2004 Barrow-Downs’ Birthday Celebration!

[Kitanna]

After posting her own birthday wishes Kitanna wandered around for a bit. She was drawn to the pavilion by a beautiful song. She watched as a woman with dark hair and equally dark eyes sang in Rohirrim, the Quenya, and finally in the common speech. The woman's voice captivated Kitanna and she joined in the applause when Arestevana finished her song.

As the woman stepped down from the pavilion Kitanna approached her to comment on the beauty of the song. "That was one of the most beautiful songs I have ever heard." Kitanna moved a long, black strand of hair from her eyes. "I wish everyone could do justice to the art of song."

[piosenniel]

She had not quite reached the willow tree, when the green band on her wrist began to glow again. In the background, near the Party Tree she could hear a great chant had gone up. Looking back back she saw another wizard had entered the party. And what an entrance! Her brows raised at the flames licking round the front gate, then relaxed as she saw the SVF (Shireling Volunteer Firefighters) already organising a bucket brigade.

The green wrist band glowed brighter.

‘Yes, your Wightliness,’ she said in a hurried tone, her eyes trying to penetrate the leafy branches of the willow no too far away now. ‘I’ve finished my writing for the day,’ came the familiar deep voice in a peevish tone. ‘Is it time for the fireworks yet?’ Pio glanced at the position of the sun – ‘Going on evening just now, Wight. Give it a couple of hours, two at the most and I shall have the old fellow start lighting his rockets and star-bursts.’ A few mumbled words followed, something about a silvered dragon having returned and what about . . .

‘You are breaking up, Sir,’ replied Pio crumpling a piece of notepaper she’d fished out of her pocket near the bracelet. ‘Take a nap . . .you sound tired . . . .’ She crackled the paper a few more times and clicked the off button on the band.

She had just reached her intended target when a gentle voice called out to her. ‘Piosenniel! I’ve finished my preparations along with the aid of my three good helpers here!’ The old man stood at the edge of the path, a bouquet of rockets held in his hand. From behind him, hidden by his voluminous robes, came the sound of laughter and quick shushings. ‘Ancalimon,’ she said, crouching down as she tried to peek around him. ‘Who is that hiding behind your robes, I wonder?’ A chorus of giggles followed, and three smiling faces peeked out from behind the old man. ‘Ammë!’ cried the three as they hurtled toward Pio, nearly knocking her over. ‘We’ve sorted the fireworks out for Uncle,’ said Isilmir. ‘By color,’ said Gilwen, her comment following closely on her twin’s. ‘And I’ve sorted the straws out he’s going to use to light them,’ added little Cami, a serious expression on her face. Her three little ones grabbed Ancalimon’s robes and drew him near their mother. ‘Go on, tell her,’ prompted Isilmir, his grey eyes on the old man’s face. ‘Yes, tell her,’ chorused the girls. Ancalimon, his blue eyes twinkling, laughed at the eager trio. ‘I’ve promised them they might each light one of the smaller fireworks when the show opens.’

‘Ooh!’ came a piping voice from the branches above the little group. ‘It’s Rory!’ cried little Cami, peering up through the leaves. ‘What’re you doing up there?’ asked Gilwen, coming to stand beside her sister. ‘And Daisy . . . where did you get that green hair.’ ‘Ooh! I like it,’ joined in little Cami, her eyes shining.

The two Hobbit children climbed down to the ground, and were soon taken up in asking questions about the fireworks and when were they to see them. Pio could hear the leaves rustling above her. ‘You had best come down, too,’ she called up through the leaves. ‘And bring down that last present that needs to go back on the table, if you please.’ Pimpernel shinnied down the trunk and walked sheepishly over to where Pio stood, the Metaserver in his hand.

Ancalimon took the six children in hand, saying he could use them all as his assistants. Pio mouthed her thanks to him, and taking the wayward gift went to replace it on the table . . .

