magic.

Spacious though it seemed on the outside, the interior was quite cozy. Dark wood bookshelves, cubbies, and cabinets lined the walls. Books, scrolls, and random notes filled them with an authoritarian level or organization. Tables and desks covered in typical home goods, a fireplace with a kettle, a book that floated in the center of the room without assistance, with candles and loose pages floating aimlessly around them; all of it came together as a tapestry of arcane mystery and homemade warmth.

"The only women who might regret my passing are those women who haven't met me yet; once they get to know me, I become more invisible to them than a Grand Master of the Shadows..." Jon chuckled bitterly, carefully watching his step nonetheless.  He looked around at the homey decor. "Your home looks most comfortable - although I admit that my tastes tend towards books, books, and more books. Of course, yours are scholarly monographs and the like, whereas my books are... fiction of a dubious nature."

An exasperated sigh as she cleaned up a table. A large piece of wood covered in strings connecting maps, notes, and pictures was propped up in front of the window it faced, "And what am I? Chopped liver? Stop selling yourself short Jon Chess." She laughed, "And what gave you the idea that I don't have books of dubious nature as well?" Alia grinned, making direct eye contact with Jon, "Who is to say I don't love myself a tale about torrid romances and well-placed metaphors from time to time?"

"No, I don't think so... I always imagine you bent over a folio or tome, reading crabbed foreign scripts by candlelight, making obscure notes on a properly-ruled parchment, with a cup of stone-cold, neglected coffee at hand," Jon said.  "If I could posit that you have literary tastes as smutty and lowbrow as my own, I'd want to make you dinner and read to you all night."

The corners of her smile fell, and Alia stood there frozen, eyeing him up and down with a mixed expression. Clearly, something he said started her gears turning. She opened her mouth to speak but seemed to think better of it. She turned her back to him, busying herself with the finishing touches of coffee making.

“Tell me, what have I, or more likely haven’t done, to earn this audience with you?” She continues, ”Every time we run into each other, you always seem to be busy with some other task. I’m not the subject of a case, am I?” She laughed softly to herself. “I make it a point to return Ms.Whisperleafs book on time, to the hour, you know.”

Jon pondered her words for a moment and then spoke with an uncharacteristic honesty and candor. "Alia, I am not sure what you think is going on with me, but you are not the focus of a plot, conspiracy, or campaign.  I have recently been very... damaged, emotionally.  I find you attractive, not only because you are lovely - you are - but also because you and I have kept running into each other, but not by any design of mine.  I frequent bookstores because there are some subjects in which I have a scholarly interest and because I love reading stories.  I chanced upon that encounter with the incompetent footpads, and rather than follow my first, rather violent reactions I instead tried to help without anyone being defenestrated.  You are sharp-witted and smarter than I am, and I like you.  I am not courting you, per se, but think that kissing you might be quite a pleasurable thing, and the start, perhaps, of something more; I am wary of making assumptions about both how my attention might be perceived by you, and a lot of doubt as to how welcome they might be, so I am going slow, trying to get to learn more about you, and ... yeah, I'm out of words.  I do not often show it, but my brash outward forwardness is a masque hiding an insecure street rat who has no business aspiring to more. Madame Whisperleaf is a sometimes-client, but I am not part of some 'goon squad' whose purpose is to beat up patrons late on their book rentals!"

The clatter of a spoon falling to the floor broke the long silence that followed. Alia spun on her heel to face him directly; She had bitten down on her bottom lip hard, and eyes were wider than anything Jon had ever seen from her. Like a fish gasping, she struggled for breath and words both. ” Jon... I- I...wish... I wish you would have said something sooner.” She laughed nervously, her eyes tearing up even as a brilliant smile overtook her. “I was convinced.... tha- that you knew, and were just.... stringing me along!”

With a great deal of caution, she stepped towards him,” Jon Chess, you have been an enigma that has plagued my waking mind for too long. You command attention and respect when you speak, but your words are never harsh or demanding. I have never met a mind that is as hungry for a good story until you, and the light in your eyes when I gave you those books was one of the most beautiful things, other then perhaps the idea you kissing me, which I have spent a great deal of effort trying to bury because I did not want you to think I was a silly little girl playing at being-“ She took a deep breath, shaking a little,” My point is, I happen to like this particular street rat, and I think if he’d listened to me for just a damned minute, he might see that he absolutely has the business of wanting more....”

Now very much face to face, she stared down at his shoes, a red blush spreading to the tips of her ears.  “And good! It’d be a waste of your incredible talents!”

Jon stepped the rest of the way towards Alia and leaned within inches of her.  "You should be wary of giving me too much encouragement, Alia - you might never be able to get  rid of me."   Something of his usual self-confidence seemed to return, but he had learned long ago that when hoping for a kiss, a first kiss, to go close, but let your partner finish the movement; that kisses were best done as a duet.  Jon began as he meant to go on - slowly and gently, so as to not unsettle Alia... too much, in any case.

The sound of his voice brought her back the moment.

“Unfortunately I have a knack for not knowing when to stop...”

She met him halfway, hesitating, cautious, if not fearful at first, but growing in confidence as her lips pressed against his. Her fingers brushing his as they reached out for his hand.

Jon felt her lips press against his, and he smiled.  The kiss was not overly long in duration, nor was it exceptionally passionate; this was a reconnaissance mission of sorts, not a full-fledged battle.  Jon felt her fingers brush his hand, and he took the questing fingers gently in his own.  Jon pulled back a little, amazed that either fire nor ice nor arcane bolt been launched - and yet, he felt an impact as welcome as it was delicious.  Conflagrations could spring from a single such a beginning.

Alia held onto his hand even as he pulled back, giving it a small reassuring squeeze. Giving him space, she led his hand to her lips, kissing his palm in the same manner he had once kissed hers.

“I... could get used to that. Unless of course, that was entirely the worst kiss you’ve ever had, in which case I’ll have to ask you to use one of those knives on me because I will not be able to live with the embarrassment.” She rambled almost incoherently, her grip getting tighter the longer she went on.

Jon used her held hand to draw her close once more so he could kiss her again.  He captured her lips with his, still gentle, but with a more controlled passion behind it.   His right hand in hers, his other hand snaked around her waist, pulling her gently to him.  His lips parted slightly, and he enjoyed the subtle taste of her lips as he sought to both calm her and ignite her.

Catching her mid-sentence, she had no way to hold back the small moan that escaped her lips as she was pulled, nor her free hand that slid across his body to cradle the back of his neck. “Jon I-“

She pushed him back, though still very much in his embrace so she could look into his eyes,” Jon I need to know.... and don’t take this the wrong way, but am I the only one your... ‘trying things” out with?” The hand on his neck made its way to his cheek, her thumb caressing it absentmindedly.

Jon grinned, pleased that she was not one to play games and would instead ask forthrightly as to what she wanted to know.  "At the moment, I have no regular lovers, and aside from my auction date with Cassiela, have no plans to date any other while we pursue ...possibilities." Jon gave a little sigh, forcing himself to be very honest - which did not come naturally to a spy and assassin.  "I am not always forthcoming and honest - I have lived too long in the greys of twilight for that.  But I will tell you something that nobody else knows... I have a connection, of sorts, with the Power called Aviana; I think she's kind of adopted me as a mascot since my working name is Rook.  I would not dare to swear by her falsely; while I will never intend to mislead you were our relationship is concerned, if you ever have doubts, make me swear by Her."

Though she said nothing, Alia’s eyes did her speaking for her; They smiled at his honesty, hinted at jealousy, and finally lit up as they so often do when her lust for knowledge is ignited,”Aviana? THE Aviana? Highfather’s wisdom Jon! Now that’s a story you have to tell me.... but perhaps another time?” With an almost predatory grin, she leaned into him, leaving wisps of kisses along his jaw, and down his neck before coming easing off. “We can’t waste all of our stories in one night.”

