Stands behind Mithadan as the party notice is skewered to the locked door.
'Hmmm . . . a party!', whispers piosenniel to her self, a certain shiver of anticipation running down her spine.
'What shall I wear? Something made for springle-ring dancing, I'm sure! & I wonder, shall I bring something for the buffet table - perhaps a wild mushroom stew with herbed dumplings? & I think I'd better unearth that cask of dwarf spirits to get the party spirit well lit . . .yes . . .so much to do before Monday! &, oh yes, I must oil up my dancing shoes . . . hmm . . . I wonder if the BarrowWight is free for a dance?!'
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Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.
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