Unforbidden

[dancing spawn of ungoliant]

Dancing spawn was prancing her way to the infamous barrows. She visited there so often that she would have known the way there even blindfolded. On the spur of the moment she closed her eyes just to prove it to herself. A second later she tripped and fell flat on her face.

Spawn gathered her legs and other body parts from the ground, stood up and disbelief filled her. She shivered while gazing a gargantuan white barrier that had appeared on her way. After getting over the initial shock, Spawn tried to climb over the barrier. She tried to dig a tunnel under it. She walked a few miles to see if one could go around it. She even taunted it wishing it would disappear but finally Spawn had to admit that there was some strange white force blocking her way that was greater than her little means.

A night passed and a new day came but the White Annoyance remained the same. But lo! What was happening? Dark mist drifted through the barrier and thunder and the sound of clanging pans filled the air. Spawn stepped forward and there she saw all the friendly faces (or their reminders) of her friends. The horrible white threat had been defeated.

Of course this was worth celebrating! Spawn greeted the host and her friends. "Barrow, sweet Barrow", she sighed with a blissful smile on her lips.

[Kath]

Kath threw herself through the doors, nearly knocking over poor Bethberry on her way inside. The reason for this haste was her fear that if she didn't get in fast enough it might be locked to her again, and possibly this time for longer. The sheer horror she had felt the night before when she opened up her e-mail and tried to get onto the beloved site, only to find Error Messages and Secret Internet Languages that she could make head nor tail of, yet knew they were telling her she could not get in.

In grief she left and went to bed hoping that it was simply her computer being it's usual temperamental self, but when she awoke the next day to find that no one could get on all hope left her. The short one tried to comfort her with confusing words about Apache but it was of no avail. She continually tried to get on, beating her mouse against the mat until it squeaked in distress, but nothing would work.

Then, suddenly, the familiar black background appeared. She stared in shock, hardly believing her eyes. She quickly clicked on everything in sight to make sure she wasn't dreaming and the screen stayed open and no nasty blue words appeared. Cheering she returned to her friends and screamed the news at them before running back to the site.

Slowing down as her reminiscing caused her to realise that all was now well again, she stopped just short of the buffet table that had been generously heaped, and helped herself, glad to be back where she belonged.

[Estelyn Telcontar]

Apprehensively, Estelyn entered the woods and guided her feet in the direction of the very first of many pools therein. She dipped one foot into its water hesitantly, almost expecting to feel the solid ground at the bottom yet again. When she felt nothing, she held her breath, then jumped into the pond resolutely. Almost at once, a blackness appeared before her eyes, but rather than being discouraged or fearful, she was glad of it. Then pale green letters, interspersed with golden lines, could be seen. She moved about and found friendly greetings, wise words, and smiling faces. She had returned to her world, back where she belonged. All was well.

° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

Earlier that very day, she had jumped without thinking into that pool and was shocked when her feet hit the ground and the water of the pond evaporated about her ankles, rising in a forbidding, impenetrable white mist. She had stepped back and tried again from a different angle, then yet another, before realizing the horrible truth – the way was closed! Was her favorite world lost forever? She could not believe it.

In an attempt to find friends who could help her, she jumped into another pond. And indeed, the world into which it led was there, white perhaps, and occupied by less people, hidden amidst the mIRCy atmosphere and much wallpaper. But having taken speech with a friend there, she was cheered.

Yet another pool had led to a meeting place unpeopled, yet with messages that comforted her heart, for she then knew that the entrance was indeed closed to all, not only to her, and that it would soon be opened again.

She tried out several pools which led to various other worlds she had entered in the past. One, which was once the home of a great city, was now also turned to white mist, and she wondered if the myriad persons who had once lived there were gone, or if it had only been moved. One world was populated, yet all activity there seemed delayed to a slow motion, for messages were few and far between. That was uninteresting for her lively spirit, and she soon tired of being there.

Mindful of the old adage concerning the reluctance of observed cookery to come to a point, she sensibly decided to turn aside to another nearby woods. There also were worlds to be entered, yet these had the form of papers, folded together. She let her hand glide over them, finally choosing one. Then she opened it and entered into a lighthearted, amusing, enjoyable world. Having chosen sunny, quiet surroundings, the hours passed quickly for her, and when she returned from that world, her patience was rewarded. Her favorite pool was opened again.

Delighted at the wonderful idea of a celebratory party, she greeted Bêthb - um, Feyberry. She waved the bottle of a bubbly, slightly intoxicating beverage that she had brought with her. "Anyone want a glass?" she asked invitingly.