"No indeed!" agreed Jon, "but before you make me forget all about my reason for coming here... well, my overt one, anyways... I wanted to ask you what kind of dinner you would like me to make you tonight?"  Jon grinned, repressing vocalization of his thought that she herself would make a fine thing to feast upon. "Slowly, Jon...do not even think of rushing things with this one.  She matters" he thought to himself.

She muttered softly under her breath, letting go of him and crossing her arms in front of her chest,” My answer depends on where this dinner is? Because I will warn you, I have...very little here.”

"We may eat wherever like - picnic style, perhaps.  I can show you my meditation spot, for example.  I will cook at Phred's house in Dalaran, and then take it wherever would suit you," Jon half-planned logistics while he was talking.

“As long as it’s not conjured, I will follow you and your food to the ends of Azeroth.” She laughed, more to herself than anything else, and in a blink of an eye was on the other side of the room, pulling down a cord that activated a fold away staircase, and back in front of him before he could lift a finger.  “I want to see where the incredible Jon Chess finds his solace, now that he has seen where the moronic Magna finds hers.” Her eyes flickered with violet energy when she returned. “I imagine it’s very close to a cheese shop.”

"What, Phred's? It's near the Violet Citadel, actually - she loves the libraries at the Kirin Tor.  But she values food, so she has a well-appointed kitchen so she can have me make her lunch when I need a consultation."  Jon laughed.  "I have all the cheese I need. ...is Magna a name or a title?" he asked, his well-developed curiosity getting the better of him.

“You? Enough cheese? Well, I never!” She laughed right alongside him,“...it’s... it’s a title. Magna, or Magus, depending on gender, is the title bestowed on a mage who has proven themselves to be of suitable skill. Thinking about it as a ladder, it’s considered a rung or two below an Archmage. It just means that the Kirin Tor accept me as one of their own. Well, it used to anyway...” she explained in a monotone voice, like reading it from a book.

"Not in their good graces?  I thought that 'Magna' was Old Arathor for 'The Great'?  And the Kirin Tor has their uses - I just won't work for them."

“I believe at one point it was, but it got repurposed during the days of the first Alliance or something like tha— and it’s more complicated than that. I’m not sure if... you’d understand me. No that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. Forgive me.”

Jon looks at her quizzically. "The minute you offend me, I will forgive you - but you haven't managed it yet!"  Jon grinned.  "I know that I am not the sharpest blade in the armory.  Just curious and stubborn... although that can have an edge all its own."

Alia just sighed, though her smile had regained its warmth.

Light, Void, and Nether, this man will be the death of me...a wonderful, joyful death. But still death.

Forging a New Path

((written with Zinnaella's player, with gratitude)

A folded note was pinned to a notice board in the Curious Octopus. Elegant script formed one word upon its surface. 'CHESS'.

The fellow known by many as Jon Chess entered the Curious Octopus tavern o Boralus, and saw the note. Chuckling, he mumbling "That would be for me..." as he took down the note and unfolds it so he might read it.

The note was simply the drawing he'd done of the back of a woman's head at the performance near the Cathedral Gazebo in Stormwind.  The lady had sat on the bench in front of Chess as he had sketched, and he had left it for her - a sketch of the back of her head. In the corner, where an artist normally signs their work, was that same elegant script. 'BRING COFFEE TO TINY HOUSE IN THE BLACKWALD. GILNEAS.' It was simply signed with a Z.

Jon grinned.  Time to take a trip to Gilneas!

It was still dark, that time between when the glow of the coming of day lightened the sky before the actual sun crested the horizon.  The fellow known as Jon Chess summoned his Shadow Raven and flew north to the Great Sea.  He flew aerobatic tricks on his way to the rocky, treacherous Gilnean coast.  Gilneas had, in ancient days, been settled by Kul Tiras colonists, who had, over decades, carved their own homeland out of the wilds of South Lordaeron, eventually establishing themselves as much more than a colony, but the Kingdom of Gilneas. Jon landed in Stormglen, and dismissed his raven, making his way to the Blackwald Forest on foot.  Jon kept to the Shadows by reflex and instinct; there were threats in the region, threats that had flourished since the assault by the Forsaken and the coming of the Affliction.

Jon was only aware of one cottage still standing in the Blackwald.  Seeing no signs of residence, he sat down to wait.

The area around the cottage was strung with bells of various types. Cowbells, brass bells, small silver bells with their tiny tinkling rings. Even the roof of the cottage was covered in them as well as what appeared to be sharp shards of broken glass. The chimney occasionally gave a puff of smoke, strange behavior but it appeared harmless. From outside, he could see her moving around through the open door. She appeared to be sweeping...or dancing?

Jon watched through the window, taking care to be unseen, wishing to enjoy watching her dance... or sweep.

From behind him came a soft growl, though it sounded more like the creaking of tree branches.  Tiny footfalls to his left sounded like the crunching of autumn leaves. The sounds grew no closer, but he knew eyes were upon him.

Jon went to the front door and knocked.

The occupant fo the house spun around,  brandishing the broom like a weapon.  "Who's there!? What do you want?!"

"Coffee delivery!" called out Chess cheerfully.

"Coffee? I didn't order any....ahhhh." Realization hits her as she focuses on the fellow at the door. A smile curls her lips and lowers the broom. "Mister Chess. I didn't expect my, um, delivery to be so soon. Please, come in."

"I was taught never to keep a lady waiting," quipped Chess.  "And it is even more unforgivable when it is coffee for which you keep her waiting!"

"Yes, cold coffee is unforgivable." Quickly, she clears the small table of various bottles, clay pots, and dried herbs, depositing the armful on a small counter. A dish towel is quickly plucked from her waistband and she dusts off a chair at the table. "Please, won't you have a seat?"

Jon put the coffee on the table and took a seat as indicated. "I apologize for having to rush off the other night, but a friend was in peril.  Do you get to Stormwind often?" asked Jon.

She dug around on her counter looking for two relatively clean mugs, wiping them out with her dish towel. "Oh, that's alright. If a friend is in need, that takes precedence. As to whether or not I get into Stormwind often?  No, I don't."

Fishing around for her coffee press, she 'Ah ha's' when it was discovered, having found it's way to the back of the cabinet. The cofee press and mugs were carried to the table and set down. "I hope you like your coffee black, I've no cream. I do have sugar though." A generous amount of the coffee was poured into the press and she smiles at the aroma of the freshly ground beans. She hustled to the hearth and retrieved the tea kettle. Hot water was poured into the press and the little machine was reassembled. She let the coffee steep for a little bit, looking at Mister Chess.

"I usually drink tea, but I like my coffee like my soul - dark and bitter," Jon said.

"I have tea if you would rather have that." She pressed down on the top of the contraption, squeezing the grounds to its bottom.

"Nah, this is good enough - I brought the good stuff, not Kul Tiran 'Sailor's Choice' or that crappy Miner's Coffee they serve in Draenor," Jon said, smiling.

"I doubt my pallet would be able to tell the difference honestly." Lifting the press, she pours coffee into the two waiting mugs.

Jon paused, and thought the better of offering to help her train her pallet. "I was happy to get your note - I was wracking my brain, trying to figure out how to find you again.  It seemed important that I find you, somehow..."

Lifting the mug to her lips, she took a sip of the brew. "Eh, not bad." Looking at him, she quirks a brow. "Oh? Why would it be important to find me?"

"I have no idea - but I felt that it was imperative, and not because you are remarkably lovely."

Sitting down on the tiny stool across from him, she fixed him with a stare. "How often does your honeyed tongue catch the little bees wonder?" It was clear that the flattery might not work on her.

"Often enough that it pays to keep in practice, but any person who cannot tell the difference between idle flattery and honest appreciation is a fool, and not worth the time to charm," Jon replied. "And I do find you remarkably lovely - should I not say so?"

"I've not been told that since my husband passed away. So, forgive me my hesitation in believing it as truth."  She sipped at her coffee.

