The Downie Awards Show

[Mithadan]

The orchestra tuned up as the audience filed in for the show. A slight commotion occurred when Astoria Baggins and Hybernia Longbottom argued about who had been saving seats for whom, but the prompt arrival of three burly Uruks silenced the argument before it went very far.

When, at last, all were seated, the band struck up a lively tune and a troupe of Dwarves began a vigorous hip-hop dance routine which ended with the Dwarves waggling their bikinied bottoms at the audience. Several Elves howled in protest but the act was otherwise well-received.

Then Mithadan took the stage. He waved happily and bowed to the audience seemingly oblivious to the fact that the predominant sound generated by the mighty throng was that of chirping crickets. Stepping up to the podium, he spoke. "Welcome to the First Downie Awards Show. Long in coming and intricately planned, our show tonite will highlight some of the noteable posters who have graced the Barrow-Downs during the past year or so. We're also here to thank the inimitable founder of this site for his hard work and dedication."

He waved at a private box near the stage from which came streams of green smoke and mist. The Barrow-Wight raised his skelatal hand in acknowledgment, to the enthusiastic cheers of the audience.

When the cheers died down, Mithadan spoke again. "In honor of the Chief Wight, our first musical guest would like to dedicate a song to BW..."

Power chords of electric blues guitar rang out and the lead singer shouted, "And away we go!"

On the day he was born,
the nurses all gathered round,
to gaze in wide wonder,
at the joy they had found.
The head nurse spoke up,
said "Leave this one alone..."
She could tell right away,
he was bad to the bone!

As the song concluded, Mithadan again stepped forward. "The first Downie tonight is the coveted Betty Crocker Jello Mold Award for the Members Who Most Enthusiatically Welcome Newcomers to the Barrow-Downs! And the winner is..." He tore open an envelope. "We have a tie! The members who most enthusiatically welcome newcomers are...Burrahobbit, Mhoram and red!"

Michael Jackson's "Bad" was played by the loudspeakers as the crowd clapped hesitantly. Mithadan continued. "Burra, Mho and red couldn't be here tonite, so accepting the award on their behalf are..." He squinted at the teleprompter, then straightened in alarm. "Gothmog and the Seven or so Balrogs."

The tall, dark and fiery spirits entered from the wings, but of course lacked any as they had all been eaten during the party. Gothmog stepped to the podium and took the three gold tombstone shaped awards. He ignored the fact that Mithadan did not try to shake his hand.

"On behalf of our three friends, Burrahobbit, Mhoram and red, all fellows near and dear to our hearts, we accept these Awards and promise many years more of appropriate welcomes to new members...and to the chefs who thought it would be funny to serve fried Balrog wings, we know who you are and where to find you..." With much snapping of whips, the Balrogs exited the stage.

[the phantom]

"Hey Phantom, weren't you the one who started the balrog wing thing?" asked Gimli as the balrogs walked past.

"Shut up!" The Phantom whispered fiercly as he continued to applaud.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: the phantom ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan stood backstage looking about frantically. The place was nearly deserted. "Cami! Where are all the Presenters?"

"They're all either drunk or not here yet, or..." She pointed to Helkahothion who was babbling almost incoherently. "I can't do it! I can't give out THAT award...!"

Mithadan sighed and grabbed a trophy at random. He did a double take at the inscription, then shrugged and carried it onto the stage.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he said. "RPGs have become a popular part of the Barrow-Downs experience. But some take it a bit more...seriously than others. This next Downie Award is for one of these people. The I-can-quit-anytime-I-want-I'm-not-addicted Award for the Member Stretched Too Thin in Her RPGs is....Amanaduial the Archer!"

The audience applauded and looked around for Aman...

[Lyra Greenleaf]

"Woo hoo!" Lyra got up on her feet and cheered for Aman, hoping that her theme music might be Beatles related?

She turned to Rytien and whispered "Pity we never got our food fight. I think if we start any trouble here we might get chucked out!"

[mark12_30]

"Yaaaah! Ar-cher! Ar-cher!! Ar-cher!!!" thundered the crowd expectantly.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan looked about for Aman. He realized that no music was playing and whispered into his microphone, "Cue 'Paperback Writer' by the Beatles..."

[Diamond18]

The raucous crowd continued to cheer, chanting, "Archer, Archer, she's our Aman, if she can't write it, no one can!" Then, the Beatles music blaring over the loudspeakers put the impromptu rhyming to an end.

[Ainaserkewen]

Ainaserkewen walked into the hall walking arm in arm with Veanca, who had got off work to come to the awards with her.
"Where are we going to sit?" asked Veanca.
Ainaserkewen looked around and reconised the few sober faces that were seated. The drunk ones were still surgically removing their faces from the party floor.
Ainaserkewen giggled at this thought.
"What?" Veanca asked.
"Nothing." she said.
"Hey!" they looked over at the Phantom who was sitting away in the crowd.
"Where've you guys been all weekend?" he called.
"In Mexico!" cried Veanca.
On friday afternoon, after the whole fiasco with Reesha, who promised to be good, Veanca got off work for the weekend, after another hour of being bored at the party, Ainaserkewen said, "Wanna get outta her?" Veanca nodded. So they took Blue eyes white dragon, and headed south. It was a very romantic weekend party for two.
Veanca is perfect, thought Ainaserkewen.
They found seats near the front and Ainaserkewen excused herself to go see where she should be backstage before she presented her award.
She's perfect. Thought Veanca, and he sat back in his seat and waited for the show to move along.

[dragoneyes]

Thoriel stood, clapping and cheering, and joined in with the chants of "Ar-cher Ar-cher!" all of her sleepiness forgotten in the light of the awards.

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Sophia dragged her reluctant party into the auditorium. Alatariel and Thoriel were chattering among themselves about whether or not there was going to be this-and-that award and who would win it. Sophia looked frantically around the auditorium. The seats were filling up quickly. Where could she find seats for a party this big? And was she really the only one in the group that cared?

No, she thought with relief, as Annunfuiniel whispered in her ear. "Look, I see five seats up there," pointing to the second row.

"We need six!" Sophia said in despair, "I promised I'd save one for Alaklondewen." She looked around frantically, but everywhere seemed full, and people were starting to mutter about the group of people blocking their view of the stage.

Fin rolled his eyes and waved his hand with the air of someone who had everything under control. "Just ask that Balrog to move down one, I'm sure he won't mind." With no more ado he proceeded to do so. As the Balrog moved over obligingly he commented, "See, nice fellows, Balrogs." They filed into the row as uproarious applause rocked the audience with the announcement of Aman as the winner of the overstretched RPGer award.

As the applause died away they settled into their seats, Sophia between Fin and Annun, and they sat back waiting for the next presenter.

[Cuthalion]

"'Where are all the presenters', indeed. Cuthalion thought, having overheard the mods talking amongst themselves. "Just because we....or at least I am not the most flamboyant member on the Downs, rrrrrr!" He was still grumbling over having read the last 8 pages of the Party thread in which he hadn't gotten to participate and thoughts of doing bodily harm to Anuion floated pleasantly through his head. Maika turned to him and looked at him quizzically. He smiled in return...and kept on thinking.

[LePetitChoux]

LePetit gingerly pushed open a door which led into a small room ful of random props. As she tiptoed her way across the innumerable carnival masks and wigs, a thought struck her. Wait a minute...oh fairypoop it! Of all the doors, you HAD to choose the emergency exit!
She plunged her hand into her deep pocket and retrieved a torch. A brief inspection of the room showed another door marked "Auditorium" straight ahead of her. She opened it and seamlessly joined the crowd which was chanting "Archer, Archer, she's our Aman, if she can't write it, no one can!"

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami grinned expectently, then plopped down into a chair. She'd spent half the morning acting as the "gopher" girl for Mithadan who was already showing a few signs of being frazzled, even though the awards' ceremony had barely begun. She'd spent the rest of the morning deep in conference with Bethberry and Piosenniel, working on a few little plans of their own.

Cami had a good idea why Aman had not immediately come in to collect her award. The Green Dragon had been crowded with some good natured but raucous newcomers in recent days. Aman had been given the unenviable task of instructing them in proper methods of posting. Those who failed to respond positively had been sentenced to a stint at washing dishes, which had recently become one of the least desired chores in all of the Barrow-downs. Aman's task was to supervise the Inn, which was enough to give anyone a very large headache.

In any case, Aman certainly deserved to get such a prestigious award. The girl had a prodigious appetite for RPGs, and a genuine talent for writing. So Cami joined in with the rest of the audience who were thumping their feet and calling out Aman's name in appreciation of her skills.

[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

The muffled sound of enthusiastic applause drilled its demanding way through the tartan alcoholic haze in which Squatter's brain was marinading.

Realising that a change might be as good as a rest, he acquired another scotch and made his way to the auditorium, its plush edges now further softened by the effects of his party-long binge. All in all it had been a successful reception and he was now in a sufficiently receptive mood to appreciate the speeches that were sure to come. Emergencies, such as on-stage point-scoring would be met with the contents of the large hip-flask in his pocket, and he supplemented this with another glass of champagne, which he piloted expertly from a tray of its fellows en route to the rows of seats.

Finding as unobtrusive a seat as possible that still afforded anything like a view of the stage, he flopped into it and sipped his bubbly delicately. He was now in the mood to applaud enthusiastically even the most lacklustre oration; and unless he should be required to stand up or say anything intelligible the evening ought to progress swimmingly.

'This will do nicely,' he mused to himself as he awaited the advent of the next award, filling in by clapping the last one despite the handicap of having missed both its category and its recipient.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: The Squatter of Amon Rûdh ]

[mark12_30]

LinGalad felt a nudge at his elbow. "This Aman must be some writer if my mom is this impressed, " said a husky voice, and LinGalad looked down in surprise at the top of a curly head. "S'cuse me." The hobbit edged past LinGalad and sat beside him. LinGalad sighed, not really wanting company, but the young hobbit did not ask his permission. LinGalad felt more motion around his knees and was astonished to see four hobbit children push past. "Can't see." "Don't shove." "What's going on?" "Stand on the seats."

"Hey, Mister Elf, can I sit on your shoulders?" asked the smallest one.

"That's Maura. He doesn't weigh much. But be careful, he's little," warned the hobbit who was apparently in charge of the four little ones. LinGalad was about to object, but the hobbit toddler was climbing up his arm. Redfaced, LinGalad sputtered a little. He had previously been hoping to be joined by some other elves, but now he changed his mind and hoped that nobody would see him with these raucous hobbits.

"ARCHER! ARCHER! SHE'S OUR AMAN!" howled the five hobbit-boys, and LinGalad winced.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Bêthberry]

Bêthberry applauded Aman's award until her hands hurt. At least the activity shook out the stiffness caused by all that writing this morning. Then, a glance at Mithadan, who was frantically pointing to his watch, suggested that he was worried the awards show would run overtime.

But she had a terrible problem. None of her awardees were present. Or had even answered any PMs. What was she to do? She decided to play for time, and cued the musicians to play another Beatles' tune, We all live in a yellow submarine.

[ElentariGreenleaf]

Elentari looked up as she heard the Award ceremony begin. She now joined in with the chanting of "Ar-cher! Ar-cher! Ar-cher!", and walked over to Thoriel.

"A,an definantly deserved that award!" Elentari said to Thoriel.

"I agree," replied Thoriel. "She's always working herself so hard in the RPGs to make her posts good. Remember in Cirith Ungol?"

"My, how could I forget?" said Elentari. "And now she's doing a grand job helping me with my own game!"

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: ElentariGreenleaf ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman, arriving late, attempted to quietly slip in a side door under the stage without anyone noticing her. She had been more than a little busy in the Shire, attempting to sort of a few homicidal characters and sending enough PMs to collate a small novel in the Green Dragon. As she entered quietly, she heard the first award be presented and hoped it was only the first, smiling to herself when she heard what it was for. As the balrogs descended, she looked around for a place to sit as the next one was being announced. But she had no such luck...

"Ladies and Gentlemen," she heard Mithadan announce. "RPGs have become a popular part of the Barrow-Downs experience. But some take it a bit more...seriously than others. This next Downie Award is for one of these people. The I-can-quit-anytime-I-want-I'm-not-addicted Award for the Member Stretched Too Thin in Her RPGs is....Amanaduial the Archer!"

Aman froze behind the stage, stuck between cheering and cursing.

"Ar-cher, Ar-cher, Ar-cher..." She heard from in the main part of the auditorium. She ran her hands quickly over her dress and the balance shifted to cursing. Oh, and she didn't have her speech with her..

'Paperback Writer' came on and Aman took a deep breath before coming around the stage and climbing onto it, smiling slightly nervously, butterflies doing summersaults in her stomach. Butterflies....lumpin' great swans wouldnt do these justice. She walked across the stage and took the award from Mithadan, shaking his hand, then thinking what the heck and giving him a small kiss on the lips. The crowd roared with laughter and Aman was rather relieved she couldnt see Helka anywhere nearby.

She held the award up gratefully to the private box high in the auditorium, where she accurately guessed that the Barrow-Wight sat, although she could only see tendrils of green smoke behind the glass, then turned to the rest of the auditorium. She ran her fingers through her hair, which had worked itself loose and took a deep breath, smiling as she saw Piosenniel sitting in the front row, waving a pair of cheerleading pom-poms energetically.

"Thankyou everyone for this award. I really didnt expect to receieve a Downie at all in this its first year, but hey, its always good to be appreciated!" She said, then inspected the inscription on the trophy once more and mock-frowned slightly and added, "I think.
"Thanks to everyone who has been in the RPGs I have taken part in, for being so great, and for making them all so special, every one of them, all..." She stopped, doing a quick calculation in her head. "...twenty one of them. Thanks to the moderators, especially Mithadan, Piosenniel and Child who have been so great recently, especially Pio, for lending me her beautiful Inn." She grinned at the pom-pom waving elf in the front row. "And to Marileangorifurnimaluim" Aman managed the correct pronunciation and recieved another cheer before she went on. "who, although she may not know it, got me into RPGing one year ago. Oh, and thanks also to, and from, Aman, Bhanaka, Elanor, Huina, Escara, Hreeza, Tallin, Aenara, Nariah, Arthain, Nuhrive, Kane, Raven, Tanwen, Fionel, Tafferis and Brando. Thankyou!" She kissed the trophy and went, still grinning, over to Lyra to sit in the seat next to her.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: Amanaduial the archer ]

[piosenniel]

Pio watched from behind the curtain as Aman gave her acceptance speech. Nice going, kid!’ she said giving her the thumbs-up.

She brushed the dirt from her tux as she waited for the next presenter and straightened the ties and tiara on the Wargs. ‘Get me the playlist Mithadan worked up for the presenters, my dears,’ she whispered from behind the thick red curtains. ‘There’s a possible revision I need to make.’ Her fingers felt for the disc in her inner pocket. ‘Got to love those old tunes,’ she grinned, humming softly to herself.

She peeked through the end of the curtain, spying Cami sitting in one of the seats. Pio muttered loudly, ‘What’s she doing relaxing out there? She should be back here writing that . . .’

Carchmoroth nudged the Elf’s leg as Mithadan, his eternal list in his hands of ‘things to delegate’ came into view, head bent down over the long, trailing piece of paper, quill ticking off names of who could do what.

Pio pulled the Warg behind part of the curtain’s overlap, and waited for the admin to walk on by . . .

[HerenIstarion]

Greycvlad figure of HerenIstarion tried to behave as everybody, but his faltering and weak claps, though out of tune and rythm, were drawned in general clamour. Terrible hangover was hammering even the wisper into his head, and the shoutings of the crowd and banging orchestra were a real torture. He was not quite sure how exactly did he spend last several days. He was not even sure there were several days in between his peaceful sleep on the sofa and the sound of orchestra, which dragged him out of alcohol misted warmth into coldness of sobriety with chilling blows of a hangover. His fogged memories showed strange images - like drinking some orkish cocktails with Uruk guards and swearing friends and promising go hunting together 'like good old times', or arguing over absurdity of wings as theological issue unto the face of Gothmog, who, luckily was rather humoured by the fact

"did I do all that? Well, I have to believe I did. And what all this clamour is about? they are giving away free tombstones? hah, sure thing - the only left for a while after death must be a tombstone. Just if anyone would be kind enough to bring me some soda or something"

He looked around for a waiter with a tray of anything reviving, haven't found any, sighed and turned to the stage again

[Arafangwen]

Arafangwen entered the room in slight worry, she had PMed her recivie, but no responce so far. She decided to just find a seat and hope one of her friends would come soon to join her. There would be plenty of time for giving out the award.

Spotting an elf who seemed smothered in young hobbits, she decided he needed company and walked over to ask for a seat near him.

"Exuse me sir," she said trying sucsessfully to be heard above the crowd
"Would you mind terribly if I occupied this seat here beside you?"

[mark12_30]

LinGalad blushed again, beet-red, as Arafangwen smiled politely at him. "Certainly, gracious Lady, you are most welcome, " he said. But one of the hobbit-boys had squirmed into the seat Arafangwen had planned on taking. LinGalad groaned inwardly but there was nothing for it but to pick up the loud and squirming child and hold him. "Careful with Ban, and don't drop him," said the oldest boy. Standing to welcome the lady, LinGalad was painfully aware of Maura cheering and waving on his shoulders, and now Ban hooting and squealing in his arms. As he tried to bow he could feel Maura slipping; he caught him in time, but it was not a graceful moment.

But the seat was now empty, and LinGalad gestured to it. "Do join me please, Lady," was all he could sputter before Ban hollered again.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Auriel Haevasawen]

A woman too plain to be an elf but dressed like one anyway sneeked in a side door with a group of three other possibly mortal figures. One, a man named Mattius suggested they sit on the floor so no one noticed them. The odd woman said that Bethberry had invited them. They discussed the matter together in a huddle, (their usual practice when faced with any dilemma) and decided to follow Mattius' suggestion. After a quick squeal when the girl known as Brinn accidentally sat on the odd woman's hair, they were soon settled together waiting to see what this great meeting should be all about.

[*Varda*]

Squirming slightly in her seat, Poppy applauded along with the rest as Aman accepted her award. Unsure as to how she made it here, when last she was aware she was comfortably asleep on a chair in the Great Hall, she diverted her attention to gazing around the crowd.

Most had sobered down by now, or at worst were nursing a hangover. Quickly glancing upwards to check no elves were swinging madly around on a chandelier, Poppy curled up in her seat and once more fell asleep for the night.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: *Varda* ]

[Nuinatariel]

"Oh, I hope I'm not late!" Lëowen thought, as she appeared at the back of the auditorium. The large room was filled with cheering, yelling, and clapping. Lëowen pushed through the crowd, looking for a seat.


A few minutes later, Lëowen spotted two empty chairs near the front. Sighing with relief at not having to stand through the entire awards ceremony, she rushed over and sat down in one of them.

[Arafangwen]

"Thank you so much!" Arafangwen said with a stiffeled giggle at LinGalads akward antics on account of the small hobbits. Gently taking Maura from LinGalads arms Arafangwen proceded to sit in the chair offered to her.

"I have a friend named Maura!" she said as offering a piece of candy to quiet the child so she could speak to LinGalad but was immedietly jumped for more by the other three children. Relenting to the screams of "Gimme!" and "Mine! Mine! I want candy!", she gave the children a small bag of hard candies hoping they would quiet down which they did.

Arafangwen sighed with relife, though she loved children, hobbits tended to be more of a handfull in her opinion.

"So LinGalad," she said having heard the elfs name called by the small children " Were you attacked, or do you always surround yourself with such a group?" she asked with a small giggle nodding her head in the direction of the hobbits.

[Annunfuiniel]

Annun sat down beside Sophia and glanced around contently. Their places on the second row were superb; they could see and were seen – as was the intention.

"Well, that trophy surely fell on its aim", Annun prompted archly to Sophia, referring to Aman's RPG award. Her hands felt already sore of the intense clapping. Long night ahead, she sighed. Sophia seemed to stare forth in deep thought and Annun wondered what was bothering her. She nudged her shoulder

"Hey Soph, can you guess without looking which too revellers just sat behind us?" The elf finally came round and sniffed. "Well, judging by the air those would be Squatter and H-I", she smirked and they burst into hearty laughter.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[kittiewhirl1677]

Eladoriel sighed.

"This is stupid. Menelien won't listen, especially now that Trippo's joined her. Grr. I'll just head off to the Award Hall, then."

Eladoriel walked off, glancing back worriedly at her friend, still dangling off the chandelier with a hippo...

"Hope she gets out of there alive!"

Suddenly, Eladoriel heard a loud crash. She turned around in a whirl of her white dress, and saw Menelien hanging off the chandelier which was now dangling six feet above the ground. Trippo was on the ground right below the chandelier.

The chandelier itself was hanging off a very long, very thin wire. Three seconds later, the wire ripped in two and Menelien joined the hippo on the ground, the chandelier lying in pieces around them.

Eladoriel rushed to her friend, and helped her up. She would have helped Trippo up as well, but she lacked the strength(no offence intended, Trippo, just true facts).

"That was SO fun! I WANNA DO IT AGAIN!" Menelien shouted.

"Umm, Menel, uh, the Award Ceremony has just started, let's get going."

"BUT I WANT TO DO IT AGAIN!"

"GOD! Menelien, listen to me. The chandelier is in pieces, you two," Said Eladoriel gesturing at the elf and the hippo beside her, "you broke it."

Menelien then seemed to snap out of it.
"Oh... What... I can see clearly again! But I'm so tired..."

"No more alcohol for you, young lady." Eladoriel said, very strictly.

"Eladoriel, you are my friend, not my mother!" Menelien replied sleepily.

Eladoriel was getting very annoyed with the pointless conversation. She grabbed Menelien's hand, and together they ran off to the big double doors at the other end of the ballroom.

"Sorry Trippo!" Eladoriel shouted across the room at the hippo struggling to get up as the two elves ran.

Finally, they arrived at the awards ceremony. Not many people filled in the long rows of seats, as most of the party attendants were still rolling around drunk somewhere in the party hall... Eladoriel had a large choice of seats to choose from, and soon she started to get dizzy. Finally, she spotted a small, cozy area.

Holding Menelien by the hand, she walked over to the spot she saw. The occupants of the area were Arafangwen, an elf she didn't recognize, and five hobbit children. The elf seemed to be struggling with two of the small children that were giving him a particularly hard time.

Eladoriel walked up, and asked "Can my friend and I join you here?"

