Pitch and Rheugan: Meeting

When I get the ball rolling, I really get it rolling. Sometimes, at least. *eyes other storylines*

Couple nights ago, just before Aely and Arrens' wedding. Woohoo, weddings!
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Pitch stepped into the darkened room at the Darnassus inn with a soft "Hello?" A low growl answered him, and he peered around until he spotted a dark huddle in the corner, behind the dresser. He took a step closer. "Rheugan, right?"

The reply was a sharp chuff. Pitch stopped, staring at the shape uncertainly. He could now make out a dark-colored cat- one shaped differently than a cat-formed Night elf- which was watching him warily. Pitch cleared his throat. "I'm Pitch," he tried again. "The, um, the Circle wanted you to talk to someone, right? That's me."

The cat twitched one ear, then moved out of his hiding place. As he did, his form grew larger, until Pitch found himself facing a large worgen instead of the cat. "What do you want, elf?" The worgen's voice was a harsh growl, deep and gutteral. Pitch blinked. "You're Rheugan?" The worgen eyed him without moving."... yes."

Pitch took that as encouragement. "I, uh, came to talk with you," he started, when Rheugan interrupted him with another growl. "About what?," he demanded. "They must have told you what I did. Have you come to kill me, elf?"

"No." Pitch's voice was firm, as was the headshake that followed. Acting on some instinct, the Kal'dorei unshifted, then walked over to the nearby table and perched on the bench. Rheugan's eyes followed him, the aggression in them replaced by uncertainty and something else, something Pitch couldn't identify. "Then what do you want?" he asked.

Pitch hesitated, then slowly stood up before answering. This was definitely not turning out how he had expected. "To.... try to save you, I suppose," he said cautiously.

"Save me?" The worgen looked at him in surprise, then let out a mirthless chuckle."You know what I am, don't you? Do you really want to save this?" He stepped closer, until the light coming in from the door illuminated him clearly.

He was very tall; he could look Pitch in the eye easily, even in his slightly hunched posture. The coarse black fur that covered him didn't completely hide the scars that crisscrossed his shoulders and chest under the ragged vest he wore. His left ear was gone, chewed down to a useless nub. And he stared at Pitch challengingly from green-gold eyes that glowed faintly. His wolfish muzzle curled, the growl turning into a full snarl.

Pitch stared back at him, unflinching. "If you can be saved, yes. Don't you want to be saved?" Rheugan blinked in surprise again, and the Night elf pressed his advantage. "Or did you want them to kill you?"

The worgen stood uncertainly, all aggression gone. His gruff voice sounded almost lost. "I... I don't know anymore." He stared back at Pitch, a hint of challenge returning. "Why?"

"Because," Pitch answered, then hesitated. There were some things in his own past that he had told nobody but his siblings, but he decided if he really wanted to help Rheugan, he had better go all the way. "... because I was in your paws, once," he finished, then waited.

Rheugan stared at him. Abruptly a shudder ran over him, then he... changed, and a small, ragged-looking human stood in his place. Clear blue eyes looked at Pitch with fearful hope. "Can... can you fix me?" he asked, with a hint of desperation. His human voice was surprisingly soft. "Really fix me?"

Pitch could understand the hope, and the fear as well. He wondered what exactly this young human had been through. "No. Not the way you're thinking," he answered Rheugan's question. "But I can teach you to control it." Rheugan nodded hesitantly, and Pitch waved him over as he sat back down. "Come sit down and tell me about it," he said gently. Rheugan crossed the room with surprising quickness, and once he was seated he began.

* * * * * *

"I grew up in Gilneas City," he told Pitch. "I loved it there.

"When the worgen attacked, everyone helped to defend the city. I.. don't remember when I was bitten. Probably the same time Crowley was." Pitch made a mental note to ask who Crowley was later- he was obviously someone important to Rheugan. "But after the fighting was over was when I... changed.

"I... found a pack to run with. I don't recall everything we did, but all I cared for was the hunt. They said I killed some of my friends. I don't know whether it's truth. They finally trapped me and some of my packmates. The rest of the pack fled or was killed.