"I am sorry for your loss," Jon said, not unkindly.  "So, if I may be so tactless as to ask, why did you ask me to visit?  Surely not as your own personal delivery boy?"  Jon smiled.  "Although I've traveled further for less..."

Setting her coffee down, she pulled a silver locket from around her neck. She held it out to him, her eyes watching it sway.  "I was impressed by your artistry and I wanted to know if you could possibly fix this."  Inside was the tiny portrait of a freckle-faced, green-eyed,  brown-haired girl of maybe 7 or 8  years old.

"What is wrong with it?" Jon asked, looking for a defect.

The portrait was faded, near invisible.  "I want her to be... vibrant again. I want to open it up and gaze upon her face like she were still here." Her eyes dropped. "Every artist I've taken it too has said that it is too tiny to fix. The original artist is... no longer with us."

"I..." Jon hesitated, and then continued. "I guess trying will not do any harm.  May I take this with me?  Or perhaps, given it's importance to you, you might like me to work here?" asked Jon.  Clearly, the portrait miniature held special meaning for the lady, and Jon hated to disappoint anyone.

Fingers tapped on the tabletop as she debated. "I... I suppose you could take it. If it makes you feel  more at ease to work where you are comfortable." It was her most prized possession, but if she could get it restored she supposed she could part with it for a time.

Jon shrugged.  "Miss... and what should I call you, by the way? I am just as happy to bring my tools and paints here.  What I intend on doing is copying the original, but with - hopefully - revitalized colors and vitality.  There is no reason to risk damage to the original, after all."  What Jon did not say is that his hostess had inadvertently picked one of the best kind of artists for the task at hand; while Jon sketched for pleasure, and partially to keep his skills fresh for when he had to create likenesses for clients for missing person cases. He had attended a much more rigorous art curriculum than most - he had been trained by the best forgers in Ravenholdt, working to create stamp dies for creating counterfeit coinage.  He had never painted on such a tiny scale before, but he already had the magnifying glasses, white-light lanterns, and miniature tools for the job.

"Zinnaella. You may call me Zinn." She looked at him and nodded. "If you would like to work here, that would be fine. I can clean you a space to work." She gave a soft sigh, relieved that he wouldn't be taking the locket away. She'd gone through too much to get it back.  "Thank you Mister Chess. How much will this cost me? I imagine that such delicate work cannot be cheap."

"... Madame, I will be frank - I had not thought to charge, but rather to reward myself with the challenge and the potential delight in your smile should I succeed.  iI I am to work here, perhaps there are other supplies from Stormwind, Boralus, or Dalaran I might bring you since I will be coming every day until my task is complete?  Do you like cheese, perhaps?"  The remoteness of the cottage must make the acquisition of such items difficult.

She raised a slender brow at him.  "No charge? No, there must be a charge. Paints do cost coin and I am willing to pay to keep your supplies full." She relaxes onto the stool a bit.  "I don't currently need any supplies.  I do like cheese, but my lack of the ability to keep things cold keeps me from having it unless I go  to Stormwind."

Jon chuckled.  "Then perhaps I might bring you fresh cheese to delight your palate every day?  Some men might bring flowers, but I... I am an Agent of Cheese," he proclaimed proudly. "Oh, and do you not have an icebox?  The Kirin Tor can enchant them to not have to use ice; my friend Phredaria specializes in Cold magics, and I am sure she'd be happy to help!""And how about this?  If I need to purchase additional paints, I will submit an expense report?  I do that all the time for my other clients' but painting in miniature should not take much above what I already own; I often mix my paints and inks freshy from herbs, ground earths, and other materials. But where there is expense, I will allow you to reimburse me upon approval of the expense report?" Jon offered, not mentioning that if he needed supplemental supplies, he was more likely to steal them from wealthy patrons rather than buy them for a cash outlay.

"I do not have an icebox. I don't think I'd have room for it in here."  She looked around the tiny cottage. Everything was in one room. In one corner, she'd put a privacy screen that served as a wall to a makeshift bedroom.  Then there was the hearth that contained a massive cook pot and the short countertop with one upper cupboard and two lower cabinets. The counter was full of....things; bowls of various sizes, dried herbs, plates, and kitchen tools, several different sizes of mortar and pestles as well as bottles of liquids of all shapes, sizes, and colors, and jars upon jars of...best he didn't know what some of the jars contained. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason as to where things were placed. "I agree to the payment of charges on the expense reports."

"On your approval of the expense reports," Jon corrected.  he had seen unscrupulous merchants pad expense accounts before.  "When would you like me to start?"

"Yes, my approval." She nodded her head a bit. "When can you start?"

"I can start tomorrow... I will fly in my equipment and supplies later today if that suits you?"

"That would be fine. It gives me a chance to set up space for you. Is there anything, in particular, you need as far as space?" She thought perhaps a spot near the hearth so he'd be warm.

"No... I will bring some special lamps, and a small table to work upon," he thought, making a mental list.  "Daylight is not often enough for regular work, so I don't trust to caprice."

She nodded once again. "Alright. I'll tidy up the place.  I know it must look a sight. I do apologize."

"Well, a sight to cheer men's hearts, perhaps... but I will remember - 'no complements' while I am here," Jon grinned.  "I will be as sober as a judge - but not nearly as corrupt..." Jon replied, finishing his tea.  "I will leave you in peace now, and go pack!"  Jon got to his feet.

She also stands, extending her hand. "Thank you Mister Chess. I can't wait to see what wonders you will work on my Fawn."

"I will attempt to please you, Miss Zinnaella, although I do admit to a reservation about taking your commission..." he said, heading outside.

"after all, have you never heard the old aphorism - that "the wages of Zinn are death"?  Jon spoke a few sentences in a guttural, ugly tone, The air seemed to rip and tear, and a deep purple glow manifested and then resolved into a rather large Shadow Raven, which alighted near Jon.  Jon leaped into its back, waving to his client before guiding the creature back to Stormwind.

Moar Jon Chess Artwork!

This is done by one of my favorite and most-commissioned artists!

From the artist:

I am an artist with 30+ years of drawing experience. I love to do character art and comics. I also take commissions! If you are interested just ask to make sure slots are open at the time. Most my stuff is posted on my DA right now but I will be putting together other social media account in the future.
https://www.deviantart.com/aerismccain/

Arexzia (Aresia) Artwork

Aresia is Jon's friend and medic - her player commissioned a bust!

Arexzia

From her player:

The Lightforged female has a youthful appearance; is extremely fit physically with a medium muscular build,

Her face has the look of innocence and beauty that comes from serving the Light by serving others.

Arexzia became Lightforged at a young age and carries with her a youthful zeal to serve others from all walks of life.  Her motto is "I do not care what you are; it is who you are that matters".  She has been known to risk herself after a battle to treat the wounded of either side of the conflict;  she makes no apologies on how she goes about treating people.  She not one for rules that would limit her ability to serve.

Being young and in the military her whole existence, she is rather naïve about Azeroth's social customs and slang.

Background:

• Born on the Xenedar warship, at some point, her parents were declared dead, they were not discussed and no family was available to adopt her. She was cared for by the Chief Medical Officer Vindicator Haranaar and his (wife) Synakka, also a  Healer.  All attempts at finding out her parents background met with a stone wall of silence and once her (guardians) passed to the Light and the ship was destroyed, Arexzia closed that chapter in finding any family members.

• She started as orderly --> supply runner --> patient litter bearer --> field medic --> medic --> Paladin -->and finally a Lightforged being.  As a litter bearer, according to rumor, she was brought up on charges of neglect but no records exist of the proceedings.  Some members of the Army of Light are aware of what happened.
• As a young woman with no linage or dowry, and her smaller horns, Arexzia was the target of much ridicule by others of higher social standing.

