The fellow known as Jon Chess and the mage named Melissa D'Arque left the hall where the mustering of <Phoenix Ascendant> had been held. As the mustering had begun to wind down, Jon and Melissa had made their excuses, as Melissa had indicated that she had a matter of some urgency to discuss. Jon had told the assemblage that he was going to show Melissa the ship from which he operated when in Theramore, a merchant's vessel called the Blackblade.
The Blackblade was theoretically just another merchant, making the routine supply trips between Stormwind, Menethal Harbor, Southshore, and Theramore. The ship, under Captain Kestril, was not particularly swift in its normal route, but Trias Cheese sent a great deal of cheese from Stormwind the various scheduled ports of call - and sometimes to some unscheduled stops as well. Captain Kestril was not averse to some cargo for which provenance and paperwork were not required, and every port of call needed cheese.
They exited the keep and passed the martial training yard together.
"So, are we actually going to the ship, or would you mind if we went somewhere more comfortable?" asked Melissa to the rogue.
"I am at your disposal, Miss D'Arque," replied Jon. The evening air was a bit colder, and would no doubt be even more so on the docked ship. A pint of something wet, perhaps even something warmed, would not go amiss.
"The inn, then? I need a drink," said Melissa, her thoughts running along the same lines as Jon.
Together they climbed the small hill and entered the inn. Jon waved at the bartender on duty, a statuesque blonde woman named Lillian, whose strong, if not precisely pretty, features were dominated by an eyepatch covering her right eye. Lillian waved back as Jon directed Melissa to a table before heading for the bar, where he ordered some Dalaran Noir, a sweet white vintage, and a large mug of scaldingly-hot water for tea; Jon brought Swiftthistle in bulk whenever he was in Stormwind, and often indulged in a mix of the Swiftthistle and other herbs to make Thistle Tea, well-known for its ability to allow one to stay awake long into the shadow hours past midnight. He brought both drinks back to where Melissa had settled, her staff leaning against an unused chair.
"So... yes, you hear correctly - the Syndicate traitor has a brother," she began, taking a sip of her wine. "I'd like you to find him for me."
Jon hesitated a bit before responding. "Very well... I will look around and see what I can find." Jon had, upon occasion, been required to locate people who would rather stay hidden, often so that he could "remove them from the board" - assassinate them. Jon didn't think that the mage wished him to murder her brother, but the principle was the same.
"What do you need to begin?" Melissa asked.
"We'll get to that - but before we begin I need you to do me a favor," said Chess.
"I already owe you my life - what's a favor, in balance?" said Melissa wryly. Clearly, she still did not like the fact that she had managed to escape the Syndicate still alive only with his help.
"I want... I need you to stop calling yourself a traitor to the Syndicate," announced Jon.
"Because I should not be advertising my former ties, or because I am better than that?" the mage inquired, one eyebrow arched.
"Well, both, really - reminding people that you once worked for the Syndicate won't win you any friends," Jon said, understating the reactions most people would have towards the Syndicate. The Syndicate was a criminal organization made up of former nobles and mercenaries of Alterac, who had turned to crime and terrorism against their traditional enemies of Stromgarde after the Alliance had razed their kingdom for betraying the Alliance to the Horde.
"I object to you calling yourself a traitor - you did not betray the Syndicate, the Syndicate betrayed you by forcing you to join the Argus Wake, either as a member of their foul cult or as a sacrifice to fuel their powers." The Argus Wake were shadow mages in Alterac allied with the Syndicate. They had encouraged and helped the Syndicate to take control over much of the ruins of Stromgarde in the nearby Arathi Highlands. The city was a deadly battlefield between the Syndicate, ogres and the remaining humans of Stromgarde. Jon knew that the Argus Wake planned to use the city to prepare the way for the Third Host of the Burning Legion, Sargaras' destroying army of demons. "They broke the bonds of loyalty first; you owed them nothing."
Melissa nodded absently as he pondered is words.
"And you owe me nothing for helping you escape their reach - killing Syndicate thugs is its own reward. Plus, you can never relax your vigilance; they have a long reach. So quit telling them where to find you." Jon grinned. "I would hate to see all of my hard work in getting you away from them go to naught."
Melissa chuckled at that. "That's fair enough, though you will notice that we are essentially alone now. She motioned around them to the empty common room of the inn. Lillian would wander in and out to speak with the cook, but that was all. "Tell me, would you not say you owe your sponsor, Trias? He set you upon the path you walk now?" asked Melissa, interested in Jon's answer.
