[Brinniel]

In a small village outside of Mirkwood, there was a tavern. The tavern was quite ordinary. It was not large, but neither was it small. The tavern was not old, yet it had stood for many years. Business was slow that night, but the stormy weather was not the cause.
In the corner of the tavern, sat a dark, cloaked figure. The small figure did not appear intimidating, yet all avoided it. Slender hands held a pipe, which the cloaked figure smoked. This mysterious person sat there, as if waiting for something.

Several minutes later, a man dared to approach the figure. Though he was quite drunk, as he could not walk in a straight line, he seemed unusually focused and rather furious. He did not stop until he was ten feet from the figure. The figure leaned back, its arms crossed, showing no fear of this man.
"Take off your hood, fool," the man said. "And let me speak with you."
The figure stood up and pulled off its hood, revealing a woman. The woman was not beautiful, nor was she ugly. She had long fiery red hair, that would stand out for miles. Her skin was rough and tanned from spending many years in the sun. Her eyes were a brilliant green, but were also cold and piercing.
The woman, Raye she was called, gave the man a smirk and responded to his words, asking," And what is it you would like to speak to me about?"
"You know what I have to say," the man growled. "You cheated me on that last game of darts. I want my money back."

At this point, several of the others in the tavern had just begun noticing the man's confrontation with Raye. Many fled the building, afraid to see what was to happen to the man. Others sat in their seats, huddled together, speaking in soft whispers.

Raye paid no heed to the others, though. Her focus remained on the man.
"Oh, what a shame," she said, unmeaningfully. "If you had only told me that before I spent all your money for myself." Raye pulled out her dagger. The drunk man, whom Raye considered helpless, did not see the dagger which Raye concealed behind her back.
"But then again," she continued. "I suppose we could have a rematch. If you win, you get the remainder of my money and if I win, I get nothing." Raye began to walk towards the drunken fool. "You would like that, wouldn't you?" Raye and the man stood face to face, separated by only a few inches of air.
The man nodded, no longer furious with the young woman. "I would like that very much," he said.
Raye could see that the fool was completely ignorant of her lies and did not realize his fate. This satisfied Raye. This man would go down without a fight.
"Unfortunately," she told the man. "I don't do rematches with anyone." She thrusted the dagger into the man's stomach.
The man doubled over in pain, but Raye did not release the dagger. "Perhaps you will remember that next time you come across me."
The man was turning rather pale, but still he nodded.
"Good," Raye, said pulling the dagger from the man's stomach, using it to slice his throat. The man fell to the ground.
An easy kill she thought, staring a the dead man. By far the easiest yet.
She picked up her belongings and headed out of the tavern. The others who remained in the tavern cowered as she strode past them.

Outside of the tavern, Raye stood in the dark, rainy night pondering. For half her life, she had spent her days doing exactly what she had done moments ago. To her, killing was amusing and it did not do much harm, as the men she killed were nothing but drunken fools. But the fun was starting to wear off. Raye began to wonder if she could do something more with her life. She turned to her right, facing the path to Mirkwood.
Raye did not like people. But she knew that she couldn't spend the rest of her life avoiding them. If she had to communicate civily with anyone, it would be with the elves. At least the elves were smart and not so ignorant as the men. Raye did not want to go to Mirkwood, yet something told her that it was the right path to go. She shook her head, muttering nonsense to herself. And without further hesitation, Raye began to walk towards Mirkwood, unwillingly.