She was tall, athletic though very lean, her body had not caught up to itself yet, worse she had been told she had her mother’s horns. Which normally could be a compliment, in this case, it seems, it was not, though symmetrical, her horns were rather small and curved inward towards her face, no full curl for her she thought.  But at least they were symmetrical she sighed, that had to account for something.  The women did compliment her on facial features though, she knew they were being polite, she could always catch them whispering their pity about her status and how she will be a strong soldier, a strong single soldier is what they would say if she was not within earshot

• Though her status was lower in some opinion, her unique perspective on the Light and serving others gifted her with strong powers as a young healer and was trained and endowed as a Paladin at a young age  (late teens/early 20s).  She served briefly as a Paladin in the Argus campaign and finally at the close of the Legion's defeat was selected and overcame the Forging ritual to be a harbinger of the Light.

• Her Forging and the end of the legion campaign has led to some unintended complications as she is young and now essentially immune to aging.  She has had no exposure to relationships, willfully bound to serve the Light but never experienced life outside the service of the Army or her Forging.  She has attempted relationships and all have ended in failure.

Jon Chess Artwork

His name is Chess.  Jon Chess.

From the marvelous Ayie Olaer!

https://www.facebook.com/AyieOlaer/

The Search for Korynna Starwind - Epilogue

((Many thanks for those who participated!  All of you are aces!))

Three strangers walked into the Medical Clinic of the Brotherhood of Valor, and found Arexzia.

"Good morning, Miss Arexzia" said the voice of Jon Chess, coming from the appearance of Stavros DarKoven, one of Jon's carefully crafted and maintained identities - in this instance, a slaver from Booty Bay.  "Miss Kaneka and I have a patient for a check-up before I release her to my client, Miss Whisperleaf of the bookstore The Turned Page in Stormwind."  Jon steps aside and lets Kaneka ((Who is still in disguise?)) bring in the nine-year-old newly-freed Kaldorei girl.

The Kaldorei girl stood a little over four feet tall, and had long dark blue hair.  Her skin was the color of lilacs, and her eyes shown like molten tin.  She had bruises all over her body, but appeared whole and undamaged except for some scars from the manacles she no longer wore.  She did, however, wear a clean slave tunic.

"This is Korynna Starwind - Kori" Jon-Stavros informed.

Arexzia shook her head slightly but with a knowing smile. "Of course, Stavros. The clinic is open all in need, when was the last time she was fed?"  Arexzia walked over to the nearby table and grabbed her medical kit and her morning fare of a sliced up fruit and a wedge of quiche. Sitting down next to Kori, the young Eredar offered her a sliced apple and cup of cold tea, laden with milk.

"Likely yesterday, or this morning... I didn't want to do anything until she'd been looked at" said Jon.  "You are literally our first stop."  Kaneka, aware of their destination, had teleported them all straight to the Brotherhood of Valor compound.

Arexzia nodded as the man known to some as Stavros explained the situation. She offered the food to Kori; watching her eat, her motor skills, and focus.  Kori looked up cautiously, not yet convinced that this was not some sort of trap, gingerly began to nibble at the sliced apple, eschewing the cold tea for now.

Arexzia grabbed some of her healing salves and rubbed the soothing, cool gel on the shackle marks of the ankles and wrists, and then to the worst of the bruises. Letting the child eat for a moment, she walked back into the clinic room to grab a soft damp cloth and a few toiletry items.  Sitting back down, Arexzia began to brush Kori's hair, and then gently cleaned The child's face and ears.  "Stavros, other than the beating this poor girl took, anything else I should be aware of?" Arexzia said, shooting him a significant look.

"No, I don't think so... the dwarf who beat her has been... chastised and will walk with a cane henceforth," Jon said, he voice deceptively calm.  Arexzia had known Jon for some time and recognized the tonal shift from her friend Jon Chess to the part of him that others called the Rook - a calculating, brutal, merciless assassin.  "The Dark Irons were only interested in her resale value."

Kaneka stood behind Jon as he and Arexzia spoke, still in her disguise. It was far from anything she would normally wear, but that was the point of a disguise, wasn't it?

Arexzia completed the examination, finding no outstanding issues other than the expected emotional trauma from her ordeal.  Jon spent the time removing the hair dye and returning to "Jon Chess", packing up the Stavros armor and props for return to his cache of disguises later.  Together, he and Kaneka and Kori teleported to Stormwind, to take Korynna Starwind to the Turned Page bookstore - hew new home.

The Search for Korynna Starwind, part III

(Written with Kaneka's player)

The man known to the Dark Iron dwarves of Shadowforge City as the slaver Stavros DarKovin walked into the Grim Guzzler tavern like he was an absentee owner. The fellow was of medium height and a solid, muscular build.  Thick, coarse black hair came down to mid-neck, giving him a somewhat shaggy appearance.  He wore stiff cuir bouilli leather armor, colored a deep crimson.  He wore a pair of daggers at his waist; thick steel an inch wide at the forte, and tapering almost not at all until curving sharply to a point.  Each edge was razor sharp. A black leather eyepatch covered his right eye.

Besides him walked a human woman clad in robes that indicated she was likely a mage, and an expression of barely restrained anger that screamed: "Please, somebody piss me off so I can immolate you and kick your ashes into small dust clouds."  Taking on a disguise, she was calling herself Lavoy Fyr. Using a little bit of a glamour spell, she'd changed her hair from its usual raven's wing black to a deep vibrant red that mimicked the lava floes around them. Her top was tight, appeared to be made of buttery soft black leather and barely contained her breasts. Her midriff was exposed, showing off pale skin. The skirt she wore, extremely low on her hips, was made of the blackest velvet. Around her waist, several thin chains of silver tingled with bells as she moved with purpose. She appeared unarmed. Head held high, she walked beside Stavros into the Grim Guzzler.

The Grim Guzzler was the best tavern in fact, the only tavern in Shdowforge City, located in the magma-filled depths of Blackrock Mountain. It is part of Shadowforge City, between the gnome-filled Manufactory and before the Chamber of Enchantment. Occupying a large two-level area, it was filled around the clock with patrons either inebriated, or well on their way. Order was kept by Phalanx and Panzer, a pair of mechanical golems under the control of Plugger Spazzring, the proprietor.  Slave servers hurried from table to bar and back again, making sure that the Dark Iron patrons were kept lubricated at all times, overseen by a Sayaadi named Mistress Nagmara.

Earlier in the day, Stavros had sent a letter to a certain Khorgheld Blaxeaxe, an unsavory slaver.  Blaxaxe was quite wealthy, having numerous operatives in the Eastern Kingdoms who brought him slaves captured in raids and banditry to resell for various uses in and around Shadowforge City, both in the surrounding mine shafts and at the excavation pit in the Searing Gorge to the north, called the Cauldron. Their Dark Iron masters were known for their brutality and required a steady supply of replacements.  The letter had indicated that Khorgheld would find a meeting in the Grim Guzzler with Stavros DarKoven to his advantage, and as DarKoven had supplied slaves Khorgheld for the mines before, Stavros had hoped that Khorgheld would meet with him.

Stavros led Madame Fyr to a nearby table and pulled out the chair so she could sit.

Accepting the offered chair, she lowered herself onto it. When she crossed her legs, the deep slit in the skirt parted to allow a peek at the red leather garter. She smiled and adjusted herself. "Thank you Stavros." Her voice didn't even sound the same, but was lusciously deep and smokey.

Stavros beckoned to the sayaadi Mistress Nagmara.  "How may I give you pleasure, milord? Mistress?" purred the succubus.  "Two Sulfurion Slammers, and some Rock-Salt Pretzels, if you please," he said in a gravely voice.

Lavoy lifted a pale, ringed hand to her deep crimson lips and stifled a yawn. "And do please hurry, I am finding myself rather...parched."

The succubus leaned in, murmuring "We can't have that..." and sought to moisturize Fyr's lips with her own before swaying off to fetch their drinks.

Chuckling, Fyr grabbed the succubus and let her tongue slide across the other's lips before sending her away with a slap to her backside. Her gaze turned to Stavros with a wink.