"I will always be grateful to Trias for the opportunity he has offered me... but I am the fellow who bled at Ravenholdt, and who bleeds in service to Theramore," said Jon - Melissa D'Arque was one of the few who knew that Jon was not a mere mercantile Agent of Cheese as he professed, but was a privy agent who worked for Jaina Proudmoore, a spy and assassin for Theramore.
"Hmm," said Melissa. She would have to give Jon's argument more serious contemplation.
"So..." said Jon, changing the subject. "Tell me about your brother?"
Melissa hesitated for a second, almost as if caught flat-footed at the change in subject. "Honestly, I could not tell you much. The last time I saw him, he was clutching some toy in one hand, and pulling our mother out of the house with the other. It was not a hard choice to join the Syndicate - we'd been slowly starving, with Mother going without entirely so that we could have something. Of course, the Syndicate promises of food and protection turned out to be all lies - but it was them, slow starvation, or a fast death at the hands of the Horde."
"So he would be what, twenty years of age now? Younger?" asked Jon.
"Must be, by now. Same hair color as me, but different eyes," answered Melissa.
Jon took a sketchbook and a small wooden case containing several charcoal pencils, and began to sketch, using Melissa's features as a guide, but making the facial features harder, more masculine. "So... maybe something like this?" he said, showing the sketch to Melissa.
"About that, yeah," confirmed the mage. "But he should have a little scar here," she said, indicating the left side of the chin, "from when we played at the nearby cliffside."
Jon made a minute adjustment to the sketch. "Like so?"
"Hmmm... yeah, that is probably as close as you can get."
"And where did you last see him?"
"Like I said when I forced him to run before the Syndicate arrived. I know he wouldn't be likely to have gone very far from Alterac, though," Melissa added. "He's not in Hillsbrad or Arathi, from what I can tell." Jon remained silent, taking her pronouncement with a grain of salt. He may not have been there at the time, but things evolve over time. "I went back to look, shortly after you got me employment with the Blackbird Ring." Introducing Melissa to the Blackbirds had been an easy decision since Melissa had worked for a criminal enterprise before and knew the kinds of magic such organizations used.
"Law wanted more proof regarding the Argus Wake, you see." Sara Law was a childhood friend of Matthias Shaw, and Shaw often employed her in for both her skills as a tailor and as an intermediary, he could trust; the sad truth about most SI:7 operatives is that they lied for a living, and trust was often in short supply.
"And?" prompted Jon.
"And while I was in the area, I went back to the old land claim," she informed Jon. "Law of Contagion, and all... I was able to track a faint aura back to Southshore." She took a large gulp of her wine. "I lost it there... but my best guess would be that they left the area, maybe to Stormwind? Pyrewood? Somewhere in Lordaeron? Of course, if that is the case then he's more than likely dead, or perhaps removed to Stormwind with all the other displaced refugees. Fel, for all I know he could be disguised as a Dwarf and living in the Hinterlands!"
Jon chuckled at the mental image. "Lots of people died, but I'll look around and see what I can find."
"I'd check with the other factions around the area. I didn't stick around long, but maybe someone remembers them passing through Southshore. At least that way you can narrow down what cardinal direction they fled."
In many ways, it would be a blessing if nobody remembered her brother passing through; as a rule, people only remembered trouble. Jon merely nodded; there was often quite a bit of fruitless inquiry, which is why Jon had made the sketch.
"Would you like to come with and direct?" Jon asked sarcastically.
"I would, but honestly, I'm scared too," Melissa confessed, her agitation causing her to miss the sarcasm entirely. "There is a certain peace, knowing that everyone in your family is dead and that you have only yourself to look after. Its what helped me to do what I needed working for the Syndicate."
"So why go to look at all?" asked Jon curiously.
"Because it's eating me up, not knowing. Did I send my baby brother away, with only our frail mother to protect him straight into the maw of death? I didn't have to send him away, you know - he could have joined with me, they would have taken him in, young as he was."
"And ruined him," added Jon. The Syndicate would have warped the young fellow and grown him into a common thug, to be used and discarded at the whim of the brutal Syndicate leadership.
"So... will you do it? I'll pay whatever it takes - food, supplies, travel expenses." Melissa declared, and only Jon's familiarity with her allowed him to hear the underlying note of desperation.
