The red Drakonid looked down at the fellow known as Jon Chess with a sneer of thinly-veiled contempt. “So, you're the new ‘help’?, said Captain Drine, the head of the Scalelsworn, the city guards of Valdrakken, charged with keeping the city, its draconic and drakonid inhabitants, and now, reluctantly, the Alliance and Horde allies, safe. “I do not believe the Scalesworn absolutely need ‘help’ but we do as the Aspects command - and they have commanded me to work with you... Although I don’t know what possible help you could be, fragile as you are.”
Jon smiled at the First Talon. “Oh, and why do you say that?”
“I’ve kept an eye on you since I received instructions to cooperate. You do nothing but play chess with the Bronze Cheesemonger,” said Drine. “You drink tea, buy delicacies for your family meals, and read far too much fictional trash.”
“Well, my taste in literature is neither here nor there... But the rest of your observations are quite accurate as far as they go,” said Chess, his voice redolent with amusement.
“Of course they are. I have had my men follow you for a week,” confirmed Drine.
“Your men did a wonderful job, observing me from adjacent merchant stalls and building steps. One planted himself in a patch of grass to the side, and stared himself nearly cross-eyed watching me,” said Chess. “On the other hand, you engaged a Horde operative and sent him to Investigator Erima to help with a disturbance. The Horde fellow - a goblin named Noxblade - brought Erima a map showing a rebel stronghold in the Misty Vale. The goblin snuck into Misty Vale and slew several Primalists and rebels, finding evidence that there are further attacks being planned. So… you do have some use for us foreigners after all.”
Captain Drine said nothing, but his expression looked as sour as if he had just eaten a salad of lemons and crab apples and discovered half a banana slug.
“With all due respect, Captain… the vulnerability of dragons and their drakonid is their overwhelming strength; so few things get in your way that the development of subterfuge and misdirection are retarded. Your goblin friend Noxblade, on the other hand, lacks a dragon’s strength but makes up for it with guile and undetectable mendacity. Plus venoms and high explosives.”
Jon stepped back. “Your men saw exactly what I wanted them to see… they never noticed when one of my … associates… took my place.” Jon had dressed his half-brother in Jon’s clothes and had used a Shadow magic illusion to appear as a Blood Elf. “A little deception can go a long way in my business.”
“The mercantile activity around the buying and selling of cheese?” asked Captain Drine.
“As a privy agent for the Alliance,” informed Jon. “Now… how can I help?”
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