"Lord Godfrey- he's some sort of alchemist for the King- he gave me a potion that brought back my senses. He said... he said that if I still had any humanity in me, I would live. If I turned out nothing but a beast, I would be killed. I heard that a lot, back then."

He paused, then sighed quietly. "It wasn't hard, at first, but Godfrey became more erratic as time passed and more of us turned up infected. My potion started to wear off, and I had to control myself, with no help. That's when the druids came. They... helped. And once I had the wolf in me under control, they offered to teach me druid shapeshifting."

Pitch cocked his head. "That's interesting. No human has ever been taught that. I thought it was something we just didn't share."

Rheugan looked thoughtful. "I think... maybe it was because we could already change shape. But to get back to my story. I..." He paused again to swallow. "It's hard to speak of it. Once I had learned what I needed, the wolf reawoke. It seemed I had two beasts fighting for control of me, the cat and the wolf."

"What about your bear?" Pitch asked him. "Any trouble from it?"

The small human shrugged. "At times. It mostly seems to sleep, only becoming difficult if I have to fight something. I try to avoid using it, for fear of it joining the fray." Pitch nodded his understanding, and he went on. "Crowley.... he helped us, many of us. And the elves that came. The female seemed especially interested. She's the one that interceded when I...."

Pitch looked apologetic. "Yea. I'm sorry, but can you tell me what happened?"

"I... I had just heard that Crowley had abandoned us to join the Forsaken. They ruined my homeland and took everything from me, from us. When I heard... I was, well, angry. I only wanted to find a spot of peace, and the cat challenged me. It went... out of control."

Pitch snorted, very softly. "I guess you could say that." Then he suddenly sat upright in his chair. He had lost track of time while he sat and listened to the younger druid, and he had almost forgotten something very important. He glanced toward the door, then back to Rheugan. "Rheugan, if I get you out of this room, could you come to Stormwind?"

Rheugan blinked, obviously startled by the change of topic. "I... I don't know.." Pitch gave him an apologetic look as he mentally smacked himself upside the head. Perhaps if he explained things first... "I want to talk more, but I have a wedding to get to," he told the other. Rheugan immediately brightened as he understood. "Oh! Right." "Will you come?" he pressed.

Rheugan still looked hesitant, but was clearly interested. "I.... yes, I will." Pitch suppressed a sigh of relief. "The Pig & Whistle tavern, in Old Town. Any guard should give you directions. And don't worry, I'll be there." The young man actually looked as relieved as Pitch felt as he answered. "All right then, Pitch."

Pitch offered a hand to the human. Rheugan eyed the hand, then shook it. Pitch grinned. "The wedding party will be there, so you may want to wait til it gets quiet." Rheugan nodded. "Right." Pitch nodded back cheerfully. "Okay, I'll get them to let you out, and I'll see you later."

He hopped to his feet and started out when Rheugan's soft voice made him pause. "Pitch? Thank you."

Pitch grinned back at him. "Welcome. Don't forget."

Pitch: Rheugan

I mentioned that my worgen druid Rheugan was going to get into some RP soon, mostly with Pitch. A few nights ago (last week I think?) I finally got the ball rolling.

Also, my sister's druid Jahira? Is awesome. Just saying.
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Jahira purrs at Pitchblàck.

Pitchblàck says: Hello! It's a nice tree, isn't it?

Alanón says: It is

Alanón says: Pitch, I have something to tell you

Jahira looks.

Pitchblàck says: ... and you don't think I'll like it, otherwise you wouldn't have brought my sister

Jahira blinks at Pitchblàck.

Pitchblàck eyes Jahira.

Jahira says: And why would you think that?

Alanón looks a tad uncomfortable.

Pitchblàck says: Because that's what he always does

Jahira says: Maybe I just wanted to come see the place my brother spends so much time?

Pitchblàck turns to eye Alanon.

