The fellow most people called Jon Chess (because they didn't know his middle name, and Jon was not about to tell anyone, not even his wife Alia, regardless of how many whispered bribes she offered for the disclosure - she hated, hated, hated not knowing something when she became aware that there was something to know) felt the remembered chill of Icecrown down to his bones, and he didn't remember the ache of the cold hurting this much when he was stationed here before. Of course, he had been younger then, and not nearing an estimated fourth decade of his life. Fortunately, what Jon had lost in lethal and agility he made up for with an expanded repertoire of cunning tricks, poisons, and explosives.
He and his wife Alia had been assigned to Northrend when the Lord Admiral had been abducted, as the Scourge and the Cultists of the Damned were out of control and aggressively attempting to regain their power and influence in Northrend. The Alliance called, and Jon and his wife had answered the call to battle, destroying the resurgent Scourge wherever and however possible. In Jon's case, the "how" often involved highly explosive devices.
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| Jon Chess and Alia Atherton in Icecrown |
It seemed to Jon that his life had been in service, one way or another, to Jaina Proudmoore and Kul Tiras. Jon had been a street rat when Elling Trias, the retired spymaster of the Alliance, had gotten a request from the newly-minted head of state of the city-state of Theramore; Jaina knew she needed some help with what was called the "Great Game"; espionage, intelligence gathering and analysis, and what she called "the art of expediting political impediments" - assassination. Jaina had intended to never have Theramore behave in such a manner - she had begun with the theory that her arcane scrying would be sufficient to the need, and when it had turned out that those who wished Theramore ill - opponents both Alliance and Horde - had no such scruples and plenty of mages, while not as powerful and capable as Jaina, made up for subtlety and elegance with brute force and determination. She had been grimly determined to protect Theramore and its citizens, so she had asked "Uncle Elling" for help; she did not trust Stormwind's Matthias Shaw and SI:7 to have Theramore's best interests in mind.
Trias had found a street rat named Jon, an orphan sent to Stormwind after the Gilnean Wall had shut, pyrewood cursed by Arugal, and Silverlaine Keep had taken. Jon had become an Agent of Cheese, trained my Trias in both information-gathering and cheese mercantile operations (cheese merchants made ideal covers for spying and smuggling), and then sent to the assassins of Ravenholdt for polishing. He had survived the advanced training of Ravenholdt, and started his service to Lady Jaina,
When Theramore had been destroyed, a large part of Jon's soul had been destroyed with it. Jon had served the Alliance armed force in Northrend as a scout, spy and assassin and then was approached by the Kul Tiras secret service. Contact with Kul Tiras had been lost during the Cataclysm, and Jon had opened a private investigator business, based first in Hearthglen and then in Stormwind.
It was not until the Alliance had decided to send an Jaina Proudmoore and an expedition to Kul Tiras to convince them to rejoin the Alliance that he returned to the Great Game. The royalty of Gilneas were a working family; the King's daughter was part of the Uncrowned, and ran Genn Graymane's spy service, and she was well aware of Jon's history with both Jaina and the Kul Tiras secret service. Jon had seemed an ideal choice... but Jon had refused until Elling Trias had been the one asking. How could Jon say no to the man who had taken Jon from the Stormwind gutter and given him a future? Short answer - he couldn't.
Jon had built an information network in Kul Tiras, and had helped Jaina escape imprisonment at the hands of Priscilla Ashvane during her bid to take over Kul Tiras. Jaina held Jon in close service; while she was the Lord Admiral and loved her family and homeland dearly, she did not trust them - she was not a neophyte any longer. She respected Jon's abilities (and to his surprise, his judgement), and while she did not love Jon, she did trust him. Jon became Jaina's blade in the Shadows.
He looked forward to the return of his wife, the chestnut-haired lore mistress mage. He looked forward to her return for several compelling reasons; he was concerned for her safety while in Icecrown (he was always concerned for her safety in war zones, but especially in this icy hell), and wherever she went she shed an aura which made the biting cold much less toothsome. Mostly, though, he wanted to feel her lips against his - he was utterly besotted with his clever, subtle wife.
It was several long hours before she returned, her fur-lined leather cloak completely hiding (or at least muffling) the curves of her body. Tendrils of hair framed her face through the fur-lined hood, and Jon made a note to beg her to allow him to brush her long, lustrous hair. He loved brushing her hair, nuzzling it as it framed her delectable neck and shoulders.
"Jon, I am starving... may I ask you to make something for us for dinner? But nothing too fancy - we need to be awake early, as I have word from the Lady," she said, almost vibrating with excitement. "She has an assignment for us... on the other side of the portal." She almost laughed as she watched Jon's face transform - he had not been at all happy when a Power had abducted their oath-leige High Admiral Lady Jaina Proudmoore, and even more depressed and despondent when the informal council of Alliance and Horde had allowed the Ebon Blade to leave them behind to battle the waves of uncontrolled undead and Cultists on this side of the portal to the Shadowlands.
"You bring me the nicest gifts, Beloved" said Jon, kissing his wife. "You deserve a feast! I will be back shortly with your repast!" he gathered his box of spices, and paused before exiting, returning to Alia to steal a second kiss.
He was a rogue, after all...
