"I am Sullivan, <AvatarName>," he says pleasantly. "Who wouldst thou be?"*

"Well, in all honesty, <AvatarName>, I have no job. Although, for a time, I was a thieving scoundrel."

"'Tis truly a fantastic group of people, <AvatarName>. We spread guidance and prosperity to the people who reside in our fair land. Of course, at the moment, my fellow members are a bit... displeased with me."

<Anton> "That's a bit of an understatement!"

"The Fellowship teaches people to follow their leaders like sheep. Canst thou think of better guidance?"

"When a member behaves properly and follows directions and so forth, he -- or she -- can hear the `inner voice' that teaches one how to win at the games. 'Tis the very reason I joined!" he grins broadly.

"However, I have yet to hear the voice."

"Well, apparently I hadn't striven hard enough to be deserving of the loan I... acquired from the money box upstairs."

As best he can, he leans toward you. For perhaps the first time in his entire life, he turns somber. "Actually, deserve is a relative term. I have finally realized -- being on the racks for many hours during the day leaves time for quite a number of realizations -- the true nature of The Fellowship. Batlin and Abraham and Danag, they all are in error.

When the Guardian makes his appearance here in Britannia, I have no doubt he will simply eliminate everyone, including The Fellowship leaders." His smile returns.

"That is why I decided to get everything out of The Fellowship and Britannia now, before we are all killed."

"Well... I was going to return the money eventually. I just needed it to win more in the games."

<Anton> "What the fool means is that he used to don a costume and pretend to be thee in an attempt to woo goods from the proprietors."

"Quite true, Avatar. The ruse worked far too well. 'Twas a true shame, to be honest. I should not have gotten away with it, and, indeed, am being properly castigated for it now."

"Oh, just that I have been impersonating thee for some time now to take items from shopkeepers without paying for them. Well, -had- been actually. Now I am being properly castigated for it."

"I thank thee."

<Anton> "Thou art welcome." He nods.

"Well, until I was caught, I would go from shop to shop all across Britannia, posing as `the Avatar.' The owners were all too happy to supply me with numerous gifts. Thou truly hast a good life, <AvatarName>."

<Anton> "Ask him about his taxes, <AvatarName>."

"Oh, just anything I asked for -- weapons, armour, provisions, spells. Of course, I had no real use for the spells, but it was nice to acquire them for free, regardless."

He smiles.

"The Britannian Tax Council created a tax to raise money for the government. I did not feel like paying them," he shrugs, "so I didn't. And, of course," he says, grinning, "now they often put me on that fine rack."

He stretches his neck and peers at the wooden slab.

"Very fine workmanship." He nods. "Indeed, that is by far the best rack I have ever seen!"

"Is not that the finest rack thou hast ever seen? Exquisite workmanship, beautiful detail."

"Pleasant days, <AvatarName>. See thee soon on the surface world!" END