"Assuming we can come to terms - I have a requirement, and it is non-negotiable," demanded Chess. "You need to stop poisoning yourself with the guilt that does not belong to you. You did not betray the Syndicate; they betrayed you. You did what you did to survive, and nothing more. You did not doom your brother and mother - King Aiden Perenolde did when he betrayed the Alliance by assisting the Horde in return for Alterac's promised safety. What you have is a bad case of survivor's guilt, nothing more - but in the long run, it will be just as fatal as a distillation of Deathweed."
"I'll work on it," promised the mage reluctantly. "Once I learn my brother's fate."
"Then I am engaged" promised the Agent of Cheese in return.
Melissa D'Arque nods, taking it all in. "I have something for you, then," she said, excusing herself and heading upstairs towards the sleeping room she had engaged. A short time later she descended the stairs, a roughed-up teddy bear in one hand, and a dull, green stone with veins of red the size of a robin's egg in the other. She handed the stone to Jon.
"And here I did not get you anything in return? Did I miss our anniversary?" Chess joked.
"Haha. No, these are to help in your investigations. The stone is actually made from blood... my blood. It should allow you to pick out my brother from all the other men of Alteraci descent out there."
"So.. a bloodstone? And the bear?"
"Darren's. From when he was a kid. So he knows who sent you." As she spoke, one of the button eyes detached and fell to the wooden inn floor.
Melissa snorted, amused.
"What is the bear's name?" Jon asked. Having grown up an orphan and refugee himself in the Stormwind Orphanage, he knew and respected the importance of a bear companion.
"I think it was something silly... Bobert... no, it was Bobet. He had trouble with 'R's," said Melissa.
Jon took the bear in hand, unconsciously cuddling the plush-toy "I will treat Bobet as if he was my own cyclopean child."
Melissa laughed at the absurdity of the ruthless Jon Chess cuddling a teddy bear. "I tried my best, OK? But I am no Sara Law."
"Which is all any of us can do," Jon reassured. "And come to that, Sara Law is no Melissa D'Arque, either. Do you have any idea of how many people you've saved with the information you've given SI:7?"
"Do you know how many lives I took under..." she began, and Jon could feel the bitterness in her voice poison her soul. She raised her hand, waving it as to dispel a noxious odor. "Sorry. Old new habit."
Jon stood, gulping the last of his tea and extending his hand to Melissa. "Come with me," he demanded.
"Okay," she said, taking his hand and allowing him to help her to her feet. Without a word, Jon led her past the bar and into the inn kitchen. As the supplier of cheese to the inn, the kitchen staff well knew who Jon was, and did not raise an eyebrow as he led her down the stairs to the wine cellar. He led her in the dark so that she would not stumble, until they were deep into the cellar and around a large set of casks of ale.
 |
| Melissa D'Arque |
They exited the keep and passed the martial training yard together.
"So, are we actually going to the ship, or would you mind if we went somewhere more comfortable?" asked Melissa to the rogue.
"I am at your disposal, Miss D'Arque," replied Jon. The evening air was a bit colder, and would no doubt be even more so on the docked ship. A pint of something wet, perhaps even something warmed, would not go amiss.
"The inn, then? I need a drink," said Melissa, her thoughts running along the same lines as Jon.
Together they climbed the small hill and entered the inn. Jon waved at the bartender on duty, a statuesque blonde woman named Lillian, whose strong, if not precisely pretty, features were dominated by an eyepatch covering her right eye. Lillian waved back as Jon directed Melissa to a table before heading for the bar, where he ordered some Dalaran Noir, a sweet white vintage, and a large mug of scaldingly-hot water for tea; Jon brought Swiftthistle in bulk whenever he was in Stormwind, and often indulged in a mix of the Swiftthistle and other herbs to make Thistle Tea, well-known for its ability to allow one to stay awake long into the shadow hours past midnight. He brought both drinks back to where Melissa had settled, her staff leaning against an unused chair.
"So... yes, you hear correctly - the Syndicate traitor has a brother," she began, taking a sip of her wine. "I'd like you to find him for me."
Jon hesitated a bit before responding. "Very well... I will look around and see what I can find." Jon had, upon occasion, been required to locate people who would rather stay hidden, often so that he could "remove them from the board" - assassinate them. Jon didn't think that the mage wished him to murder her brother, but the principle was the same.
"What do you need to begin?" Melissa asked.
"We'll get to that - but before we begin I need you to do me a favor," said Chess.
"I already owe you my life - what's a favor, in balance?" said Melissa wryly. Clearly, she still did not like the fact that she had managed to escape the Syndicate still alive only with his help.