[mark12_30]

"Oh, it was definitely an attack. A clever leading feint, " he nodded at the oldest lad, and then gestured at the young boys "followed by a quick skirmish against my flank. I assure you I was quite taken off my guard. In fact, I-- ooof!" Ban gave an especially energetic squirm, kicking LinGalad in the ribs.

"I told you to be careful with Ban, he's easy to drop!" snapped the teenage hobbit. "Give him to me right now!"

LinGalad wasted no time surrendering the child, and then shot the teenager an irritated look. But no sooner had he sighed with relief than a larger child clambered onto his lap and stood up, gazing in his face. "I'm Asta," he announced, and then turned to Arafangwen. "Hi, Elf-Lady! What's your name? You're very pretty!"

Meanwhile, another two elves approached and spoke. LinGalad glanced at Arafangwen, who smiled. "Please do join us, and welcome," LinGalad said, as Asta rattled off several more questions. LinGalad tried to think of something else to say that would be a little more elegant, but there was another hobbit-child clambering up onto his shoulders at the moment and he could think of little else. He glanced at Arafangwen beseechingly, hoping that she would cover for him and say something polite.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[HerenIstarion]

'Dear Ladies', started H-I addressing Sophia and Annun 'I must confess I have a very good hearing. Not that your remark about the air was not pleasant, I flatter myself counting it as a compliment, though, in given circumstances, quite an ambivalent one. Nevertheless, let me congratulate myself and this good sir beside me with such a wonderful neighbourhood'

Hangover was passing, since Squatter was kind enough to bring beer along, and H-I was alive enough to be again in a mood to talk

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: HerenIstarion ]

[Schmendrick]

Isilmë sat on the fifth row, sulking. Certainly she was very excited about the Downies, but why did the ceremony have to start exactly when she had finally (after three day's waiting!) made it on the dance-floor?


And as if this wasn't enough, she had also lost Talômi. He had insisted on finding her sister, Rie, and Isilmë had promised to reserve seats for both of them. But so far, they were nowhere to be seen. Isilmë noticed Annunfuiniel and Sophie on the second row and waved at them as cheerfully as she could.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: Schmendrick ]

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman talked quietly with a few of the people around her, including Lyra, who was alternatively congratulating her energetically and nodding her head in time to 'We All Live In A Yellow Submarine', and the hobbit Poppy, who smiled vaguely before dozing off the sleep finally.

She glanced down at the stage, then did a double take, peering at the edge of the stage. Seeing the nose of...was that a warg?...she started to reach for her dagger, before she saw a hand nearby. She grinned; ah, Pio then.

She looked at the time, and at the frantic face of Mithadan as he made his way off the stage. Standing, she began to make her way down and backstage.

[kittiewhirl1677]

"Please do join us, and welcome," the elf said.

"Thankyou, sir. And what's your name?"

The elf was about to answer, when one of the hobbit children jumped onto his lap and hit him with his fist, by accident.

"Ow..." the elf said.

Eladoriel decided not to interfere, and she just passed by the elf, the other hobbit children, and Arafangwen.

"Menelien, you sit here. Kay?"

Menelien nodded and proceeded to sit next to Arafangwen. Eladoriel took the next seat beside her friend.

She hadn't arrived a moment too late, or too early for that matter. She had arrived precisely on time. The awards ceremony began, and Mithadan started giving out awards. When he mentioned the award to Amanaduial the Archer, Eladoriel immediately began chanting with the crowd.

She looked over to Menelien, who too seemed happy at this award.

"I'm so glad Aman got the award! She helped me in my RPG so much." Eladoriel said to Menelien.

[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

"Any idea when the next victims are coming off the tumbril, old boy?"

Squatter had been rather pleased to discover that his randomly chosen seat was next to a slightly battered Heren Istarion, and the two of them had been discussing some of the issues of the day, such as who had brought the beer. He had been vaguely aware of some sort of conversation with the people in the next row, but his concentration was divided between the stage, his companion and his drink. He accompanied his question with the flask.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: The Squatter of Amon Rûdh ]

[Annunfuiniel]

"And a compliment it surely was, after all it came from a lady", Sophia addressed to H-I. Annun had also turned around to meet his utterance and saw Isilmë waving at her a couple of rows above. She waved back and wished there still were empty seats at their row for her.

Annun saw Squatter and H-I gulping their beers and felt suddenly thirsty. "Are we expecting a new award soon?" "Or is it time for the first recess already?", Annun wondered out loud as the 'The Yellow Submarine' broke into the air. "I could use a drink", she tipped tactfully to her companions.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[Arafangwen]

"Certainly!" Arafangwen replied with a broad grin as her other friends joined them in their pain with the hobbit children.

"Mabey they'll keep Menelien awake." she thought to herself in amusement.

"I was wondering when you would show up, but I was quite expecting Trippo to be accompaning you." she said with a slightly dissapointed look, she had been looking forward to seeing the hippo try to squeeze into one of the auditorium seats.
Turning to LinGalad Arafangwen realized that while she had been speaking to her friends, the poor gentleman had been completly alone in is battle with the little ones. Reaching over with apologetic eyes she picked up the younger hobbits one by one and distributed them to her friends, the wildest one to Menelien thinking it fit her best, then she proceded to ask the teenaged hobbit to please take a seat and remain there as he grudgingly, yet obligingly did.

"That's better!" she said with satisfaction.

"I do belive your quite worn out already!" she said to LinGalad commenting on his frazzeled appearance. He quickly looked himself up and down in dismay.

Not wanting to bring down his spirits on such a joyfull night, she quickly assured him that he looked fine, which was mostly true.

"Do you mind?" she said as she reached over to fix his tusseled hair.

"Not at all, thank you!" he said in a grateful tone as she proceded to comb it out with an ever present pocket sized hairbrush.

"I regret to say that I must present an award later this evening so I will not be around the whole time," she said in lighthearted remorse for she was enjoying the non-drunken company.

"I will try to be around as much as possible though." she said quickly as to calm his nerves as he suddenly seemed worried with the thought of being left alone with the small horrors again.

"So are you presenting anything tonight?" she asked in her most ladylike tone.

*I likely won't be back on till tommorow, don't kill me, I still have to present an award*

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Sophia giggled with Annun at HerenIstarion's aggrieved remark. As Fin turned around to see what the commotion was about the perceptive H-I remarked, "At least one of you smells like a walking hangover yourselves..."

Sophia tried her best to look angelic as Fin recounted the first drinking contest aloud. Trying to change the subject she quickly turned to Annun to ask who she thought would make the "Worst Dressed List". After consideration Sophia decided to nominate Pio's wargs, suddering at the thought of their doggy bowties.

[HerenIstarion]

'Dunno, really. Is there any kind of paper with a list of nominees or anything? Haven't seen any. Or should I have said, "haven't eaten any"? I'm not quite sure about my diet in the last few days. But this beer is damn good, whoever brought it. Must be good for our health. I positively feel it's healing virtues'

H-I already felt inclined to grin - quite painstaking procedure just several minutes ago.

'I would be glad to see some Bob, if you remember one. Quite a brain he had, I must assure you, and knowledge too. Some kind of "Mostly Gnawing Sharpteeth Tolkien Bookwarm" type of award would suit him well. The most educated and thinking fellow I've ever seen.But he haven't appeared for ages, alas'

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: HerenIstarion ]

[Firondoiel]

Firondoiel hurried into the Awards Hall. I can't believe I'm so late! she thought. She spotted Arafangwen and hurried over to her. As she took a seat close by she saw that Menelien and Eladoriel were there as well. "Hi guys! I'm kind of late." she said with a sheepish grin.

"Yeah, we kind of noticed." Menelien replied.

"We were late as well so don't worry about it." Eladoriel said.

Firondoiel smiled and looked at Arafangwen, "How are the awards going?" she asked.

"I'm not quite sure. I haven't been here too long myself." Arafangwen replied.

Firondoiel then noticed the elf sitting next to Arafangwen with five hobbits climbing all over him. "Hi! My name is Firondoiel."

[mark12_30]

"Firondoiel, I am pleased to make your aquaintance. You are most welcome! Arafangwen, no, I am not presenting anything, Lady. Which is a good thing, since-- excepting my newly combed hair-- all presentability has quite left me," he said, ruefully, as the seven-year-old hobbit in his lap struggled for a better view of the newly arrived elves.

The teenage hobbit, relieved temporarily of responsibility, suddenly turned in his seat and sniffed. Stiffening, he looked around, and then stood in his seat and looked over the back. Behind him was the source of the aroma. Gamba watched, wide-eyed, as Squatter and HerenIstarion tossed back a steady stream of something Gamba remembered very well. It was not a pleasant memory. His stomach turned, and he grimaced, remembering the worst headache, the most violent stomach ailment, and the worst parental and authoritative wrath he had ever suffered in his entire life.

Shuddering, Gamba refocused on the stage. Good old Mithadan! Sinking deeper into his seat, he wished that the scent of the various alcoholic beverages would waft somewhere else. And then he hoped he wouldn't get sick.

Several seats over, Firondoiel, Menelian and Eladoriel were happily chatting with Arafangwen and LinGalad, and his four boys seemed to be in good hands. LinGalad turned again to Firondoiel. "What forest did you say you were from?" he asked politely, ducking as the child in his lap squirmed again.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Ithaeliel]

Ithaeliel bounced up and down anxiously in the black leather-upholstered backseat of her hired stretch limo, her large hazel eyes following the streetlights as they went by and her mouth pursed into an impatient frown. Looking at her watch, she let out a groan and rolled down the barrier between the backseat and the driver's seat. "Can't you go any faster?" she pleaded with her chauffer as she leaned forward, her pale skin catching the glow of a passing streetlamp. The driver glanced back at Ithaeliel as he sighed and adjusted his cap. "Miss, I'm already going five miles over the speed limit and I've run two red lights. I'm trying to get you there as fast as I can. See? Here we are!"

Ith jumped up, hit her head on the roof of the car, and immediately sat back down. "Great," she grumbled, "My first anniversary at the Downs and first time at the Downies, and I'm going in with a welt on my head!" As the limo came to a stop, the driver turned around in his seat. "Miss," he began as Ithaeliel viewed the crowd outside.

Ith diverted her attention. "Hm?"

"Have a good evening, and don't be nervous."

Ithaeliel sighed again as he came around to open the door. "Don't be nervous, don't be nervous..." she told herself as she made her way onto the red carpet, holding her head high and trying not to trip over the back of her strappy red dress. She entered the room to be faced with chants of "Archer, Archer," filling her ears. "Oh, fantastic!" she said as she found her seat- reserved next to those of Mattius, Brinniel, and Auriel- and started to applaud. "Amanaduial really deserves a Downie. She's great."

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: Ithaeliel ]

[Arafangwen]

"Oh!" Arafangwen exlaimed

"Where are my manners today! Firondoiel, this is LinGalad, he was so polite as to let me sit here with him. LinGalad, this is Firondoiel, a very good friend of mine." she said as she smiled warmly at Firondoiel.

"Where did you go last night?" she asked although she was likely the better recipient of that question.

*Be Back Tommorow, Don't Kill Me!*

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Menelien tried to speak to a few people at once, failed miserably, and tried again. "Eladoriel, you are not my mother. 2 weeks and 5 days is not a sufficient age difference for you to boss me around." Menelien started, then couldn’t help herself, and cracked up laughing, Eladoriel joining her. "Hi Firondoiel, I thought you had gotten lost... somewhere." To the Elf she didn’t know- "Hi. I’m Menelien. You may have seen me earlier, I was *ahem* swinging on some chandeliers...'And to Arafangwen- "Yes, I think Trippo is coming soon. I couldn’t make sure, as I am drunk enough to have just let El drag me here. Damn hangovers!" At this point Menelien felt that her ability for speech had expired, and nobody was listening anyway, so she just sat and hoped fervently that those who she was supposed to present awards to would be there shortly, and that she would be able to think up an impromptu award speech. Ah, the troubles of life she thought, listening to somebody snoring loudly behind her.

[Bêthberry]

Bêthberry caught yet another frown from Mithadan who was once again pointing to his watch. She looked out at the crowd of Downers in the auditorium and decided it was time to push ahead with the announcements.

She caught the bandmaster's eye, and he signalled a drum roll as she walked over to the microphone.

Ladies and Gentledead, we have a rare honour to acknowledge here tonight. RPGing is an art of interaction, of taking direction, of cooperation--

Here Bêthberry noticed Mithadan making frantic slashing actions to his neck, and so she nearly decided to take longer making her presentation. But when she saw the wargs move closer to the stage, she decided to take mercy on the patience of the audience.

Yet it is not often that we have gamers falling over each other attempting to set up ensemble ownership. Everyone wants a piece of the ideas, but no one wants to do the real writing of proposals.

For this reason, I must call upon a cast of thousands, er, well, really just four, Auriel Haevasawen, Brinniel, Ithaeliel, and Mattius, whose model of deportment is a, um, model for all of us.

Ladies and Gentledead, I am pleased to award the Downie for Fastest Delegation of Writing Responsibility for a Proposal in an Ensemble Cast to the four owners of The Blue Mountains and Threat of the Trees.

Maestro, please, will you play Carly Simon's "Procrastination"? Or, on reflection, make that "Anticipation?

The background singers immediately sequed into a rendition of

Anticipation, Anticipation
Is making me late
Is keeping me waiting


A huge round of cheers and applause filled the hall as people caught sight of four Downies being presented at once.

[Nurumaiel]

Nurumaiel burst in rather wildly and looked about. Hoping nobody noticed how late she was, she took a seat. "What's going on?" she whispered to an Elf next to her. The Elf replied that Aman had just recieved an award. Nuru grinned and attracted Aman's attention, giving her a thumbs up and a little nod to say, "You deserve it."

She would relax for awhile and think some more about her presenting speech. It was already beginning to form in her mind. . . it was almost perfect. . .

[One Axe to Rule them All]

Nobody noticed the small figure of a dwarf sneaking up and sliding back into his seat next to The Phantom. He leanded over and as quietly as he could without being inaudible he asked Phantom "you think either of us will get an award? and where's trippo at?"

while eyeing the balrogs with an uneasy stare
he looked over and realized his plan had worked, arafangwens hair was smooth and silky, she'd used the shampoo he slipped into her bottle this morning during her shower, as soon as it came into contact with water again, it would turn bright blue! ohh, "revenge is a dish best served cold" he thought, quoting his favorite show. (Star Trek for all of you out there who didn't get it) smilies/evil.gif

[mark12_30]

"Swinging on a chandelier. Ah, yes, I do remember that spectacl-- er-- seeing you earlier. Yes. Well-met, Menelien." Menelien smiled, and then turned to Arafangwen and mentioned something about a hippo.

LinGalad listened as the names rolled musically off Bethberry's tongue: "Auriel Haevasawen, Brinniel, Ithaeliel, and Mattius." He leaned sideways, his elven eyesight of little use to him when blocked by a hobbit-child's body.

"Do you mind?" Gamba objected as LinGalad blocked his view.

"Sorry, " LinGalad muttered. "But I think-- Yes! I saw these folk at a distance crossing the plains toward Isengard!"

"Where?" Gamba replied irritably.

"Isengard! Isengard!" LinGalad shouted in frustration, earning strange looks from those nearby. He blushed. "Er, I mean, Hurray! Bravo! Well done, Auriel Haevasawen, Brinniel, Ithaeliel, and Mattius!"

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Lush]

"Valiko! Smotri Valikoko, Zarbazan prishel!"* Announced Lush and plopped next to Heren and Squatter, took a beer without asking, made Heren open it, took a swig, and started complaining that "this is no Trappiste."

Then she remembered herself (or tried to remember, the past day or so having been a smoke-stained blur punctured by bad punnery), smiled an innocent brilliant, gazillion-watt smile that could power the entire London metropolitan area and the suburbs, complimented Squatter on his cuff-links for the 20th time that week, assured Heren that Georgian soccer pales only in comparison to Ukrainian soccer (but who's counting the goals?), and clapped vigorously for everyone that she has missed, especially for burra, because he drew her a cake once, and while she couldn't eat it, she could dream of eating it, and for writers that's all that counts (so it's really no wonder that most writers end up starving in the gutter for at least one point in their aimless, debauched lives).


*-Inside joke. Disregard if you've no mastery of the Russian language (or, to put it in plainer terms, if you're just not cool enough).

[Firondoiel]

"Where did I go last night?" Firondoiel repeated. "I believe I went to speak to Earwen before the awards started. What about you?" she asked Arafangwe.

Just then LinGalad asked "What forset did you say you were from?"

"Actually I didn't say. But I'm from Mirkwood." Firondoiel replied with a radiant smile.

"I see." said LinGalad.

Just then Bethberry anounced a new award. Firondoiel clapped and cheered along with the crowd.

"Where are you from?" she asked LinGalad.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: Firondoiel ]

[HerenIstarion]

'Lush!' exclaimed H-I, 'You do look fascinating. It's definitely a luck and pleasure to see you. Tell me, are you still planning to merry Squatter here? If yes, I'm going to challenge him'

HerenIstarion turned to Squatter again

'What kind of weapon do you prefer for a duel, good Sir' asked he and bowed solemnly

'I must have lost my gloves somewhere' he went on. ' Can socks be used for a purpose?'

'If you want to prevent the bloodshed,' that was addressed to Lush again, 'You have to drop the flower you have in your hair between us. Alas to rob it of your beauty, yet that is the only way'

H-I grinned once more

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: HerenIstarion ]

[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

Squatter paused in the midst of his applause to greet Lush with a lazily inclined beer can. Indeed it was not Trappiste, instead being Roper's Old Bizarre, but it went down well nonetheless. Two beer cans clicked together as all eyes focused once more on the stage with varying degrees of success.

'Bravo! Bravo! Well done!' he called with gusto, making a mental note to read the roleplays more often. 'I like awards ceremonies,' he continued. 'There's always plenty to drink.'

Suddenly he realised that Heren was asking him the most bizarre question of the evening. 'I favour swords,' he replied. 'But I believe that my answer was never given, so perhaps we could defer our duel until after the ceremony. I shouldn't want either of us to miss it due to an attack of mortality. Have another beer.'

Passing his would-be opponent a can of bitter, and now sadly beginning to think like a character in one of Sheridan's odder plays, a bemused Squatter returned his attention to the vitally important matter of the next presentation, which, he decided, could not be made sooner.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: The Squatter of Amon Rûdh ]

[Eressië Ailin]

Eress looked about the crowd. 'There aren't too many people here,' she thought. 'I must be early,' Eress said aloud as she saw (an innocent-looking) Lush enter the room. She wandered here and there, looking for a place to sit. 'Is this seat taken?' she asked, pointing at the empty chair nearest her.

[Cuthalion]

Maika grumbled at Cuthalion, "First Archer, then Pio..." He arched an eyebrow at her curiously, not exactly sure what she was talking about. Ever since Pio had sent her that PM things has been a bit...edgy. He handed her a tray of chocolate chip muffins and she smiled radiantly. "Thank you,love." she said in a voice that boded well for later.

[Oddwen]

I clapped furiously for the award winners and screamed as loud as I could, which was heard by exactly one person.
"What?" he said.
"Oh, nothing," I sighed.

[Galadrie1]

Galad quietly slipped into the auditorium and took a seat that was slightly away from everyone else. She smoothed her red dress and reached up to make sure her hair was still absolutely flawless. She sat quietly and waited for the next award to be presented.

[mark12_30]

Momentarily distracted by the arrival of a woman dressed in gleaming white and smiling radiantly, LinGalad watched as the apparition of innocence seated herself neear Squatter and HerenIstarion. Ere long, a particularly blank look crossed Squatter's face, and LinGalad wondered what mysterious power the the woman in gleaming white posessed, to have such an effect on the erstwhile unflappable Squatter, whose face remained studiously passive thereafter. LinGalad returned his attention to his new friends.

"Firondoiel, I am also from Mirkwood. However, I don't get out much," he admitted with the beginnings of a blush, "And I am also, er, not very old. So I am sorry to say that I have never heard of you 'til today. I, ah--" he dodged as the fourth hobbit-boy popped up in front of him, snatched a braid in one fist and said to Firondoiel, "Hi. I'm Roka. I know where Mirkwood is." "Hush! " Gamba snapped at him. "Don't tell anybody that. And let go of his hair!"

LinGalad frowned at Gamba, untangled Roka from his braids, and resumed his conversation. "I am a ropeweaver, and a ladder-knotter by trade. Firondoiel, what is your family trade in Mirkwood?"

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Sillabub]

Sillabub was furious! She hadn't played HALF of the songs she had intended to, plus FRAUL (YES, you STILL haven't arrived!)hadn't arrived yet. Moping, she entered the auditorium.

[Ithaeliel]

"Auriel Haevasawen, Brinniel, Ithaeliel, and Mattius, whose model of deportment is a, um, model for all of us. Ladies and Gentledead, I am pleased to award the Downie for Fastest Delegation of Writing Responsibility for a Proposal in an Ensemble Cast to the four owners of The Blue Mountains and Threat of the Trees."

Ithaeliel's eyes became wider with every word as she heard the sound of a Downie being presented- to her and her friends and co-owners! As the music cued up and a roar of applause filled the room, the only thing Ith managed to squeak out was the word "us?" Yet at the same time, she thought to herself, should we deliberately go up sluggishly to live up to our song? But the thought passed from her mind as Brinniel helped her up by the arm, and Ith shook hands and recieved hugs alike as she scrambled to get out of the row.

As Mattius, Auriel and Brinniel filed out onto the carpet, Ithaeliel trailed behind, hoisting the folds of her dress up above her feet so she could attempt to walk. The four recipients were suddenly up on the stage, and Ith was thrust in front of the podium. The audience quieted in "anticipation." Ith took a deep breath like she was always told to do, and then she looked out at the expectant bunch of formally dressed Downers and laughed nervously, her stomach tying itself in knots. "Um... wow," she began. "This is an honor for all of us. I totally was not expecting any sort of award tonight; I don't know about you guys," she said, looking over her shoulder at her fellows, "but I am surprised. I have a lot of people to thank for this. First of all, this could not have happened without the three awesome people behind me. They've all taught me something about ownership, roleplaying and teamwork. Radagast, Mattius and Calentoliel; give it up for them!" Cheers went up in the room and Ith smiled with satisfaction and glee during the pause. "And," she continued, "Bethberry, who presented this to us. She is the moderator of the Rohan forum, where both our games have been hosted, and she's helped us immensely with ownership duties, tips, been tolerant of our strange ways of co-owning and ensembleship, and through it all has been a friendly and patient person. You rule." Another round of applause filled the house. "I also must thank Iaurlachien, who brought us all together. The Blue Mountains really was her RPG, and we only joined it, and I have to say that she is missed and I hope to see her again soon so that we can tell her about how much we learned from her RPG and how much of a success it's been! And last, but definitely not least, the other players from the Blue Mountains and The Threat of the Trees. Those from the Blue Mountains were Faye Took, Iaurlachien, and Olo Gamwich; and I'm afraid to name all the people in Threat of the Trees because there are so many that I'm afraid I'll forget someone. I love you all! Thank you!"

