Pitch: Meetings

Finally ready to get the pally into some RP! Here's Davoss' introduction.

(Also, 2 posts in one day, woot!)
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Pitch had intended to pass by the Stockades on his way to the Festival Bonfire, but whatever errand occupied his mind was forgotten when he heard the shouts and clash of steel coming from inside. Ducking through the nearest doorway, he paused as his eyes adjusted, then blinked at the scene before him. Several prisoners had apparently gotten out of their cells, and were trying to force past the guards. The guards were equally determined that none of the prisoners were getting away. Pitch immediately jumped in to help. The fighting was furious for a few minutes, but gradually the prisoners were either forced back into the main cells or beaten into senselessness.

The guard captain thanked Pitch for his help, then turned to a young man that Pitch had taken for another guard. He quickly realized he was wrong, as the captain extended thanks to him as well. "Was th' least I could do," he replied to the captain in a soft drawl, and Pitch's ears perked; the Northern accent was now familiar to him after all the time he had spent with the Riders. This fellow's accent was not very pronounced, but Pitch was certain that he was from Lordaeron.

He sat by the door and waited until the human was leaving as well, then he fell into step beside him. "That was pretty good fighting," he commented, and the young man's face lit up in a grin. "Thank ye," he said shyly. "I'm Pitch," the druid offered. The human stopped and extended a hand. "M'name's Davoss," he replied.

Pitch eyed the hand, then looked down to his own paws. Davoss followed his gaze, then grinned sheepishly. "Ah, sorry. No' used t' non-human types." Pitch shrugged and grinned back. "Not a problem. Hey, do you live around here or are you just passing through?" The... paladin, judging by the design of his armor and the hammer now slung on his back, blinked at his directness. "Uhh, passin' through fer th' now, but I've stayed around before fer longer." Pitch nodded as he studied the human. There was something oddly familiar about him, but the druid couldn't place what it was exactly. Finally he dismissed the feeling with a mental shrug.

"Do you visit taverns at all?" he asked casually. "I know some paladins don't drink, so no offense meant if you don't." Davoss quirked an eyebrow, and that feeling of recognition flared up again. "Aye, I'm a paladin, and I don't particularly 'ave anything against 'em."

Pitch nodded. "I know several people from Lordaeron that gather in the Pig and Whistle every now and then. You should stop by sometime, might meet someone you know." Davoss' expression turned thoughtful. "Might do that sometime. Light knows I've no' met that many others from th' North, with th' war an' all." He looked down at the druid and nodded. "Think I will when I got time. Thanks, mate." Pitch beamed. "Then I'll probably see you there sometime," he said cheerfully. "So til then, take care." Davoss nodded again, then went on his way.

His original mission forgotten, Pitch ambled toward the Park. Shaurria was probably there by now, and would likely be up for some wrestling or what-not. He had almost reached the entryway from the Canals when he suddenly realized why the paladin seemed so familiar.

Davoss had a remarkable resemblance to Arvoss.