Noxblade - Sweet, Sweet Mistress Sweetflame (WIP)

Silvermoon

It was always strange travelling to Silvermoon City. Located in the north part of the romantically-named Eversong Woods, its architecture was, for the most part, as much a work of art as it was science. The Blood Elves put a lot of work into creating a space of beauty and comfort, where indulgence (or more accurately, over-indulgence) was the order of the day.  Magical automatons roamed the streets, keeping order while the tall, slender, beautiful Sin'dorei promenaded at a slow, languorous pace, exuding peace and tranquility that the rest of us mere mortals could not hope to achieve.

It made me want to toss my cookies.  Everything was "just so", everything was perfect... or banished from view. Much of the western half of the city was still in ruins from when Arthas Menethil had led an army of the undead Scourge, transformed the fallen Ranger-General Lady Sylvanas Windrunner into one of his undead minions, and sackewd the city after the Sunstrider ruling family had deserted ahead of the oncoming force, fleeing to the Isle of Quel'Danas.

But y'know... details.  After Arthas retreated, the Sin'dorei re-occupied the city and sealed all evidence of their defeat behind walls. Out of sight, out of mind; after all, reclaiming the ruins would have taken something like hard work and manual labor, something that the Sin'dorei didn't have the time for, not when there was Blood Thistle to consume, wine to be drunk, and poetry to write.

Given their delicate sensitivities, I was always amazed that they let goblins into Silvermoon at all. 

Diplomatic niceties aside, even if goblins were not generally allowed in Silvermoon, I had a free pass; a week ago I had gotten a letter with a pouch of gold for travelling expenses, a delicate creme-colored paper covered in pretty purple calligraphy, asking if I would be willing to come and take a job. 

Stavros Noxblade, P.I.

My name is Noxblade, and I am the finest, smartest, most discrete private investigator in all of Booty Bay. The fact that I am also the only private investigator in Booty Bay has nothing to do with it... anyways, my money pouch was mostly copper and silver, with gold a mere memory of better days, so I headed down to the docks to catch the next ship to Ratchet, where I hired a wyvern to the Horde capitol city of Ogrimmar, From there, I took a mage portal to Silvermoon. 

Mage portals aren't cheap, but hey - its not like I was paying.

I arrived in Silvermoon and found my way to the address on the letter; a townhouse just off the Walk of the Elders. I rapped my knuckles on the on the double-doors tall enough for a pair of ogres to stand in without bumping their heads. After what seemed an inordinate amount of time, the doors opened and a tall, slender... well, its not like they made Blood Elves any other way.  He was dressed in a tuxedo, which I guess is what passes for proper attire for a butler. He glared at me over this pointed, aristocratic nose.

I did not say a word - I just returned his stare.  One of the most annoying things about Sin'dorei society was that the person of lower status was obligated to be the first one to speak, and there was no frigging way I was going to talk before one of the servants.

"This is the Sweetflame residence," the butler finally said. "The servant's entrance is at the back."

"Good to know, Jeeves," I said, smiling nastily at the fellow.  "I am here at the express invitation of Lyrenestra Sweetflame."

The butler gave a frown and then held out an empty silver tray.  I stared at it and looked back at him.

"Your calling card, sir?" asked the servant.

"My what?"  

"Your... never mind sir." He stepped back and opened the door so that I could enter the vestibule. "I shall inform Mistress Sweetflame that you have arrived. Perhaps you would like to wait in the library?"

"Sure... " I said, wondering if he thought that I could be trusted not to steal a book while he told his boss I was here.  If they left valuable books unsecured in the library, they were almost begging for someone to walk off with them, the rubes. Still, one didn't start a professional relationship by stealing from the employer before you did the job and got paid.

If there was something worth stealing, I'd take it after the job was complete and got paid.

So I stood around like an idiot, looking for a book which looked like it might be worth stealing, but you know the old saying - You can't judge a book by the binding.  Stupid books were all written in Thalassian anyways.  For all I know, there were 200 cookbooks there, in the fancy leather librams. Eventually Jeeves - wouldn't it be a bloody Light-forbid miracle if the butler guy was actually named Jeeves? - opened the door for his mistress, who strode in like she owned the place.  

