Shalleck stared into her Foote Tripel, oblivious to the swells laughter and drunken shanties that crashed around the busy taproom. Her table began to shake as a pair of highly intoxicated dwarves began an impromptu jig on top of one of the tables. Her drink began to jump clumsily toward the table's edge, sloshing drips of her untouched ale onto her arms and face. She idly picked it up and took a drink.
She turned her head suddenly and stared into a dark corner, the only spot in the room not filled with revelers. "Chester. Nice of you to join me." She set down her drink and a dark haired man stepped suddenly from the shadows, chuckling.
"Not quite as oblivious as you look," his smile grew. "As usual."
"It's nice to see you too."
"How did you find me this time?"
She shrugged. "I said your name and you answered."
"Do you speak my name into every empty corner, just in case?"
She snorted. "Taverns this busy don't have empty corners. Not unless there's something there, subtly pushing everyone away."
He took the chair across from her and raised his glass with a flourish. "A gentleman doesn't push, even if he is a rogue. He merely… suggests an alternate path. To the unconscious mind, of course." He smiled. He felt a warm nose nudging his hand and he looked down. "You gave me away, didn't you?"
The bear pawed gently at his knee and he reached down to scratch its head. "It's good to see you two back in the city, although I hear you've already managed to get yourself into trouble."
She frowned at her beer. "News travels quickly in Stormwind."
"It does when it involves a member of one of our noble houses."
She looked up, eyes sparking. "He's a thief. He'll pay for what he's done. I'll see to that, even if Ironforge doesn't."
"Ironforge certainly won't. and neither should you. He may be nothing, but his family is something. His father was Amien of the Glade, a son of the Sternchaser family." He smiled slightly. "I'm surprised he didn't mention it."
She grimaced. "He did. I'm concerned with his actions, not his pedigree."
"Arthur is a dirty dish by any standard. His family barely acknowledges him, but he is still family. They'll do what they need to do to hush this up. They'll put pressure on Ironforge. And Ironforge won't risk a political incident over a crate of artifacts. Artifacts which…" He paused and shifted in his seat. "You know, one might suggest that up until now you weren't exactly," he paused, looking for the right word, "passionate about archeology."
Her hands tightened around her stein. She stared into its contents, her face taught. She could feel Chester's shrewd gaze burning into her.
He continued. "But this isn't just a crate of artifacts to you, is it? This is personal."
She continued staring for a moment, then nodded once. "It was my father's research."
Chester leaned back and whistled softly. "They took the old man's research? Why?"
She shook her head and finally looked up at him, her eyes troubled. "I don't know. It wasn't valuable to anyone but my father. Everyone in the Explorer's League assumed the thief was just incompetent; that he broke into the archives picked up the first crate he found."
"What did your father think?"
She looked back into her stein, and spoke so quietly Chester had to lean forward to hear her. "He didn't say anything."
Chester's eyebrows shot up, but he left her to her silence for a moment. Suddenly it all made more sense. If her father's research had been crated up and put in storage it could only mean one thing. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "He was a good man."
She nodded. "Thank you. It was one of his experiments that got him. She laughed softly. "Of course. What else would it be?" She took a drink, and fiddled aimlessly with the handle of her stein. "He said he was close to a break-through. He just needed to go to Un'Goro one last time. My mother never imagined that it might actually be his last trip," she took another drink. "She donated his research to the Explorer's League, but of course no one wanted it. It went into storage."
She could almost hear his curiosity working through everything she said. She laughed softly. "No searching questions? You've changed."
He grinned back at her and shrugged. "Life of a rogue. The art of being silent and all that."
"A lesson I somehow don't believe you've mastered, as much as you'd like to think so. But to answer the question you so carefully didn't ask, I saw him last Winter Veil. He wrote me a letter asking me to come. He said he didn't want my mother to be overworked preparing the feast."
Ches placed his chin on one hand. "Your mother? Cooking?"
She laughed. "Not a very convincing liar, was he? But I appreciated the note," she paused and continued carefully: "The truth was that I missed him too." She looked up, smiling in mock pride. "You see? I can express myself. That's what I've learned since you saw me last."
Ches laughed and raised his drink to her in asalute, then jumped up suddenly as a drunken gnome crashed into the side of the table and landed on the floor, out cold. The singing was overtaken by the roars of laughter from his friends.
"Come on," Ches said. "This isn't the place to discuss anything. They wove their way out of the bar, followed by a few cat-calls which were quickly silenced when Shalleck's bear turned his head in their direction.
She pulled her cloak around her face, as much to protect from the sudden chill as the smell of damp refuse and vomit that surrounded the tavern.
"Alright then," he said as he took her arm and steered her toward the Old Town. "Why?"
She glanced up at him. "Why what?" she mumbled through the folds of her cloak. She saw he was transforming and couldn't help watching. His human skull grew into a longer, square head and his body grew and out into the larger, harrier form she was used to seeing him in. He dropped to all fours and padded silently beside her, his head now at eye level.
"You've gotten much better at that," she observed.
"I've been practicing in front of a mirror," he told her.
She chuckled slightly, then fell silent.
They nodded to the guards at the canal bridge.
"King's honour, friend," one of them mumbled sleepily.
She listened to the water sloshing against the sides of the canal, and the swish of her companion's armour as he walked. She breathed deeply of damp air and stone and the faint scent of ozone from the purifying spells on the water.