Alanón says: I did ask her to come, yes

Pitchblàck says: See? So spill it

Alanón sighs at Pitch.

Windstar pricks her ears at the voices, blinking sleepily.

Alanón says: I was called back to Darnassus recently, for a meeting of the Circle

Pitchblàck blinks at Alanón.

Jahira starts spine-scritching.

Pitchblàck says: I thought they were pretending you don't exist?

Pitchblàck stretches a bit and starts purring.

Alanón says: They were, which is why I went. I wanted to see what they were up to

Pitchblàck nods.

Alanón says: You know of the worgen that we've recently welcomed into the Circle?

Pitchblàck says: Yes

Pitchblàck looks curious.

Alanón says: They.... have a special case on their hands

Alanón is beginning to look -very- uncomfortable.

Pitchblàck eyes Alanón suspiciously.

Pitchblàck says: .....and?

Autûmn glances at the druids on the railing.

Alanón says: Pitch....They have a feral worgen

Pitchblàck scowls, but listens.

Alanón says: He, ahh...

Alanón glances around the room. "He attacked one of the companion sabers and killed it."

Jahira winces slightly.

Alanón says: From what I understand, it was a dispute over dominance. When the guards interceded he turned on them. One of them was hurt badly. They don't know what to do-

Pitchblàck interrupts. "No."

Pitchblàck says: I won't do it. Not again

Alanón says: Pitch...

Pitchblàck says: NO!

Jahira says: Pitch...

Pitchblàck says: I TOLD you! Never again!

Jahira says: Please

Alanón says: Pitch listen to me!

Jahira says: Let him finish

Pitchblàck glares angrily at Alanón.

Alanón says: They don't want you to kill him

Pitchblàck blinks at Alanón.

Windstar raises her head, looking slightly alarmed.

Pitchblàck says: They.... don't?

Alanón says: They want to see if you can help him. I told a few of them your story, years ago

Pitchblàck blinks again.

Alanón says: They think his case is similar. They want you to try mentoring him

Pitchblàck looks like he's forgotten to breathe. "And if... I can't help?"

Alanón says: Then they will.... deal.. with him. You need not be involved with it

Jahira puts a reassuring hand on Pitch's shoulder.

Alanón says: But they would like to try to save him first

Pitchblàck says: I... What do they want me to do?

Alanón says: He's being held in Darnassus. Not in a cage.

Pitchblàck starts to glare but stops. "Mkay."

Alanón says: He is held in a room in an inn. Still a prison, but he's being treated as a person

Windstar peeks out from her 'den'.

Alanón says: It would probably be best if you met with him as soon as possible

Pitchblàck says: Mkay. I'll try to get over there in a day or two

Jahira smiles, looking relieved.

Alanón says: Thank you, Pitch

Alanón looks immensely relieved.

Pitchblàck eyes Alanón.

Pitchblàck says: Do you know anything else about him?

Alanón says: His name is Rheugan

Jahira starts spine-scratching again.

Alanón says: He is in his early twenties, so comparably about your age

Pitchblàck nods.

Alanón says: He apparently ran wild for a time before he became a druid .... as a wolf

Pitchblàck pricks his ears.

Pitchblàck says: So he was a worgen first

Alanón nods.

Alanón says: You can ask him about it when you meet him

Windstar is shamelessly eavesdropping.

Pitchblàck says: Mkay

Alanón says: I have to go, but I think I saw Lark heading this way

Pitchblàck brightens.

Pitchblàck says: Mkay. See you later, big brother

Alanón ruffles Pitchblàck's fur.

Alanón says: Good evening, little brother

Jahira says: Goodnight Alanon

Cataclysm Catchup

My cold has me by the ear and is dragging me around without mercy- once I got home from work today I actually spent all afternoon/evening in bed. But, since I haven't done any "catching up" posts since Cata went live, I figured I would cobble one together real quick.