"Hopefully that will hold you over until the drinks get here..." commented Stavros in a dry, amused voice.

"Mmm, let's hope. I'd hate to have to take her right here on the table."

Stavros raised his eyebrows.  "Business first, Miss Fyr... business first," he said, a knowing smile on his face.

They had not been waiting long before the Dark Iron slaver entered, flanked by a pair of thugs.  As the dwarf approached the table, he called out "Master DarKoven!  Quite mysterious, your message..." The Dark iron looked over Stavros' companion with a leer. "Selling more than mine slaves?  Trading up in the world?"

Stavros chuckled.  "No, I am afraid not... this is Madame Fyr, a magister of Kul Tiras I have hired to help with certain matters... I am come in haste, Master Blaxeaxe, hoping against hope to make it here before... well, I get ahead of myself..." Stavros signaled for more drink.

"I understand you have recently acquired a Kaldorei child?" Stavros asked.

"... I may have... and what business is it of yours, Master DarKoven?" replied the Dark Iron slaver.

"Nothing, except that idiot Stonefist was overheard bragging about it in the Golden Keg in Stormwind... he was arrested and put to the question.  Even as we speak, the child-king of Stormwind is on his way to Ironforge, to demand of the Council of Three Hammers, to demand her release and return from the Queen-Regent."  The Queen-Regent  Moria Thaurissan was the daughter of  King Magni Bronzebeard of Ironforge and the widow of Emperor Dagran Thaurissan of the Dark Iron dwarves, and as such was both the Princess of Ironforge as well as Empress of the Dark Irons. He son, born of the former Dark Iron Emperor was arguably the rightful heir to both clans, and Moira, as the Dark Iron representative to the Council of Three Hammers, had pledged the Dark Iron clan to support the Alliance against the Horde.

Kaneka, in her disguised, sat quietly during the discussion, eyeballing the thugs. The two bodyguards, quite noisy in their spiked plate and chain armor, leaned on their enormous double-bitted axes.  One looked almost asleep, but the other was glaring malevolently from under his full helm, coal-red eyes burning.

"That Fel-damned son of a diseased kobold!" swore the slaver. "I should have taken his tongue when I took the girl!"

"Yes, well... that is the nature of the game we all play, is it not?" smiled Stavros DarKoven.  "So... I have an alternative to your property being seized, and you being attainted traitor to the Alliance for seeking to sell the child of one of your allies to the Bitch Queen of the Horde.  If that happens, you lose everything, your monies and property will be taken by the Empress-Regent... but there are alternatives, yes?"

"Aye, to bury the Kaldorei where she'll not be found, and now!" Blaxeaxe ranted, turning to his guards.

"Or, you could give her to me." Fyr offered. "I'll take her far away and none will be the wiser." She leaned back in her chair, uncrossing then recrossing her legs, that slit in the skirt falling open once more. "I've been looking for a Kaldorei child to... train. They are so incredibly hard to come by lately."

"Naturally, I would supply a finder's fee, which might save this exercise in being a total loss...." added DarKoven.  "Let us say... a letter of credit drawn on the Bank of Stormwind, in the amount of one thousand gold?" As the slaver had paid Stonefist three thousand gold for the child,  and DarKoven had confiscated the money, that would leave two thousand for them to deposit in the Stormwind bank for the child once they had returned her to Stormwind.

"And what do you get out of it?" snarled Blaxeaxe.

"Me? I get new... pet. To train how I want, do with what I want...maybe, when the time is right, I'll send her back here to be...your pet." She licked her lips slowly as her gaze drifted over the dwarf.

"No... I get what you get out of it... what does he get out of it?" the Dark iron said, indicating DarKoven with a toss of his head.

Her lips curled up into a wicked smile, a fingertip tracing over the swell of her breasts barely contained in the bodice. "He gets whatever his twisted little heart desires. If I get what I want that is."

Khorgheld laughed. "No wonder humans live such a short time... you spend your sap on useless hedonism, and not saving it to fuel your energies for committing acts of... Commerce!"  The slaver looked at DarKoven.  "Done. " he turned to his guards. "Bring her here."

Chuckling, she leaned back in her chair. "Hedonism is the oldest form of commerce." Lips curled into yet another wicked smile and she eagerly awaited for the girl to arrive, though she tried not to show it.

Some time passes as Stavros and Fyr make pleasant small talk.  Eventually, the guards return with the girl being virtually carried between them as she is still about their height.

She stood a little over four feet tall and had long dark blue hair.  Her skin was the color of lilacs, and her eyes shined in the dim tavern light like molten tin.  She had bruises all over her body but appeared whole and undamaged except for some scars from the manacles she no longer wore.

Biting her tongue, Madame Fyr kept her spellcasting and temper both in check. She wanted nothing more than to burn the entire place to the ground along with every inhabitant. Rising from her seat, she glided gracefully toward the child. "My, she's but a little thing, isn't she?" Her hand reached down to take the girl's chin in hand. Turning it slowly from side to side as if inspecting her, she nods. "She'll do nicely."

DarKoven pulled out the letter of credit, and signed it over to the slaver.  The guards released Kori, who stumbles over to Fyr, her gaze fearless, her face resigned and grim.

"Well, Fyr... if you are satisfied, shall we away?" DarKoven asks.  "The further we are from here, the better when the arrest warrant arrives, after all..."

Reaching down to gently grip the girl by the shoulder, she nodded to DarKoven. "I am completely satisfied. Let's go. I do believe your payment is now  due." Laughing, she guided the girl along.

"Yes... I look forward to settling our accounts in Dalaran," Stavros as the teleportation portal was summoned by Fyr. The three of them - Stavros DarKoven, Levoy Fyr, and Korynna Starwind - stepped through the portal and were gone. 

The Search for Korynna Starwind, part II

The fellow known as Jon Chess had discovered Dashel Stonefist in the Lakeshire Inn in the Redridge Mountain town of Lakeshire.

Jon had gotten a lead from a Stormwind City guard that the Dwarven criminal had been seen leaving Stormwind City with the nine-year-old Kaldorei girl Korynna "Kori" Starwind, heading towards Goldshire.  Jon had gone to Goldshire, where the itinerant merchant Remy "Two Times" (so named for his penchant for repeating the words at the end of his sentences) had seen them turn east on the road.

"Yeah, I remember seeing him before... before," Remy had said.  "Usually he was alone - he likes to drink here with friends from Jacob's Landing... Jacob's Landing."  Jacob's Landing was a nearby smuggling dock operated by the Defias Brotherhood. "This time he didn't stop though, just bought some provisions from me and headed towards Eastvale... Eastvale."

Jon had thanked the fellow, not stabbing him for his annoying verbal tic, and followed the road to Eastvale.  He had shown the sketches of Kori and Stonefist to enough people in Eastvale to be certain he had not stopped and continued down the road to the next town in the Redridge Mountains - Lakeshire

Lakeshire was a pleasant-enough human town that sat on the bank of Lake Everstill. Under the watchful and often worried eye of Magistrate Solomon, the town was considered a pretty quiet and serene.. well, except for the large nearby gnoll infestation, and occasional incursions by the Blackrock Orcs. So...by quiet, Jon clearly was stretching the definition.  The biker gang the Onyx Jackals had once used Lakeshire as a base of operation but had moved on to Boralus (or so Jon had heard).

Lakeshire Inn

Jon's first stop was the Lakeshire Inn, to speak to the barkeep, a old balding warrior named Daniels.  Jon showed him the pictures of Kori and Stonefist, and was surprised when Daniels had not only seen them a week or so ago, but that Stonefist had returned last night, and was still asleep in his room upstairs.  Jon thanked him, discretely bribed the Daniels to forget that Jon had ever been here, and left the Inn.