[piosenniel]

Night – the Firework show begins

The party swirled on as the sun dipped below the horizon. Near the western edge of the field, guests settled in on blankets they’d spread on the ground or sat on benches they’d dragged over from the pavilions. The entry way to the burrow faced west, and from within could be seen a ghastly glow as the Wight settled himself in the doorway to watch the fireworks.

Amidst the oohs! And aahs! of the crowd, a series of small rockets burst against the dark sky, lit by the children. Heren Istarion or so she had gathered the wizard was called, had assisted in part, turning some of the bursts into lovely patterns that delighted and thrilled those watching . . .

[HerenIstarion]

H-I was no longer grumpy, as his hunger and weariness were cured with the rich food of the Shire. Having helped Ancalimon with the fireworks, he was sitting quitely by the tree, smoking his pipe and feasting his eyes on their common handiwork. "Why, this Ancalimon proved himself to be skilled craftsman' he murmured' Even I can learn a thing or two from him. Once the party is over, I am going to have a long talk with him: such a talk as I have not had in all my time. We shall have much to say to one another'. He puffed out yet another smoke-ring and fell silent again.

[Evisse the Blue]

Pausing from her feast, Evisse stood up to watch the fireworks which lighted up the night, and applauded heartily along with the rest Pio and Heren Istarion 's magical efforts. She watched them for a few minutes, almost expecting a fiendishly realistic dragon to pop out, but nothing of that sort happened, and the delight of the onlookers was long-lasting. When they at last turned to their momentarily deserted meals and drinks, it was with a happy gleam in their eyes and a smile on their faces.
Evisse started from her own firework-induced euphoria and realized she hasn't payed her respects to the venerable Wight, the one who weaved the spell around them all, the Keeper of the Mystery. Making her way towards the willow, she stopped in front of it and whispered uncertainly into the darkness: "Happy birthday to Barrow Downs, Your Wightiness!" After a moment of silence, a few questioning mumbles were heard, which she took to mean that 'Barrow downs is a place, and I am a person, well, was a person.'
"Well, yes' Evisse stammered, but you are, well, you know, the , you know.."
"yes, I am the Barrow Wight, the one and only, I know", said a self-satisfied though strangely benevolent voice. 'Now go and enjoy the party!"
"yes, you Wightiness!", Evisse replied brightly, and headed off, refraining from teasing him with allusions of him being at the Gaffer's home made brew, and thus, outstaying her welcome. The eerie voice had sounded a little slurred.

The fireworks were still dancing in the sky when she reached her own mug of delicious beer. Looking around she spotted Heren Istarion blowing rings of smoke and waved happily. She knew he wasn't going to scold her for being late, because he was in fact, himself late. And besides, nobody was much in the mood for scolding these days...Hobbits, Elves, Wizards and Orcs alike were humming 'I'll get by with a little help from the Downs', and Evisse joined in, learning the words as they came.

As she hummed and sipped her ale, she remembered she had not made a formal birthday wish, or left a mathom. And knowing that 'late is better than never', she carefully extracted from the folds of her dress a bright red coffee cup, slightly dented on a side. She gazed at it lovingly, before depositing it along with the rest.

Then she cleared her throat, climbed on a nearby tree stump for effect, and began:

We read Tolkien all night and we log on Barrows all day,
Live uns ask us 'don't you have bills to pay?'
But we got something they can't take away --
Our Barrow: obsession's here to stay,
So keep on posting, lock the real world outside,
You don't need nothing when the Barrow's online
Our dreams, our pride,
My keyboard clicks like crazy -- all night,
And there's a chance yours is too, and it's alright,
And I'll never let go, cause there's something I know deep inside....

She paused, and those who listened held their breath expectantly...To everybody's suprise but lasting delight, she took up Saucy's tune:

I'll get by with a little help from the Downs...
Everybody joined in, enthusiastically, while Evisse sighed in relief that nobody mocked her crazy birthday wish...

[Estelyn Telcontar]

Merisuwyniel listened appreciatively to the various songs and poems, especially enjoying those of The Saucepan Man. She did dearly love the gentle art of parody, especially when she recognized the original source. She wondered if she should try to write a poem or song, since the member of her company who was usually responsible for poetic efforts had not come to the party. However, she needed some inspiration, and the only thing that had inspired her to poetic effort so far was - a beautiful dress!