First up, Lark is 85 already. I totally meant to level Turron first, so I could be ready when our guild starts raiding, but once I got on Lark she just kinda took over. I did get Turron to 81, at least, but I'm already planning on leveling Pitch and/or Barraccus next, so no idea when he's going to get finished. There is a bright side (not that the bad side is all that bad, but anyway)- Lark's guild is looking at possibly starting up raiding, so even if Turron gets neglected, I may be able to raid anyways. And on one of my favorite classes, too!

The only bad thing I'm seeing right now, in fact, is that the only decent weapon I've been able to find for her is a stupid gun. Blah.

Lark's been able to keep several of her pets up to her level, which has been great. Komah and Quiloe are already 85 with minimal playtime (stupid cold) and Saetta, her fox, is catching up. She has 2 tenacity pets as well, Seyvo the bear is waiting for his turn to level, and her newest addition, Kevo:
I hate spiders. Loathe, really. Arachnophobia doesn't even cover it. I am justifying her having a shale spider, however, because he looks more like a little stone crab. Crabs I can handle. Besides, he's a good little pet, and the squeaks he makes are adorable.

I'm working on coming up for a story for Saetta, because she will be an in-character pet. It's taking a backseat to my current Dav/Arvoss story, but it will be done eventually.

So other than Lark-stuff, I've also gotten Pitch up to 81 already. Rested xp is a wonderful thing. And besides that, I've been tinkering on my worgen. Meet Rheugan.


He's a druid (yes, another one!) and I will be working him into some RP, mostly with Pitch, as Pitch will be mentoring him. Rheugan is a bit messed up right now, but he's a good kid, and I think it'll be fun seeing what I can put him through. Also, worgen cat form, rawr.


I loved the worgen starting zone, and am already thinking of what toon to start next just so I can go through it again. I'll make a goblin eventually, but for now the worgen have my attention.

Can't think of anything else to add, so til next time Happy Hunting!

Arvoss: Heading Out

Doing this one in 2 parts because 1. Cataclysm stuff is making it hard to concentrate, and 2. I just caught a cold, and brain will likely be muddled for the next week or two. Hopefully I'll still be able to finish this up, but I don't know how long it'll be now.

Urgh, hate colds.

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"You're insane."

Arvoss suppressed his sigh. Lark just stared at him incredulously. "You know what they did out there. Your son and I don't know how many others are missing or dead because of it. And you want to go out there alone?" She shook her head vehemently. "Not going to happen."

"Lass," Arvoss said softly. "Ye cannae stop me. Ah've got ta find out wha' 'appened t' Dav, but Ah'm nae riskin' annehone else's life fer it."

"So you're just going to sacrifice yourself?" Lark pulled out her buzzbox and flipped it on. "We'll see what everyone else thinks."

She made the mistake of not watching him, and he snatched it out of her hands in an instant. His voice became a trifle harder. "Lass, Ah willnae let ye do this. Ah'll be jes' fine, or are ye fergettin' wha' Ah am?"

Lark eyed him, then finally sighed and threw up her hands. "At least take one other, just so you have someone to watch your back. Pitch, for example. I'm sure he can take care of himself out there."

Arvoss shook his head. "Nae, Ah'll nae take yer lad. 'e'll most like need t' be 'ere fer Shaur, anyrate, t' keep 'er fra chasin' afteh me. An' Ah'll nae take yerself, either, sae dinnae ask."

She sighed again, then brightened. "All right, how about Windstar or her brother? They can take care of themselves as well, and that way I can be certain you'll get back safely. Even if they have to drag you back."

Arvoss gave an amused snort. "A'righ', lass. Ah'll call up Star oan mah way out o' th' city. Ye 'appy naow?"

He turned to leave, only to be stopped by Lark's hand on his arm. She gave him a wickedly triumphant grin. "You can call her right now. Or did you forget that you're still holding my buzzbox?"

Davoss: Lost

This one was delayed a bit by AAAAHHHCATACLYSM!! and worgen and new zones and.... well, you get the idea. But here it is finally!