Outside the Inn, Jon turned away from the entrance and turned the corner on the side of the building opposite that of the sun, where the shadows of the blocked daylight formed shadows.  With a quick guttural invocation, Jon entered the shadows and into the Shadows, vanishing from sight. Re-entering the Inn, Jon made his way, silently and unseen, up the wide stairway which led to the sleeping rooms. It was the work of seconds to Shadowstep the short distance into the room.

Jon smiled nastily.  Stonefist was slumbering deeply, masking any possible sound Jon might make with mighty snores.  The canny criminal had set up a loaded crossbow on a chair and rigged it to fire should someone open the inn room door unexpectantly.  A small spread of caltrops had been scattered in front of the door and beneath the window to the outside.  Jon approved of the precautions - he would have wagered that the caltrops were poisoned, too.

Jon cleared the caltrops and disarmed the crossbow, just in case, and then approached the recumbent Dwarf,  Jon drew both of his daggers and put the cold steel tip of one to the Dwarf's left nostril until a half-inch of the blade was nestled inside.  The cold of the steel made Stonefist twitch and might have been enough to wake him, but Jon was impatient and ore the knife sideways, through the sensitive flesh of the nose. Dashel Stonefist awoke with a scream but stopped when he felt the other dagger pressed against his throat.

"Morning, 'Fist," greeted Chess with a pleasant voice.

"Wha' thae bloody hell are ye doing, ye poltroon!" asked Stonefist in a furious whisper.

"We're going to have a chat, and I have no patience for your usual recalcitrance, so I thought I'd make clear that if I do not like your answers, you won't be leaving the room in one piece. I trust I've made my point?" asked Chess.

"I'm going tae kill ye, ye son of a split-legged whore! When I get oot ... yeeaaargh!" Stonefist began, interrupted my Jon's ist breaking his already injured nose.

"Let me repeat - I have no time nor patience to do this the long way, where I beat you to a pulp like the last time," explained Chess, his voice a model of patience and restraint.

Stonefist glared murder at the human but kept his mouth wisely shut.

"The girl... where is she now?" asked Jon.

"Wha' girl... no wait!" pleaded Stonefist as Jon placed the dagger point in the other nostril.  "I sold her, okay?"

"To whom did you sell her?" Jon asked patiently. pushing the dagger point a little further into the nasal cavity.

"I sold her to a Dark Iron slaver named Khorgheld Blaxeaxe over in Shadowforge City," answered the Dwarven thug.

"Thank you... and now, one last question... why?"

"I owned that bookstore bitch some payback is why..." grumbled the Dwarf.  "She and some other bitch - a Worgen, so a real bitch... did me dirt for no reason, and you know I never let the scales go unbalanced.  I saw that the kid had been hanging out around the shop and that Whisperleaf had begun to like her, so I thought I could pay back the bitch and turn a bit of coin at the same time... the Warchief has a bounty for Kaldorei slaves, ye ken."

"True, true... I am not saying you did wrong.  I know how important it is to balance the scales... so let's balance ours, shall we?" asked Jon rhetorically. "So... for the kidnapping.." Jon ripped the other nostril open with his dagger. Stonefist screamed like a stuck pig. "For the selling of a child to the Dark Iron bastards... " Jon snarled as he grabbed the Stomefist's hand and held it to the wooden side table. His eyes flared with a savage rage as he drove his dagger through the center of Stonefist's outspread hand.  Another guttural scream ripped from Stonefist's throat. "And for reparations to the child... I am confiscating your ill-gotten gains."

"Fine, fine!" screeched Stonefist. "Just let me alone!"

"So you admit the judgment is fair, and the scales balanced?" asked Chess.

"Yes, yes, anything, just stop!" beseeched the dwarf.

"Very well..." began Jon, and then grabbed Stonefist by the throat. "By the authority of the Uncrowned, "Jon showed the dwarf his Uncrowned insignia, "know that if I ever see you again, or if I find out that you even whisper, even think of crossing me again, this will seem like foreplay, if you catch my meaning? Van Cleef owes me a favor, and you are not well-loved by the Defias."

Stonefist's eyes went wide; even though the pain of his wounds, he recognized the gravity of the threat.  The Uncrowned was a secret organization of rogues, spies, and criminals who claimed to be "the slayers of kings, the downfall of empires, the unseen blades that write the true history of this world." Their leaders formed the Council of Shadows, and they had fought the Burning Legion during the demons' third invasion. Ravenholdt, SI:7, the Defias Brotherhood, the Bloodsail Buccaneers... all were represented in the leadership of the Uncrowned.  Several of the Council of Shadows were personal friends of Jon, and others - including Vanessa Van Cleef - owned him blood debts.

Jon turned to go and changed his mind.  Before Stonefist could react, Jon's boot came down sideways on the criminal's left knee joint.  Jon snarled as he felt the kneecap slide off the joint in what would be an especially long and painful healing. "That was just for me, you boiling pustule on the penis of a diseased goat... feel free to come after me, if you want to balance that scale."

Jon took the rather large sack of gold Stonefist had gotten for selling Kori, and left the Inn.  he headed to the flight point to go make an interim report to his client before heading to Shadowforge City.

The Search for Korynna Starwind, part I

The fellow known widely as Jon Chess had aching feet.

Jon had been hired by Deylania Whisperleaf, the Elvin proprietor of a bookstore in the Mage Quarter of Stormwind, where he had rented a book on the pronunciation of the Arakkoan language; Jon had taught himself to read the language so he could make use of rare Arakkoa books about the use and dangers of Shadow magic, but had been told that his pronunciation was atrocious, not having a beak. A certain child refugee named Korynna Starwind (but who was commonly called Kori) from Darnassus, who had taken to frequenting the bookstore had vanished, and Miss Whisperleaf, upon finding out that Jon was a Private Investigator, had hired him to locate the child so that she could be assured that the child was safe.

Jon had sketched the child from Deylania's description - pale lavender skin, sad eyes, a long forehead, long, deep blue straight hair parted in the center. Deylania had briefly confused the child for a Void Elf. Armed with the sketch, Jon had gone around the city and into the Stormwind park areas, canvassing the Kaldorei and Gilnean refugees displaced by the War of the Thorns.  Jon was not unknown to the refugee population, as he often brought supplies of Gilnean White and Darnassian Blue cheeses to the camps, courtesy of Trias Cheeses.

Darnassus Refugee Camp

He had found several refugees who had seen the child (or at any rate, thought they had, recognizing her from the sketch) but none of them had seen her lately. They had mentioned that the frail child seemed lonely, often observed playing by herself. Some commented that she was a strange child, always morose.  Jon had refrained from pointing out that being an orphan would have that effect on most children - Jon would know, having himself been orphaned by the attack of Arugal's feral Worgen on his home of Pyrewood Village. One Gilnean refugee had turned on Jon with an angry glare, and said "Don't you have anything better to do than harass us?  Darnassus was the second home we lost - you'd think that the Alliance would have better things to do. Instead of fighting over ruins, the Alliance should retake our homeland!"

Not having any leads, Jon went to the Stormwind City gates, where he pestered and cajoled every guard at the gate for three shifts straight, offering refreshments of cheese and beer and showing them the sketch.  Finally, one of the guards thought she recognized the child.  "Yeah, she looks familiar... I remember because it was kind of strange, you don't see many Night Elf children leaving the city," said the guard, a stocky muscular woman with short-cropped, copper-red hair named Emilia Monson. "There was a dwarf with her... not exactly a pair you see very often."

"When was that?" asked Jon.

"Maybe a week ago, I think?" answered the Stormwind City guard.

"Can you describe the dwarf?" Jon asked, refilling her tankard from the pony keg he had brought with him.

Dashel Stonefist

"Kind of short... yeah, I know, kind of helpful, neh?  I mean, I already said he was a dwarf... tan skin, long black beard, shot with some grey. Bald except for a long top-knot.  Kind of down-at-the-heels, wearing patched leather pants and thick double-buckled black boots.  A couple of knives, but no axe... leather tunic, all greasy, like it hadn't been cleaned in a while," she said in a bored voice.