The very thing!, she thought, and hurried away to find Falafel with her baggage. Her gorgeous Elven gown from the hallowed boutiques of Topfloorien was in perfect condition, as always, and as she changed into the star-strewn creation in shades of blue, she had time to ponder poetically...

~*~

Merisu carried her high-heeled Manwëolos as she walked gracefully to the center of activity; an uneven field, trodden by myriads of feet, was better navigated Hobbit-style. When she reached the platform near the Barrow entrance, she slipped into the Elven sandals (Her bare feet had stayed immaculate, of course; Elven skin is dirt-repellant!), rising to an impressive height that commanded the attention of all guests nearby. Though there was none of what mortals call ´magic´in her sparkling raiment, some power dwelt in them that inspired her to raise her clear voice. The light of generations of Elven aristocracy shone in her eyes as she spoke:

Bee-Dubbya is a forum king,
and of the Downs its members sing:
A Tolkien realm that’s fair, flame-free,
With book discussions and RPG.

Some threads are long, debate is keen,
With shining reputations seen;
And countless quotes in lengthy posts
Do testify of well-read hosts.

Some threads are funny, more or less;
On others, answers must be guessed
To questions easy or riddles tough.
The posters there can’t get enough!

Some threads do deal with movie lore,
And whether the characters should have been more
Like they were in the book - more noble, less weak.
Could PJ have done better? These answers they seek.

Some threads are stories, told anew
In Shire and Rohan, Gondor too.
Many Middle-earth gamers gather there
To write the adventures their characters share.

Four years ago the forum began:
The Barrow, idea of one Tolkien fan,
Became a virtual meeting place
For many - some, even, face to face!

Long ago we surfed this way
and now we dwell here; dead, so to say,
For into darkness we fell, deep and far,
In the Barrow-Downs where the Ghost Princes are.

Lift your glasses now all, in a toast to him
Whose vision, though green, is never dim.
Happy Birthday, dear Downs, and enjoy being dead,
All you Skeletons, Wights, and especially our Head!

[Orofaniel]

The fireworks were beautiful, and all the guests looked at them with great satisfaction. The party had gone so fast, yes, even for Orofaniel and her friend Nova. They had met Firi, and together they had eaten and drank, while listening to Sausy's songs.

"It's really pretty, ain't it?" Orofaniel asked Nova and Firi. They both nodded but didn't say anything at once. They both seemed to busy and too enchanted by it; they just watched. "Mhm.." Nova said finally while smiling. "I love fireworks..." Firi added. "I've always loved it," she continued and looked down from the sky.

"Erm...I'm a bit afraid of 'em actually..." Orofaniel said seeming insecure. Firi burst into laughter and looked at Orofaniel wondering if she really was afraid of it. "What?" Oro asked her with great eyes. "You...you're scared of 'em?" Firi asked and giggled. "Well...um...only when they come too "close", if you know what I mean..." Orofaniel said and straightened her back. "You're such a wimp," Nova said suddenly, teasing her. Oro knew that Nova loved to tease her and ignored the last comment. "Pff..." She said and looked up again. “They are not going to eat you, you know…” Nova said and made a grimace.

Nova then started to laugh and Firi soon joined her. "Um..Nova, you're afraid too..." Orofaniel said mocking her. "Really?" Nova seemed surprised over her statement. "Um..sure.." Oro said and laughed.

"Anyone care for something more to drink?" Orofaniel asked the two others after a moment with silence.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman stared, horrified as she watched, as if in slow motion, the three hobbit children - two of Cami's children and that pesky Pimpernel - rugby-tackled the woman leading them to the ground. Hurrying over to Saraph, she put a hand forward to help the woman up. "I do apologise, they are rather-"

To her astonishment, the woman burst out into peals of laughter. The Innkeeper withdrew her hand slowly into her apron and looked around nervously, wondering perhaps if there was something wrong with the woman. Just as she was about to risk enquiring whether the woman was alright again (a chance to be sure - the last time had, it seemed, caused such hilarity...), when Saraph stood up, wiping tears of merriment from her eyes.