The audience roared loudly as the next recipient of the group stepped up to the podium.

[Firondoiel]

Firondoiel appluaded Ithaeliel then turned to LinGalad. "My father is one of King Thranduil's guards. To be honest I had never heard of you either until today. And the loss is indeed mine." Firondoiel replied.

She then directed her attention to Roka. "Hello Roka. That's wonderful you know where Mirkwood is. How old are you?" Firondoiel asked with a large grin for she loved children.

[Diamond18]

Backstage, Diamond was pacing back and forth in agitation. Time was growing short, and she wasn't growing any taller, and so she could not wait any longer. It must be done. She now perceived that the time had come to present her award. “No, no, no,” she said to the Time, “you’re not presenting an award to me…oh, never mind…”

She double, triple, and quadruple checked the envelope to make sure that the card was tucked therein. Satisfied of this, she made her way towards the stage, but was stopped by the light touch of an Elven hand upon her arm.

“Is it time to make the presentation?” Vogonwë Brownbark stood there with pointed toes, adjusting his hairbow.

“Er…yes, I’m going to present an award, but—”

“Oh, but don’t you remember? You promised that I could recite a poem in honor of the recipient!”

Diamond vaguely remembered making such a promise, sometime during the party when she had not been altogether sober. With a sigh, she nodded. As she did so, the lovely Pimpiowyn of the red-gold curls appeared at Vogonwë’s elbow, holding a penny whistle.

“What’s this?”

“My musical accompaniment, of course,” Vogonwë replied.

“You’re going to sing?”

Vogonwë nodded gracefully, and Diamond stifled a groan. Well, at least it can’t be as bad as Dwarves in bikinis, she resolved, and led the way onto the stage.

Diamond stepped up to the microphone and tapped it. “Testing…testing…is this thing on?” A horrible, screechy static noise ensued. “Good. Ahem. It is now my utmost pleasure to present The Radagast Special Achievement Award for Best Performance as an Endangered Species. This estimable award, coveted by all, yet not received by many, goes to…”

There was a dramatic pause as Diamond savored the moment, opening the envelope and, ever so slowly, pulling out the card, turning it over, and reading it carefully before proclaiming, “The Ghastliest Neekerbreeker to ever breek a neek…Birdland!”

*Wild, frenzied applause.*

Diamond continued, “Since Birdie could not be reached in time, accepting the award for her will be a flock of Neekerbreekers.” A cloud of buzzing insects swooped down upon the stage, and with a thousand little buggy limbs, they hefted the hefty golden tombstone from Diamond’s hands and flew away, giving the audience the distinct impression that the award was floating across the room.

“In Birdland’s honor, Vogonwë Brownbark and Pimpiowyn Took will now perform a…er…something,” Diamond said, and stepped away from the microphone, clapping politely and trying not to wince.

Pimpi began to pipe upon the penny whistle, playing Concerning Hobbits by Howard Shore. The crowd smiled at the pleasant sound, until Vogonwë began to sing. His voice was not all that bad, in fact, he had quite nice vocal chords and a clear tenor. But his lyrics did not keep perfect time with the melody (to put it very, very nicely), and so he was constantly drawing out or shortening words in an unnatural waver that reminded the audience of a shipwreck.

Birdland is her name,
Endangered Species are her game,
Midgewater is her domain!
My she forevermore there reign,
In sovereignty!

Birdland! Give her a hand!
Ain’t she grand?
Birdland! Give her a hand!
She’s never bland!

Radagast would be proud,
And wowed,
To see this crowd,
Praise her so loud!
For suuuuuuuuuure!

Suddenly, the microphone gave off the most painful, mind-numbing, teeth-vibrating wail of high-pitched feedback the world had ever heard. Diamond rushed up and pushed Vogonwë aside. “THANK YOU!” she screamed, several notes of hysteria in her voice. She fought for composure, uttering some forced laughter. The audience was deathly quiet, looking as if they’d been clobbered over the head with an assortment of amphibians.

[kittiewhirl1677]

Menelien sat silently beside Eladoriel.

"Menel? You kay? Oh no, not again, please tell me you are NOT asleep."

"Course not! How do you expect me to be asleep with this - erm - child... - er - I think?"
Menelien replied innocently.
Arafangwen whispered to Eladoriel and Menelien, "Yes, it's a child. These children are easily mistaken for as monsters though." She said with a giggle.

"Hey!" The crazy child said, partly-overhearing.

"Oh, nothing sweetie, we were just discussing... um... how sweet you and your brothers are!"

The child nodded approvingly and settled back down. Eladoriel then continued to pay attention to Bethberry, who was now speaking.

"I wonder if any of us will get an award..." Said Eladoriel.

"Well, after the chandelier thingy I don't think I'll..." Menelien trailed off as Bethberry started to announce the winners of the award.

[Arafangwen]

Arafangwen listened with interest LinGalad and Firondoiels conversation.

"I'm from Mirkwood also." she added with a grin.

"I was not born there, but I was raised there by my adoptive mother Isilindil. We share a few, errm, qualitys, might I say." she added with an inward groan thinking that she had proably said to much already.

*I'm actualy leaving for the night now, don't kill me*

[The Saucepan Man]

Following Mithadan's announcement that the Downies award ceremony was about to begin, the Saucepan Man had made his way to the auditorium and settled down in a seat near the back. There he sat enthusiastically (and, of course, noisily) applauding the recipients of the Downies and, between awards, busily polishing his pots and pans.

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Sophia plugged her ears as the pennywhistle, the poetry, and the microphone conspired to fill the air with screeching. She applauded lightly for Birdland's notable achievement.

Throughout all the other competing sounds Sophia thought she caught the distinct sound of pans clattering together, spinning in her seat she realized that it was the Saucepan Man making his entrance. She called out to him over the heads of the crowds, "CHECK YOUR PMs!" he nodded in assent and she turned back to the award show.

[Durelin]

"Well," Rytien said to Lyra, "I wish we had had the chance to do the food fight, but, this is what I've been waiting for...I like award shows that do not contain people from 'Hollywood' of 'pop culture'." She paused, frowning for a moment. "And I have never found one of those, so..."

Lyra congradulated Aman on her award, and Rytien followed, "Yay Aman, the English teacher!" smilies/wink.gif "You truly deserve it. I mean, you have to walk away with something going with Dutch elfy boy..." Rytien smirked, she was pretty sure she was not the only one who wished to pluck his eyes out. Out vile jelly! she thought, and grinned. "I wonder what's next," she said, coming back to the awards show.

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Menelien yawned so hard her jaws cracked. Eladoriel looked at her disapprovingly and shook her finger. It looked so tempting that Menelien couldn't help but bite it. (Dejavu, Maya...) As Eladoriel yelped in pain and all those around her turned to look, Menelien snuggled into her seat and closed her eyes, hoping that her friends would wake her up if anything was presented as she slept...

[Bêthberry]

pio pushed Bêthberry back out on stage. Go help her, for pity's sake. It will take more than a bad mike to get rid of Vogonwë.

Bêthberry reluctantly walked back out on stage, her ears ringing more from the fractured verse than from the screeching mike. Clapping her hands with much glee and delight (she was sure said hands would be quite raw and bloodied by the time the evening was concluded) she smiled her immense satisfaction at Birdland's achievements as a naturalist and then whispered delicately to another of her favourite companions from Revenge of the Entish bow.

Diamond, my dear, shall I inform Vogonwë that I have just received a very Private Message from O Lando? There is some possibility he will be appearing this evening.

Diamond's slightly hysterically feverishly shocked face took on a look of relief tinged with delight. She turned to Vogonwë, mouthed the words, 'O Lando's coming', and watched as the peripathetic poet promptly passed into paroxisms of sputtering, hapless platitudes and plaudits of imperilous envy.

Bêthberry handed Diamond a handkerchief and both women, as delicately as they could in these post-SARS days, wiped the sprayed spittle from their faces as they led the distraught dispatcher of disproportioned dithyrambs off the stage.

[Diamond18]

Vogonwë gradually regained some semblance of composure, and Diamond gladly left him to the tender loving care of Pimpiowyn. She didn't much care if Pimpi soothed his fears or tore his heart out and fed it to the Wargs, so long as she could have a little quiet time.

Diamond expressed her thanks to Bêthberry for the timely rescue, and decided to find a seat to relax in and watch the rest of the awards. Trying to quell the nervous twitch which had developed in her right eye, she collapsed into a chair next to the pungent Squatter, Heren Istarion, and Lush (who was pristinely pure and pungent).

“I thought it would never end,” she sighed. “Do you have a spare can of beer for a beleaguered presenter?”

Meanwhile, Pimpi dragged Vogonwë off to a pair of empty seats in the far back, where she would not have to be so embarrassed by his public display of jealous consternation. Her heart fluttered a little at the thought of seeing O Lando again, but she sat down with a contrived bland look (and tried not to glance at the entrance of the auditorium too much.)

Vogonwë calmed a bit, and it occurred to him that the seclusion of their location offered a prime opportunity to passionately neck. But five seconds and a slap in the face later, he contented himself with resting his arm across the back of Pimpi’s chair.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: Diamond18 ]

[Gorwingel]

Gorwingel sat in her seat, waiting to see who would win the covited award. She was very excited because this was one of the most wonderful events she had ever attended in her life.
The theater was beautiful with long velvet curtains on each side of the stage that were decorated with tiny glittering drops of mithril (the velvet was the color of light mint). The velvet was so shiny that it must have been woven by Galadriel herself. Along the of the curtain was a beautiful handcarved cornice that was colored sliver with more glittering stones. Above the stage was a chandelier that must have been made of the finest stones found in the mines of the dwarfs, and in the back of the stage was a wonderful mural covered with pictures of trees. It was a specacular natural setting.

[the real findorfin]

It had to be said that Fin was very tired. He had never know it before (he had been known to go for weeks without any sleep) but this party was different. He assumed it must have been something to do with the copious amounts of Mudwater he had consumed.

He was now sat, his head resting on Sophia's shoulder, the material of her dress comforting. He had grown used to having her around in the last couple of days.

"Don't fall asleep now!" she chided, as the singing thankfully finished.
"How can I with that," he replied.
"The singing..?"
"No, your beautiful face starring at me."
Sophia shook her head, grinning. He never stopped!

Fin sat up as he saw Chicken finally enter the hall. He was mute again (he must have sobered up) and sauntered down the isle until he reached their row. He squeezed past Alatariel and prompty hopped up and sat on Thoriel's lap before she could refuse.
She starred at him for a second in disbelief, but then she smiled and absently played with his feathers, listening to the speaker once again.

Fin returned his head to Sophia's shoulder and dozed as her voice (aimed at Annun) drifted by him. His arm rested on hers and he felt warm and cozy.

Where's the flirt gone? asked his inner voice, sarcastically.
Shutup! Fin replied and happily cuddled Sophia.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: the real findorfin ]

[mark12_30]

"Bird! Bird! Bird!" whooped Gamba, and the four little hobbits cheered and hooted, jumping up and down in their prospective laps, til the elves' eyes bugged and several more "oofs and ows" were heard.

"I know about Mirkwood because--" Roka began.

"Not another word!" Gamba ordered, and Roka clammed up. No further coaxing from Firondoiel could get any information out of theboy, or any of the others. But they pelted the elves with questions about their hair and clothes and jewellry, and how come Bethberry was so pretty, and why there were wolves backstage.

"And when I grow up, I'm going to be an elf, " Roka announced.

"Where is Bird, anyway?" Gamba muttered. "Probably in sombody's collar. I wish she'd turn into a dragon just one more time."

"Dragon?" Arafangwen said, startled.

"Flagon. She, ah, sometimes disguises herself as a bottle of wine," Gamba hastily said.

"That would be dangerous around here, " Firondoiel replied with a meaningful glance at Squatter, Lush, and HerenIstarion.

"You said Dragon, I heard you," Arafangwen insisted.

Gamba changed the subject. "Hey, look at that. A Chicken!"

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Sophia wrung her hands with nervousness as she slipped out of the aisle where all her friends were seated. She'd had a chance to freshen up her clothes since the party, and Fin had bought her the promised new flowers for her hair. She breathed deeply in and out. She looked fine, she knew what she was going to say, there was no need for stage fright.

As soon as the previous presenter left the stage Sophia crept on. She tapped at the microphone and a large spotlight fell on her. Nobody looked up, so she tapped a little louder. A hideous screech escaped the mic and everyone looked up at her. She opened her mouth to speak and then shut it again. Pulling together her last nerve she smiled.

"Hello everyone!" she said into the microphone, feeling utterly ridiculous. "I tried to get some important people to come and present, but unforunately they all cancelled at the last minute." (She paused thinking about the very rude phone call she'd recently gotten from one Alex Trebec, stating that $20 on short notice was simply not enough to make a trip to Gondor at this time of year worth his effort.)

Clearing her throat she continued, "This next award goes to two people who will understand what I mean when I say (although they will doubtless laugh at my lack of skill):

Flying voices, weaving words,
The quizzers never find them,
The stories told of Elvenesse
hidden now with such finesse
In scrambled letters hide them."

The audience stared at her with a blank look. Sophia's face turned red as she scaned the audience for any sign of comprehension.

"Well, with no further ado then," she said, "the winners of the ‘The No One Can See All Ends Award’ – for their captivating, tortuous, and downright aggravatingly obscure use of language and verse in the Quiz Room - Words in Words/Riddle Me This section are...."

The Jeopardy theme song began to play in the background and the audience members began to sing along.

As it reached the end Sophia raised her voice and announced,
"The Saucepan Man and Nuranar!"

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: Sophia the Thunder Mistress ]

[alaklondewen]

Alaklondewen slipped quietly in the door, and looked for the group. She caught sight of Annun in the second row and made her as quickly and quietly as she could.

She slipped into the seat next to Annun, and whispered, "Excellent seats." Annun nodded and they turned their attention to the stage just in time to see Sophia present the next award.

"Saucepan Man and Nuranar!"

The crowd went wild. Alaklondewen jumped to her feet. It was a real thrill to see the Quiz Room fanatics being recognized.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: alaklondewen ]

[Nuranar]

Slipping in unobtrusively some time before, Nuranar had contented herself with watching the show from a solitary seat in the balcony. Solitary, because her close friends - very close, you see - Tarondo and Luinien, seemed to have lost themselves early in the merriment of the pre-Awards party.

See if I use them again anytime soon! she reflected a trifle vindictively. It appeared that the Monday Mathematics Mayhem had conveniently concealed the calculated character of her hero and heroine's happenstances. (In other words, she's only got herself [and Calculus] to blame.) Her ruminations were not improved by the unpleasant discovery that both feet had gone to sleep. Of course, if people will persist in tucking their feet beneath them while in formal wear at an award show, there is nothing more to be said.

Nuranar was suddenly torn from her malicious meditations by the melodious - er, melody? - of the Mistress' voice.

"...The winners of the ‘The No One Can See All Ends Award’ – for their captivating, tortuous, and downright aggravatingly obscure use of language and verse in the Quiz Room - Words in Words/Riddle Me This section are...The Saucepan Man and Nuranar!"

In rapid succession, shock, incomprehension, incredulity, suspicion, and finally pleased realization followed each other across her expressive face. (Suspicion and Incredulity paired up on the way across, as so often happens.) Nuranar found herself staggering down the balcony stairway (which was inside the auditorium, thank you very much), stumbling slightly on her still-asleep feet.

The long trek through the enormous auditorium soon got the blood moving, though, as it would be expected to. And she thought she didn't look too bad as she ascended the steps to the stage. Her brown-gold hair glowed in the spotlights, and from experience she knew her sky blue gown was bringing out the blueness of her eyes.

Bowing gracefully to the ever-gracious Sophia (who, while no quiz [see J. Austen's definition], is no mean quizzer herself) and accepted a golden Tombstone. The Saucepan Man's tumultuous on-stage appearance threw off her train of thought, and she was mentally unprepared for the metallic ordeal of his enthusiastic embrace. Released, Nuranar found herself staggering once more, only to bring up sharply - face-to-face with a microphone.

Get over it, part of her brain said to her in detached amusement. You knew that was part of the deal - accept the award, make a speech! it sniggered. Fine, I'll show you! she argued back to herself, quickly stepping forward and smiling graciously to cover both hesitation and blank mind. Er...

"I must avow my astonishment at being chosen as the recipient of a Downie, but the honor therein is not a whit diminished." Nuranar grinned at the slight glazed look appearing in the eyes of some of the more inebriated attendees. Ever merciful, she [tried to] moderate her vocal expressions. "Although I am no newcomer to the Downs" - coughs significantly and points not-so-subtly at her "Registered" date - "I have rarely been a frequent visitor of the Quiz Room. Recently, I think I have been escaping there to avoid the harsh realities of Engineering Calculus the Second and Data Structures in Computing. Trust me, there's nothing like a computer science lecture to stimulate the brain into devising fiendishly contorted riddles!

"But although my time in the Quiz Room has been short thus far, Sophia herself has been a wonderful foil, often posting right before I realize the answer, dang you," grinning, "and The Saucepan Man has been a worthy opponent. A certain Word still lies between us, in fact," she hinted, turning to the oh-so-innocent-looking Pan Man with what a friend terms "the Spock look."

"And I wish to thank the Barrow-Wight himself and all of the moderators and administrators who work so hard to make the Downs such a pleasant, if deadly, place to be. Thank you all!"

The crowd erupting in cheers, Nuranar bowed and returned to Sophia's side. As He-Of-The-Shiny-Cooking-Implements strode majestically and near-deafeningly to the microphone, she restrained giggles at the chants of "NU-RU! SAU-CY! NU-RU! SAU-CY!" emanating in no uncertain terms from a certain quarter.

I'll need no introduction to that set of hobbits, she thought. They and my brothers would get along so well, it'd be a really scary sight. Nuranar smothered another chuckle as something more occurred to her. "Nu-ru", eh? I wonder what Nurumaiel thinks of that.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: Nuranar ]

[The Saucepan Man]

At the mention of his name, Saucepan jumped out of his seat, his pans rattling and jangling in sympathetic surprise, and the small milk pan that he had been polishing dropped with a clatter to the floor. Hastily fishing it out from the seat in front of him and fixing it back in place, he rose and made his way down to the front of the auditorium, clinking and clattering in time with the theme from Jeopardy as he went. As he had been sitting very near the back of the hall, Nuranar reached the stage before him.

As he made his way up the steps leading on to the stage, he nearly stepped on a stray neekerbreeker that had become parted from its fellows during the painful confusion of Vogonwë’s recitation. Managing successfully to avoid it, he nevertheless lost his footing and bumped and crashed back down the steps. Picking himself up, he looked round sheepishly. For a second, in his embarrassment, he toyed with the idea of making a break for it, and then spotted the familiar snout of a Warg peeking out from behind the backstage curtain. Steeling himself (stainlessly), he hopped back up the steps and on to the stage, waving at the audience as he did so. Fortunately, he managed to reach the microphone without further mishap.

Enveloping first Nuranar, and then Sophia, in a hug, much to their astonishment and slight discomfort, he took the hallowed Tombstone and held it aloft. Looking out into the audience, he saw that there were many faces that he recognised. He spotted Lush, her air of innocence refreshed with such skill that her pure white aura gleamed brilliantly in the darkened hall and reflected stunningly off the mirrorball which, Saucepan noted with satisfaction, had been fixed to the ceiling of the auditorium. Next to her were Squatter, slowly sinking into an Old and Bizarre stupor, and Heren-Istarion who Saucepan was glad to see had finally woken up. Diamond was there too, as were many other familiar faces, Annun, Menelien and LinGalad to name but a few. Saucepan stood there beaming at the assembled guests, his wizened face glowing with happiness, while Nuranar accepted her award.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Nuranar finished her acceptance speech, the Saucepan Man stepped forward to the microphone.

“Fellow Barrow-Downers” he began. “My dear Elves, Hobbits, Men … um … Hippos, Chickens and …” glancing nervously at the twitching curtains “… Wargs. Thank you one and all. I am delighted to accept this ‘No One Can See All Friends Award’, although I must say that I can see many friends here in the audience ...”

“It’s the ‘No One Can See All Ends Award’ “, Sophia hissed in his ear.

“… er, sorry, the ‘No One Can See All Ends Award’ …”

Saucepan studied the words engraved on the Tombstone and his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Hmm, ‘No One Can See All Ends’ “ Saucepan pondered. Then, his face lighting up once more, he exclaimed “Is it Eä?”

Catching an impatient glare from Sophia out of the corner of his eye, he continued “Thank you so much for this award, which I am delighted and honoured to accept. The Quiz Room is a curiously addictive chamber where I have recently spent many a happy hour poring over my new, but nevertheless well-thumbed, Tolkien Companion straining to construct suitably fiendish cryptic clues, only to find them answered within minutes of posting.”

With this, he flashed an affectionate mock scowl at Annunfuiniel.

“I would like to thank all those who have made the Quiz Room such a challenging, yet friendly, place to haunt. Those who I would like to mention in particular are Beren87, Pallando PC, gilraën, Gil-Galad, Alaklondewen, Annunfuiniel, Lindolirian, Eruanna, elven maiden Earwen, Lyra Greenleaf , lathspell, Estanesse and, of course, Nuranar and our friendly neighbourhood Thunder Mistress here. I am sure that there are others that I have forgotten, for which I apologise, but all you fellow Quizaholics know who you are. My attendance at this party and ceremony has necessitated my absence from the Quiz threads for a few days, but rest assured, I shall soon return. And finally, a big thank you to everyone on the Downs for making it such a wonderful place to be, and in particular, to the Barrow-Wight himself for making it all possible in the first place.”