Oh wait, she did own the place.

Lyrenestra Sweetflame

"Master Noxblade, it was good of you to come all this way to speak with me," she said, bowing to me.

"Well, you did send travelling expenses, and since I couldn't afford the return postage, so here I am," I answered honestly.

She chuckled. "I am Lyrenestra Sweetflame. My understanding is that you are a Private Investigator, Master Noxblade?" The woman was tall and slender, like all Blood Elves, and her ears were long and delicate. Her hair was piled in a bun atop her head, and was a deep red-orange. Her eyes glowed the green of mana addiction, like most Blood Elves, but her skin was flawless; whatever the state of her mana addiction, it was mild enough to leave no visible sign.

"Either that, or you've gone through a great deal of expense to bring over a laundry consultant..." A look of confusion passed over her face, and I decided to have mercy on her and stop being a jerk. Banishing my goblin accent, I spoke with clear diction, something which normally takes too much effort to bother with. "Yes, Madame Sweetflame, I am a private detective.  How may I be of service to your House?"

Madame Sweetflame relaxed; now I was acting in accord with her expectations, and all was right with her worldview. "I have a husband, Master Noxblade.  We married late in life, and while he has never been what one might call... overly amorous, over the last few years his distance from our conjugal bed has... increased." She looked away, seemingly ashamed at her confession; I think she thought that whatever was wrong with her husband was her fault.  

Sheer lunacy - she was beautiful.

"Madame Sweetflame, I must remind you, I am a Private Detective, not an Oculist; whatever deficiency of eyesight afflicts your husband, I cannot cure it," I said, sucking up a little to the client. It wasn't even a lie. I do know that many Sin'dorei and Kaldorei take up with other races, and I have heard the speculation that after centuries of beauty, some of them become bored with beauty, unsatisfied with perfection. I don't pretend to understand it, but that is what people smarter than me say.  

Idiots, all of them.  I will call it a blessing that goblins are about as far away from perfect beauty as it is possible to get and not have the race continue to breed, Light knows I never get tired of the look of women in all their aspects; unfortunately, the reverse is not true.  I have been informed on many occasions that my looks are... well, let us just say that my visage is not looked upon by women of all races with favor. My face has been compared to a hatchet, and told that if only my wits were as sharp as my nose, I'd be charming.  Bats envy the wingspan of my ears. Good thing I have my personality to fall back upon... which tells you what a spot I am in.

"What I want from you, Master Noxblade, is a report.  I suspect that my husband is seeking his carnal delights elsewhere, but I have no proof.  Follow him, Master Noxblade.  Find out to whom he speaks, with whom he spends his leisure time.  If he has a lover, I want as much details you can provide; names, places, frequency.  I want to know what he needs that I am not able to supply, myself."

"I can do that, I am quite adept at being overlooked," I said.  "Shall we start with a week's retainer, plus expenses and see how it goes? While I am perfectly happy to take your money, I want to make sure there is no misunderstanding while I am doing it - there may not be anything to find." I chuckled. "He might just be bored, and boring, as Fel, after all."

 "Agreed."

"Aren't you going to ask how much I charge?" I asked incredulously.

"Master Noxblade, I know precisely how much you charge; how do you think I found out who you were, and whether or not you could, racial inclinations notwithstanding, be trusted?" she said, her voice alive with laughter. "I had you thoroughly investigated before I sent you the letter - I will spare you the details, but the phrase which stood out was that you were 'unnaturally honest and discreet', and when I asked why that was the case, I was told that you have never betrayed a client."

"They flatter me - I just understand the nature of people who are paid to discover secrets don't live very long if they prove to be blabbermouths," I said truthfully. "I like happy clients."

"Excellent, then we understand each other, Mister Noxblade.  Go forth and make me happy.  Nastromo," by that I assume she meant the butler, "will see to your advance against expenses. Good day, Master Noxblade." I bowed as the butler came in, and he showed me out after gracing my palm with a pouch of gold.