[The Barrow-Wight]

Orogarn Two trotted effortlessly beside the frustrated elf-maiden wondering is she might have information on his missing wallet. Merisuwyniel had doled out the Dwarf’s extortion fee quite readily, and it was oobvious that she possessed a greater than average capacity for the conveyance of coin. No ordinary money pouch could contain so much as the Kuruharan had demanded, so either the lovely elf-girl had his wallet or she and he shopped at the same outlet stores. He decided to investigate.

Gripping his magic crystal in his left hand, he focused his thought on the elf-maiden and mentally projected himself toward her. His hand tightened as he made mental contact with the lass and, unbeknownst to him, his right arm swung freely, going high in front of him and then falling in a graceful arc to point directly behind him. With each dextrous stride, his arm rose and fell like a child on a swing.

“What in Middle-earth are you doing?” asked Earnur, manfully.

Orogarn Two was startled from his task and released the stone at his neck.

“What do you mean?” he asked innocently, thinking he had been caught at his planned mental manipulation of Merisuwyniel.

“Your arm. What was that floating business with your arm?”

“Floating business?”

“Yes,” said Halfullion, “I saw it, too. You arm was moving in the most peculiar manner, like a hobbit hanging from a tree.”

“Which arm?”

“The right,” answered Kuruharan. “Very odd.”

“My right arm? Swinging like a halfling with a low vocabulary? I’m sure I don’t know what you might mean. I was doing nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Yes you were,” interjected Vogonwë. “I saw it, too. Your right arm was dangling like a participle.”

“Like a wispy maiden in a Summer breeze,” smiled Halfullion.

“Like a chicken in a suit of armor,” added Kuruharan.

Everyone looked at the Dwarf in confusion, each imagining a metal-encased barnyard fowl and wondering what Kuruharan could possibly have meant.

“Enough! My arm is innocent!” Orogarn Two dropped back to the rear of the party to stifle further conversation.

Surprised that he had been caught attempting to use his stone, yet unable to understand what everyone had been talking about, Orogarn Two waited patiently until their attention was turned elsewhere. The elf-gal’s suspicious money-storing capabilities were still highly suspect, and at last he saw the chance to probe her mind again. His left hand rose to the crystal once more.

“You’re doing it again!” shouted Earnur, far ahead of him but looking back.

“What!?” yelled Orogarn Two, upset that his attention had again been distracted.

“The arm thing,” said the Dwarf.

“I saw it this time, too,” added Merisuwyniel. “That is very odd.”

“Creepy, if you ask me,” said the dragon, hovering above the conversation.

“I didn’t ask you,” shouted Orogarn Two angrily to the flying monster above him, “and I still don’t know what you all are talking about. I am just minding my own business and enjoying the fresh country air as we go along.”

“Looks to me like you were dancing,” said Kuruharan, smiling. “Are you a dancer, mister Orogarn?”

“No, I am not. And I am not Mister Orogarn! I am Orogarn Two, son of Orogarn One, son of The Orogarn Jr., son of The Orogarn…”

“Not again!” shouted Halfullion.

“What?! I am Orogarn Two, son of …”

“…. son of Orogarn One, third cousin of Isildur, 84 times removed!” said everyone in unison.

“Do not mock me!” screamed Orogarn Two. “I will not be mocked.”

He stopped running suddenly, allowing the riding group to move quickly ahead of him.”

“Do not mock!” laughed Earnur quietly.

“I heard that!” returned Orogarn Two, running again so as not to be left behind, right hand tucked carefully into his trouser pocket.

[ January 16, 2003: Message edited by: The Barrow-Wight ]