Sophia dragged her reluctant party into the auditorium. Alatariel and Thoriel were chattering among themselves about whether or not there was going to be this-and-that award and who would win it. Sophia looked frantically around the auditorium. The seats were filling up quickly. Where could she find seats for a party this big? And was she really the only one in the group that cared?
No, she thought with relief, as Annunfuiniel whispered in her ear. "Look, I see five seats up there," pointing to the second row.
"We need six!" Sophia said in despair, "I promised I'd save one for Alaklondewen." She looked around frantically, but everywhere seemed full, and people were starting to mutter about the group of people blocking their view of the stage.
Fin rolled his eyes and waved his hand with the air of someone who had everything under control. "Just ask that Balrog to move down one, I'm sure he won't mind." With no more ado he proceeded to do so. As the Balrog moved over obligingly he commented, "See, nice fellows, Balrogs." They filed into the row as uproarious applause rocked the audience with the announcement of Aman as the winner of the overstretched RPGer award.
As the applause died away they settled into their seats, Sophia between Fin and Annun, and they sat back waiting for the next presenter.
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The seasons fall like silver swords, the years rush ever onward; and soon I sail, to leave this world, these lands where I have wander'd. O Elbereth! O Queen who dwells beyond the Western Seas, spare me yet a little time 'ere white ships come for me!
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