"I want... I need you to stop calling yourself a traitor to the Syndicate," announced Jon.
"Because I should not be advertising my former ties, or because I am better than that?" the mage inquired, one eyebrow arched.
"Well, both, really - reminding people that you once worked for the Syndicate won't win you any friends," Jon said, understating the reactions most people would have towards the Syndicate. The Syndicate was a criminal organization made up of former nobles and mercenaries of Alterac, who had turned to crime and terrorism against their traditional enemies of Stromgarde after the Alliance had razed their kingdom for betraying the Alliance to the Horde.
"I object to you calling yourself a traitor - you did not betray the Syndicate, the Syndicate betrayed you by forcing you to join the Argus Wake, either as a member of their foul cult or as a sacrifice to fuel their powers." The Argus Wake were shadow mages in Alterac allied with the Syndicate. They had encouraged and helped the Syndicate to take control over much of the ruins of Stromgarde in the nearby Arathi Highlands. The city was a deadly battlefield between the Syndicate, ogres and the remaining humans of Stromgarde. Jon knew that the Argus Wake planned to use the city to prepare the way for the Third Host of the Burning Legion, Sargaras' destroying army of demons. "They broke the bonds of loyalty first; you owed them nothing."
Melissa nodded absently as he pondered is words.
"And you owe me nothing for helping you escape their reach - killing Syndicate thugs is its own reward. Plus, you can never relax your vigilance; they have a long reach. So quit telling them where to find you." Jon grinned. "I would hate to see all of my hard work in getting you away from them go to naught."
Melissa chuckled at that. "That's fair enough, though you will notice that we are essentially alone now. She motioned around them to the empty common room of the inn. Lillian would wander in and out to speak with the cook, but that was all. "Tell me, would you not say you owe your sponsor, Trias? He set you upon the path you walk now?" asked Melissa, interested in Jon's answer.
"I will always be grateful to Trias for the opportunity he has offered me... but I am the fellow who bled at Ravenholdt, and who bleeds in service to Theramore," said Jon - Melissa D'Arque was one of the few who knew that Jon was not a mere mercantile Agent of Cheese as he professed, but was a privy agent who worked for Jaina Proudmoore, a spy and assassin for Theramore.
"Hmm," said Melissa. She would have to give Jon's argument more serious contemplation.
"So..." said Jon, changing the subject. "Tell me about your brother?"
Melissa hesitated for a second, almost as if caught flat-footed at the change in subject. "Honestly, I could not tell you much. The last time I saw him, he was clutching some toy in one hand, and pulling our mother out of the house with the other. It was not a hard choice to join the Syndicate - we'd been slowly starving, with Mother going without entirely so that we could have something. Of course, the Syndicate promises of food and protection turned out to be all lies - but it was them, slow starvation, or a fast death at the hands of the Horde."
"So he would be what, twenty years of age now? Younger?" asked Jon.
"Must be, by now. Same hair color as me, but different eyes," answered Melissa.
Jon took a sketchbook and a small wooden case containing several charcoal pencils, and began to sketch, using Melissa's features as a guide, but making the facial features harder, more masculine. "So... maybe something like this?" he said, showing the sketch to Melissa.
"About that, yeah," confirmed the mage. "But he should have a little scar here," she said, indicating the left side of the chin, "from when we played at the nearby cliffside."
Jon made a minute adjustment to the sketch. "Like so?"
"Hmmm... yeah, that is probably as close as you can get."
"And where did you last see him?"
"Like I said when I forced him to run before the Syndicate arrived. I know he wouldn't be likely to have gone very far from Alterac, though," Melissa added. "He's not in Hillsbrad or Arathi, from what I can tell." Jon remained silent, taking her pronouncement with a grain of salt. He may not have been there at the time, but things evolve over time. "I went back to look, shortly after you got me employment with the Blackbird Ring." Introducing Melissa to the Blackbirds had been an easy decision since Melissa had worked for a criminal enterprise before and knew the kinds of magic such organizations used.
"Law wanted more proof regarding the Argus Wake, you see." Sara Law was a childhood friend of Matthias Shaw, and Shaw often employed her in for both her skills as a tailor and as an intermediary, he could trust; the sad truth about most SI:7 operatives is that they lied for a living, and trust was often in short supply.
"And?" prompted Jon.