(*with apologies to C. S. Lewis for borrowing and ruining a perfectly good idea of his)

[Alcarillo]

Alcarillo was relieved to find the Barrow-Downs clear of the thick mist that had hidden the tombs from sight. Just yesterday, he ventured into the silent hills, only to find nobody waiting. The entire land was covered with an ominous fog, through which no light penentrated. The whiteness covered the land in all directions, and when he entered, Alcarillo could not see his own hands held before his face. This had of course puzzled him; never before had such fog covered the Barrow-Downs. As he left the Downs he had fortunately met a giant spider who told him that she had also tried to enter earlier, but to no avail. The fog covered everything.

But today, the Barrow-Downs were free of the sinister fog, and the only mist lay far off in the distance. The wide, open fields between the tombs and crypts were filled with friends and familiar faces. The darkness had passed, cast away by the power of the Barrow-Wight, and the merriment resumed.

[Glirdan]

Glirdan woke after having a horrible nightmare. He called his best friend Wilwa to see if she was having the same problem. " Oh Wilwa! I just had a most horrible dream! I tought I was banned from my own barrow!" But then he recieved a jolt back into what people call the Rëal World. She was having the same problem as well! We quickly gathered are wits together. "Maybe it's just are area that is having problems," Wilwa suggested. "I'll go on and see if anyone else is having trouble,". And so she did. Then we recieved another horrible jolt. She talked to someone who claimed to be a short prince and someone with two heads, and they were having the same problem as well! "Oh Wilwa! What are we ever going to do!?"

"We will wait and see what happens," she responded. All that long, horrible day, I tried and tried to re-enter the barrow that I grew accustomed to. But to no avail. So I went to sleep on the cold, hard ground in front of it. When I awoke in the morning, I saw a light coming through the door. As I stood up, the door opened and someone was standing there! It was Bêthberry and she was dressed as if she was going to a party. "Come in!" she cried. "Come in and reejoice! You may now return to your barrow!"

"Oh thank you my good lady!" As I stepped in, I noticed that there was a crowd, and lo! there were streamers and banners (all deathly looking af course) and it was a party! Everyone was there, Alcarillo, Estelyn, Kath, Dancing Spawn, Meneltarmacil, The Saucepan Man, Lalwendë, alatar, the phantom, and of course, my best friend Wilwa along with a number of others. It was sure to be a merry party. Only two things, or should I say people, were missing. " Where is Gil-Galad and Eomer!?"

[arcticstorm]

He had left the barrow earlier in the day to enhance his studies of history, and when he returned later in the day, he only saw a strange message. error 403: or in the common tounge: "The way is shut. It was made by those who are dead. And the dead keep it."
He found this to be a little bit odd since he knew that it ws made by the dead, but what does "the way is shut" mean? Does it mean that his new home had blocked off the way to the barrow? While he was pondering this problem and trying unsuccessfully to enter, he was able to converse with others who were having the same trouble and arcticstorm knew that it was not his problem solely, which made the whole issue even more muddy. Had this place somehow ceased to exist? then almost twenty-four hours after the shutting of the door, it reopened. Arcticstorm was pleased and entered in to join in the celebration

[Meneltarmacil]

Meneltarmacil, having satisfied his hunger and thirst with a can of soda and some slices of all-meat pizza, spoke up.

"You know, I haven't been happier to be on the Downs in my entire time as a BDer. It seems one really does not appreciate and treasure something until it is gone. I hope this will help us appreciate our time together more."

His sentimental moment abruptly ended. Menel switched to a completely different topic.

"I have a theory that I'd like to share with you all. I have come to the conclusion that there is definitely something...not exactly normal about Tom Bombadil. He talks to the Hobbits a lot, but says little about his true nature, as if trying to stay out in the open but avoid suspicion. He knows much about the evil beings in the area as well, as if he was somehow associated with them. I think Tom Bombadil is most likely a werewolf trying to avoid the noose."

Menel then wrote something on a piece of parchment and laid said parchment on the table. It read:
++Tom Bombadil

[Holbytlass]

Drat that Tom Bombadill! Only he could have sang a song so powerrful as to render our beautiful Downs useless though he be many leagues away! But the ever wondering Holbytlass is greatful that it was not long-winded.
Though she wondered if The Barrow-wight and fellow moderators may have been angry with her, but nay, they give fair warning of any disapproval of wrongdoings. She was glad to know there would be no 1969 as her last visit!
Then she wondered if the vessel by which she travels to the Downs (computer) may be the problem. Ever she searched for a way in, by system restore and reboots and even wondered if perhaps she should change to (Middle)Earth-link.
Then she wondered if she couldn't get back in, would Encaitare be mad for spoiling her werewolf game? Or others for not fulfilling her obligations because she volunteered to mod the next one?
But, alas, she wondered nomore when her cyber-posts grew fat again from notifications of other fellower downers posting. And an email from Shelob consoling her that she was not alone.
Now Holbytlass wonders where the mead and party weinies are!