"A pint of your finest, good miss," she asked merrily. Aman decided not to question it, simply smiling politely and wondering again why she had decided to let loose the odds from all over the forum into her Inn. As she was drawing a pint though, Saraphim burst into more laughter. Aman was beginning to get rather paranoid now - what, what, what was she doing to cause such hilarity?!

"An elf! They thought I was an elf!"

Aman looked the woman up and down, taking in the flowing hair and, yes, those ears were very slightly pointed... "Well, they are quite common around here...?" she chanced.

Saraph simply gave another chortle, shaking her head and taking a sip of the pint. Aman smiled weakly and moved on as hastily as courtesy would allow, hoping to get away from this bizarre elf-that-wasn't.

~*~*~*~

Later on, Aman sat on one of the hammered-in posts outside the marquee, not far from the Present Tree, wiping her hands and watching the fireworks. Nearby, two wizards (the pair who Aman thought had devised the display) sat puffing on their pipes and commenting critically on the fireworks. She smiled across at them and Heren-Istarion tipped his hat to her politely. She grinned. So much for gruffness then...

The guards had gone in for a drink and were taking their time, gossiping near the entrance of the Inn and apparently trying to chat up Bethberry and Lush (although Aman couldn't say much for their chances - Lush looked truly stunning and the Innkeeper rather doubted there was a male in the place who hadn't noticed her. Even the orcs seemed to be taking a vague, confused interest). Behind her, in a bush, Aman heard something rustling and paused, not quite looking around, just waiting. The next firework went off, a particularly spectacular specimen, and in the applause that followed Aman heard frantic voices whispering.

"Go!"
"No, you go!"
"Pimpernel, now is not the time to get cold feet about this!"
"Whose getting cold feet? If you're so desperate, you go and put it there, Daisy Zaragamba!"
"Put it there yourself, dragon's breath!"
"Dragon's breath yerself!"

Aman whipped around, plunging a hand into the bush and grasping a collar. The bush emitted a high-pitched squeal and the collar squirmed under her grasp but the Innkeeper held on. Then she felt little teeth sink into her hand and let go with a yelp, withdrawing her hand sharply and jumping back, more in surprise than pain. Looking back at the bush just in time, Aman saw three small, dark figures emerge with the speed of a greased adder and high-tail it away. One yelled over it's shoulder as they sped away only to be silenced by another.

"Sorry, Miz! Didn't mean to-"
"Didn't mean to? You just bit the flamin' Innkeeper, Daisy! Oh, Mama is going to kill us...we're really for it now..."

[Witch_Queen]

With today being the birthday for Barrowdowns, I want to wish everyone a good day. May the next year be a good one for you and your loved ones.
Witch_Queen (Witchie)
After writing and posting her birthday greeting Witchie decided that the party was the best she had ever seen even though it seemed to her that the Party tree was full of wishes and greetings.Yeah its a birthday party and for a change I was invited. Yippey! She always wanted to have a party in a bucket but decided that this one will do just fine. Looking around she saw all her many friends. People she had come to know and love through-out her travels. Some people she hadn't even seen before but was glad to see new faces. At the sight of Bethberry Witchie had to go see her old friend. "Bethberry!" she cried at the top of her lungs. She was glad to find someone that she recognized right off the bat.

Witch_Queen proceeded to where Bethberry was at. Making sure not to interrupt someone elses conversation she kept her voice down a bit. "Hello old friend." Bethberry isn't that old. Oh just forget about it. This isn't a time to reconsider your words this is a time to celebrate. Witch_Queen was so happy to hear some one call her Witchie instead of being formal and saying Witch_Queen. She knew her arrival was late but she thought at least she could enjoy the last little bit of the party before going back to her little hole in the hill.!!!!Party!!!!