Jon did a quick sketch and showed her.  "Yeah, that's the guy!" she confirmed.

"Keep the keg!" Jon said.  From her description and confirmation, Jon had identified the dwarf as an Old Town resident named Dashel "Fist" Stonefist, a thug and enforcer who had once been associated with the Defias Brotherhood. Dashel had earned his nickname of "Fist" because the language of a beating was the only one he spoke fluently.  Jon had thought that after the scandal associated with a Defias kidnapping, he had disappeared, but apparently, true to the nature of dwarves, he had merely gone "underground".

Jon wrote a quick report to his client:

"Madame Whisperleaf.

Questioned the refugee community, and while some remember seeing Kori, none had seen her recently.  A Stormwind guard saw her leave in the company of a criminal, heading towards Goldshire.  I am in pursuit.  Will send an update as circumstances allow.

Respectfully,

Jon Chess"

Jon posted it and set off to Goldshire.

Ghost, Part III

(Written with Zainstra/Zaneryne and Kaneka's players. The part of Telcontyr is directed by Zane's player)

(This is Jon Chess' perspective. For Zane's story, see https://www.patreon.com/posts/ghost-part-1-24070775 )

Jon and Kaneka landed lightly from their egress from the teleportation portal onto the cobblestone streets of Stormind, in the square outside of the Stormwind Stockades.  Jon's eyes narrowed as he recognized the shop of Sungift Relics, run by the former Sin'dorei noblewoman Linenia Sungift.

Zane had worked for Sungift Relics as a relic hunter and seeker of artifacts.  Linenia, a stunning Ren'dorei refugee, had been the one to introduced Zane and Jon, sending them on a "blind date" before Jon had joined the Brotherhood of Valor.  While not precisely friends, Jon and Linenia were friendly, and Zane had considered Linenia her best friend.  Further complicating matters was the fact that one of the scouts Jon had recruited for the Alliance mission to harass and slow the Horde army's approach to Darnassus, a Ren'dorei criminal Jon had taken from the Stockades, had become Linenia's lover.

Jon stepped forward to the front door of the shop, hoping it was open.

Kaneka was confused when she stepped into Stormwind and immediately thought that her spell hadn't worked correctly.  "This isn't Stonetalon....it's Stormwind. Well...I didn't exactly focus on a place so much as a thing...maybe the thing is here..."  She muttered to herself quietly as she searches her brain for the error she was sure she'd made.

The "roguishly" handsome Ren'Dorei fellow, who might be mistaken for a servant of Linenia Sungift, had been asked guard the door to the back rooms of the shop when Linenia and her guest had retreated to discuss confidential matters.  When he heard the knock upon the door, his eyes fluttered opened - he had been near nodding off.  he got out f the chair he had tilted against a wall and shuffled to the door.  His finger scraped across the small viewing window latch on the door.  he recognized Jon Chess, but not his lovely companion.  Closing the latch, he opened the several locks and cracked the door, letting his ever-so-charming appear. "Commander....long time....no see," he said, opening the door.  He propped his lanky form against the door frame, his eyes glancing to Kaneka.

"Captain now, actually... the Brotherhood restructured their ranks," corrected Jon gently as entered the door.  "You seem well, 'Tyr - finding your way to happiness and wealth in Stormwind? The lovely mage here is Kaneka Hillyard - she has generously volunteered to help me find Zaneryne.  She went missing during her last mission. " Jon offered his hand to Telcontyr., grinning.  Jon never really trusted other rogues, but he trusted the Ren'dorei.

Telcontyr smirked, his lip curling one end of his mouth. "Yes, Captain... Commander... whatever...". Telcontyr turned, allowing Jon and Kaneka to come into the shop. "Yeah, things are going well for me... well, me and Linenia, that is." Telcontyr quickly frowned at the mention of Zaneryne, and started to gnaw nervously on his bottom lip. "You don't say...?" Telcontyr might be a good prevaricator to some... but not to Jon.

Kaneka eyes the Ren'dorei. She knew him from somewhere.....where had she seen him?? OH yes! He brought that scroll case to Phred's for Jon when she was house sitting for the gnome.  "It's Telcontyr correct? I remember you."  She stepped into the room behind Jon.

Telcontyr looked side to side for a moment, and then looked at Kaneka, trying to remember - he had been asked (sort of) to NOT remember things by his mistress. "Oh... heh, yeah," he stammered, nodding."It's me.  Sorry, my memory is terrible, or more accurately, asked to be terrible. Apologies for not remembering." He paused and continued. "Uh, so... you're here trying to find Zaneryne... Why start in Stormwind?" he asked, scratching where his hair parted.

"Tyr, let me say this once... I will have the truth.  I know Zane was either here, or left Linenia her medallion.  Would you ask Linenia if she might join us?" Jon asked, his voice calm and polite... and those who knew him at all, knew that a polite Jon Chess was the most dangerous kind of Jon Chess.

Telcontyr sighed.  he knew very little about the entire situation. "Yeah I will get her... just wait here and try and get comfortable." Telcontyr lifted his hands and turned about to get Linenia.  He knocked on the inner door before slipping into her office, and said, in a soft, conversational voice "Linenia, you might need to come out to the storefront, you have a guest..."

Linenia looking up from the guest she already had then back to Telcontyr and said, "If it is a customer, fluff them - I am sort of in the middle of something."
Muttering, she continued "We really need to get you more educated on the relics out on the floor..."

Telcontyr interrupts her suddenly, "Its Jon Chess." Linenia froze upon hearing that but came to the front.

"Hello Jon Chess and friend of Jon Chess," Linenia said with a soft smile.

Kaneka offered a small smile and nod of her head. "Hello."  She kept it simple and brief, knowing full well that Jon was going to be leading this conversation.

"Baroness Linenia Sungift, this is my friend and colleague, Magistrix Kaneka Hillyard," Jon said, indicating his companion.  "Kaneka, this is Linenia, Zaneryne's close friend and sometimes employer."  Jon smiled. "Linenia, is Zane here?  And please educate me as to when and how you managed to come into possession of the communications charm I gifted her? Zane has gone missing, and presumed dead; I am under orders to find out the truth of the matter."  Jon's smile became somehow less friendly and more predatory. "Not counting my very personal stake in the matter."

Linenia gave a defeated sigh as she looked down, folding the folds on her gown.  Sheran her tongue over her lips, about to speak - Perhaps the timing was Fate. The door in the back of the building swung open, and out came Zainstra, Zaneryne's identical twin sister.  This matter concerned her sister and she wanted to hear it, too. Linenia had not be open with her, and now she had both people she had sought out in the same room. Zainstra came to a tumbling halt in front of Jon Chess, meeting his gaze, before looking to Linenia asking in Thalassian, <"This him?">

Linenia had bee nearly overrun by Zainstra, and groaned - Telcontyr would be punished later for failing to heep her guest under control. She shifted to be between Jon and Zainstra, and barked out an answer in the same language. <"You were supposed to stay in the back!"> She looked at Jon, "I suppose I know have a lot of explaining to do..."

Jon looked stunned as a near-perfect copy of the woman he loved ran out from the back, but immediately Jon knew it was not Zaneryne Grimsky; whoever the woman was, she did not move with anything approaching the panther-like svelte grace of Zaneryne.  Jon noted that Tyr was embarrassed rather than alarmed, and so he did not recognize the newcomer as a threat.  Barking in  heavily-accented Thalassian, Jon barked <"In the Common tongue please, out of courtesy for Kaneka">.  Facing the newcomer, Jon said "My name is Chess.  Jon Chess."

