2004 Barrow-Downs’ Birthday Celebration! - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Ithaeliel · 05-01-2004, 01:34 PM

The sun was hot and high at that time of day, and clouds were scattered in wisps across the deep blue sky that hung over a traveling procession of elves. Their path took them through the Shire, where today it was serene and peaceful... supposedly.

Suddenly, the procession came upon a large field packed with people of all different shapes and sizes (hobbits, elves, humans, even a performing orc!), all of whom were making a great deal of noise and dancing around like a bunch of drunken fools. One elf who seemed to be quite occupied with the gathering was sporting a bright red mop of hair and glancing about with emerald eyes. One elf in the procession turned to another and whispered, "Contact lenses, perhaps?" The other shook his head in disdain and continued walking. The first elf, however, was interested in the spirited display, and she gazed curiously at the people there. I do wish that I could stay and see what they're celebrating...

"Lady Ithaeliel, we cannot make delays to accomodate your distractions," one of the elder elves called back. Ithaeliel scowled, and when no one was looking she took off her pendant and hid it. Eager to join the party, she called ahead to the front of her group. "I have lost my pendant while we have walked through these green hills! I must go back to find it. I'll rejoin all of you after a time. Namarië, for a little while, friends!" Ithaeliel ran back over the hill to to field as quickly as possible, trying to think what she could offer to the partygoers...

Estelyn Telcontar · 05-01-2004, 01:40 PM

On the back of a horse there rode an Elf. Not one of your humble pack-ponies, sturdy but without lineage, laden with burdens; nor a huge war-horse, tall, broad and massive, made to carry the weight of an armoured knight. No, this was a shieldmaiden´s horse, and that means style!

Falafel´s dainty hooves galloped across the Brandywine Bridge with just enough effort to make her dusky flanks glisten attractively, a grace that was worthy of the maiden she bore, and exactly the right speed to allow her mistress´golden tresses to flow behind her to great effect. Hobbit mouths opened as hobbit chins dropped in admiration; such a sight was rare in the Shire!

Merisuwyniel´s violet eyes sparkled with anticipation; after weeks and months of questing, a party would be a welcome change. She knew only what she had read on the notice fastened to the gate of Bree (or was it ´Beer´? The names were confusingly similar.). She had no doubt that she would enjoy herself among the many people who accepted the invitation.

She had been puzzled at first by the suggestion that each guest provide some food, since the Fellow/Galship had not prepared a meal on the road that day. However, the pleasant Forest* through which she passed had yielded berries and other fruits, which she placed in a willow wicker basket she had quickly woven with the skill all Elves have for handicrafts.

Then there was the matter of a gift; she was not sure whether birthday presents were given to or by the host of such occasions in the Shire, but just to be sure, she found an unusual leaf in her baggage, placed there by her inventor. It was large, fluted and fan-shaped, from a tree that grows in the southern lands where her creator was currently travelling, and it would serve well to bring cool air to the host, if his barrow became too crowded or discussions too heated.

Thus prepared, she jumped off Falafel when she reached the Party Field. The mare needed no tether; she was well-trained to be exactly where her mistress needed her at precisely the right time. Merisuwyniel placed her gift and the fruits on the tables and looked around to see who was already there.

(* Some may find the Old Forest gloomy, even depressing and dangerous, but for this Elven shieldmaiden, the sun found its way to light up her shinig hair, the branches were careful not to tangle it, and trees and bushes vied with each other to give her their fruits, twigs and whatever else she needed. Such is the life of a Mary Sue!)

Alatariel Telemnar · 05-01-2004, 02:05 PM

Alatáriel made her way through the growing crowd, in search of someone to talk to, seeing as how she was forever bored. She wore a dark purple dress and her hair hung loosely on her shoulders. In her arms she was carrying some acorn pie.

'Keld!! Firi!! Lëo!!' Ala ran up to them to see that Firi was serving some tea. She looked at it, raising an eyebrow. 'Its almond flavoured, isn't it?!'

'No...' Firi gave a shifty glance.

'Ah, well anyhow, Happy Birthday!!' Ala whacked everyone with a rose she had been carrying.