With that, he raised his pan-laden arm in a salute to the eerie green smoke rising from the private box near the stage. As he made to leave, he turned back to the microphone and added “And, for those still stumped by my latest Words in Words concoction, look for a Beatles song where all troubles seem so far away.”

“HAPPY DEATHDAY TO THE BARROW-DOWNS!”

Saucepan gave a happy wave and strode jauntily from the stage, tripping once again down the stairs with a crash and a clatter, to the surprise of no one. Undaunted, he made his way back to his seat and slumped down contentedly. As the ceremony continued, he took out his linen cloth and polish and began furiously rubbing away at the magnificent Tombstone in his hands.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: The Saucepan Man ]

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: The Saucepan Man ]

[Lush]

Lush passed Diamond a beer (it wasn't Trappiste, but Lush planned to remedy her inability to afford the greatest beer ever by marrying an oil oligarch one of these days...if the need for good beer is not a pure one, I don't know what pure is), and cheered vigorously and enthusiastically for her friends, so vigorously and enthusiastically, in fact, that she forgot herself and launched into a ridiculous rendition of "In Da Club" for the Saucepan Man's benefit.

Diamond only wished that there was a trout nearby to thwap Lush with, alas only an empty pack of Davidoffs was on hand.

Diamond's efforts brought Lush out of her smoky trance, and she turned to Heren, and whispered (innocently): "He's not drunk enough yet anyway," while admiring Squatter with a gaze so pure that it would have made Queen Victoria look like Monica Lewinsky.

[mark12_30]

"NU-RU! SAU-CY! NU-RU! SAU-CY!"

LinGalad blushed at the uproar that the hobbit-boys were making as Saucepan Man perused the audience, but when he saw The Saucepan Man smile happily about it, he reminded himself about variations in customs between differing lands, and took a deep breath. "Sau-cy," he began, hesitantly but slowly gaining momentum. "Nu-ru! Sau-cy! Nu-ru! Sau-cy!"

Firondoiel elbowed him. "Louder, silly!"

"Oh, I'm doing the best I can!" LinGalad muttered, blushing yet again. On his other side, Gamba sank an elbow deep into his ribs. "OOF!"

"That's it. Louder, " Gamba laughed.

"SAU-CY! NU-RU!"

"Not bad."

"You know, these little hobbits seem to be good for you, " Firondoiel chuckled. LinGalad shot her an indignant look.

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Menelien opened one eye for a moment, looked at the Hobbit kids, and decided it wasn't worth it. She closed the eye again and settled down for the night. And maybe the whole day tomorrow, too..

[kittiewhirl1677]

Menelien yawned loudly, and Eladoriel shook her finger at her. With a snap, Menelien bit the shaking finger in front of her.
"OW! You dope, why'd you do that?"

"Dejavu... Remember?"

Eladoriel did remember. One time, Menelien had done something annoying, and Eladoriel shook her finger at her. At that unfortunate moment, Menelien thought it tempting to bite down on the finger.

"Yes, I remember. You DON'T have to remind me. But since you bit my finger, I get to hit you back!"
Eladoriel said, loosing her line of thought in a childish temptation. She hit Menelien on the ribs, so hard that the elf immediately sat up with a "OOOOWW! THAT HURT!"

Eladoriel replied,
"Tisk, tisk... I still have the bitemarks on my finger. And they hurt too."

Menelien was NOT going to stand for this. Without even intending to, this is what she did:

"Are you *punch* okay?" She said, all in a flurry of moves and words.

Eladoriel was going to fight back, when she heard the most awful screeching noise. It was the microphone. An elf was singing into the microphone. The singing seemed to be so bad, that even the mic couldn't stand it and had to protest.

They all shut their ears, and within a few moments when Eladoriel looked back on Menelien, she was asleep.

"She's hopeless." Eladoriel said aloud.
"Tell me about it!" Arafangwen added.

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

After the whole commotion was over, Sophia slipped gratefully back into her seat, thankful that she hadn't been noticed more. Fin it seemed was thankful for this too, for as soon as she sat down his arms were back around her and his face against her shoulder. She cast a slightly helpless look at Annun and Alak who rolled their eyes. "Hello Raindrop," he said to her. She wondered if he didn't need a constant flow of alcohol to keep him alive, as he'd been asleep the whole time he'd been sober.

When she mentioned it to Alaklondewen it was only moments before she'd turned around and asked Squatter and H-I if they had a beer to spare. The glittering Lush passed one forward and Sophia handed it to Fin, hoping against hope that it would liven him up a little tomorrow.

The cries of SAUCY! NURU! were still going off around her, and feeling a little reassured she joined in, much more at home in the screaming crowd than on the stage.

[Trippo The Hippo]

Trippo finally made his entrence. He was late because he tripped many times on the way. Trippo noticed his friends and walked over to them. He sat down next to Menelien, not really noticing whichever person it was that he sat upon.

Sorry to whoever I sat upon. I believe that your character has disappeared into a dark wormhole underneath the seat. Here is a flashlight. I am sure you can find your way back in minutes, and kick me out of your seat.

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Menelien stirred for a moment, rubbed her eyes, said a tired hello to Trippo, sympathized with whomever it was that he had sat on, and fell once again fast asleep.Really this time. Must get off of computer. smilies/frown.gif

[Diamond18]

Diamond raised her beer in a toast and joined in the chanting of Nurunar and Saucepan Man’s shortened monikers. The beer had worked to calm her nerves quite well, and she called out, “Hooray for the Quiz Room award! You deserve it, Saucy Man! One look at your puzzles is like ‘Mudwater to my brain, and I salute you! Nuru too-ru! Go you two! Hooah!”

She settled back into her chair, and thwaped herself with the ever-so-handy package of Davidoffs, attempting to reach that elusive middle ground betwixt embarrassed shyness and uninhibited gregarious displays of tipsy towardliness.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: Diamond18 ]

[Bêthberry]

Bêthberry once again found herself taking centre stage in front of the microphone. The intensely bright lights made it was difficult to see everyone in the audience--people could be heard but not seen--and Bêthberry momentarily considered making a comment about the best behaviours of children, but she decided against it. People were always taking her too seriously and she knew she could never get away with protesting it was just a ruse. Nonetheless she peered out at the audience as if she could see each Downer sitting decorously or not so decorously in the plush velvet chairs.

Are you having a good time? she asked.

Yes, the enthusiastic Downers chorused in return. Give us an award! Give us an award!

The River-Daughter's grand-daughter grinned. We forgot about an award for loudest audience or most enthusiastic clapping. You'll have to go without this year, she depanned.

A groan filled the auditorium before a lone voice called out, Aren't we doing the best impersonation of semi-decorous glitterati?

You do that all the time, retorted Bêthberry. Everyone knows that Downers make this site the coolest Tolkien site on the Net.

I thought that was the Barrow Wight's job, called out another intrepid Downer.

There's the award for acknowledging the obvious, laughed the hostess, who immediately began applauding.

Speaking of coolest sites, isn't it just a little difficult restraining yourselves from spending too much time here? she asked.

There's no such thing as too much time here, called out one voice. We live here all the time, 24/7, spoke up a third voice.

No, silly, we die here 24/7, called out a fourth.

Well, I am here now to award great effort at resisting such participation. Bêthberry held aloft a burnished Downie Award.

The Eowyn Award for Heroic Self-Denial in Avoiding the Barrow Downs RPG Forums until All Homework Is Completed.

The crowd roared! Who was capable of such self-discipline?

Bêthberry nodded at the maestro who led the orchestra in the award's theme music, All day and all of the night, by the Kinks. The dwarf chorus began to sing:

I'm not content to be with you in the daytime
BD-RPGs I want to be with you all of the time
The only time I feel alright is by your side
BD-RPGs I want to be with you all of the time
All day and all of the night
All day and all of the night
All day and all of the night

I believe that you and me last forever
Oh yea, all day and nighttime yours, leave me never
The only time I feel alright is by your side
BD-RPGs I want to be with you all of the time
All day and all of the night
All day and all of the night
Oh, come on...

I believe that you and me last forever
Oh yea, all day and nighttime yours, leave me never
The only time I feel alright is by your side
Bd-RPG I want to be with you all of the time
All day and all of the night
All day and all of the night time
All day and all of the night


As the chorus slowly faded away, the presenter's voice rang out: Aylwen Dreamsong, this is your award!

Eyes scanned the auditorium quickly looking for the diminuative Downer who played in almost every Rohan game and a few of the games in The Shire and Gondor as well.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: Bêthberry ]

[Ithaeliel]

Ithaeliel, now back in her seat, jumped up and began cheering shamelessly as Aylwen's name was called. "GO AYLWEN! YEAH! WOO-HOO!"

She continued to cheer until a very annoyed Brinniel pulled her down by the back of her dress. Ith was cut off in the middle of a very loud "AYLWEN ROCKS TH-"

"We're being dignified, remember?" Brinniel whispered through gritted teeth. Ith nodded enthusiastically and sat very straight, causing Brinniel to once again roll her eyes, moan, and sink her forehead into the palm of her hand. Ith laughed, embarrassed. "Sorry... you know how much I look up to Aylwen for that reason, though." That said, Ithaeliel smoothed her satin red gown, checked her hair to make sure it was still picturesque, and patiently awaited Aylwen's acceptance speech.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: Ithaeliel ]

[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Aylwen had skipped into the auditorium just minutes before, after a long day of Cinco de Mayo celebrations and Tae Kwon Do practices. She had frantically looked for a seat, and had found an empty one near the front row. Aylwen was hesitant to take it though, wondering why such a good spot hadn't been taken in the first place. Then the girl rolled her eyes at her foolishness and quickly took the seat just before Bêthberry took the stage.

The Eowyn Award for Heroic Self-Denial in Avoiding the Barrow Downs RPG Forums until All Homework Is Completed. Bêthberry called, and Aylwen scoffed and remembered the pile of Spanish and General Music homework she had left piled on her desk at home.

At this, a Dwarf choir began to sing All day and all of the Night. Aylwen was halfway off her seat by the end of the song, wondering who in Middle-Earth would put homework before an RPG!

Aylwen Dreamsong, this is your award!

Aylwen lifted a brow. Then she smiled and stood, practically skipping up to the stage to accept her award. She was smiling brightly, glad that she didn't have braces anymore as she heard her good friend Ithaeliel scream out support for the winner. hen she got up to the microphone, she accepted the award gratefully from Bêthberry, and commented on the choice of the choir. http://www.gamers-forums.com/smilies/otn/other/vikingsmiley.gif

Turning to the microphone, Aylwen considered what to say, for the award she had been given she certainly had not expected. "I'd like to thank the...erm...I'd like to thank Bêthberry, who runs the Rohan forum that I frequent...and...I'd like to apologize to my angry Spanish teacher for not remembering my Cinco de Mayo report. All the best to everyone tonight, may you enjoy RPGing but never become as addicted as I have, unless of course you want to be nominated for this award next year!" Aylwen realized she had begun to ramble on. "Anyways, thanks again to everyone for making this a great year for the Barrow-Downs, and almost a whole year for me!"

With one last triumphant raise of her Avoiding RPGs award, Aylwen turned away from the crowd and towards the choir. She gave them a thumbs-up, and whispered something about 'Frain being Proud' and began to walk off stage.

[Marileangorifurnimaluim]

Dr Marileangorifurnimaluim, lugging a large overstuffed backpack, used the wild applause as a cover to slip into the awards show a tad late. As she clapped for Aylwen, a scroll popped out of her bag, and rolled down the aisle. An amused Lush, looking innocent in a rather bug-eyed, forced sort of way (she must not have had enough to drink yet) obviously bit back a rude comment. The doctor scrambled to stop the damned thing, before it rolled into the orchestra pit.

Maril was irritable, fresh from an argument with the valet:
"No, we can't get your car - or ponytrap - unless you are leaving... No, you can't walk to the parking lot... I see you have twenty-five scrolls of notes to drop off, but you are not allowed --"

Unfortunately the normally placid doctor rather lost her temper at this point.

"-- look lady, we have the Hobbiton Garden Club threatening violence over some 'Hobbit Sex Ed' article and there are rules -- procedures -- we have to follow even if you're Mithadan, or the King of Gondor."

The doctor gave up the argument at that point, as she was the one who wrote that, er, article.


Scroll tucked in her armpit, she scanned the audience for her date.

An arm waved over the audience. From the front row. Maril moaned... Trenton.

She nudged her way, bag and all, down a long of discomfited guests of the well-heeled variety.

"Excuse me, coming through, so sorry... coming through..." I'm going to kill him. Maril ground her teeth.

She finally reached the seat and whispered: "What do you think you're doing? We're supposed to be in hiding. Inconspicuous."

"Hide in plain sight, I always say," Trenton drawled. The attention-seeking hobbit had enjoyed her discomfort all night, what with her ridiculous shieldmaiden 'disguise.' "It's not as though anyone's going to train a spotlight on you, is it?"

"By the way," he whispered, his chin motioning towards the back rows. "Who's the cutie with the long hair?"

"That's Lush. But she's being innocent tonight so --"

"No, no, no, not her... the other one." Trenton raised his beer in a toast. Slightly befuddled, the man hesitantly returned the gesture.

Maril turned in her seat. Oh. Of course. "That's Squatter. Trenton. You promised to be on your best behaviour."

"This is my best behaviour."

"Well, if Lush can act innocent, so can you," Maril hissed.

[ May 05, 2003: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ]

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

As Bêthberry presented the Eowyn award, Sophia and Alak were deep in conversation over the lovely new mark over her "e". Had it been there long? they wondered, and didn't it look smashing on her.....

When she presented the award Sophia leapt to her feet, knocking the unfortunate Fin awake once more. She didn't know Aylwen personally, but she could definately appreciate someone who managed that many RPGs. How anyone could do more than two or three she simply didn't know.

Alak had procured some tasteful little glasses of champagne from somewhere or other, and noticing the thirsty look on Sophia's face passed one over. She sipped it appreciatively, spared a sip for Fin, and then grinned wickedly.

She reached out a finger and poked the sleeping Chicken in the side. It turned a baleful eye on her as though to ask what she wanted. She gleefully pointed out Alak and made a stabbing motion toward his little poutlry bum. A terrified look crossed Chicken's face. Her grin widened. Priceless.

[Himaran]

Soon finding that the awards were in full swing, Himaran slipped quietly into a back row at the ceremony. Looking around for an aquaintice, his eyes met none but strangers.

Leaving his seat briefly, he ordered a drink and climbed up onto the balcony. He waited eagerly for the next award to be given, wondering if he would be included.

[Lush]

For the millionth time that week, Lush cocked an eyebrow.

Considering the frequency of her usage of the above action-verb, any casual observer, be it the sublime Dr. Maril or the supine Squatter, would have thought that something other than decorum and congratulating her fellow Downers was on her mind, but with a face as innocent as Lush's, the thought was unimaginable.

Lush clapped enthusiastically for the gorgeous and dedicated Aylwen, reminded herself to check out the RPGs more often (when she wasn't involved in acts of debau...debating), wondered if she should be threatened by the Trenton creature, decided she was above childnessness and presumptous-ness in polite company, stuck her tongue out at him anyway, ran her hands through her hair innocently, checked her watch anxiously, and sipped her beer demurely, all in the space of 30 seconds! Lush is fast!...Not "that" kind of fast. Surely not Lush. Not at all. Not even a tiny bit.

[Child of the 7th Age]

Pio had retrieved Cami from her comfortable seat in the audience and set her down at a table backstage, thrusting a paper and pen into her hand.

"We have a little problem. You'd better start writing. You're going to have to finish up the piece we wrote earlier today." Pio pointed towards a couch where Bethberry now lay sleeping, exhausted from her earlier efforts presenting awards to several worthy Downers. Pio glanced nervously towards the door. "I'm due for my shift back in the Inn, so you're the only one left. Just make it short and sweet."

Cami groaned audibly as she saw the Elf retreat through the door and disappear down the hallway. "Short and sweet" was not exactly what she was known for on the Downs. More like long and dour!

The hobbit took a moment to flip through Melificent's "Catalog of Magical Potions and Other Concoctions Guaranteed to Make Men Quake", hoping to find inspiration for her writing. These products looked formidable. She'd better dump this book of magic before returning to the Shire. Pio would never let such an item into the Green Dragon Inn or any of the other RPGs. She looked out the window and scowled, fiddled with her pen, and began scrawling something down on paper. She hoped it would suffice. One little piece of her mind was still dreaming of taking a vacation to someplace nice that was very far away.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Annunfuiniel]

Annun had fallen in deep thought for a couple of moments (pondering about Saucepan’s latest riddle, what else) when things started rolling in puzzling speed. "Sau-cy! Nu-ru!", cries filled the air and Annun was at once wholly and truly awake.

"What just happened?", she inquired Alak (who had at some point also emerged beside her) and after receiving an odd look and a short account of the happenings, Annun stood up and cheered frantically. She replied to the Pan Man's mock scowl with a wink and gave him thumbs-up. He's priceless, Annun thought. And so is she, she continued, now smiling at Sophia.

The award ceremony went on fluidly - as someone had finally got them some champagne -and the next Award (the Eowyn one) was once again a hit in the bulls-eye. Cheers and applauds filled the air and Annun had her fair share in displaying them. I need ice! she then moaned, eyeing her red-hot palms.

[Birdland]

The sun-kissed waves scampered across the sands of the Tol Erasurëa Time Share Casino and Resort, as Birdie started on her second Tom Bomb-adillo of the day. She blew a kiss at her favorite cabana Elf, and sighed as Glorfindel rubbed athelas oil between her shoulder blades.

“Oh, Glorie, you do have that Elven magic, don’t you?” Birdie moaned with pleasure, and plucking the candied Elanor from the drink, placed it between her lips and offered it to her favorite Firstborn masseur.

The moment was broken though, but the sound of oversized feet shuffling through the loose drifts of golden sand. A small, dejected looking figure wearing a pillbox hat and short-waisted, double breasted jacket appeared before the skin-changer.

“Well, what is it Frodo?” Birdie asked with ill-concealed impatience.

“Yeth“ huffed Glorfindel, “Can’t you see that Miz Birdie is very busy at the mometh?“

“Palan-Gram for Miss Birdie” Frodo intoned in a lifeless voice.

Birdie snatched the folded vellum from the Hobbit and quickly ripped it open. Quickly scanning the gist of the missive (and ignoring the none-too-subtle reminder from Mith that she needed to post the next installment in the “Shadow of the Star” thread) Birdie squealed with delight and held the Palan-Gram out to the assembled Fair Folk For Hire.

“Look, Nerdy! Glorie! I’ve been awarded a Downie! Oh, my Internet fan base has given me their very highest honor!”

Glorfindel and Nerdanel clapped their immortal hands together in glee, crying “Ai! Ai! A Downie! How wonderful, Mith Birdie.” Then Glorfindel, spying the erstwhile Ringbearer staring at his feet, aimed a quick kick at the listless perian. “Well? Do your ‘Happy Hobbith Dance’ for Mith Birdie. She has been awarded a ‘Downie’!”

Frodo did a random, shuffling step while swinging his arms, as he thought back in horror to the day the grey rain-curtain had rolled back, and he had first beheld the rotted, wooden dock, and the rough-hewn sign stating “The Work Will Heal“.

As the plucky Harfoot attempted a ’shuffle-ball-change‘ he cursed (not for the last time) the day he agreed to turn his Shire passport over to Gandalf “for safe keeping.”

“But we’ll get it back. Yesssss, we will. Then we’ll make them ALL sorry!“

Meanwhile, Birdie tapped the Palan-Gram against her lips, as she counted out the days it had taken it to arrive at Tol Erasurëa. “Why, the award ceremonies are tonight! I must leave for the Barrow Downs now, if I am not to disappoint my loyal RPG worshippers."

“But Mith Birdie. If you leave now, you will mith your archery lethons. And you know how much you love plucking your lithle bow and arrowths.“

“Oh, Glorie, you do know me so well…”

******************************

Dear Diamond stop

Impossible to arrive in time stop

Please give my most sincere regrets to my fellow Downers stop

Hugs and Kisses, Birdie end

[piosenniel]

(being a joint effort on the part of Cami, Pio, and Bethberry)

As the curtain rang down for intermission to a thunderous round of applause, Mithadan stepped back from the podium, turned off his microphone, and quickly exited the stage. With a cautious glance to the right and left, he locked the awards closet and pocketed the key so that no grasping hands could get inside and make off with any of the Tombies.

The audience still lingered in the auditorium. Some had sauntered over to a refreshment stall in the lobby to sample a newly baked batch of lembas, but most remained in their seats, trying to guess who the next honorees would be.

Backstage, it was perfectly dark and quiet. Suddenly, there was a delicate rustling behind the curtain as three light-footed figures--one tall and slender, another softly rounded and medium height, and the last short and decidedly plump--slipped out of the dressing room and cautiously made their way onto the darkened stage.

Cami glanced towards Bethberry and back again at the locked cupboard which held the awards that were still to be given out.

"You're sure you left it here?"

"Definitely," she nodded. "Before the ceremony began I hid it on the bottom shelf of the closet, in the very back.

"Cami knelt down and began fiddling with the lock. Hobbits always seem to inherit those chores that fall under the heading of burglary and stealth rather than ones that are deemed truly heroic. This time was no exception. Cami scavenged a bobby pin from the depths of her pocket, inserted it into the hole, and began fiddling back and forth until she heard the welcome click that told her she'd been successful. The hobbit eagerly reached in to snatch the tiny red apple on the bottom shelf, but drew back just as quickly when she heard an alarmed voice raised behind her.

"Don't touch that thing," Piosenniel warned. "Melificent's catalog says it's so filled with poison that the slightest residue on your fingers could mean 'bye bye' to all."

"So what are we going to do with it?" The small hobbit scratched her curly head."

That's easy," grinned the Elf. She handed Cami a pair of bulky, extra-long kitchen gloves. The hobbit put them on and gingerly picked up the apple, holding it out in front of her. "You don't think he'll expect something fishy?"

Pio encouragingly shook her head, "Not Mith. He's a straight arrow kind of guy who thinks the best of everyone. He'll never know what hit him."

"We'll use the gloves for the presentation. We'll just explain it's a personal award for our beloved Mithadan from his loving Senior Innkeepers-Bethberry, Piosenniel, and Child."

The three looked at each other and grinned. They were envisioning a life away from the Shire and Rohan and Gondor, filled with cruises to Hawaii and other restful pursuits, far from the noise and hubbub of the Inns.