Telcontyr came of of the back room as well, rubbing his chin, standing close to the Zaneryne's twin.  He also spoke in Thalassian, translating the Common Tongue for Zainstra. "Jon Chess, and Kaneka, meet Zainstra Dawnsky, the sister of Zaneryne... if Kaneka is not aware of the situation between the sisters, you bringing her here must mean that you trust her with the information." She looked to Kaneka. "A simple story before I explain Zaneryne's actions. Myself and Zainstra here, we were the dabblers in the Void that lead us to being exiled from Silvermoon City. Zaneryne took her sister's place while we were exiled, and people believed that Zaneryne was the exile, so when we came out of the Void and got to live here, they swapped back. Zainstra lives, or lived, in Silvermoon City. The sisters used bracers, enchanted to alter their appearances so that the Sin'dorei looked like a Void Elf and her sister, now Ren'dorei, looked every inch a Blood Elf. Zane took this sacrifice for her sister." She looked at Zainstra and then looked at Jon, "Zaneryne has and always has protected the ones she loves, at the cost of herself, thinking it is the right thing to do, in her last mission she was found out, discovered by an old, old... old former friend back in Silvermoon named Nora'thas."

Zainstra gasped upon hearing his name, about would have spoken excep that Linenia interrupted, and continued. "Nora'thas would expose Zainstra for the Ren'Dorei she is, and have her killed - that is why she is here. Zaneryne is off luring Nora'thas away to end him once and for all; she thinks she has to do this alone to protect Zainstra and protect Jon."

Zainstra shakes her head and speaks a broken common, "No no this no can happen! My sister tells me this man, this Jon is love, and she no cannot sacrifice self again to keep me and him happy. Linenia, why you do not stop her?"

Linenia looks at Zainstra. "I tried, Zainstra..."

Zainstra was not having it. "No, not try, she no here!" She looked at Jon, pushing the issue. "I help you. We go find her!"

Kaneka listened to the story, nodding her head as the information became clearly understood. Turning her gaze from the trio to Jon, she waited to see what the next step would be - although she thought she already knew the answer.

"No," said Jon.  "Apologies, sister of Zane, but part of trusting someone is trusting them to make decisions, and honoring that trust." Jon shook his head.  "Zane fekt strongly - clearly - that she needed to isolate herself from me, and go on the run.  Zane is no fool.  Although I resent the fact that she is letting me think her dead, I will honor her choice, and live with the uncertainty.  I will go back to the Brotherhood and report that she is missing in action, and that I was unable to find her.  If, in time, she chooses to step back into the life she has abandoned... but until then, I will honor her decision, and hope that she is safe, wherever she is." Jon's voice tightened as he continued, until he sounded like a dead man speaking.  His face was as if carved in stone - emotionlessness.  "Pray, Mistress Dawnsky, take the Chess amulet, and should you need assistance, us it to call me, for your sister's sake."

A look of confusion crossed Kaneka's face. This was not the answer she had expected him to give. She was going to protest, but reading his expression, thought better of it.

Zainstra stood in shock. and was Linenia deeply angered.

“Are you honestly going to not go after her?" Linenia shreiked. "You love her, Gods damn it... Jon, she isn’t thinking clearly, running away. The man who hunts her will kill her if he doesn’t get what he wants! Can you honestly live with yourself knowing you sent her to her death!” Linenia was not one to speak like this but it was madness, pure madness, to her! “Zane thinks she is protecting you two but you two were meant to take this world on together and your both going to just do this to each other?”

"I am respecting her wishes.  Its what adults do - you are all so much older than us mere mortals, and act so superior, and  yet you act as if following your own desires is all that matters... Zane is smart and capable, and almost nobody knows my capabilities better," Jon's voice began to rise and fill with the suppressed emotion.  "Its. Not. That. Simple.  Do you not think that Zane was unaware that the entire Brotherhood of Valor would not have ran to her aid,  mages and warlocks and warriors and paladins and even Little Z?  There is a deeper game here, and Zane is the only one of us who knows the rules!" Jon turned to Zane's sister.  "She sent for you, so that you could be relatively safe in the Alliance... if she is running, and this... Nora'thas? is pursuing, she wanted to remove you out of the target area and somewhere safer than Silver-fucking-moon!  Are you going to be arrogant enough to put yourself at risk, when that is the one thing Zane DIDN'T WANT?"  Jon's voice had risen to a yell.  He stopped and caught himself, visibly willing himself to a calmer appearance. "I dont pretend to know is powers and capabilties - but if he is following Zane, he will never find her - and the minute he stops, she will cut his throat from behind.  If he takes either one of us in his sights, she'll cut his throat from behind."

Kaneka felt  out of place suddenly. She stepped to Jon's side and slipped the anchor charm back into his hand. She didn't need to use it anymore. Looking at his profile for a brief moment, she turned on her heel and headed out the door. She didn't say a word to him about where she was going; he was smart and could figure it out.  If he wanted her help again, he knew where she would be.

Linenia just did not know what to think, shakes her head and methodically thought of how to answer before letting her emotions take flight. Zainstra, not knowing Jon, spoke up, starting in Common and changing to Thalassian as he ran out of the correct words with which to convey her meaning.

"I not want to put myself at risk no, do not want to go against my sister wishes but she throw her life away so many time for me, and she has you, she spoke to me so highly of you, and this not a way to protect us!" She changed to Thalassian. <"I love my sister to end of Azeroth, and whatever has her so scared is what her mind is running on, this is not my sister who is always reasonable, always methodical and always well planned. If you honestly know my sister, you know she is all those things - she is skilled, calculated, and planned out, she acts on her brain, she researches her marks, gathers information before acting, she never just acts on emotion or a whim! For her to run, to act so rashly, that is out of her character! She runs and hides from us, to hide from Nora'thas to keep me and you safe! That is not very much like her! She is outside her element, and in harms way. She is never hunted; she is the one who hunts, so for once she is the prey of someone's hunt! She can get killed and this is something your okay with? How can you say you're the man that loves her, when you let her go off into this world and be something she isn't with a man after her very skilled and doing what is his nation to hunt and kill? How can you stand there and say you're okay with her choices when you know damn well that is not something she is! Zaneryne is not running from Nora'thas, someone else is! And you or I are the only one that could save her from her irrationality!" Zainstra was often swift to anger; she was the rash twin.  She stepped forward to slap Jon.  Jon fought a grin as she telegraphed her intent from three separate tells, but made no defense.

Linenia caught her hand.

Jon turned to Zainstra, and said in functional if heavily accented Thalassian. <"If you want to get your sister killed, go after her.  It will place you in danger, looking for her will expose paths to her for her pursuer.  If he captures you or kills you, he will have leverage over Zane.  If you truly want to help Zane, stay here or in Dalaran, and make yourself as un-findable and safe as possible. Zane knows where to find us, and will reach out for help when she can.  Until then, don't wreck her chances by exposing yourself."

Jon turns to Tyr. "Guard her.  iI you need cash for anything, get it through <Universal Exports>.  Call me if you have a need."

Linenia, holding Zainstra by the hand, glared at Jon. The stare she gave was the same she had given several others before she killed.  She looked at him as she looked at Zainstra nodding, and then back to Jon, "As Zainstra said, Zaneryne is not herself in her methods. This is not the elf that I know and love and view as a sister. My Zaneryne is methodical, calm, patient, deadly, she is never hunted, she hunts, she is never tracked, she tracks, she doesn't fear her obstacles, she overcomes them, so to stand here and say that you think this is what she wants... you do not know Zaneryne. She is afraid, she thinks you and she are lost to this world if she exists in it. She's acting on emotion, I always told Zane her problem was she thought too much and never acted on emotion. She finally takes my advice, and it's the wrong setting."

Linenia paused for breath. "She will run and hide into this world and be a ghost, when she doesn't have to be.  I do not think Zainstra should stop her, but you could, and I don't know why you aren't helping her! You don't know who is after her and what he is capable of! I do know him, and I do know that she is in a panic and alone and does not have anyone there for her!" She turns away and waves a dismissal at Jon.

Without another word, Jon bowed to Linenia and then to Zainstra, leaving the chess amulet with them.