Meneltarmacil · 05-01-2004, 03:07 PM

A rider on a very impressive brown stallion rode up to the gates and dismounted. As the party attendants took the horse to the stable, the rider, Meneltarmacil, entered. Dressed in a dark green cloak with gold embroidery, with a long sword on a silver belt at his waist and sporting long blond hair, Meneltarmacil had just gotten to the party field when Alatariel Telemnar whacked him with a rose she had been carrying.

"Hey! What's that all about?!" he called after her, but she had already run off. He headed to the stage, got up on it, and began to recite a poem.

There once was a spooky old wight,
Who once made the greatest website,
We are all here today,
Because we all wish to say,
Happy birthday to this wonderful site!

Meneltarmacil walked over to the table by the Wight's barrow, then reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out a small sliver figure in the likeness of a great eagle with green jewels for eyes. He laid it on the table, then walked away. He conveniently forgot to mention the enchantment that made it give an extremely loud and high-pitched scream whenever somebody other than him tried to pick it up. He took out the big bag of tortilla chips and the spicy nacho cheese mix that he himself had perfected and put them both on the food table.

"Ah, Imladris, I see you've also arrived. Looks like we're going to have to take a break from fighting the Mouth of Sauron at the Hills of Evendim for a few days. But hey, I'm not complaining. What do you think of the festivities?"

symestreem · 05-01-2004, 03:36 PM

A figure slithered down the inside of the wooden fence and landed in a heap at the bottom. Symestreem picked herself up and dusted off her cream breeches, blue shirt and silver tunic; then she checked on the contents of the large pot she carried under one arm.
Edging through the crowd, she deposited the pot of macaroni and cheese on one of the tables. Then she nervously approached the mound under the mallorn. She fished a rolled-up scroll tied with gold and silver out of her pack and deposited it on the table with the other mathoms. Making a deep bow in the direction of the mound, she made her way back to the fence. Then she swung the odd-looking instrument off of her back and went to find the dance floor.

Nerindel · 05-01-2004, 03:51 PM

Nerindel looked down one last time at the emerald green dress that her friend Léspheria had insisted she wear to the party. The intricate gold leaf embroidery on the rather tight (well at least in her opinion) low cut bodice shimmered as she walked and she felt more than sure that at some point she would stand on the hem of the flowing skirts and fall flat on her face. She had been all ready to attend the celebration in her usual rust coloured breeches, her subtle calf length hunting boots, forest green tunic, and with her leather armour firmly in place, her weapons belted to her waist and her long golden hair tied back in an untidy but controlled mass at the nape of her neck.

However, the Lady Léspheria was having none of it, she had her attendants ambush her and nearly drown her in a steaming hot basin of water. “You are an elf maiden and should present yourself accordingly!” the elven woman had admonished. “You have spent so much time in the company of the rangers and elven hunters, that you have forgotten what it is to be a lady!” Nerindel laughed remembering her friend’s admonishments. She had off course been completely right, all her adult life had be spent on one adventure or another, causing her company to consisted of mostly men and rarely was she required of her to put on the airs and graces of her kindred.

“And why should I start now!” she laughed to herself. So hitching up the delicate skirts in one hand and carrying a large plate of wild berry muffins in the other, she strode purposely towards the wonderful variety of smell’s and sounds coming from the party field.

Her grey eyes casually scanned the many guest looking for a familiar face in the sea of people. Finding none, she placed her plate of muffins on an already crowded table, then passing the ale tent set up by the green dragon staff she grabbed two foaming tankards and made her way to the spreading Mallorn that sat in the centre of the celebration. Carefully placing one of the ales near the dark entrance to the Barrow, she raised her own in toast,

‘Happy birthday old boy!” she said with a wink, then draining her tankard, she took out her gift and placed it on the table along side the others, the hand carved pipe looking slightly out of place among the shiny treasures the other guests had chosen to bring.

With a shrug, she moved on allowing the other guests who followed behind her to bestow their gifts and best wishes, while she looked to refill her tankard and find a familiar face.