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By the middle of the next day, Davoss knew he was in trouble. The infection had returned with a vengeance, and he felt sick and feverish. To top it off, he realized he had followed the river too far and missed the path to Chillwind. He stood on the riverbank, weaving slightly on his feet, and tried to think of what to do through his muddled brain.

The wound in his stomach still oozed, the makeshift bandage around his middle now stained with fresh blood and pus. The infection brought a raging thirst with it, and he feared to leave the river, his only source of water. He hadn't eaten since before his patrol the morning before- not that he felt the least bit hungry with the sickness spreading through him, but it was one more thing weakening him.

Finally he stumbled onward, still following the river, no longer fully aware of what he was doing, the urge to find help, to move, pushing him on. He did manage to cross the river, then a little farther on he had to stop again as he reached the shore of Caer Darrow. He stood and stared at the lake in mild confusion, then simply turned westward and followed the shore. There had to be people around somewhere, he just had to find them.

He made his slow, painful way onward, toward Andorhal.

* * * * * *

Arvoss sat at home brooding. The news that his son was most likely lost still sat heavily on him, but Lark's words were starting to sink in, putting thoughts and ideas in his head. He knew he wouldn't be able to find any peace until he knew for certain what had happened to Dav, even if he was too late to do anything.

Finally he got up and started rummaging around the house, filling a pack. Shaurria looked up from her favorite cushion with a sleepy mew, and he paused to smile at her reassuringly. "S' nothin', lass. Jes' got sommat t' do. Willnae take long, then Ah'll be back, dinnae fret." The druid blinked at him, then gave a brief purr and laid her head back down, satisfied.

Pack ready, he left the house and retrieved Shade from the nearby stable. Then he rode the deathcharger out toward the Pig. Might as well let someone know where he was going, just in case.

Davoss: Fields of Grief

Lark wasn't the only one to have a rough time at the Shattering. Yeesh.
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The clerk didn't look up as Arvoss stepped up to the desk, his eyes glued to the paper he was looking over. "Name and business?" he asked briskly.

Arvoss swallowed nervously. "Ah'm lookin' fer information oan a partic'lar paladin, sah," he said.

"Paladin's name?"

"Davoss Torbrynn, sah."

"And your relation to Sir Davoss?" pressed the clerk, who still hadn't looked up.

Arvoss hesitated. "Ah'm... Ah'm 'is da," he finally said softly.

"Sir Davoss' father has been deceased for some ti-" The clerk finally looked up, only to cut himself off as he met the shining blue eyes of the death knight. He cleared his throat. "I see," he said tactfully. He stared at Arvoss, not exactly unfriendly but not encouraging either.

After a few awkward moments Arvoss cleared his own throat. "Look, naow," he told the clerk. "Ah'm nae aftah anneh trouble, ye ken? Ah'd jes' like t' 'ear 'ow mah boy's been doin' then Ah'll be out o' yer 'air."

The officiary blinked, then seemed to consider for a second. "Well then," he said, seeming satisfied. "Let's see here." He began shuffling through another stack of papers, then pulled one out and scanned it. Arvoss peered at it as he read. "Sir Davoss was stationed in Southshore some weeks ago," he told Arvoss after a moment, then he blinked again. He cleared his throat again as he set the paper down, then looked up at the death knight. "He, ah, hasn't been seen or heard from since the Forsaken attack," he said with a touch of compassion. "I'm sorry, sir."

Arvoss just stood still at first, then he slowly raised his eyes to meet those of the clerk. His expression had gone... hollow was probably the best way to describe it. His voice was a hoarse whisper. "Sae tha's it, then? Ye say 'e's gone?"

The clerk looked down at the paper again- it was easier than continuing to meet those eyes. "The report doesn't say, sir. It might be that he just hasn't been able to send word yet- communications are still down in some places. But... it doesn't look good, I'm afraid."

Arvoss nodded. Suddenly he looked very, very old. He rested one hand on the desk for a moment. "Thank ye, lad." Then he turned and slowly made his way out of the Cathedral.

* * * * * *

Two weeks earlier...

