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Old 08-27-2003, 01:24 AM   #187
Everdawn
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
 
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Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: On the sand dunes outside of Ilium, watching it burn.
Posts: 1,291
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Silmaril

Character Description Form:

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES, Truthin in a Dark Place, Corsairs and Corsets, The Fall of Greenwood the Great.

2.) I am in two at the moment.

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn or in The White Horse in Rohan? – YES.. The Green Dragon...

(One of the Shady underworld types)

NAME: Avanill...

AGE: 20

RACE: Man

GENDER: Male


WEAPONS: Numerous sets of knives, a sword and numerous little bottles filled with poisons, which he uses to eradicate people who have not paid his debts.

APPEARANCE: Like his mother, Atantri, he has tanned skin, shoulder-length dark brown hair. His eyes are a deep shade of blue. He wears clothes of dark colours and a calico-type cloak, which is now a sign of his house.

PERSONALITY: Avanill is a deep person and very unhospitable to people whom he falls out with. He has killed before and like his mother takes pride in success. Avanill is not a complete outlaw. He never knew his father, whom his mother killed. He is very good at bargaining, to his credit, is very gentlemanly, until he has reason to hurt someone. It is not a good idea to be in his debt. Avanill is immensely respectful towards his mother Atantri who single-handedly raised him in Minhiriath before leaving him at intervals to terrorise the West Road.

HISTORY:

Avanill lived out his childhood years in the inn at Minhiriath with his grandmother the innkeeper and his mother, a Bandit on the West Road. Avanill was always curious about the type of people who would wander into the inn and constantly listened to their stories. His mother had taught him to ride horses from a young age as well as fight. And his mother had always been pleased with him. Later in his life, and a little while after the war of the ring, Avanill joined his mother with several other bandits on Pinnath Gelin in Gondor, herself having evaded capture numerous amounts of times, but failing on one occasion when she double crossed the head of the bandits and was awarded her life by King Helinon, the son of the mighty Kin Hirluin the fair who was slain in the war of the ring. Helinon was pleased for Atantri’s actions and granted her, her life.

Avanill had been around eight years old, when he heard news of his mother’s capture and when she returned home, he practised her skill of robbery. As it was said… Avanill joined his mother in Pinnath Gelin, where they robbed passing merchants and parties. Swiftly evading many a time, the guards of the mark and of Gondor. At the age of twenty, Avanill and his mother returned to the inn at Minhiriath where Atantri released him from her house, and presented him with a calico cloak to which he said. “Mother I will for ever wear this as a sign of your house and of your noble deeds to me and our kind. My children and theirs will keep your name honoured.” And he went off to the north to try his luck of trading on Middle-Earth’s black-market selling stolen goods which he had acquired from his old acquaintances, the bandits of Pinnath Gelin, who still roamed few and far between on its planes.
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Avanill restrained his horse from further movement than was necessary. It was true that the pair looked a formidable team when out on the open road, Avanill pitied his victims greatly. The Forsaken inn he chimed to himself. “Ah yes, I should think it has been time enough for the people who owe me, to pay me back. Has it been due time for them Amathalay?” he asked the grey horse who seemed to stamp his hooves in approval.

“So do I.” Avanill replied and dismounted the animal. And remembered his mother, the formidable bandit, Atantri’s parting words to him. “It has come time mother, I must journey north.” Is what he had said gathering up his weapons, seeing standing before him the tired form of his thirty six year old mother Atantri. “So soon? You are eagre my son, and that may get you into trouble in the future. Remember that.” She said as she handed him his cloak. “Not if you have taught me well.” He said back to her. “That is what I fear most. I can offer you one piece of advice that will see you through all of your years, even when I am gone.” Avanill stopped dead, and listened eagerly, as he always did when his mother spoke.

“Trust no one. I would be dead ten times over if it were not for this instinct. You owe no allegiance to anyone, not even to me, you are your own person. The days of old with our companions of the bandits are near over, if it is your choice to deal with them, make it be that you trade to Mordor. There is still resistance there, and a will to pay high prices for goods.” Avanill had kissed his mother on the head and left with the grey horse whom his mother used to ride in her days of terrorising Pinnath Gelin, and whom she had named Amathalay, after a traitor her friend killed saying “It is a name only fit for a horse.”

It had been a long ride for Avanill on his old but sturdy and intimidating steed, but he had been here before. His mother was right, he had been dealing with the bandits of Pinnath Gelin, but he had not guessed that she was so close to the truth, his comapny did take goods grom the bandits and sold them in turn at a higher percentage to outlaws in Mordor, to name one in particular, Naiore. Yes she paid high prices for Avanill's goods, and it was common knowledge that the king's men were after her.


It was his black market trade which had brought him here in the first place, on his way further north. “Hello Sir” came the voice of a man from the stables. Avanill turned around to see him, “Dervorin, if it isn’t you. Last time I saw you, you owed me a debt!” said Avanill cheerfully. “I uh… I paid you back, begging you pardon Avanill.” Said Dervorin, slightly alarmed.

“Of course you have!” Avanill chortled, “Not to hold a man’s debts against him of course…” he trailed off and walked closer to the man. “… you fail to pay me on time again and I will have your head-“ Avanill paused when two decent looking men came into the stables, to which Avanill changed his time immediately, “And yes, my mother is fine.. how is your family?!!” the men left shortly after Avanill finished this sentence, which prompted him to go back into threat mode. “Fine” muttered Dervorin. “Well…” began Avanill leaning closer again, “they wont be next time, understand?” and without waiting for an answer, Avanill turned on his heel and entered the inn leaving only his horse and the swish of his cloak in his wake.


[ August 27, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[ August 30, 2003: Message edited by: Everdawn ]
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~My lord, Éomer~
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