It was only a matter of minutes until the dragon Angara walked up to a large gong in front of the curtain, and began beating it vigorously with a thick silver rod of Elvish design. Immediately, the stragglers returned to their seats and a hush fell over the audience as Mithadan bounded up the steps and resumed his place at the podium. He fumbled through a large stack of papers, vainly searching for the next order of business. Then he looked up, surprised to see three familiar figures walking steadily towards him with a look of blind trust and adoration on their faces.

Piosenniel reached out her hand and placed it on top of his, her gaze lingering adoringly on his handsome visage. She turned to the audience and beamed. "We're here tonight for a very special reason. This Man is finally going to get exactly what he deserves."

At this point, there were several loud and purposeful cheers emanating from the back of the crowd. Gamba got up and began dancing in the aisle with a broad, silly grin on his face.

The Elf put her hand up to signal that everyone should quiet down. "None of you in this room has any idea of what it's like to work for a Man like this. It's an experience that can never be duplicated.”

Just as Pio said this, Cami peered down at her toes and muttered under her breath, "Not that you'd ever want to." Bethberry jabbed the hobbit so hard in the ribs that she almost keeled over.

Bethberry smiled charmingly and now took up the lead, "Just as Pio was saying, working in the RPG forums under Mithdadan's leadership is an unforgettable experience. Every day there's a different challenge---keeping the Shield-maidens and half-Elves at bay and the ravening posters happy, having to clear your in-box of Mithadan's PM’s every five to ten minutes, and dealing with strange, non-canon characters in dark cloaks whose backgrounds are inevitably shady. Then there's my own personal favorite: receiving an assignment for which you are told you must respond within the next ten seconds or the entire Barrow Downs will self implode. I can not tell you what joy and satisfaction our jobs bring, particularly when our families are screaming at us to "get off the computer or else."

"Yes," agreed Pio, "And that is why we have come here, bringing a special award for the Administrator who heads all the RPG forums, the man who has made this evening possible. We have with us a golden apple, an award especially suitable for one whose tongue is very sweet, with many golden promises.

Cami, muttering once more to herself, managed to maneuver herself in front of Bethberry and Pio, with her arms clad in two giant-size kitchen gloves. Between her hands was the lovely golden fruit. There seemed to be a strange liquid dripping out the bottom which Cami hastily attempted to mop up with her furry toes. She smiled sweetly, and set the apple down on the podium directly in front of Mithadan . . .

[piosenniel]

Pulling a knife from her cumberbund, the Elf skewered the apple and waved it enticingly under the nose of Mithadan, Internet Man of Mystery. ‘Just one bite. What can it hurt?’

Pio pushed the play button on the karaoke machine. She and her two companions gathered in close round the microphone as Mithadan brought the apple to his lips, a smile of dubious anticipation gracing his lips.

She waved to the leader of the back-up singers. ‘Cue the Orc chorus, Gravlox.’ The mouldering Uruk raised his magical ZigZag sword and set the tempo.

I hear something sayin'.

(hooh! aah!) (hooh! aah!)
(hooh! aah!) (hooh! aah!)

(Well, don't you know)
That's the sound of the Mods, working down the chain ga-a-ang,
That's the sound of the Mods, working on the chain gang.
I hear something sayin'.

All day long they're sighing!

(hooh! aah!) (hooh! aah!)
(hooh! aah!) (hooh! aah!)


That's the sound of the Mods, working on the chain ga-a-ang,
That's the sound of the Mods, working down the chain gang.

All day long, we work so hard
'til the sun is going down,
They’re workin’ on the grammar and spellin’
and wearin', wearin' a frown,
You hear them moanin' their lives away
Then you hear somebody sa-ay

That's the sound of the Mods, working down the chain ga-a-ang,
That's the sound of the Mods, working on the chain gang.

You see them catchin’ those chatty posts,
One sentence repartees,
They’re workin’ on descriptive prose,
Bringin’ lazy Gamers to their knees
You hear them crying, Edit/Delete,
Then you hear someone repe-eat,

That's the sound of the Mods working on the chain ga-a-ang,
That's the sound of the Mods working down the chain gang.

Can’t ya hear them singin’

Mm, I'm going home one of these days,
I'm going home to see my family,
Whom I love so dear,
But meanwhile, I - I've got to work right he-ere.

(Well, don't you know)

That's the sound of the Mods, working on the chain gang,
That's the sound of the Mods, working down the chain gang.

All day long they're singin', mm
My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my, my work is so hard
Give me water, I'm thirsty
My work is so ha-ard

(. . . Fade . . .)

That's the sound of the Mods, working on the chain ga-a-ang,
That's the sound of the Mods, working down the chain gang . . .

Mithadan's Post

He smiled winningly at "his" Mods. "Why thank you! This is very unexpected and very sweet of you!" He took the skewered apple and waved to the crowd to stand.

"Let's hear it for Piosenniel, Child of the Seventh Age and Bethberry!" he cried. Then he brought the apple to his lips. *CRUNCH.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]

[Lush]

Oh drat it, this was definitely not Lush's turn to do or say anything of any importance, except for clapping vigorously as ever for Mr. Mithadan (the hot one), Piosenniel (the hard-core one), Child (the erudite one), and Beth (the full-of-surprises one), all of them equally wonderful and equally delectable.

Nevertheless, amid all the action, a voice slightly tinted with the steely chill of the Siberian plains rang out over the crowd:

"I love you all and would gladly miss my flight for you, alas, Europe awaits! I am going for the next three months, to get rid of the last remaining shreds of innocence to be found on my person!"

With this statement, Lush gave quick parting kisses to Heren and Squatter, shook Diamond's hand, winked at Dr. Maril, and turned her white, pristine jacket inside out, so that those next to her saw it was of the most delicious, Devilish Blue on the inside, for it was a bright morning, and Eau de Innocence (found at your local Sephora counter) was fading on Lush's skin.

"If anything should happen to me, the Barrow-Downs will inherit my beer arsenal, and my dirty jokes catalogue!" Lush cried as she made it for the exit, too harried to even make a proper dirty reference, hoping it would have come to her sooner, her spirits slightly dampened by her own under-performance, but hopeful still.

"Merci bien for everything, my darlings," Lush murmured and clicked her magic heels and was on her way home, flying, as any impoverished Blue Devil, economy class.

[Mithadan]

"Wait, Lush!" shouted Mithadan around a mouthful of apple. "We have a Downie for you! The Prim and Proper Award for Greatest Decorum in Posting..."

He blinked. Then his eyes crossed and...

[Coriel]

Coriel quitely came in the back entrance and slipped into the nearest vacant seat. She didn't say anything but she quietly clapped for the most recent award being given.

[Ainaserkewen]

"Can I sit here?" Asked an elf woman.
"Uh sorry." Said Veanca. "It's being saved."
"Oh, okay."
Veanca had been holding Ainaserkewen's seat for an awful long time now. He wondered when she would be getting back.
"Sorry I was so long." she said finally, sitting down.
"What time is the award?"
"At one. I think the reciepient will be pleased."
"Who is it?"
"I can't tell you!" she said playfully.
"Common." he persisted.
"Okay." And she wispered something in his ear.
"Oh yah, they'll enjoy it, I hope." he said.
"Call me crazy, but the show has a lot of holes in it, don't you think?" he said.
"Uh huh. Those dwarves earlier where just desturbing." she said.
He agreed.
"Hey," she said. "Come with me for a moment, okay?" she gave him a look.
"Okay." and they disapeared out the exit door.

[mark12_30]

Gamba jumped and laughed and cheered and danced in the aisle as Mith bit into the golden apple. He waited for a smile, a laugh, a joke. But nothing. Mith stood stock-still.

And then he keeled over.

It took only a half-second for the blame to be placed in Gamba's mind. It had to be that elf. That shady, sneaky, conniving, rope-tying, I-knew-it-all-along-it-was-that-rotten-ELF.

He was already in the aisle. It took him mere seconds to reach the stage, and launch himself at Piosenniel, shrilly howling "Vengeance! Vengeance! MURDER!"

LinGalad, open-mouthed, watched him go, and belatedly stood and ran after him. The audience erupted in bedlam.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[One Axe to Rule them All]

suddenly, trippo felt a sharp prick coming from his far end. he let out a sharp yelp upon the second strike of pain. he promptly stood up to find a quite disgruntled dwarf with a very sharp axe ready to inflict more pain on anything ready to sit on him again.

"Sit on me again, and i'll do more than poke!" gimli exclamed with a sharp look at trippo.

Curse my height, that hippo didn't even notice me! he thought, while downing another shot and waiting for phantom to remember he left.

[Mornie Alantie]

As Mornie Alantie entered, very late but still he entered, darkness seemed to fall from the room as witness by the meaning of the name. (Mornie Alantie means Darkness has Fallen) The elf seemed to glow with a pale green light reflect off his silver green clothes. having been so late and not having the proper time to see everything that was going on, he took a seat. there were a few people he desire to see at the party, Gimli son of Gloin, and Mallornleaf, But he knew they had chosen life over death, and had forgotten the days at the Barrowdowns. But he would not let that dampen his time, but being lost at to what was going on could.

Suddenly he heard a gargulling noise next to him and he looked over to see Gollum.

"they stole our precious! yesses cursed Baggins!"

"pray, what is your problem? or are they many?" Mornie Alantie guessed that this creature had some rather interesting things in its past.

"Not its business!" Said the creature and continued to make unpleasent noises. Mornie Alantie started getting fed up with the "thing" and left to find a closer seat with more enjoyable company.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman entered the backstage area to sift through and attempt to find where she had put the piece of paper with the award she was presenting on, before a loud scream rent the air. She looked on stage and saw Piosenniel, Bethberry and Cami standing there, smiling just a little too innocently.

Pio was nearest the curtain. Aman forgot about her speech- the Downie could wait for a wee while, right now she needed to sort out what was going on there.

"MURDER!"

Aman glanced up, before hissing at Pio. "Pio, what in the name of the gods is-" She stopped, looking onto the stage past the elf woman, and saw the crumpled figure on the podium, its eyes closed. "Oh Eru, Mithadan..." She murmered.

Then she saw it. Just rolling out of Mith's hand, was an apple. With one bite taken from it.

[piosenniel]

He blinked. Then his eyes crossed and...

‘Oh muddy bells!’ Pio grabbed the downed admin by the ankles and hauled him behind the curtain. She waved the Hobbit chorus line out front and set the Wargs on guard at each end of the stage.

That curly headed Hobbit – take him out if he comes near.

The three Wargs eyed her, their lips curled back in wolvish grins, thoughts of tasty Hobbit in their collective mind.

‘I knew we should have presented the apple off stage.’ Pio bent down and put two fingers to the pulse in Mithadan’s neck. It was weak and thready, but palpable. She bent her cheek above his face and felt his shallow breath. Her nose wrinkled, and she drew back.

Note to self: Should he survive - send the wight some toothpaste and mouthwash . . .

Aman, her Presenter’s notes dangling from her hand, stood gaping at the scene. Pio pointed toward the podium. ‘Get out there and dazzle them with your wit! We’ll take care of Mith. We’re used to this. He’s forever fainting away in all our adventures.’

Child nodded her head at Aman, and grabbed the limp admin’s ankle as Pio grabbed the other. Bethberry ran down the back hall clearing the way for them as they dragged him to one of the empty dressing rooms and flopped him on a couch. Throwing a mauve dressing gown edged with silvered ostrich feathers over the now snoring body, they left him to his twilight sleep and backed quickly out of the room, padlocking it securely.

Pio grinned widely. ‘No more PM’s or emails for a while, ladies!’ The other two looked somewhat guilt-struck at the memory of their fallen leader. ‘Come on! We’ve got the rest of the award show to get through, then we’re out of here. Aman, Aylwen, and Squatter can run the RPG forums for a while. We can PM them if need be.’

She pulled three passports and envelopes bearing the seal of the Palantiri Ship line – seven silver stars on a dark blue background. ‘I’ve booked us on a two month cruise . . .’

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: piosenniel ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami stared at the passport that Piosenniel was holding out to her. A two-month cruise on the Palantiri Ship line…. It had been a long, long time since she’d gone to Sea on the Star, and the thought of a two-month cruise, with lovely meals served up on large banquet tables and folk waiting on her hand and foot, seemed like a preferable alternative to slaving away in the Inns.

Still, Cami felt a definite twinge of guilt. After all, she was the one in the RPGs who routinely had terrible attacks of conscience and angst. She could feel such a spell coming on now.

Still, what serious harm could they possibly have done to Mithadan? The Wight was already dead. Melificent had assured her that the poison would only knock him out for several months so that he would be unable to write e-mails or shut down any threads. How could anyone blame them for wanting a little vacation? And who could charge them with murder when the Man was already dead for several thousand years?

Still, Cami felt uncomfortable. She squirmed and peered guiltily over to her friend, “Eer, Pio, I think I have a headache. I need to excuse myself for just a moment….” Then she slipped back down the corridor and over to the locked room where Mithadan was snoring away.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Annunfuiniel]

Annun's mouth dropped open in the middle of applause. She could see there was something *very* wrong in the scene played in front of her eyes - and by that she wasn't referring to Lush's unmasking and magical disappearance but to Mithadan's odd looks. His ghastly face was surely turning into the utmost shade of pale...

For a moment Annun thought someone had stolen Sophia's reserve of brown powder but soon she realized that this was something far more serious. Abruptly Mith's eyes crossed and he collapsed behind the podium!

A couple of flabbergasted seconds later the auditorium was in full mayhem. Someone rushed towards the stage yelling "Vengeance!" "MURDER!", and an overall panic spread through the room. Alak, Sophia and Annun eyed each other in a state of aghast disbelief, Fin got a waking to remember and the Chicken cackled in terror... What was to follow?

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: Annunfuiniel ]

[Cuthalion]

In all the confusion of Elves, Hobbits, hippos and Chicken so suddenly disrupted by the untimely collapse of the host, Cuthalion spilled his drink all over Maika's dress. She shrieked and leapt to her feet. Aghast, Cuthalion attempted to dry her cleavage off, but she swatted his hands away and left in a huff.

Knowing that he was probably toast, the Elf sat forlornly, hoping that she would come back soon, preferably without weaponry. A collective gasp came from the entrance to the Hall moments later and there she stood, dress in a skin-tight electric blue sequinned sheath. His jaw dropped and he rose to his feet. She smiled seductively at him and made her way slowly across the room toward. As he stood, stunned, she pulled him close and whispered, "You'll pay for that..later!"

He smiled knowingly, then inspiration hit him and he ran to the orchestra pit to converse with the Maestro.

[mark12_30]

Howls erupted and heads turned as Gamba clung to the back of a large wolf, one ear in each hand, hollering for LinGalad to help him. The other two wolves circled looking for a chance to snap at the teenage hobbit, but several elves drew near. They were not happy about having to face wolves barehanded, but foul play was afoot and they wanted to get to the root of it.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Mornie Alantie]

With all of the confusion going on up on the stage, an Elf sitting next to Mornie Alantie accidentally spilled his drink on the lady next to him. She shrieked and a little chaotic story follow. Finally desiring a little peace he started walking down the aisle until he saw a screeming hobbit upon a warg. He was shouting for another BD'er, but other wargs were circled trying to get at the hobbit. Mornie and a few other Elves drew near and got ready to face the wargs.

[Arafangwen]

Arafangwen looked over in sudden worry as Gamba the young hobbit had once again gotten himself in more trouble than he could handle. Springing over to where LinGalad and a few other elves were standing, Arafangwen, though unhappy about being unarmed for the most part, not wanting to reveal the knife in her circlet prepared herself to fight them with her bare hands.

"This young hobbit is becoming more of a trouble than he's worth." she silently thought to herself.

"I hope I don't become to disheveled." she thought suddenly, remembering that she still needed to present an award on stage.

[Amanaduial the archer]

"Get out there and dazzle them with your wit!We’ll take care of Mith. We’re used to this. He’s forever fainting away in all our adventures." Pio turned back to Mithadan, leaving Aman staring after her, Child and Beth as they dragged Mithadan away.

"'Get out there and dazzle them with your wit!' Says she..." Aman muttered under her breath, preparing to go out. "What, is that meant to be funny or something?" The woman muttered to herself for a few more moments, before pasting a smile onto her face, straightening her dress and stepping out onto the stage.

"Sorry about that, ladies and gentlemen." She said smoothly, attemting to keep the panic out of her voice, and a little unsure of how to go on.

"Where's Mithadan?" An irritated voice came from the audience. Aman glared at the speaker, before another came.

"Yeah, where is he?"
"Whats going on?"
"Why are the woman, the elf and the hobbit trying to kill him?"

Oh, you tell me... Aman thought darkly, before breathing deeply. "He is...a little busy at the moment. I'm sure he will come around any minute now. Anyway," She went on swiftly, dazzling the audience with another plastic smile. "Onto the next award...

"This Downie is presented to a member and a certain character of his who didn’t let anything stop them when chasing “those rotten rats” when they attacked Bree a wee while ago. This award may not be the one he has certainly been anticipating, but he deserves every bit of it, for never fully letting a certain Carchmoroth and her wolf pack off the hook totally, and for doing more than his fair share of “skull splitting”…

"This Downie is ‘The Patience is a Virtue’ award, and with it comes a memorial wolf skin hat with authentic Bree Wolf trophy tail, and is for allowing the Warg Pack time to regroup before harassing them again! And it is presented to...Helkahothion!" The audience burst out cheering and clapping, and Aman whispered into the mike, "Cue Hound Dog."

You ain't nothing but a hound dog
Been snoopin' round my door
You ain't nothing but a hound dog
Been snoopin' round my door
You can wag your tail
But I ain't gonna feed you no more
You told me you was high class
I could see through that
You told me you was high class
I could see through that
And baby I know
You ain't no real cool cat
You ain't nothing but a hound dog
Been snoopin' round my door
You ain't nothing but a hound dog
Been snoopin' round my door
You can wag your tail
But I ain't gonna feed you no more
You made me feel so blue
You made me weep and moan
You made me feel so blue
You made me weep and moan
'Cause I'm looking for a woman
All your lookin' for is a home
You ain't nothing but a hound dog
Been snoopin' round my door
You ain't nothing but a hound dog
Been snoopin' round my door
You can wag your tail
But I ain't gonna feed you no more


As Helka was making his speech, Aman started to edge away off stage, and arrived backstage just in time to here these words...

"We’ve got the rest of the award show to get through, then we’re out of here. Aman, Aylwen, and Squatter can run the RPG forums for a while. We can PM them if need be."

WHAT?! Aman stormed down the corridor, and knocked at the door. There was a moments silence, followed by a frantic whispered conversation, then silence again...followed by the sound of a piece of heavy furniture being dragged against the door. Aman gasped, banging on the door again, then throwing herself against it- what was going on in there?!

[Mithadan]

Captain Gravlox, who possessed a bit more wit than most Orcs, undertood that his position as head of security involved more than simply keeping the peace. Thus, as the audience murmured in shock, he swept up a fallen clipboard and a golden trophy and stepped out to the podium. Ignoring the fact that the average Orc has a deep-rooted fear of public speaking, he addressed the audience.

"Our next Downie Award pays homage to a valued trait of Barrow-Downs' RPGs; their commitment to authenticity. We strive to have our RPGs mirror the works of our favorite author as closely as possible. Thus, we present the Canon Award for the RPG Most Faithful to the Spirit of Tolkien. And the winner is...Estelyn Telcontar for 'The Revenge of the Entish Bow'!"

As Led Zeppelin's 'Whole Lotta Love' begins to play, the spotlights search through the audience and come to rest on a tall woman standing in the rear of the auditorium signing autographs. She seems surprised and raises a hand to her chest. Moi? Then she steped forward towards the stage throwing kisses to all and sundry.

She fairly raced up the steps and strode forcefully to the podium where she snatched the trophy from the Orc's claws and raised it triumphantly in the air. "You like me, you really like me," she cried. "Oh, this is such a shock. I must begin by thanking all the little people who made this possible...but I'm so bad at recalling the names of little people. Let's see... There was the Dwarf with the Dragon, Booboowarren. Then there was that nasty animal person, Thirdbland, and the one who did all those cameos, Deathfairy."

She took a deep breath and thought hard. "Who else? Oh yes, the one who played the two half-Elves, Pieman18. And of course there was that darling Arrowbite whose character was in love with me. And Potter of Baby Ruth, whose character was in love with me. And also Jimbob, whose character was in love with me. Oh, and Iffyplan, whose funny little Orc character was in love with me. Oh thank you, everyone!"

[Lady Alasse]

Alasse entered through a side door just as Mithadan collapsed an apple with a single bite in it.

Shouts of-

"Murder!" and

"Vengeance!" echoed throught the hall!

"What in Middle-Earth?!" she gasped. Noticing Nuru who was near the front craning her neck up at the stage she ran toward her, nearly tripping over several pairs of feet, and various hobbit children.

"What happened?" She questioned breathlessly, as Pio quickly dragged Mithadan of the stage and behind the curatain.

"I don't know!" Nuru sounded like Alasse felt- hysterical.

"The Mods had just given him the award for golden promises- a golden apple and He thanked them and then yelled to Lush telling her to wait, that they had an award for her an suddenly he just keeled over!"She gushed.

"I'm going to go ask Pio if there is anything I can do to help!" Alasse determined,"Can you hold a seat for me?"

Not waiting for a reply she jumped onto the stage as Aman hurried to the podium.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: Lady Alasse ]

[mark12_30]

The vast majority of the audience was completely distracted by Gravlox and all attention returned to the stage. Feeling very disposable indeed, Gamba realised that except for a handful of brave but rather reluctant elves, the whole show was continuing on without taking so much as a glance at the wolf-hobbit altarcation. Grimly he hung on. "She may have killed off her husband, but she won't get me without a fight, " he promised himself through clenched teeth. How he would keep his promise to himself he did not know.

The audience continued happily cheering Estelyn and her award. Gravlox seemed disgruntled that the attention was no longer on him anymore.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[piosenniel]

Carchmoroth, Durelin, and Dugoroth paced the perimeter of the stage behind the podium. Carchmoroth stopped for a moment, a feral light gleaming in his eyes. Someone apparently had let in a wolf pack and several other Wargs, who had engaged several of the audience members briefly and were now ringed by a group of concerned looking Elves.