Davoss steered his charger back toward Southshore absently, going over the report he would give in his head. He had been sent out to look for brigands, and had found them up in the Alterac headlands, far too close for comfort. The magistrate would likely want to send out a force to deal with them. Dav wondered if he would be picked to go.

Thorn suddenly snorted and came to a stop, tossing his head. Dav patted the gelding's neck, then got him going again. But the horse only went a few more steps before halting again, eyes rolling. Davoss looked up ahead to see what had spooked him. That's when he saw the plaguewagons.

He pulled Thorn off to the side, into a stand of trees, and dismounted. Tethering the horse, he slowly crept up on foot, just in time to see the bombing start. He watched in horror as the Forsaken overran Southshore, killing anyone that tried to escape- only the knowledge that he would be killed just like the others kept him from rushing out to fight. Instead, he made himself watch as long as he could. Once it became too much for him to handle, he forced himself to go back to Thorn and mount. Then he spurred the horse into a gallop, heading away from the carnage as fast as he could.

The screams died down in his ears, and soon he slowed the horse, looking around to try and get his bearings. He realized that he was nearing the Fields, and decided that was as good a place as any to get back and make a report on what had happened.

The smell was what warned him. A stiff breeze brought the acrid scent of death and chemicals to both his nose and Thorn's. The charger tossed his head again, snorting, as Dav slowly forced him closer to the Fields. Once he was close enough to see what the Forsaken had made of it, he quickly turned his horse's head and rode away, again.

Once he judged he was a safe distance away, he pulled his mount to a stop and tried to think. The only two options he saw were to either go north up the river to Chillwind and catch a gryphon there, or head to the Wall and Arathi, then to Refuge Point. He judged Refuge Point would be marginally closer, plus there would be little Forsaken presence once he got past Thoradin's Wall. He sent Thorn off at a quick trot.

He found himself dodging Forsaken patrols as he passed by Southshore again, then made it to the river and crossed. Once past that, he spurred Thorn into a gallop again. They reached the Wall, and he pulled Thorn into a sudden halt. He stared in dismay at the Forsaken camp planted squarely across his road home, then turned the weary charger again and headed north and west, back to the river. He hoped the way to Chillwind was clear.

It happened in a brief lapse of attention. He was riding past an abandoned tower when a scourgehook suddenly flew out and wrapped around Thorn's neck, then yanked them both back. Davoss heard the horse's neck snap- the poor beast didn't even have time to scream. Dav managed to throw himself clear of the horse as they flew through the air, landing several yards away from the abomination. He lay still, hoping the undead monster would think him dead and take its time getting to him, and it seemed his hopes were granted as the thing bent over the horse's corpse. Dav held his breath, counted to five, then rose up to a crouch and sprinted for the nearest cover.

The hook flew out and caught him around the middle. He couldn't hold back a scream as he felt the tip gouge into his stomach, then he was flying through the air toward the waiting monster. Pushing the pain to the back of his mind, Davoss summoned a blast of holy power and threw it at the abom, miraculously managing to stun it. He landed in a heap at its feet, stumbled to his feet and ran as best as he could, away.

* * * * * *

Davoss stumbled to the riverbank and dropped, rolling to his side to try and protect his injured stomach. The wound burned, and his shirt under his armor was already soaked with blood. He made himself sit up after a moment, then began painfully pulling off pieces of his armor. His mail shirt had a hole in it from the scourgehook, and he tossed it aside, then pulled off the shirt. The wound didn't look too deep, and his guts were all still inside him, thank the Light. The torn skin around it was turning an angry red, however. He didn't know what disease would look like, and wasn't sure how one caught the plague anyway, but he did know that the injury needed tending, and now.

He called up all the Light that he could manage in his weary, weakened state, then directed it at the gash. It began knitting together, and some of the red faded, but he knew he needed to get a real healer to look at it as soon as possible. He tore up his ruined shirt and used the strips to wrap up the wound, then stood up and stumbled onward, heading upriver. His armor sat on the riverbank, abandoned.


To be continued...