"What was Ironforge's official response to the theft?" He asked.
"There hardly was one," she told him. "As I said, no one really wanted his research anyway. They didn't even realize it was missing until they found the broken wards and did an inventory. I think they were mostly just relieved that nothing else was taken."
"Shalleck!" An angry voice called from across the canal.
Ches jumped, his hackles involuntarily rising.
"Shalleck Ironbrand! I insist you speak to me."
Shalleck sighed, and looked at Ches. "I think you're about to hear Ironforge's response for yourself." She turned to meet a greying old dwarf wearing worn leather armour and a fierce scowl. He stopped when he reached her and looked her over, his scowl softening.
"Well met, young Shalleck." He greeted Ches briefly and turned back to Shalleck. "You're looking well, though thinner than your mother would like to see."
"Seamus," she couldn't help but smile as she embraced the man. "How is mother?"
He released her and nodded gruffly. "Well enough. She'd be better if she saw more o' you," the scowl overtook his features again. "An' she'd be much better an' she never learned o' what you've been up to here!"
"Seamus, this man is a thief. I will have my father's things back from him!"
"I suppose-" His angry expostulation was cut off by the banging of an upper window and a loud' injunction to mind the hour and let honest citizens rest. Seamus took her arm and pulled her toward Cathedral Square. Chester kept pace, still in worgen form. "I suppose you think you think you're bein' heroic?" Seamus Brasstrowel whispered fiercely at her, pulling on her arm. "Do you have any idea what you're doin' to the Explorer's League?"
She turned her head sharply "What I'm doing?" she hissed back. "And what are you doing for the Explorer's League by covering your eyes and letting a thief run free because you're afraid of his Poppa?"
Seamus' face turned an even darker red. "Young lady, no one is more upset than I am that your father's research was taken. In fact, I'm not sure why you're so concerned-" he broke off and harrumphed.
"Well, even if Arthur did take it, do you really think you're going to get it back? His family will hush this up quicker than a ram can butt a dog."
"Even if he did? Seamus, he has the crystal. I've seen it. And he lied about where he'd been."
"Yes, yes, I know about the sand. So he lied about Tanaris. I'm sure a man like Arthur Sternchaser lies about whatever he wishes. That doesn't mean he was in Ironforge!"
"Surely someone from Ironforge could identify him?"
"Ha! No one who values his reputation. You don't know this family, Shalleck."
"So we let him get away with theft?"
"Yes." Seamus said bluntly. "You don't know what you're getting into. If he did take your father's research, do ye think he'll keep it around? Does he look like the kind o' man to carry around a great box o' papers for some light readin'? Shalleck, this must end," Seamus voice rose again into an angry. "You don't know what you're getting yourself- and us- involved in."
"Well, well," said a smooth voice behind them. "It seems we do agree on something, dwarf." Arthur's cousin, Sir Percival, stood in a side doorway of City Hall, idly rubbing the tip of his staff against his cheek. "So, Raving Ravicks' daughter decided to take up her father's pick-axe." He sauntered over to them. Shalleck stiffened, flexing her fingers toward her bow. She felt a pressure on her elbow and spared a scathing glance for Ches, who shook his head warningly at her. Sir Percival laughed. "And it seems the pup and I agree on something as well," he cut off her reply. "No. Not here in the open street," his brow wrinkled in concern, "think of the children." He shrugged a shoulder toward the darkened orphanage.
"What do you want, Sir Percival?" Seamus asked gruffly.
"You know, we all had such high hopes for you when you split with the old man," he told Shalleck kindly. "His work was trivial at best. Dangerous at worst-but where are my manners? I'll say no more of that."
"How do you know my father?" Shalleck stepped toward him, and was dragged back by Seamus.
"I know everyone, of course," Sir Percival replied.
"If you have nothing important to say to us, Sir Percival, it's time we take our leave." Seamus told him, pulling on Shalleck's arm.
Sir Percival smiled. "I know Lieutenant Archen, for example. I know the Magistrate. I know his family. Who do you know, I wonder? You could not even get a proper representative from Ironforge," he glanced dismissively at Seamus. "Go back to your dirt and rocks, old man. This is no place for you."
Sir Percival walked away without farewell, as if suddenly losing interest in the conversation. Shalleck watched him go, suddenly aware that she was shaking. She could hear Seamus breathing heavily, and his fingers had begun to dig into her arm.
"Shalleck!" Seamus barked. She closed her eyes, carefully taking deep breaths. "Come with me." He led her briskly through the streets. She wished he would let her go. All she needed was some silence. Perhaps they were right. Maybe for all their sakes she did need let this go. She ground her teeth at the thought.
"Seamus, wait." She pulled her arm away.
"Don't dawdle! We have a long way to go before mornin'." He started off down the walk.
She stared after him in surprise. "Pardon?"
"Well, hurry up!" He waved her along. "If we're going to serve that good-fer-nothin' a little of his own, we'll need some help." He chuckled dryly into his beard.
"But where are we going?"
"The Mages Quarter. Maginor Dumas owes me a favor. Several, actually. But a well placed portal there and back an' I might call in even."
"Portal? To where?"
"Uldum, of course. If we're going to do this, we'll need solid proof, an' if I'm not mistaken there's only one man who can help us."