Durelin snorted at the undisciplined behavior of their wilder cousins. Pio had instructed the three of them to guard the entrance to the back stage, and that was what they were doing.

Ever the critic, Carchmoroth commented on the last presenter.

That new Innkeeper’s not a bad speaker for someone who doesn’t like doing that sort of thing.

Dugoroth nodded his head in agreement.

Personally, though, I like the musty Uruk who just spoke. More my type.

A frown rippled across his brow as he watched his sister trot back to check on Pio . . .

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami stood outside the locked door to Mithadan's dressing room, rattling the knob back and forth in a futile attempt to force it open. Then she remembered her bobby pin and reached inside her pocket, jamming it into the lock, and wiggling it about until she heard the tell-tale 'click'. She slammed her body against the door with as much strength as she had, but still it remained stubbornly in place.

Remembering where she'd last seen her escort, Cami turned and headed for the dressing room on the far right where a table of goodies had been set up for the staff. A large golden dragon stood nearby, preening her wings and enjoying a few choice tidbits. Upon seeing the hobbit, the wyrm yawned warily and stretched, then tried to look unconcerned, "So you've gotten yourself in trouble and now you want me to help. This certainly sounds familiar. And not just to help anyone, but the one person in all of Arda with whom I have a serious quarrel."

"Yes, please. It's Mithadan. He's not feeling well." Cami tugged on the dragon's wing until she propelled her over in front of the door. The wyrm shrugged her shoulders, "Alright, I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it for Piosenniel who managed to get herself in this jam by following in Mithadan's footsteps against my better advice."

One blast of fire from Angara and the wooden door was reduced to toast.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Lady Alasse]

"Gamba!" Alasse shouted as she grabbed one of the varios torches which were lighting the room and waved it at the vicious warg, "Here! she tossed the torch at the hobbit who was still clinging to the wargs back despite all its attempts to throw him.

Quickly she ran to the other side of the stage and grabbed another torch.

"Get back you nasty warg! I've got a torch and I'm not afraid to use it." to prove her point she again lunged at the warg this time the torch conected with its tail and it yelped and began to back away. She had never fought like this before! she was a Musician! Not a Warrior!

Suddenly she was thrown to the floor as the third warg which she had somehow forgotten about lunged at her.

"Help!..."

[Frodo Baggins]

"I can't believe we weren't told!" Maggie fumed. "Of all things LATE!" Maggie was hustling Frodo in front of her and dragging Isildae by the wrist, having a tantrum the whole way. Elrond, next to her was dragging Cromthal in much the same manner as Maggie was Isildae. If he and Maggie had one thing in common, it was that they absolutely hated being late to anything, dinner, an appiontment, bed, you name it they hated being late to it. Elrond hadn't quite reached the fever pitch that Maggie had but you could tell by the way he moved he was less than pleased.

"Oh look, they reserved a place for us." Frodo said as they found a table and sat down, hoping they hadn't missed too much. No oen answered.

[Mornie Alantie]

As Mornie wondered how to battle the foul beast, he noticed a blue curtain that hung on the wall. Going over to it he climbed up it to reach a small hallway balcony that was a short distance from the wargs. Right above the beasts was a gold and glass chandelier which with a good size leap could be reached from the balcony. He took a breath, down below one of the musicians fought off the wargs with a torch but had been knocked down. Calling upon the Valar leaped with all his might and cought with little space to spare the chandelier. With the impact of his body the glass prisms were losened from its dazeling fixture and fell with a briliance of rays of light upon the stooping warg below. The warg fled, but didn't escape being poked in the eye by the fall stars as it seemed. With a series of flipp Mornie leaped from the light upon the head of the hobbit occupied warg he lunged upon his hind legs throwing the hobbit, but Mornie held on.

[The Saucepan Man]

Throughout most of the recent upheaval, the Saucepan Man had been sitting at the back of the auditorium, enthusiastically clapping and cheering, assuming that it was all part of the show. Even when Mithadan collapsed and was unceremoniously dragged off the stage, he assumed that it had all been planned. But then he saw a young Hobbit lad struggling on the back of an enormous and evil-looking wolf that was trying to reach round and snap at him with its ferocious fangs.

Deciding that this was probably not how things were meant to be going, Saucepan sprang up and once again armed himself with a hefty iron frying-pan in one hand and a solid steel saucepan in the other. After all, he had some unresolved business of his own with these Wargs, and this definately did not look a fair fight.

"PAN-ZAI!" he yelled at the top of his voice as he rushed down the passage to the front of the auditorium brandishing his pans, managing to trip up only twice on the way.

By the time he reached the altercation between the young Hobbit and the Warg, several Elves had joined the fray.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: The Saucepan Man ]

[mark12_30]

Gamba, dislodged by Mornie, flew gratefully through the air and landed with an oomph. He looked back, and saw all three wolves engaged by brave and daring elves and a man wearing an assortment of pots and pans, and he gave a very grateful sigh of relief.

But there was an unanswered question, still. Mithadan! Where was he? What had happened?

He grabbed another torch, and headed backstage. One of the large wargs headed towards him, and he hastily fed the torch to him and ran between his legs. Gurgling howls of rage echoed behind him and two more wargs gave chase, getting closer; but Gamba had seen someone he recognized, and without thinking, ran up to safety along her tail and her back.

"Angara, WOLVES!" he yelped in terror. Angara spun in surprise at the footsteps on her back, and sent a snort of flame behind her. It so happened that it singed the two warg's shouts, and they backed up snarling.

"MOM!" Gamba yelled. "How is Mithadan?"

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Manardariel]

"Oh dear. Ooooh dear. Honestly can this get any worse??" Manardariel stuffed a piece of chocolate in her mouth. She was nervous, she was paniking: something was wrong with Mith, Aman was looking REALLY frantic, and Lush had -unpurpously of course- ruined the best pun in her presentation speech by dissapearing.

A random stagecrew-person addressed her.
"Are you Manardariel? Because if you are, you´re next." Okay. It could get worse. "But...But..." she blubbered. "Sorry. No discussion" the guy said and was gone. "Okay," she told herself "Here we go."

She stuffed a piece of chocolate in her mouth -always good against stagefright- and walked outside. Music sounded, cheering errupted. She noticed she had forgotten her notes. Damn! Improvisation it should be, impro it would be. Blinking in the dazzeling flashlight she made her way to the mic. Deep breath... here we go.

"BARROWDOWNERS MAKE SOME NOISE!" It worked. Cheering, clapping, screams errupted from below. When they had calmed down a bit, Manardariel cleared her thoat again.

"Now unfortuntly I was so stunned by the WONDERFUL AUDIENCE- " she stopped, as more cheering came from down "I forgot what I wanted to say." Occasional Awwwwws from the audience. "But I think I still recall what it was... ahh yes. I am here to present what sounds like an... interesting award. And it´s for a person without who the Downs probably wouldn´t really go round... we´d probably be going sideways!" Laughs. "And Ladies, Gentlemen, Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, Hippo and Chiken I am proud to say the Three toed toad award for the slowest Mod -and if may add that, the NICEST- goes to the One, the only, the faboulous PIO!!"

The audience positvly exploded. Cheers, yells, screams.... Manardariel was almost sure she saw some grout fall off the walls. She reached for the mic again. "And in case you don´t know the music, that´s Angel by the Dave Matthews band.. I guess the title´s self explanitory!" She grinned, turned to the big portal and waited for Pio.

Angel
I call you up
You pick up
You call my bluff
On the card to love
You hold too close
Your hands to your chest
I can read your eyes
But I confess
It's lonely far from you, oh

Even when you're right by me
It's only why I wait for you
To take my hand

Why do I beg like a child for your candy?
Why do I come after you like I do, I love you?
Wherever you are
I swear
You be my angel
You

I play my cards the best I can
But I lose my luck when you're not here
My darling heart
Won't you please give in?
I may be strong
But I want you back again

When you're not here it's hard to pretend
It's all alright again
When you're not here love it's hard to pretend
It's all alright but still
Why do I beg like a child for your candy?
Why do I run after you like I do, I love you?
Whatever you are
I swear
You be my angel, you

Watch the deck
Count your cards
Makes no sense
That I'm always losing
When you're gone

Why do I beg like a child for your candy?
Why do I come after you like I do, I love you
Whatever you are
I swear
You'll be my angel, you
When you're gone

[piosenniel]

Durelin padded softly behind the Elf. Apparently the two Man-child friends had abandoned Pio and she was headed back toward the MASH unit, her fingers caressing the glowing red jewel at her throat.

The Warg watched as the Elf rummaged on a high shelf in one of the cubicles for something, then drew down a silver case. Snick . . . snick . . . went the latches, and the top section was pulled up revealing a softly glowing screen. The amber, power indicator light gleamed brightly in the left hand corner of the keyboard.

Welcome, Pio! What do you wish to do? scrolled across the screen at the touch of the Elf’s index finger to the identipad.

Just a minor readjustment, my friend. she keyed in quickly.

Removing the red jewel from the thong around her throat she seated it in the specially made port to the right of the ‘Escape’ key.

Press to enter program. flashed on the screen in small red letters.

Her finger hovered above the red jewel, a smile playing on her lips . . .

[Lyra Greenleaf]

Lyra cheered for all the people who won awards, they were nearly all people she knew! It was very exciting, like being part of a happy family. Then they got to Helka... She gaped, exchanging grins with Rytien.
"Elf boy's getting what he deserves. I bet he'll be upset it's not 'Stud of the Downs'" she said, smiling. "Suitable song though..."

There was a lot of frantic Mod scurrying around going on by the looks of things, and various cries of "Murder"- well what do you expect of the Barrowdowns? Suddenly she scowled.
"What I want to know is if they're so short of presenters, and people keep not turning up why won't they let me?"

[Arien]

Arien took a deep breath and stepped out onto the stage, with a full glass of coke and rum in one hand and the Downie award in the other. After the little scene Mith made when he apparently fainted and The Saucepan Man had seemingly beaten the poor Wrag creature to almost death with his iron the crowd had calmed down and were back to their usual rowdy selves. She walked straight to the podium, her heart pounding, why was this so hard to do? She took a little sip from her glass as she reached the podium. Arien settled both items down on its glass top and brushed her hair out of her face.

“Hello Barrow Downs!!” she shouted into the mic. This was followed by a few minutes of shouting and cheering , during which she waited patiently. “I am here to present the H.E.R.O.S award. For those of you who are no associated with them, H.E.R.O.S stands for Help Eradicate Rasty Orcs Society.” she paused and was greeted by a loud cheer from the audience and nasty looks from the orcs guarding the doors. She shrugged, “Over the years H.E.R.O.S has helped those small villages in danger of eradication in the hands of those evil orcs…..” she was greeted by a couple of boo’s from the guards.

“Oh stop your whining, its true!” said a random voice from the crowd.

“Thank you, this award will be presented to the Downer for their outstanding service in leading and executing the elimination of 15,000, yes you heard me right 15,000 orcs with the assist of fellow downers!” Arien was greeted by more cheers from the crowd.

“Of course, this needed great planning and although some of the company died, *cough Belegond cough*, he did an amazing job in saving Erebor! So Himaran this award is for you!!! Cue music!”

Michael Jackson, Heal the World Starts to play, and the crowd starts to chant Himaran, Himaran.

Himarans Post


Himaran stepped forward, gladly accepting the award from Arien. "Thank you, I had never dreamed of getting downy. And, surprisingly, it wasn't just for doing something stupid!.

I'll make this short, because we have many other awards to give out! I'd like to give a note of gratitude to all the members of my group. Without them, I would never have defeated the army, or finished the rpg for that matter. Also, A special thanks to my brother, Carrun, for introducing me to the Barrow-Downs. Keep playing in those rpgs!!!"

With that, he left the stage, to the rousy applause of the audience.

[ May 08, 2003: Message edited by: Arien ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami could hear a lot of noise and snarling going on outside. She hoped that someone would come to the aid of whoever was being attacked.

She ran over to Mithadan's prostrate form and tugged fiercely at his sleeve. "Oh, please, wake up, Mr. Admin." she pleaded. "Don't be more dead than you already are. I promise to answer your e-mails right away, and not sneak any more books of magic into the Inn. Just don't be dead."

In desperation, Cami turned her pockets inside out and finally found what she was seeking: "Instant Athelas, Good for Whatever Ails You" At least, she'd had the wits to put in an order from Melificent at the same time that she'd gotten the poisoned fruit. Cami quickly skimmed the directions. This didn't seem to be a canonical remedy. Still, she couldn't be choosy.

She poured the brew down his mouth, and sat back on her heels to wait as he coughed and gagged, then struggled up to consciousness. The Wight sat up quite suddenly with a grim look on his face. He glared over at Cami, "Don't think that innocent hobbit routine is going to save you today. You three are going to be sorry. If you think you had it bad before, just wait till after the party ends."

"Yes, I'm sorry, really sorry," Cami spluttered out. "But you have to listen to me. There's something funny going on here. Pio is carrying around a bag and she won't show anyone what's inside. The wargs growl and snap when anyone comes near. She bought Bethberry and I tickets for a two-month cruise, but I don't think she planned to go herself. She was trying to get us out of the way."

"Mithadan, you have to get up. I don't think she'll make her move until the awards are over. Please get the show on the road. But, whatever you do, be careful. I think Pio has something funny up her sleeve."

With that, she stood the wobbly Mithadan on his feet and pulled him along behind her. As she emerged through the doorway, she caught a brief glimpse of her son, and responded to his question, "How's Mithadan? Feeling much better, much better indeed. Just a little misunderstanding." Now let's get him back on stage so he can make sure and give all these deserving people their awards. She hurriedly shoved Mithadan in Gamba's direction, and was about to scurry off to try and hunt for Piosenniel when Aman came running towards her.

Outside she heard the cheers for Himaran's award. Oh, boy, she thought. One of my favorite games in the Shire. He certainly deserves all the applause he's getting.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[Lady Alasse]

As alasse stared up into the wargs fangs she saw her life flash before her eyes. Was this the end then? she wondered. noticing that the faint clanking sound was gradually growing louder, she saw out of the corner of her eye a shinging, Armored?, figure dash up the stairs to the stage. It weilded a large Iron Frying pan? It must be Saucepan man!

[mark12_30]

Gamba reached up and took Mithadan's arm. "You okay?"

"Let's get to the stage, " Mith growled, unsteadily.

"Right." Gamba obeyed, and Angara sent another puff of flame after the wargs, who slunk off. Gamba steadied Mith as he walked back towards the stage, and then Gamba slipped behind a curtain as the Captain went onstage and spoke.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Lady Alasse]

The Warg looked up suddenly its eyes intent apon something behind Alasse. Craning her neck back to saw a slightly shakey figure emerge from behind the blue curtain. Mithadan? Yes it was. Suddenly the warg cringed. Then It turned tail and ran down the aisle.

YES! she thought, someone must have made it to him in time! we've won!

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman ran down the other corridor. She had come to apparently the wrong door, and came into the corridor at the other side of the room just as Cami was waking up Mithadan. She stood breathlessly in the doorway.

Mithadan, you have to get up. I don't think she'll make her move until the awards are over. Please go get the show on the road. But, whatever you do, be careful. I think she has something up her sleeve."

Aman heard Cami desperately speaking to Mithadan, before she shoved him through the door. Aman looked from the still dazed and more than half asleep Mithadan to the panicky hobbit.

"Cami...Cami, what is....where is....why are...huh?" She finished, rather lamely. The little hobbit looked at her, her eyes full of anxiety and worry.

"I dont know, Aman. Its something to do with Pio, she got some cruise tickets for herself, Bethberry and I, but...well, I dont think she meant to go! I think....I think she may have been trying to get us out of the way." Cami finished.

Aman stared at her. "Trying to get you out of the way? But...why?"

"Hey, you're full of questions Aman, and I can't give you any of the answers."

Amans mouth suddenly tightened as an idea formed itself in steel in her mind. "Well, there's only really one person we can ask, isnt there? Mithadan, come on, we need to get you out there. And then Pio has got some explaining to do here..."

Aman took one arm and Cami took the other and together, they tried to steer the still unsteady Mithadan back to the stage...

[Mithadan]

Mithadan took the stage with a smile and a wave. Not surprisingly, there was little applause and more than a little grumbling about the "bad joke". He whispered into his microphone as he walked. "Gravlox, find Piosenniel, she...needs to accept her award. And put out all those fires, please."

Stepping up to the podium, he said in a loud voice, "An award for Piosenniel! Has anyone seen Pio?" He ignored the sounds backstage of the Uruks breaking down doors...

[Ainaserkewen]

“To present The Gonzo Award for the Moderator Most Likely to Go Postal and Wipe Out the Population of an Inn, Head of the MAMI (Mothers Against Magical Influence), feminist, and leader of the BAEB (Ban All Evil Books) campaign…
Daphne Benelli!!!”
(Insert splattered applause)(Ainaserkewen was going to present the award, but disappeared suddenly beforehand, Veanca could not be found either, so they found the nearest person and used her.)
A very strict and stiff woman walks up to the podium. She is wearing a crisp plain white blouse and a very modest length grey skirt with black flats. Her hair is in a tight low bun, and she wears glasses.
She sets her laptop on the podium, and begins her speech.
“Fist and foremost, I would like to express my disgusted disappointment in each and every one of you! Your beloved author of the evil devil books you love so much is corrupting this world’s children to evil! Magic! Dragons! Elves! Shame on you all!”
Stunned silence fills the room. There is no clapping or any noise except the lone cough far away.
“MAMI and the BAEB will be paying you all a little visit very soon!”
Jaws dropped and a hobbit in the back starts to cry. Everyone is speechless, too horrified that there ever was such a person, to be angry. Who let this bozo in anyway!!!
“But getting on with things…” She continued. “The Gonzo Award for the Moderator Most Likely to Go Postal and Wipe Out the Population of an Inn, whom the winner has been enjoying Tolkien’s books for over 35 years, goes to…”
She opened the envelope slowly for effect. There was a drum roll and a trumpet fanfare.
“Before I tell you, know that you are all aiding with Satan’s plan’s for conquest.
The winner is…The Child of the 7th age, Cami Goodchild!!!”
Tremendous applause erupts. People are standing up and clapping, whistling and hooting.
Over the din, the pit band starts to play an odd Canadian song that Ainaserkewen had picked out. A new group called “The Arrogant Worms” who were known to write very unusual stuff.

It’s great to be a nerd,
It’s great to be a nerd,
The only light we ever see
Is from our monitor,
We hate watching sports, cause we reading Carl Seggen,
But we’d watch the Olympics if they played “Dungeons and Dragons”
“I’m a hobbit!!!” Someone cried.
It’s great to be a nerd,
It’s great to be a nerd,
We think Tolkien was a genius
And Shakespeare was a turd!

People liked the song, but it was really weird.
Cami laughed good-naturedly along with it anyway.

[Bêthberry]

Madly trying to follow the reams of paper dropped on the floor when Mithadan had fallen, Bêthberry valiantly attempted to guide and direct the presentation of awards in order to distract the frantic audience from any malfeasiance that had been played out. So far, it had worked, with several more Downies being presented.

Then, she saw Cami push a wobbly Mithadan out towards the front of the auditorium. Bêthberry ran towards him, quite relieved to see him less dead than he had been at their last meeting. She ran towards him, wondering if he needed any of her herbal remedies or if he was in need of yet another healing ritual. There was a swimming pool behind the auditorium and surely he would know how to swim?

[The Saucepan Man]

"Don't panic!" yelled the Saucepan Man, as he launched his pannic attack.

The momentum of his headlong hurtle down the auditorium (punctuated only by the odd clatter as he tripped, rolled over and kept running) carried him straight into the first of the canine terrors. Reacting instantly, he brought the huge black frying pan to bear on the wolf's muzzle. The beast let out a terrifying whimper as its legs crumpled beneath it.

As he whirled round with surprising grace, the trusty pot in Saucepan's other hand met the chest of another of the beasts as it leapt towards him, jaws snapping furiously.

"Back to Pan-demonium with you, Hound of Hell!" he cried victoriously as the unfortunate wolf was knocked back and landed against the side of the stage with a howl.

As the assembled Elves and Hobbits surrounded the two felled beasts, a third crept up on Saucepan from behind. Attempting to catch him in its mighty maw, its jaws met only the steel of a large cooking pot. The wolf retreated and then, as Saucepan turned, jumped at him. Its weight knocked him flying back against the wall of the auditorium with a mighty crash.

As he slumped to the floor, Saucepan briefly caught a glimpse of Mithadan wandering back out onto the stage before he lost consciousness, more in complete and utter shock at the surprisingly co-ordinated and effective nature of his attack than anything else.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: The Saucepan Man ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami slunk back terrified behind the stage curtain when she heard her name announced to receive an award. This was truly awful. If she'd felt a little guilty before for what she'd done to Mithadan, she felt a lot more guilty now. Perhaps, he'd even nominated her for this cherished award.

Why had she ever listened to Piosenniel? As was usually the case, the Elf probably had some secret up her sleeve. Cami sighed and pulled herself together so that she could listen more carefully to Daphne Benelli. After a few minutes of listening to the presentation, Cami was rapdily developing second doubts about both Ainaserkewen and Mithadan. Where had the two of them come up with this bozo? Surely, they could have found a better hobbit than this to present her award. This Benelli seemed to be putting a definite damper on things.

Still, an award is an award, and she couldn't afford to be picky if she wanted to claim her Golden Tombstone. Cami straightened her skirts, pushed her hand through her curls, and stepped up to the microphone, coyly smiling. "From all of us out in Nerd-land, I'd like to offer my deepest thanks." Cami looked at Mithadan and tittered a little nervously. He must have had some idea of how she'd spent her college years in the late sixties for her to receive an award of this particular nature. "And I'd also like to thank all of my friends in the Downs. You know who you are. Especially in the Shire. That is, all my friends except for Piosenniel who had the bad sense to lead me astray." She glared around looking for the Elf, but could not see her anywhere.

Then she gave a little curtsey to Mithadan, nodded to the audience, and cradling her Tombstone in her arms, before walking off stage.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: Child of the 7th Age ]

[piosenniel]

Cue a previous scene . . .

Strains of Dave Matthew’s Angel floated faintly into the cubicle where Pio sat. That and the mention of her name.

Someone had given her an award!

Reluctantly, she snapped shut the laptop, and putting it under her arm, ran helter-skelter to the stage. Manardiel stood blinking in the spotlight, having been pushed to the side by Gravlox as the next presenter took the stage.