**The Saucepan Man** · 05-01-2004, 05:01 PM

The pleasant, happy sounds of a party in full swing were suddenly dispersed as a terrible cacophony (a corpus of cacophony no less) arose from somewhere in the vicinity of the Party Tree. There, on the ground below it lay a jumble of pots pans and kettles, their metallic surfaces reflecting the light from the lanterns above and shimmering and glittering much like a mirrorball. Those nearby remarked how peculiar it was that a collection of kitchenware should fall from the Tree.

“Mr Pan Man, must you always arrive like this?” said Piosenniel, standing over the pile and glaring down at it sternly.

The pile of pans lay there for a while, before slowly organising itself into a human shape. A wizened face crowned with a large silver saucepan peered out.

“Eh? What’s that? Alive? Yes, thank you, Madam. I am quite alright. Somewhat shaken, but certainly alive,” the Saucepan Man replied as he stood up.

“I said must you always arrive like this?” Pio retorted impatiently.

“Ah, Mistress Piosseniel,” said Saucepan, blinking in recognition. “Erm, yes, I am afraid so. It is the only way I know.”

The mischeivous glint in his eyes softened Pio’s stance somewhat, although she still had a bone or two to pick with him.

“And what, may I ask, were you doing in the Party Tree?”

“Hearty glee? Yes I …” began Saucepan, but thought better of it on catching the glare in her green eyes. “Er, well, when I heard of the party, I crept up there to polish my pots and pans. You know how much I feel at home in trees. I was intending to arrive early to help with the preparations, but I … um … well … it was so comfortable up there that I’m afraid that I fell asleep. Still, it looks to be going well."

Saucepan favoured Pio with his best practised sheepish grin, but she had not quite finished her admonishment.

“And you call that Middle-earth wear, do you?" she said, indicating his metallic attire. She still had not quite forgiven him for clouting her with one of his pans at last year’s party, even though it had been wholly unintentional (and somewhat fortuitous as matters had turned out).

Saucepan regarded her red hair and green eyes, but thought better of making an impertinent remark.

“But Madam. This is my very best formal kitchenwear. And I am wearing waistcoat and breeches beneath in true Hobbit fashion, I can assure you.”

“Well, if you say so. I trust that Sergeant Saucy’s Barrow Downs Club Band will be making an appearance later.”

“All in good time,” replied Saucepan, winking and tapping his nose with his finger. “But first I must deliver my gifts and secure myself some refreshment. Farewell for now, Mistress Elf.”

Piosenniel grinned affectionately, and took the sensible precaution of clapping her hands over her ears, as the shiny figure clanked and clattered his way through the crowds, stopping every so often to exchange greeting with those he knew.

Lëowen · 05-01-2004, 01:58 PM

Lëowen wandered through the gate with a few other arriving guests, and on to the party field itself. It was pretty crowded already, but it would get even more so as the party got started. But it was a nice day out, and the party promised to be most excellent.

Her friends were here somewhere, she knew. Now she just had to find them. Noticing the colourful pavillions rising above the crowd, Leo made her way over to one. It'd be easiest to check here first, anyway.

The first several pavillions were empty, and a few more along the way had been claimed by other Downers. Perhaps her friends didn't have a pavillion after all. She weaved through people and picnic tables, heading for the main crowd again.

'Leo! Over here!'

'Keld! Firi!' Leo sprinted back to a bright blue pavillion she had missed checking. They grinned at her as she pulled out a few green and black acorns out of her pockets and gave each of them one. 'Happy birthday!'