"And while I was in the area, I went back to the old land claim," she informed Jon. "Law of Contagion, and all... I was able to track a faint aura back to Southshore." She took a large gulp of her wine. "I lost it there... but my best guess would be that they left the area, maybe to Stormwind? Pyrewood? Somewhere in Lordaeron? Of course, if that is the case then he's more than likely dead, or perhaps removed to Stormwind with all the other displaced refugees. Fel, for all I know he could be disguised as a Dwarf and living in the Hinterlands!"
Jon chuckled at the mental image. "Lots of people died, but I'll look around and see what I can find."
"I'd check with the other factions around the area. I didn't stick around long, but maybe someone remembers them passing through Southshore. At least that way you can narrow down what cardinal direction they fled."
In many ways, it would be a blessing if nobody remembered her brother passing through; as a rule, people only remembered trouble. Jon merely nodded; there was often quite a bit of fruitless inquiry, which is why Jon had made the sketch.
"Would you like to come with and direct?" Jon asked sarcastically.
"I would, but honestly, I'm scared too," Melissa confessed, her agitation causing her to miss the sarcasm entirely. "There is a certain peace, knowing that everyone in your family is dead and that you have only yourself to look after. Its what helped me to do what I needed working for the Syndicate."
"So why go to look at all?" asked Jon curiously.
"Because it's eating me up, not knowing. Did I send my baby brother away, with only our frail mother to protect him straight into the maw of death? I didn't have to send him away, you know - he could have joined with me, they would have taken him in, young as he was."
"And ruined him," added Jon. The Syndicate would have warped the young fellow and grown him into a common thug, to be used and discarded at the whim of the brutal Syndicate leadership.
"So... will you do it? I'll pay whatever it takes - food, supplies, travel expenses." Melissa declared, and only Jon's familiarity with her allowed him to hear the underlying note of desperation.
"Assuming we can come to terms - I have a requirement, and it is non-negotiable," demanded Chess. "You need to stop poisoning yourself with the guilt that does not belong to you. You did not betray the Syndicate; they betrayed you. You did what you did to survive, and nothing more. You did not doom your brother and mother - King Aiden Perenolde did when he betrayed the Alliance by assisting the Horde in return for Alterac's promised safety. What you have is a bad case of survivor's guilt, nothing more - but in the long run, it will be just as fatal as a distillation of Deathweed."
"I'll work on it," promised the mage reluctantly. "Once I learn my brother's fate."
"Then I am engaged" promised the Agent of Cheese in return.
Melissa D'Arque nods, taking it all in. "I have something for you, then," she said, excusing herself and heading upstairs towards the sleeping room she had engaged. A short time later she descended the stairs, a roughed-up teddy bear in one hand, and a dull, green stone with veins of red the size of a robin's egg in the other. She handed the stone to Jon.
"And here I did not get you anything in return? Did I miss our anniversary?" Chess joked.
"Haha. No, these are to help in your investigations. The stone is actually made from blood... my blood. It should allow you to pick out my brother from all the other men of Alteraci descent out there."
"So.. a bloodstone? And the bear?"
"Darren's. From when he was a kid. So he knows who sent you." As she spoke, one of the button eyes detached and fell to the wooden inn floor.
Melissa snorted, amused.
"What is the bear's name?" Jon asked. Having grown up an orphan and refugee himself in the Stormwind Orphanage, he knew and respected the importance of a bear companion.
"I think it was something silly... Bobert... no, it was Bobet. He had trouble with 'R's," said Melissa.
Jon took the bear in hand, unconsciously cuddling the plush-toy "I will treat Bobet as if he was my own cyclopean child."
Melissa laughed at the absurdity of the ruthless Jon Chess cuddling a teddy bear. "I tried my best, OK? But I am no Sara Law."
"Which is all any of us can do," Jon reassured. "And come to that, Sara Law is no Melissa D'Arque, either. Do you have any idea of how many people you've saved with the information you've given SI:7?"
"Do you know how many lives I took under..." she began, and Jon could feel the bitterness in her voice poison her soul. She raised her hand, waving it as to dispel a noxious odor. "Sorry. Old new habit."
Jon stood, gulping the last of his tea and extending his hand to Melissa. "Come with me," he demanded.
"Okay," she said, taking his hand and allowing him to help her to her feet. Without a word, Jon led her past the bar and into the inn kitchen. As the supplier of cheese to the inn, the kitchen staff well knew who Jon was, and did not raise an eyebrow as he led her down the stairs to the wine cellar. He led her in the dark so that she would not stumble, until they were deep into the cellar and around a large set of casks of ale.
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