An odd looking woman walked towards the two standing stones slowly, weaving slightly and occasionally stopping as she attempted to perambulate and adjust the settings on her camera at the same time. She was failing at both verbs, and on at least one occasion she accidentally kicked a small fluffy animal.
Finally the camera battery died and she turned her attentions to her surroundings. The line of brush she had initially been making for was nowhere to be seen, and she didn't remember the dark silhouette of the stones standing before her at all. A mist misted mistily for a space around the hilly hill, reducing visibility and deadening all but the creepiest sounds.
"Spooooky!" she said in a silly voice. Nobody heard, except maybe a squirrel.
There was a not-very-spooky umbrella stand outside the door, containing several weapons and a banana. The green and gold banner above the door read:
Quote:
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The way is open. It was made by those who are dead, and the dead keep it. The way is open.
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Into the Barrow of the Wights entered the odd one. Not a dry, bare, sandy barrow with nothing to sit on or eat, but a dirty nasty wet barrow, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell. It was home.
Over there was the feathered hat of Tom Bombadil where you could enter your name for the obligatory Werewolf game. Or maybe the Tri-Wizard tournament. Canon was a bit mixed up. Just to the leftish was a nook for serious book discussion. A bit more left and a notch or two East was the food, dominated by a giant sculpture of a wurst made entirely out of more wurst. To the North of this was a group of identical ladies handing out lembas.
The hatrack didn't yet contain one of the best detatchable party hoods rumored to be circulating, but Oddwen claimed one of the pegs for her homemade cloak. She did keep the decorative pin which said "Do the Wave for Boromir the Disco King" on it, because after all, it was a party.
And where there's a party, there's music. Unless it's a quiet party. This didn't appear to be a quiet party. It was quiet at the time, but it didn't need to stay that way.
After rummaging around for a bit, she found the audio system and began to play a well-played cassette. The tinny sounds of Sergeant Saucy's Barrow Downs Club Band reached into the hall...