05-01-2004, 01:34 PM	#1
Ithaeliel Cornus Caliga Join Date: Apr 2002 Location: Five-hundred-twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes from here Posts: 710	The sun was hot and high at that time of day, and clouds were scattered in wisps across the deep blue sky that hung over a traveling procession of elves. Their path took them through the Shire, where today it was serene and peaceful... supposedly. Suddenly, the procession came upon a large field packed with people of all different shapes and sizes (hobbits, elves, humans, even a performing orc!), all of whom were making a great deal of noise and dancing around like a bunch of drunken fools. One elf who seemed to be quite occupied with the gathering was sporting a bright red mop of hair and glancing about with emerald eyes. One elf in the procession turned to another and whispered, "Contact lenses, perhaps?" The other shook his head in disdain and continued walking. The first elf, however, was interested in the spirited display, and she gazed curiously at the people there. I do wish that I could stay and see what they're celebrating... "Lady Ithaeliel, we cannot make delays to accomodate your distractions," one of the elder elves called back. Ithaeliel scowled, and when no one was looking she took off her pendant and hid it. Eager to join the party, she called ahead to the front of her group. "I have lost my pendant while we have walked through these green hills! I must go back to find it. I'll rejoin all of you after a time. Namarië, for a little while, friends!" Ithaeliel ran back over the hill to to field as quickly as possible, trying to think what she could offer to the partygoers... __________________ That best portion of a good man's life, His little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love. .................William Wordsworth

05-01-2004, 01:40 PM	#2
Estelyn Telcontar Princess of Skwerlz Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: where the Sea is eastwards (WtR: 6060 miles) Posts: 7,500	On the back of a horse there rode an Elf. Not one of your humble pack-ponies, sturdy but without lineage, laden with burdens; nor a huge war-horse, tall, broad and massive, made to carry the weight of an armoured knight. No, this was a shieldmaiden´s horse, and that means style! Falafel´s dainty hooves galloped across the Brandywine Bridge with just enough effort to make her dusky flanks glisten attractively, a grace that was worthy of the maiden she bore, and exactly the right speed to allow her mistress´golden tresses to flow behind her to great effect. Hobbit mouths opened as hobbit chins dropped in admiration; such a sight was rare in the Shire! Merisuwyniel´s violet eyes sparkled with anticipation; after weeks and months of questing, a party would be a welcome change. She knew only what she had read on the notice fastened to the gate of Bree (or was it ´Beer´? The names were confusingly similar.). She had no doubt that she would enjoy herself among the many people who accepted the invitation. She had been puzzled at first by the suggestion that each guest provide some food, since the Fellow/Galship had not prepared a meal on the road that day. However, the pleasant Forest* through which she passed had yielded berries and other fruits, which she placed in a willow wicker basket she had quickly woven with the skill all Elves have for handicrafts. Then there was the matter of a gift; she was not sure whether birthday presents were given to or by the host of such occasions in the Shire, but just to be sure, she found an unusual leaf in her baggage, placed there by her inventor. It was large, fluted and fan-shaped, from a tree that grows in the southern lands where her creator was currently travelling, and it would serve well to bring cool air to the host, if his barrow became too crowded or discussions too heated. Thus prepared, she jumped off Falafel when she reached the Party Field. The mare needed no tether; she was well-trained to be exactly where her mistress needed her at precisely the right time. Merisuwyniel placed her gift and the fruits on the tables and looked around to see who was already there. (* Some may find the Old Forest gloomy, even depressing and dangerous, but for this Elven shieldmaiden, the sun found its way to light up her shinig hair, the branches were careful not to tangle it, and trees and bushes vied with each other to give her their fruits, twigs and whatever else she needed. Such is the life of a Mary Sue!) Last edited by Estelyn Telcontar; 05-01-2004 at 01:54 PM.

05-01-2004, 02:05 PM	#3
Alatariel Telemnar Shade of Carn Dûm Join Date: Apr 2003 Location: watching the ants closing in Posts: 292	Alatáriel made her way through the growing crowd, in search of someone to talk to, seeing as how she was forever bored. She wore a dark purple dress and her hair hung loosely on her shoulders. In her arms she was carrying some acorn pie. 'Keld!! Firi!! Lëo!!' Ala ran up to them to see that Firi was serving some tea. She looked at it, raising an eyebrow. 'Its almond flavoured, isn't it?!' 'No...' Firi gave a shifty glance. 'Ah, well anyhow, Happy Birthday!!' Ala whacked everyone with a rose she had been carrying. Last edited by Alatariel Telemnar; 05-01-2004 at 02:20 PM.

