Chess was in the common room of the Pig & Whistle Tavern in Stormwind, talking with one of the injured he had treated at the ERU clinic in Stormwind near the Cathedral this morning; the clinic had not been staffed, and Jon had responded to a call for help. A woman had collapsed on the stairs to the clinic. Chess had cut short his recon mission and responded, teleporting to Dalaran and then using the permanent portal to Stormwind. He had treated the woman, and two or three more who had shown up while he as busy with the first patient. Chess had treated the Dranei woman for a hairline horn fracture, using plaster and silk bandages to reinforce and stabilize the horn until the woman could seek proper care. The lady had been a dancer at Stilletos, an underground gentleman's club, and she had invited Jonathan to come and see her work.
His new client was a Ren'dorei woman, clad in black, tight leggings held up by a garter, and brief shorts. She wore a matching black bare-midriff top, with a rifle slung over her shoulder. She was as slender and strong as a fencing blade, and Chess had no doubt she could prove just as deadly.
"Master Chess?," she had inquired, her voice a dulcet caress that spoke of all the temptations to be found in the Void. "I would like to talk to you about a case?"
Chess had asked her to wait a short while, as he had been on his way to deliver a client report, but he promised to swiftly return. He returned to the Pig & Whistle to find her waiting.
"I'm all yours," Chess said, smiling.
"Is there somewhere else we could talk? Somewhere a little more private?" she asked. The request did not surprise Chess; his clients often had confidential issues.
"The Allied Detective Agency is nearby, we can use one of the rooms there. She nodded, and the two of them walked across the canal bridge to the Dwarven District, where the Allied Detective Agency offices were located.
The offices were reasonably comfortable, but his client insisted on even more privacy. Chess nodded, and led the client to one of the upstairs rooms. The Agency maintained bedrooms for operatives who were working late, or clients who needed a quick and secure place to stay.
Chess led her to the room he sometimes used when he was too tired to go home. He shut the door and leaned against the nearby wall. "Now, how can I be of help, Miss...?"
"You may call me Dye," she said, crossing over to the four-poster bed dominating the chamber. She set her her rifle aside, and undid her cloak clasp, putting the cloak and gloves on the bed before perching herself comfortably on the foot board. Her legs crossed over one another, and she planted her hands planted behind her, leaning back on them.
"So... to begin with, I'm no wilting waif. Honestly this is the sort of thing I'd have handled for others in Silvermoon; however, I lack the familiarity with Stormwind to even begin to run this down, and given its personal nature to me, I doubt I could do so with the impartial efficiency I require.," she informed Chess.
She sighed, and continued. "I live something of a..." She pauses to consider her next words. "...hedonistic lifestyle. It took some time, but once I started getting used to Stormwind, and realized my duties were at an end, well... I've been enjoying the pleasures the city has to offer." She calmly flipped her hair back, trying to keep it out of her face, sending waves of magenta cascading down her back.
She sighed again, biting her lower lip, looking thoughtful. Her lips were painted to match her magenta hair, and contrasted sharply with the white of her perfect teeth. Her elongated canine, a relic of long-distant Kaldorei ancestors, drew a single drop of blood.
"All of this is protected under... confidentiality, correct? Nothing will make it's way back to the guards?" she asked.
"Not the guards, not SI:7... not even the rest of the Agency, if required," Chess reassured her. "I stay in business because I mind my own."
"I would appreciate any discretion you can muster," she said, nodding slightly. "I've no desire to see the guards..." She trailed off a moment and flipped her hair out of her face once more.
"This past weekend involved some pretty... shall we say... exotic individuals. I believe that, unbeknownst to me, there were some illegal substances being passed around."
Jon's face froze; he was not about to admit his own addiction to the illegal Fel-based narcotic Sa'Diablo.
Dye tipped her head back, seeming to find it easier to stare at the bed's canopy than meet Chess' gaze. " I blacked out at some point, a practice I'm not- that isn't normal for me. When I awoke, I had been given a tattoo." She let out a slow breath. "I just wish to know who gave me the tattoo and how to remove it safely."
Jonathan nodded. "May I see the tattoo?"
Dye's skin flushed a bright blue with embarrassment. Slowly, reluctantly, she nodded. "I was afraid you would..." she confessed.
Uncrossing her legs, she pushed herself off the bed and onto her feet. slips her hands down to the skimpy little bottoms of her outfit, and, after closing her eyes for a long moment, slipped her hands down to the skimpy little bottoms of her outfit.
Eyes still closed, she took several deep breaths, and then lowered her shorts to mid-thigh.