Pio giggled as she read the inscription on the Downie. The word ‘NICEST’ leapt out at her. ‘I guess I won’t be getting this again next year!’ She gave Manardariel a big hug and thanked her for the presentation. ‘I hope they don’t pelt you with tomatoes for giving me this,’ she said, jamming the award in her pants pocket.

‘Take care!’ she said, leaping from the stage and dashing for the door. ‘See you back at the Shire!’

Durelin followed, snapping viciously at anyone who tried to lay on hand on the escaping Elf.

She slowed down as she neared the exit, a few more steps and she would be through the door. The dulcet tones of the revived admin hit her like a shock-wave, spurring her on more quickly . . .

[mark12_30]

Gamba looked out from behind the curtain at the brilliant final victory over the wolves. Aside from a little mopping up, it was the SaucePan Man who was the decisive blade-- er, pot-- er, utensil-- nevermind. Anyway, the wolves were vanquished, and Cami was getting an award ("Yay, Mom!" Gamba hollered, but it was lost in the hubbub.)

He'd been there long enough. He slipped out into the audience, rounded up his four kids, and they made a quick exit. They objected.

"Come on, we'd had enough excitement. With Piosenniel on the rampage, there's no telling what else will go crazy. We'd better just move on." They found some woods, and Gamba breathed a sigh of relief and headed deeper into the forest.

[Lady Alasse]

Alasse dragged herself to her feet noticing several wargs which were slumped unconsious around the floor. Looking over she saw Saucepan man lying unconcious against the wall. she made her way gingerly over the fallen wargs and knelt down by Saucepan man.

"Wake up!" she urged as she shook himnone to gently, "Saucepan man Mithadan is back! Wake up!"

She glanced up just as Pio dashed up to the stage to receive her award and then ran helter-skelter down the aisle yelling, "See you at the Shire." She had nearly made it to the door.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: Lady Alasse ]

[Mornie Alantie]

Mornie awoke to a man wielding vioriously a saucepan. He wondered if he was in a coma like dream or something. but then he heard the loud cheers and saw the beated wargs and remembered that he was thrown from the warg just before the pan man's arrival. He thanked him, but in the corner of his eye he notice an elf hurrying suspiciously to the exit, he decided to follow her.

[Annunfuiniel]

Annun watched the chaos with growing irritation. It was seriously disturbing the awards ceremony. Things are getting out of hand here and I know just who to blame! She reached once more for her precious cell phone and dialed the familiar number.

“Well hello, Pete! … Yes, I’m fine thank you but now you’ll just listen to me for a while. I’m pretty upset at the moment and guess whose fault is that?? … Don’t know what I’m talking about, huh? Well let me tell you! Wargriders, hobbits and elves doing stunt-tricks and whatnot. Ring a bell? … Yes, do that please! … Just hold on a second.”

Annun did some more searching and finally, with the help of Sophia, she found a loud speaker which she connected to her mobile (got to admire this modern technology!).
“Ready when you are”, Annun exclaimed to the phone.

“CUUUUUUUTTTTT!!!!!!!” came the somewhat commanding voice calling for everyone’s attention. The auditorium hushed in a second, the odd wargs disappeared as if by magic and all the action ceased.
Annun sighed with relief, unplugged the loud speaker and spoke again to the receiver.

“Thanks a lot, PJ. Yes, that took care of our little problem here. Yes, there’s potential in some of them, natural talents I might say. … I’ll tell them you might be interested… Ok, let’s talk about business later, the show must go on now. Bye!”

With that she ended the call, gave the orchestra a mark to carry on and took her seat between smirking Sophia and Alak. The room waited in dead silence for the next award to be presented…

[Lady Alasse]

"Hey wait for me." Alasse cried to Mornie. She jumped up and rushed after Mornie and Pio, noticing as she ran that another huge warg was protecting the elf's escape route snapping at all who came near!

Alasse reached for her flute which hung from the small belt around her waist. She stopped for a moment and lifted the instrument to her lip. A long high note echoed through the hall and then stopped. She quickly re attached the flute to her belt and ran out towards the great wooden doors. The Warg lunged at her and had almost grabbed her skirt in its mouth when suddenly a large dark shadow flew through the open door and grabbed it by the scruff of its neck, and then dropped it.

"You called?" the Lord of the eagles questioned as Alasse leaped unto his back, gesturing for Mornie to do the same, "Yes! Follow that Elf!"

[Firondoiel]

Firondoiel breathed a sigh of relief when everyone was finally calmed down. She has missed most of the action because she had fallen asleep. She had just woken up in time to see the Saucepan man clobber a few wargs and Mithadan wobbling onto the stage.

"What happened?" she asked Arafangwen who was just returning to her seat.

"Don't ask." was the reply.

Firondoiel glanced at Menelien who shrugged then turned over and appeared to go back to sleep.

Firondoiel sighed. Just my luck to miss all the action. she thought then turned to look for LinGalad.

[Mithadan]

Saucepan Man struggled to his feet. Then he yawned migtily and extended his arms. The result of this action was that pots and pans swung about wildly. Unfortunately, at least for some, the vector upon which Piosenniel happened to be racing for the door happened to intersect precisely with the arc taken by one of S. Man's larger pots.

The resulting CLANG was overshadowed only by the dramatic backflip and crash to the floor performed by Piosenniel. She did not wake for some time, and when she did, she was surrounded by friends, comrades and a large contingent of Orcs. The bag containing the laptop was firmly in the grasp of Angara...

[Mornie Alantie]

Mornie Leaped upon the eagle's back thanking him.

"What is that Elf up to?" he asked.

[Ainaserkewen]

"Has anyone seen Cami?" Ainaserkewen said sitting down again with Veanca.
"She left in a hurry." Veanca said.
"Where were you to present that award?" Arafangwen asked, she was sitting near them.
"Uh, I had to leave for a moment, but who filled in?"
"Some phyco lady who was shaming us!" Firondoiel said.
"Yah, but then Cami didn't show up, We planned this and everything!" Ainaserkewen was really sad now.
"Don't worry about it. It was pretty crazy over here. Did you here PJ? CUUUUUUTTTTT!"
Ainaserkewen giggled at Arafangwen.
"No, but sounds like we missed alot."
"It was great."
"Oh well, who's up next?" Veanca asked.
I don't know, but I need to excuse myself for a moment to visit the little girls room, anyone need to join me? Common Arafangwen, I have oodles to tell you!"

[Lady Alasse]

"I'm not quite certain myself." The elf maiden mutterd to Mornie. Just then one of Saucepan mans many pans arched through the air barely missing Alasse, Mornie, and the eagle they were riding. It crashed down on Pio's head with a loud bang and she sank unconscious to the floor.

[piosenniel]

Pio gasped as she woke and saw the ring of leering Orc faces. She shook her head, driving away the image of a night she and Bird once spent in some dive on the river level of Gondor.

Her heart nearly stopped when she saw Angara had the bag with the laptop. Then she relaxed and smiled. She’d had an entire year to learn about ‘double-encrypted password protection and instruction guided from only designated persons devices’.

No need to fear any real interference from the concerned group who stood looking down at her.

‘My laptop, Angara. Hand it over, if you please . . .’

[Mornie Alantie]

As the eagle flew to the circle of orcs and landed Mornie jumped off to se the warg that had been knocked out by the eagle, getting ready to ponce on the lady holding Piosseniel's laptop. He rushed for the lady and just before the warg reached her Mornie collided with the beast hurtleling it across the room.

[Cuthalion]

Taking advantage of the lull in the proceedings, Cuthalion took the stage. He adjusted the mike to his over-average height and smiled, squinting into the spots.

"Greetings, gentle-beings! The person I was so graciously chosen to present an award to truly needs no introduction, but since I'm here...let me take the time to thank Anuion for giving us all that memorable sound-effect "KALBANG!" *snickers uncontrollably* And Mithadan, I have my eye on you...interesting PM's.

Back to the award. Here she is folks! First Lady of Calamity, Mistress of Mischief...and yeah, yeah of Sauron...rrrrrrrr! Here to recieve the Beanie Baby Award for the Nicest, Least Threatening Member...wait, did I read that right? Anyway, put your hands together for MAIKADILWEN!!"

The Maestro cued the orchestra and 'Devil With the Blue Dress On' by Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels filled the room as the spot crews panned the audience for the award's recipient.

[Oddwen]

I sit confused...more than usual...
"What just happened?" I muttered. "And what is still happening?" Maybe dozing off wasn't such a good thing at an awards ceremony.

[Maikadilwen]

"Here to recieve the Beanie Baby Award for the Nicest, Least Threatening Member...MAIKADILWEN!!"

At the mentioning of her name, Maika woke up with a start. She had drifted off after Cuthalion had left her sitting alone without his supporting arms. Maybe she shouldn't have got that last drink after all....

A bit confused she rose from her seat, but as soon as the spotlight hit her, she put on the playful smile everyone knew so well and went up on the stage where she was greeted by Cuthalion.
With a big kiss she accepted the award (whatever it was, the shape was a little suspicious) and went to the mike, looking at all the people who expected her to say something.
With a smile she raised the award in a greeting.

"Uhm..... Thanks!" she said and turned to go, but immediately she was grabbed by the shoulders by Cuthalion who did his best to persuade her to say just a little more.
Sighing, Maika stepped back in front of the mike.
"Ok, so I'm supposed to actually say something clever here. Well, since I didn't expect to get an award, I haven't prepared a speech, but just in case, I've brought a small list with a few names and key-words..."

With those words she pulled out a scroll (how she had managed to hide a thing that size in that dress would remain a mystery) and when she held up the first page, the end of the list had reached the floor in front of her.

"Well, I'd like to thank... uhm..... Now what does it say here? Mithadan? No way, that can't be! Uhm... I'd like to thank...."

Cuthalion held a hand to his head, sighing. This was going to be a very long night.

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Maikadilwen ]

[Lady Alasse]

The warg went one way Mornie went the other. Alasse stared down from her perch on the eagles back She was almost dislodged from it when The Eagle swooped down and under Mornie catching him as he fell.

"Look out below!" she cried as the eagle dived. The various Elves Hobbits, and creatures attending the awrads ceremony ducked as it skimmed through the air just inches from there heads.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: Lady Alasse ]

[Orual]

Rie folded Talômi's collar down and fussed with his hair for a moment, her face flushed with nerves. She tucked her own loose wisps of hair behind her ears, cracked her knuckles, adjusted her necklace, fiddled with her earrings, checked her shoes, checked Talômi's outfit, and fidgeted with her dress until Talômi gripped her hands.

"Honestly, Rie. Calm down," he said in a soft voice. The tech crew milled around behind them, making sure everything was functioning. They were up next, and Talômi had the envelope in his hands. Rie stopped, and smiled sheepishly.

"I'm just nervous. I want to get it right," she said. "I really don't want to mess this up."

"You won't. Come on, we're up!" He half-dragged her onto the stage, and suddenly there were lights everywhere.

Trying not to squint, Rie waved and smiled brightly. The applause died down, and Talômi took the podium.

"The role-playing games on the Barrow-Downs are a place where writers with often little more in common than a love of Tolkien's work are able to gather and create impressive works together," he began.

"And one of the many attributes of the best writers on the Downs is their ability to write characters of various affiliations," Rie continued. "It takes a strong writer to write a character very different from her, whether she's good, or has her own nasty side to her."

"And of course, there are enough of our writers who have their nasty sides," Talômi snickered. He continued to snicker until Rie elbowed him in the ribs, at which point he broke off with a grunt. Rie smiled sweetly at the audience.

"Many of our writers have played good characters and bad, but there are only a few of them who have played both sides in a single RPG," Rie said, while Talômi was still gripping his side, muttering to himself. "So it is our pleasure to announce the winner of the 'Look Fairer and Seem Fouler Award' for Performances in Multi-Ethic roles in a single RPG."

Talômi straightened and handed the envelope to Rie, who opened it carefully. She unfolded the paper and, grinning widely, said in unison with Talômi,

"Nurumaiel, for her performances as Angelica, Fosco, and the evil Bill Ferny, in Shadow of the Star!"

The room erupted with cheers, Rie's and Talômi's not by any means quieter than the rest. "Magic Mirror" by Leon Russell began to play.

Many people look my way
Many pass me by
In moment of reflection
I wonder why
To the thieves I am a bandit
The mothers think I'm a son
To the preachers I'm a sinner
Lord I'm not the only one
To the sad ones I'm unhappy
The losers think I'm a fool
To the students I'm a teacher
To the teachers I'm in school
To the hobos I'm imprisoned by everything I own
To the soldiers I'm just someone else who's dying to go home
The general sees a number
A politician's tool
To my friends I'm just an equal in this whirlpool
Magic Mirror
Won't you tell me please
Do I find myself in anyone I see
Magic Mirror
If We only could
Try to see ourselves as others would
To policemen I'm suspicious, it's in the way I look
I'm just another character
To fingerprint and book
And the sellers think I'm merchandise
They'll have me for a song
The left ones think I'm right
The right ones think I'm wrong
And many people look my way
Many pass me by
In my quiet refection I wonder why
Magic Mirror
Won't you tell me please
Do I find myself in anyone I see
Magic Mirror
If we only could
Try to see ourselves as others would

[Helkahothion]

Helkahothion stepped up the stage and looked at the crowd.

"Gosh, this came totally unprepared for all of you. I was away yesterday and had no time to prepare any speech, so Ill do it from my heart, because I really hate notes. No offence to anyone intended there." He said shy and stumbling.

"Well, I guess that this is the award I least expected to get. I thought I was going to get one for the most off-topic posts or something. But I am so glad with this one. I feel really honoured. This award has a lot to do with RPGing, so I will start with thanking the lovely Maikadilwen. I remember that I talked to her a while ago. I asked her, newsier as I was, what is an RPG? She had some trouble explaining it to me, since I am a bit slow, but she managed. And I am very thankful for that since most of my posts are in the RPG section. Than came Garen LiLorian. He allowed me to play in my very first RPG: The wolf run. And there I encountered the Warg pack of the lovely Piosenniel for the very first time. It was a rough battle, but we all managed. Along RPGing I got hooked up with some other Downers whom I grew very fond of. I consider them my friends and hope they do to: Durelin, Amanaduial the archer, Aylwen Dreamsong, Lyra Greenleaf, Brinniel, Elentari Greenleaf and Dragoneyes. They are the best you can get when it comes to RPGing. Of course there are the Mods. They have assisted me a great deal. You all know that my first language is Dutch and that I have some problems with the spelling and Grammar. They have always been so nice to point me to such things. Although I got mad at some for that. I apologize for that again. You all mean well I know. Than there is the wickedest guy of them all. The founder of this site. Barrow-Wight. I can't thank him enough for letting this happen. He is quite smart of you see what he has managed here. And a cutie too. If I have forgotten anyone, sorry!!!!! I had no time to prepare. That is not Aman's fault. I was away for personal business. But hey, can't be here all the time right? But I'm babbling again. I got the "Patience is a Virtue" Downie. Well, that really surprised me I must say. Patience is a quality I lack if you ask me. I understand I got it for sparing the Wargs played by Pio. I must say that I have been blessed with he fact that Pio asked that. They reappeared in another RPG, so I had the honour of slaughtering Carchmoroth's pack again. And they will be again. I don't know if they will be so lucky next time. I just tell you Carchmoroth: If I meet you in a dark alley, Ill personally break of your head. And don't think that is a joke! With all respect to Pio of course. Well now, I thank you all for the Award and will certainly be here again next year. Although I don't know if I get another one hahahahaha. Good night you all!!!"

[*Varda*]

Poppy awoke with a sudden start as the crowd cheered for Helkahothion. Applauding with the rest, she blinked blearily and surveyed the room. It looked a little more…chaotic…than when she had gone to sleep. Orcs were still repairing some damage, and she heard some mumbling nearby about Mithadan…and an apple…

Rubbing her eyes, she sat up straight, watching the proceedings on stage.

[Nurumaiel]

Nuru grinned widely and blushed furiously as she stepped up onto the stage to accept her award. She gave Rie and Talômi enthusiastic hugs and went forward to the microphone to make her speech.

"I would like to thank Rie and Talômi for being so kind as to present me with this award," she said, "and I'll try not to make this too lengthy, but there is a little to say!

"I suppose the first thing I'd like to say is that In the Shadow of the Star is by far one of the best RPGs I've ever had the fortune to be in, and I'd like to thank those responible for inviting me to play the roles I currently am playing, as well all who are participating in it.

"Secondly, I'd like to say a few names that deserve recognition: Child of the 7th Age and Piosenniel taught be to be a better writer and RPer through The Long Winter RPG as well as the Dragon. Bethberry also deserves my thanks.

"Manardariel, Eruantalon (who sadly had to leave the Barrow-Downs), Durelin, Sindae, and all the others who played in the first RPG I owned, Hobbit's Gift. Without their help I couldn't have been a successful game owner.

"Orual deserves special thanks for all her help and kind words, and also gracing most of the RPGs I've been in with her presence.

"mark12_30 is also a very special person indeed, though we don't know each other very well. She deserves much thanks for introducing me to the Walk to Rivendell, but also for her wonderful portrayal of Frodo in The Shadow of the Star, nearly bringing tears to my eyes as Frodo returned through her writing.

"I would also like to thank Bekah for her arguements with me concerning Faramir." Knowing that that discussion was rather touchy to some people, she rushed on. "That helped me develop my skills in defending my opinions which in turn got my brain warmed up enough to write Angelica and Peony's scenes during the birth of Pio's twins.

"And, though she doesn't yet belong to the BD forums, thanks goes to my friend Nicrabanwen who had given me her undying support throughout the years, even when I'm the lowest in my writing."

Nurumaiel paused for a moment, then said, "Thank you all and, to be bold and dare say it, God bless," and stepped down from the stage.

[Diamond18]

A paunch middle-aged Hobbit with graying hair entered the auditorium, glancing around suspiciously. She stood in the corner for a little while, observing the shocking blue transformation and departure of Lush. “I thought her purity was a bit put on…” Lousewort Chastitybelt muttered to herself. But she had little time to dwell on the scarlet woman of the Downs, as the poisoning of Mithadan soap opera unfolded upon the stage with numerous subplots. This was all quite shocking to the Hobbit, and she shook her head at the shocking behavior exhibited by even the Mods in this strange place.

Finally, after a while, she caught sight of the person responsible for dragging her to this party. Diamond stood up in her seat and applauded loudly when Estelyn received the Canon Award for the RPG Most Faithful to the Spirit of Tolkien. Diamond, as the woman responsible for such Tolkien-True characters as Pimpiowyn Took (the daughter of a hobbit lass and a man) and Vogonwë Brownbark (the half-elven son of the third cousin of King Thranduil, thrice removed) was thrilled to see the woman who had made this possible, acknowledged with such a prestigious award. A true Patron of the Arts, was Estelyn Telcontar!

Filled with these heady feelings of gratitude and admiration, Diamond leapt up and dropped her beer can as she tried to instigate an impromptu wave for Estelyn, the Parody Queen. Doing thus, she made herself visible to the Hobbit lurking in the corner. Lousewort cautiously made her way over to stand by Diamond’s seat.

“I want to go home!”

Diamond paused and glanced at her. Sighing, she muttered, “Oh, go sulk somewhere else, you wet blanket.”

“You said there would be a donation to the Garden Club in this, and you lied!” Lousewort accused, pointy a pudgy finger at Diamond.

“What do you mean? Didn’t you find the lady in the breastplate?”

“Yes, and I tried to speak with her, but she ignored me completely!” Lousewort complained. “I stood at the bar for hours trying to find out if she had a contribution, but all that got me was being subjected to watching hours of wanton drunkenness!”

“Maybe she didn’t notice you,” Diamond suggested. “Hobbits are awfully small. Perhaps you didn’t speak up loud enough. Now, look over there, in the front row. She’s sitting there with her Hobbit escort. Now would be the best time to approach her.”

Lousewort looked where Diamond pointed, and was about to refuse to comply. But then she considered the great expenses which had been expended to purge the Shire of that flagitious article a few weeks back. Not to mention how much it had cost to arrange the protest outside the Party. The Garden Club was feeling the pinch, and as the Treasurer had resigned recently to start a brothel in the South Farthing (not that the GC would publicly admit this) it was up to Lousewort to take care of funds.

“All right,” she agreed reluctantly. “I will try again.”

She walked up to the front row and sat down next to the odd looking sheildmaiden and the bespectacled Hobbit. She cleared her throat and said, “Um… Excuse me…”

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: Diamond18 ]

[Ithaeliel]

Ith was quickly falling asleep on Brinniel's shoulder as the awards were presented. She had discovered long ago that she did not do well with sitting and listening for long periods of time, and this show, however momentous it was, became no exception. Brinn sat and watched patiently through Helka's acceptance speech, then politely applauded as he went offstage. Ithaeliel opened her tired eyes, gave a few halfhearted claps, and returned to resting on poor Brinniel's left shoulder. "Wake me up when I have to clap again," she mumbled to her pillow before sinking into dreamland.

[The Saucepan Man]

The Saucepan Man was busily attempting to apologise to the Elf whom he had unintentionally floored with his errant cooking pot, but she seemed far more interested in the large Dragon standing before her holding a lap top. Rubbing his eyes, he looked up in time to see a great Eagle swooping erratically over the heads of the audience with another Elven maid clinging on for dear life.

Deciding that he had most definately had enough excitement for one awards ceremony, and noticing that the awards were still being handed out on stage, Saucepan slunk quietly (well, as quietly as he could considering his strange attire) back to his seat at the back of the auditorium and settled down to enjoy the remainder of the show.

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Menelien hadn't been quite asleep, so she had heard all that had gone on, but only now did she really wake up. She jabbed Eladoriel, who was asleep, in the ribs, but she didn't wake up, so she got up and stretched a bit, sighed, and sat back down. My awards presentation is almost ready... she thought.

[Arafangwen]

"I wonder when would be a good time to present my award." Arafangwen thought to herself as returning to her seat from the little adventure concerning the small hobbit who strangly enough, rudely dissapeared after being rescued by the elves and Saucepan Man.

"What happened?" Firondoiel asked.

"Don't ask." she said in reply realizing that Firondoiel was still groggy from recently waking up.

"Guess I'll leave her alone." she thought to herself as Firondoiel rooled back over to return to sleeping.

"I should get ready to go onstage." she thought to herself as she exused herself from her friends which she didn't really need to do considering they were all asleep at the moment.

