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Old 09-09-2003, 01:57 AM   #23
Everdawn
Ghost Prince of Cardolan
 
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Join Date: Dec 2002
Location: On the sand dunes outside of Ilium, watching it burn.
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Silmaril

Avanill had entered the Inn which was crowded. In many a corner sat dark dangerous looking men, osme he knew, others he did not. After nodding several times to the men he knew, Avanill settled at the edge of the bar. And there he took from a small box, a small glass bottle containing a shiny red powder.

Almost as if he had called, another man came and stood beside him. "Avanill?" he asked in a gruff voice. "The very same" he answered in his usual casual tone, his blue eyes not moving to meet the man. "Well, is that it then?" the man asked turning his attention to the bottle in Avanill's hand.

"Yes, the petals of the Simbelmynė can be lethal when combined with other things. I made it myself, a pinch is enough to kill any man, or any man's beast." Avanill handed over the bottle while the man placed a large amount of coins on the bar in front of him. Avanill's eyes glinted at the sight of the gold. "Are you an apothecary then sir?" the stranger asked.

"Partly" Avanill answered befor the man left as though he was not there in the first place. "Well that was an earning" he sighed to himself before sitting down at a table not so far from the door. Avanill never made it his business to learn what his goods were used for, that way he could never be accused of knowing of a crime. Most of the time Avanill got away with supplying his trade, and any man who dared tell the authorities usually lost his tongue. Its not that he was a violent man, Avanill was clever and the penalty if he was convicted of trafficing was high.

What came next was that Avanill was alerted to the appearance of several simarly clothed men, dark and well armed who sat together, and Avanill got hte feeling that they were well travelled. At once his breath was caught in his throat. Rangers. He had previously had run-in's with rangers, but at no time was there bloodshed. He knew better than to get off side with that kind. They were stout and sworn to protect the roads and were loyal to King Aragorn.

Avanill was not usually troubled by them, he was not a rpime threat. He often went in the guise of being a trader or messenger. Avanill pulled his hood over his head and sat waiting until the opportunity would arise that he would find new business or a room for the time being.

Avanill looked back around the inn. There were elves as well. Avanill snorted under his breath. The fair race indeed, but even an elf can be evil and have a soul which is ugly he reminded himself. The first tales he had heard of the elves were told to him by Atantri, his beloved mother. She had been very young then, her brothers had taken her north (she had been friend to the rangers then) and in the woodlands they had met a company of elves passing to the Grey Havens.

Avanill had also had his meetings with elves. The most dangerous had been the servent of Sauron, Naiore. Dark were the days when Avanill slipped into the realm of Mordor, though it had been taken by the forces of good. Avanill had not side in that. He would be well kept no matter what the outcome had been.

Then came the words from the table of the rangers, mostly unhearable, but once the spoke, "Naiore" Avanill's head snapped. No, why would she be around here?he thought quickly and then was confronted by an elf maid. Avanill raised his eyebrows. "Ale sir?" she asked. For a moment the young trader thought it was indeed the Mordor elf. "No" he said quickly, and the elf walked away. My word! Does the blood of Naiore flow elsewhere? he wondered.

Last edited by piosenniel; 05-11-2006 at 10:36 AM.
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