[Everdawn]

Avanill

For a long while Avanill had sat at the Pony, bored, restless adn hungry for the night to pass. It was then that he began to spot the rangers. "Bloody rangers" he muttered. "I can't live with them, and it seems the public can't live without them, or so it seems." he chuckled and checked his debtor's book looking around every now and then, to see that more rangers had joined their table.

"Lawks lads! What time of the year is it? Ranger season in Bree-land! bloody bad for business ill tell ya." he spoke to the empty space opposite him. He got up from his place and decided to try his potion he had acquired form Marcello, and to get kicks under the noses of several rangers.

Swiftly he picked his first victim. A older looking man, who sat at the bar. Foreignerhe supposed, "Gondorian?" he sat beside the man. "Evening my friend" he said good naturedly, the man returned his greetings and after quick conversation, new ales were ordered. "No allow me!" chimed Avanill taking the drinks from the waitress and with quick hands, he emptied a small amount of potion into the man's ale when he was not looking.

Avanill leant back on his seat, satisfied that Marcello was right after all, one drop and the Gondorian was out like a light. "Thankyou my good man! I think youve had quite enough tonight!" Avanill laughed loudly slapping the man on the back as his figure was slumped on the bar. Avanill also noticed the Gondorian was wearing a very large diamond on a ring on his finger. "I think ill be having that as well." he muttered pulling the diamond free of it's claws. After exhausting his attention on the man who was now asleep, he left and returned ot his table.

No sooner was he seated that he saw an elf with the rangers. "That is indeed strange." he said staring in her direction. "An elf in Bree, nay and elf in the Prancing Pony, With Rangers, now dear Avanill, do you take yourself for a fool? Or do you sense that this is more than just a social gathering between old friends?" he asked himself curtly.

There had been rumours flying around between folk that the servant of Sauron was in these parts, he had heard evidence of it in the Forsaken Inn. "I wonder?..." his mind began to wander. "No... couldnt be... could it? Naiore, in these parts?" Avanill's mother Atantri had supplied to the elf in darker days, and she had always said to Avanill to take care and not to delve into her business. The core rule of his business, he never got caught up in his client's business.

Now throughly confused, (or whether it was too much alcohol) he gathered up his things to leave. He slung his bag onto his shoulder and went back down the streets towards the stables he had left that wretched horse, Amathalay, and that was on the east side. It was a rough part of town, but who could say what part of Bree wasnt rough? None though, would give Avanill trouble, for they knew of his influence in these parts.

There was no moonlight at the moment and Avanill cursed at it for not being so. Then walking again he noticed someone coming towards him. He could nto tell at first who it was, but as he approached, Avanill knew full well who it was. Barrold Ferney.

He could hardly mask the lines of laughter which appeared on his face, and he was now thankful the moon did not show. He straightened himself up to his full height. "Ferney!" he called as he approached him. It was no secret that Avanill overshaddowed Barrold in business, but Bree was his town and Avanill was but a frequent visitor, and to some extent Avanill was jelous of this. But also is it known that Avanill is a perfectionist, and trade to him is a skill, not a cheap craft as Barrold preferred it to be. Now what shall we see? he laughed inwardly.