05-01-2004, 03:07 PM	#4
Meneltarmacil Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Jun 2003 Location: The bottom of the ocean, discussing philosophy with a giant squid Posts: 2,254	A rider on a very impressive brown stallion rode up to the gates and dismounted. As the party attendants took the horse to the stable, the rider, Meneltarmacil, entered. Dressed in a dark green cloak with gold embroidery, with a long sword on a silver belt at his waist and sporting long blond hair, Meneltarmacil had just gotten to the party field when Alatariel Telemnar whacked him with a rose she had been carrying. "Hey! What's that all about?!" he called after her, but she had already run off. He headed to the stage, got up on it, and began to recite a poem. There once was a spooky old wight, Who once made the greatest website, We are all here today, Because we all wish to say, Happy birthday to this wonderful site! Meneltarmacil walked over to the table by the Wight's barrow, then reached into the folds of his cloak and pulled out a small sliver figure in the likeness of a great eagle with green jewels for eyes. He laid it on the table, then walked away. He conveniently forgot to mention the enchantment that made it give an extremely loud and high-pitched scream whenever somebody other than him tried to pick it up. He took out the big bag of tortilla chips and the spicy nacho cheese mix that he himself had perfected and put them both on the food table. "Ah, Imladris, I see you've also arrived. Looks like we're going to have to take a break from fighting the Mouth of Sauron at the Hills of Evendim for a few days. But hey, I'm not complaining. What do you think of the festivities?" __________________ I ♣ baby seals.

05-01-2004, 01:58 PM	#8
Lëowen Haunting Spirit Join Date: Jun 2003 Location: my computer chair, being smothered by my impossibly large cat Posts: 93	Lëowen wandered through the gate with a few other arriving guests, and on to the party field itself. It was pretty crowded already, but it would get even more so as the party got started. But it was a nice day out, and the party promised to be most excellent. Her friends were here somewhere, she knew. Now she just had to find them. Noticing the colourful pavillions rising above the crowd, Leo made her way over to one. It'd be easiest to check here first, anyway. The first several pavillions were empty, and a few more along the way had been claimed by other Downers. Perhaps her friends didn't have a pavillion after all. She weaved through people and picnic tables, heading for the main crowd again. 'Leo! Over here!' 'Keld! Firi!' Leo sprinted back to a bright blue pavillion she had missed checking. They grinned at her as she pulled out a few green and black acorns out of her pockets and gave each of them one. 'Happy birthday!' __________________ Be individual! Join the millions of other people also being individual! Prevent Merry Abuse! Join S.A.M!

05-01-2004, 03:36 PM	#5
symestreem Face in the Water Join Date: Dec 2003 Posts: 728	A figure slithered down the inside of the wooden fence and landed in a heap at the bottom. Symestreem picked herself up and dusted off her cream breeches, blue shirt and silver tunic; then she checked on the contents of the large pot she carried under one arm. Edging through the crowd, she deposited the pot of macaroni and cheese on one of the tables. Then she nervously approached the mound under the mallorn. She fished a rolled-up scroll tied with gold and silver out of her pack and deposited it on the table with the other mathoms. Making a deep bow in the direction of the mound, she made her way back to the fence. Then she swung the odd-looking instrument off of her back and went to find the dance floor.

05-01-2004, 03:51 PM	#6
Nerindel Spirited Weaver of Fates Join Date: Apr 2003 Location: In an endless sea of dreams! Posts: 827	Nerindel looked down one last time at the emerald green dress that her friend Léspheria had insisted she wear to the party. The intricate gold leaf embroidery on the rather tight (well at least in her opinion) low cut bodice shimmered as she walked and she felt more than sure that at some point she would stand on the hem of the flowing skirts and fall flat on her face. She had been all ready to attend the celebration in her usual rust coloured breeches, her subtle calf length hunting boots, forest green tunic, and with her leather armour firmly in place, her weapons belted to her waist and her long golden hair tied back in an untidy but controlled mass at the nape of her neck. However, the Lady Léspheria was having none of it, she had her attendants ambush her and nearly drown her in a steaming hot basin of water. “You are an elf maiden and should present yourself accordingly!” the elven woman had admonished. “You have spent so much time in the company of the rangers and elven hunters, that you have forgotten what it is to be a lady!” Nerindel laughed remembering her friend’s admonishments. She had off course been completely right, all her adult life had be spent on one adventure or another, causing her company to consisted of mostly men and rarely was she required of her to put on the airs and graces of her kindred. “And why should I start now!” she laughed to herself. So hitching up the delicate skirts in one hand and carrying a large plate of wild berry muffins in the other, she strode purposely towards the wonderful variety of smell’s and sounds coming from the party field. Her grey eyes casually scanned the many guest looking for a familiar face in the sea of people. Finding none, she placed her plate of muffins on an already crowded table, then passing the ale tent set up by the green dragon staff she grabbed two foaming tankards and made her way to the spreading Mallorn that sat in the centre of the celebration. Carefully placing one of the ales near the dark entrance to the Barrow, she raised her own in toast, ‘Happy birthday old boy!” she said with a wink, then draining her tankard, she took out her gift and placed it on the table along side the others, the hand carved pipe looking slightly out of place among the shiny treasures the other guests had chosen to bring. With a shrug, she moved on allowing the other guests who followed behind her to bestow their gifts and best wishes, while she looked to refill her tankard and find a familiar face.

05-01-2004, 05:01 PM	#7
The Saucepan Man Corpus Cacophonous Join Date: Jan 2003 Location: A green and pleasant land Posts: 8,390	The pleasant, happy sounds of a party in full swing were suddenly dispersed as a terrible cacophony (a corpus of cacophony no less) arose from somewhere in the vicinity of the Party Tree. There, on the ground below it lay a jumble of pots pans and kettles, their metallic surfaces reflecting the light from the lanterns above and shimmering and glittering much like a mirrorball. Those nearby remarked how peculiar it was that a collection of kitchenware should fall from the Tree. “Mr Pan Man, must you always arrive like this?” said Piosenniel, standing over the pile and glaring down at it sternly. The pile of pans lay there for a while, before slowly organising itself into a human shape. A wizened face crowned with a large silver saucepan peered out. “Eh? What’s that? Alive? Yes, thank you, Madam. I am quite alright. Somewhat shaken, but certainly alive,” the Saucepan Man replied as he stood up. “I said must you always arrive like this?” Pio retorted impatiently. “Ah, Mistress Piosseniel,” said Saucepan, blinking in recognition. “Erm, yes, I am afraid so. It is the only way I know.” The mischeivous glint in his eyes softened Pio’s stance somewhat, although she still had a bone or two to pick with him. “And what, may I ask, were you doing in the Party Tree?” “Hearty glee? Yes I …” began Saucepan, but thought better of it on catching the glare in her green eyes. “Er, well, when I heard of the party, I crept up there to polish my pots and pans. You know how much I feel at home in trees. I was intending to arrive early to help with the preparations, but I … um … well … it was so comfortable up there that I’m afraid that I fell asleep. Still, it looks to be going well." Saucepan favoured Pio with his best practised sheepish grin, but she had not quite finished her admonishment. “And you call that Middle-earth wear, do you?" she said, indicating his metallic attire. She still had not quite forgiven him for clouting her with one of his pans at last year’s party, even though it had been wholly unintentional (and somewhat fortuitous as matters had turned out). Saucepan regarded her red hair and green eyes, but thought better of making an impertinent remark. “But Madam. This is my very best formal kitchenwear. And I am wearing waistcoat and breeches beneath in true Hobbit fashion, I can assure you.” “Well, if you say so. I trust that Sergeant Saucy’s Barrow Downs Club Band will be making an appearance later.” “All in good time,” replied Saucepan, winking and tapping his nose with his finger. “But first I must deliver my gifts and secure myself some refreshment. Farewell for now, Mistress Elf.” Piosenniel grinned affectionately, and took the sensible precaution of clapping her hands over her ears, as the shiny figure clanked and clattered his way through the crowds, stopping every so often to exchange greeting with those he knew.