[Airehiriel]

It was now, at this late stage, that Airehirel decided to make her quiet entrance. She surveyed her surrounds. It looked like a mini battled had taken place in a few locations. There were some attendees that were asleep, and strange songs being played from the stage. She looked around the crowded hall, and tried to find an empty seat. It seemed there were none to be found, so Airehiriel simply walked to the back wall and stood, watching the show.

[mark12_30]

"Hello again, Arafangwen. I'm glad things have settled down a little, " LinGalad sighed with tangible relief and sat beside her. "I can appreciate your friends' weariness; what a baffling ceremony this has been."

"Yes, it has, " Arafangwen replied, standing to leave and go to the stage.

LinGalad, relieved to have no hobbits thrashing about either on his lap or in the auditorium with wolves, smiled happily, and basked in the presence of so many nice, normal elves. Then he redirected his attention to Nurumaiel's acceptance speech. After all the chaos, she was a pleasure to listen to, and LinGalad enjoyed it almost as much as if she had been singing.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Firondoiel]

Firondoiel found it impossible to doze with the loud buzz of conversation all around her. So she gave up trying and stretched. When she glanced at her friends she noticed LinGalad had returned.

"Ah, There you are LinGalad. Where have you been? And where's the hobbits?" Firondoiel asked.

"The hobbits decided they had had enough of the awards ceremony to make a long story short. As for me, that's a long story too." LinGalad replied wearily.

"I see." said Firondoiel for she could think of nothing else to say to that. She turned towards the stage and waited for the next award to be anounced.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: Firondoiel ]

[Lady Alasse]

Thinking that the dragon would probably be able to watch out for itself and the laptop, Alasse had the eagle land and thanked him. Then she made her way back to Nuru to Congratulate her for her award.

[Nurumaiel]

Nuru accepted Alasse's congratulations, then took a deep breath and went back on stage. Before the audible groan could ripple through the audience, the Elf held up her hands and shouted, "I'm finished with my speech!" Smiling pleasantly and reassuringly, she said, "This is a presentation."

There was some laughter and scattered applause. When it had died down Nuru began nervously, making it quite obvious (though unintentionally) that she was having a difficult time.

"It can be rather difficult to take a character of Tolkien's -a character that has already been created and whose personality you must follow carefully- and play him wonderfully throughout all RPGs, at a range of all different ages, starting from perhaps 11 and going on and on. It is a difficult task, but one of us had done it with determination, dedication, and impressed many with how wonderfully she carried out this challenge.

"I'm standing on the stage at this moment to present The Sean Astin Hairy-Foot Award for Faithful Service in a Tolkien-Stretched RPG for Playing Sam Gamgee in Every Possible Configuration Known to Middle-Earth."

Laughter sounded at this long and amusing name, and also some confusion at the challenge of trying to make it out, for Nuru had spoken it quickly.

"I'm pleased to announce that this award goes to..... Orual!!!!!"

There was some silence, as Orual didn't come up on stage. Blushing hugely, Nurumaiel turned to the maestro. "I'm sorry," she said. "The Garden Song, please." Perfect for a Sam award.....

Inch by inch, row by row
Oh, to make this garden grow
All it takes is a rake and a hoe
and a piece of furtile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm and from below
'Till the rain comes tumbling down

Pulling weeds and picking stones
Man is made of dreams and goals
Feel the need to grow my own
'Cause the time is close at hand
Grain for grain, sun and rain
Find my way in nature's chain
Chewing my body and my brain
To the music from the land

Inch by inch, row by row
Oh, to make this garden grow
All it takes is a rake and a hoe
and a piece of furtile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm and from below
'Till the rain comes tumbling down

Planting rows straight and long
Pamper them with care and song
Mother Earth will make you strong
If you give her love and care
An old crow watching hungrily
From his perch in yonder tree
In my garden I'm as free
As that feathered thief up there

And....

Inch by inch, row by row
Oh, to make this garden grow
All it takes is a rake and a hoe
and a piece of furtile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm and from below
'Till the rain comes tumbling down
'Till the rain comes tumbling down

Orual's Post

Standing up from her seat next to Rie and Talômi, a young woman rushed up towards the stage wearing...a Sam costume?

Laughing and crying at the same time, Orual hugged Nurumaiel tightly as she accepted her award. She tucked her brown hair behind her ear as she tried to catch her breath.

"Thank you so much, Nuru. What an award...I may have to practice a while before I can tell people what I won! My first thank-you would have to go to Nuru, for inviting me to play Sam for the first time in The Hobbit's Gift. The idea of playing him as an eleven-year-old was a little intimidating at first, but it turned out splendidly. It was also my first RPG. More than that, you've always been such a good friend to me, Nuru. For that, I thank you more than I can say.

"Thanks to Piosenniel and Child of the 7th Age for inviting me to play In the Shadow of the Star, where I got to play Sam again, after the Quest, with a pack of kids this time, instead of being a kid himself. The opportunity to play with such incredible writers has inspired me. And I don't know how I could play a good Sam without a good Frodo, so I thank mark12_30 and, again, Child of the 7th Age, for playing wonderful Frodos."

She paused and took a deep breath, grinning so as not to cry. "For all of my fellow players, in all of the games that I have been in, my sincerest thanks and high compliments. You are all an inspiration. Thank you!" She blew a dramatic kiss to the crowd and went back to her seat.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[mark12_30]

There was loud applause and much cheering, and many heads nodding in approval across the auditorium. "Bravo!" "Yes!" "Well-written!" were some of the shouts heard over the din. LinGalad looked around hoping to catch a glimpse of the honoree.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Bekah]

After so many things had happened, Narelen still hadn't appeared. No one missed her in the chaos, though.

A still sober, awake, and sitting elf apathetically watched Narelen rush in, look around, and sit down. Narelen indicated furiously to the watching elf and whispered,

"I have some urgent business and cannot be here any longer. I hope to return soon, but I may not. Tell everyone..."

[OOC: Narelen is going to be the future name of my former character Varda Elentari.]

[ May 10, 2003: Message edited by: Bekah ]

[kittiewhirl1677]

During the intermission, Eladoriel had dozed off. She didn't sleep for a day and a half, so the fatigue eventually took over her mind and body. She awoke to the sound of angry wargs and elves and a hobbit running around.

"What's going on?" She asked Menelien, but the elf was apparently still asleep...

Eladoriel soon dozed off as well, thinking that she was in a bad dream... not wanting to experience any of it.

[elven maiden Earwen]

Eärwen had been backstage though most of the Award Show waiting to present her award. Finally it was her turn. She walked out onto the stage smiling and waving.
“Hello Barrow-Downs!!” Eärwen called into the mic.
“Hello!” Many of the audience members called back.
“ As you know the Quiz room is a favorite room for many of the Barrow-downers. They love the fun game you can play that always keeps those brain juices flowing. Whether it’s cryptic, a riddle, or just a question, Barrow-downers have much fun guessing the answer and then posting a riddle in return.” Eärwen said as she launched into her speech.
“But of all these games, one of them stands out from all the rest. Its one of the longest threads in the quiz room, and Middle-Earth’s only game show. It’s one of my favorite games but somehow I always manage to guess the letters, and then find the quote right after someone got it.” Eärwen said as she heard a few laughs and snickers from the audience.
“Of course I’m talking about the Palantir of Fortune!!. But there is one woman who always has a good quote for us to guess and her knowledge of Tolkien is shown in this thread. So with out further ado I would like to present the award for The Barrow Downs Post Design Award’, in the ‘Slash and Dash’ category for the best use non-letter posts in the Quiz Room – Palantir of Death section” Eärwen continued. Cue drum roll.
“to the Gilraën a woman of great talent. Congats to you!” Eärwen called after a long pause.
“Gilraën, Gilraën, Gilraën!!!” the crowd cheered.
Eärwen hoped off the stage smiling as a song came on. To the Tune of “Basketball” by Lil’ Bow Wow, rewritten by Eärwen, now entitled “Palantir of Fortune”


[Chorus]
There playing Palantir
Palantir of Fortune
There playing Palantir
Palantir of Fortune

Yo Palantir of Fortune is my favorite game
I love the way you guess the letters- it’s insane
We keep it so fresh on the forum
I like no interruption when the game is on
I like guessing quotes that take me to the book
My favorite game is this one O’
I like the slash
I like the dash
And its Palantir of Fortune lets go

[Chorus]

I got the keyboard in my hands
There ain’t no tellin what I’m gonna do wit it
When I find the quote I’m gonna have to post it
I might mess up but that’s ok
Turn around and hit you wit the right one right away
I throwin down letters like there’s no end
Taking guesses so fast O”
And I’m keeping you on your feat- O’ yeah
When I’m in the game I play wit style
I’m like so good cuz I can get the quote and beat you in a mile

[Chorus]

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: elven maiden Earwen ]

[Samwise]

Primrose dug her heels into the ground as both Sam and Stacey tried to drag her in the door.

"Papa, WHY do we have to be here? Can't we just go home???"

Sam rolled his eyes. "YOUR UNCLE FRODO asked us to be. " he said firmly, his eyes scanning the room.

Stacey picked Primrose up and set her in Tennyson's lap. "Come on, let's get this over with. " she said, stifling a yawn.

Mimi looked around, then at Stacey, "Rather drab, isn't it? "

Stacey: "Rather have it drab than like last year...."

She followed Sam in search of Frodo and the others.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Glancing behind, the grey-cloaked wizard enveloped in pipeweed smoke mouthed the words "Are you certain the door is barred?" to the stagehand one last time. Then, with a none-too-assured nod, Gandalf strode brightly onto the stage bearing two crinkly scrolls of finest vellum. *

To quote somebody's gaffer, "Hard work always pays off after a time, but laziness pays off right now."

* Unrolling the first scroll: *

"The Procrastinator's Award for Best Performance in an RPG While Avoiding Writing a 2000 word Essay" goes to *Varda*. smilies/smile.gif

And now a bit of Varda's accompanying theme song, "Too Much Time on My Hands" by Styx.

Is it any wonder I've got
Too much time on my hands, it's ticking away with my sanity
I've got too much time on my hands, it's hard to believe such a calamity
I've got too much time on my hands and it's ticking away from me


I only wonder who would have won this award had the essay been 1999 words, or 2001? Seriously, the reason I feel comfortable presenting this gag award is because I can vouch for Varda's dedication and ability when it comes to hard work, as we shared adventure together in the "Castle Maladil" RPG.

* Gandalf bowed, smiling, to present the award, a small gold statue shaped like a king of old. The statue was lined up with others of its kind on a table of green marble. *

* But of course, for some in Middle Earth a barred door proved no obstacle. One of these now stood in a newfound hiding place under the stage. Thus it was that Daerohil thrust his ghostly self up through the oaken hardwood floorboards, laughed like windchimes on the edge of a distant cloud, snatched the statue, and ran himself to hand it to Varda. Since many in the audience were incapable of seeing ghosts, it looked to these baffled onlookers as though Gandalf were by some magic levitating the statue over to Varda! *

* Gandalf, seeing the whole thing down to the smallest detail, smiled relief that the gentle friendly mischief of the ghostly Elf Daerohil went no further. Then, unrolling the second scroll: *

"The Alter Ego Award for Best Supporting Role as a Student While Pursuing Death on the Barrow-Downs" goes to VanimaEdhel. smilies/smile.gif

And now a bit of VanimaEdhel's theme song "Don't Fear the Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult.

All our times have come
Here but now they're gone
Seasons don't fear the reaper
Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain
We can be like they are


And how well VanimaEdhel balances her schoolwork with her many writing projects here at the Barrow Downs! I'm very happy to have personally worked with her in depth in two RPGs ... "On Patrol" and "Castle Maladil."

* Meanwhile, an out-of-place lad named Johnny stood thoroughly oblivious to the Downie Awards ceremony going on around him. Bereft of weapons and treasure, he still had what passed for his wits about him. He'd spent the entire time searching for secret doors, under the logic that none of the obvious doors would lead him back to the university and his waiting calculus exam. At this exact moment, a panel slid with a smooth stone click into a wall, revealing a passageway! *

* But out of this passageway sprang a madly hurtling dark shape, a black mass of legs and snorting. Johnny jumped down to a crouching position and rolled aside just in time. Midnight, the black war steed against which Gandalf had barred the door, surveyed the room with a shake of the mane and a soft pawing of hooves. Many people in the hall held small gold trophies, the horse noticed. Why, even the old grey man was picking one up now. Midnight trotted to the table and sniffed at the statues. Until, that is, he sensed a rider had leaped upon him. Midnight could see no rider, but someone was spurring him on with unseen feet, grabbing his mane to steer. Midnight ran back the way he came, to get outside once more. *

* Gandalf bowed smiling and held out the statue to VanimaEdhel without further ado. *

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

*GaladrielOTO wonders what the heck she's doing at her computer at 2:45 am* Menelien stirred and got up, pushing Eladoriel, who was taking up part of her seat, off, and got up for a short midnight stroll (like me smilies/wink.gif. She walked off into some twisting and turning corridors and quickly got lost. Finally she heard somebody... or a few somebodies. There was an Elf, who Menelien thought was Pio but couldn't tell in the dark, followed by quite a few... others, chasing her and some running after her but not seeming to chase her. Oh, what the hell. I need something to do, so why not? thought Menelien, as she ran after the rest, her long legs itching for the exercise. (You see, Menelien never runs around anymore, spending all her time in front of he computer screen as she is smilies/wink.gif )

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: GaladrieloftheOlden ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan, now bolstered by a cup of wine, again took to the stage and approached the podium. The trophy he held, while similar to the usual Downie design of a tombstone, had an added feature; a quill pen embedded in the top.

"A great part of the Barrow-Downs culture revolves around the study and interpretation of Tolkien's work. This can be found to some extent in every forum, from Books to Mayhem. Yet sometimes a member submerges him or herself so deeply into study and as a result creates a scholarly work so astonishing that it cries out for recognition. We honor one such member today with the Downie for Lifetime Acheivement in Academic Study. This Award goes to Marileangorifurnimaluim for her superb study of Hobbitish cultural behavior entitled 'Hobbit Sex Ed'!"

He clapped loudly as Soft Cell's "Sex Dwarves" began to play...

[Maikadilwen]

An award for someone "special"

[*Varda*]

Poppy blushed furiously as she walked onto the stage, smiling warmly at Gandalf. She accepted the Downie floating over to her, while giggling at the confused faces of the audience. Lowering the microphone a good few inches...well, feet, she turned to face the audience.

"Uh...well, I really wasn't expecting this," she said, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. Clutching her Downie in her small hand, she continued.

"Of course, I could never have done this on my own..I'd just like to thank Gandalf and everyone else on Castle Maladil for helping me to get this Downie by giving me something much better to occupy my time with than the essay, and of course, Mr Barrow Wight himself, for starting this whole thing off. Incidentally, I did manage to get the essay finished, even if at 4am, so a little procrastination never hurt anyone! Thank you!"

Poppy drifted off the stage in a happy dream, all thoughts of her other essays and impending exams firmly placed at the back of her mind.

[gilraën]

Oh elven maiden Earwen I am so touched, I am no writer, rather one who appreciates the words of others and studies them fanatically. This very much being the case with the thread mentioned in this award. It would not even be posssible without the wonderful, and witty I go so far so as to say, responses from the busy participants. Thank you so very much. The biggest thanks of course go to Tolkien who so kindly provided the superb material which we so boldly 'borrowed'.

Thank you all. smilies/smile.gif

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: gilraën ]

[Helkahothion]

As the audience clapped their hands for the last speaker an old man entered the hall. He looked relieved. Travelling by broom was never nice if you had to do long distances. That invincibility charm lasted till here thank god. Dumbledore had been amused by the muggle flying equipment. They had just such a stupid look on their face. But here he was at last. On of the entrance guard stepped up to him.

"Name?"

"Albus Dumbledore. I am here to present an award."

"Ah yes, professor. They have been waiting for you. Especially Bêthberry. She won't be around for some time I heard though."

"Yes, I have gotten that owl. A real shame, but first things first."

Dumbledore stepped to the stage. The steps looked like a mountain. He took out some sort of stick and waved it at the stage.

"Downirus Podia"

The stage lowered and Dumbledore stepped up and waved at the stage again. It immediately went back to its original height.

"Greetings Lord of the ring fans. I have be asked by the guest free Mithadan to give away a very special award. But most of all special is the one that is receiving the award. You might all know her as a mod. I know her as a....... well a mod, but that is not the point. She is a wonderful person. I can see that. She dedicates a lot of time here. I will bet my chocolate frog card collection that she did not expect this award. Well, here it is: The winner of the "The Thesaurus and Dictionary Award for the Member most in Need of Remedial Instruction in Grammar and Spelling." is no other than your very own: Bêthberry!!!" " Play United Forum of Whatever"

I went down to the beach and saw a newcomer
She was, like, all “RGPing iz kool”
And I was, like, “whatever!”

Then this elf comes up to me and she’s all, like,
“He walk up street?”
And I’m, like, “yeah, whatever!”

So later I’m at the pool hall
And this Anuion comes up
And he’s, like, “I was went stabbed”
And I’m, like, “yeah, whatever!”

Cuz this is my
United Forum of Whatever!
And this is my
United Forum of Whatever!
And this is my
United Forum of Whatever!

And then it’s three A.M.
And I’m on the corner, wearing my leather
This dude comes up and he’s, like, “hey, Mod!”
I’m, like, “yeah, whatever!”

Then I’m throwing dice in the alley
Barrow Wight comes up and is, like,
“Hey, check your spelling and...”
And I’m, like, “yeah, whatever!”

And then up comes Helka
I’m, like, “yo, Helka. Checked your spelling?”
He’s, like, “Nope’”
And I’m, like, “that’s cool.”

Cuz this is my
United Forum of Whatever!
And this is my
United Forum of Whatever!


"Thank you Liam. That was nice."

"artista dispareatra"

Artist was gone.

"Enjoy Bêthberry. Now if you will excuse me, I have to sucker punch Voldemort before going to sleep. He is currently hanging from his thumbs in the dungeon. Special request from mister Filch. I did not mind hehehee. Well bye to you all.

"Dumbledorus dispareatra"

*poof*

[The X Phial]

Aroused from her slumber on the wall by thunderous applause at the mention of Bethberry's much deserved award, The X Phly zigged and zagged her way up to the podium. She landed on the microphone and cleared her throat, startled that the sound was so magnified. The less observant attendees were rather shocked as well, The X Phly was difficult to see.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is X and I am not Bethberry."

A puzzled silence met her, they obviously already knew this much. She cleared her throat again.

"Despite my obvious status as not-Bethberry, I have been asked by the illustrious mod to accept this award on her behalf. In her stead I would like to thank the awards committee, her family for their patience, and her well worn dictionary and thesaurus. I would also like to thank the Barrow Wight for the edit and preview functions. So, let's hear a round of applause for Bethberry, currently off helping the River Daughter's Son-in-Law."

With that, The X Phly hoisted the award and drug it offstage. She was helped by her genetically altered half-bee status and a little spell from Dumbledore. Once offstage she took a little rest, exhausted, and hoped no insectavors would trundle past in the mayhem.

[kittiewhirl1677]

Eladoriel awoke to find an old man on the stage. She swore she had seen him before, or knew him in some way... He was waving around a small wooden stick, like a wand. A wand!

"Albus Dumbledore? From Harry Potter? I love those books!"
Eladoriel, after his speech was over, got up and screeched. Nothing in particular, she just screeched. Then, noticing that Menelien was missing she walked off to find her.

"Where have you gotten off to! Menelien... Always disappearing!"

Eladoriel walked through a maze of corridors, rooms, everything. She made sure to mark every room she passed so that she would not get lost. Soon enough, she started hearing some screeching and running a little bit in front of her.

Without even concidering the other posibilities, she just muttered.

"Menelien, what kind of trouble are you getting into now!"
And with that, the young elf ran off to find the source of the footsteps.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman heard Bethberry announced by Helkahothion, along with his rendition of 'Whatever' and laughed at the title of the award. She remembered how Bethberry had first regarded her writing, so long ago it seemed now, and winced. The Rohan mod had seemed less than impressed.

But all differences were aside, had left the forum. Aman stood, even as the music was playing, clapping and cheering wildly for the woman who was certainly one of her moderators.

[Airerûthiel]

Once again Neisa was late. She cursed herself as she sneaked into the awards hall, mumbling apologies as she made her way to the nearest empty seat. It was not in her nature to not be punctual, although she ended up not being on time no matter how much she tried. Perhaps it was the fact that she was surrounded by hundreds of people, and they were all celebrating. There was a reason why she never to parties, she reminded herself as she sat down and tried to look as though she was paying attention to the awards ceremony.

Her mother's memory still haunted her. The shrill tones rang in her head, sending shivers down her spine. "Why can't you be more like a lady? Sit up straight, girl! Don't slouch - it's bad for your posture." A white-hot glare at her back, and the swish of skirts and the wagging finger. "Don't you give me that look. Just because your brother doesn't aspire to anything more than a farmer's life and marriage to a peasant girl" - haughty sniff - "doesn't mean you've got to do what he should instead. Tsk! can't you change out of those disgusting trousers for once and put one of your nice dresses on? Those maids slaved for days to make a wardrobe full of gowns for you, and you've never even so much as looked at them. And don't stuff your hands in your pockets and whistle like the stable boy!..."

The shield-maiden gripped the burgundy arms of her chair, her knuckles whitening. She was clearly angry at everything and everyone - at her mother for making her be who she was not, at her father for giving up on life, at her brother for not having the courage to take over from her father, at society for branding her with the 'be perfect' stick because she was female, and at herself for being weak enough to give into these feelings. Her eyes blazed with a ruby fire that disguised a breaking heart as she waited for the next presenter to take to the stage.

[Marileangorifurnimaluim]

Stunned, Dr Marileangorifurnimaluim turned to face the conservatively dressed hobbit lady with the blue hair who had tapped her shoulder.

"Donation...?" Aside from the fact this was the head of the Garden Club which hadn't liked her article at all, Maril couldn't help but think of all the Elvish grants she lived off of... just barely. Her last one had run out, and she was reapplying for next year. She did have an advance on her next book, but that hardly covered --

Suddenly she heard strains of 'Sex Dwarves', and the craggy face of Mrs Chastitybelt in front of her froze in a rictus of pure horror. Maril realised it was suddenly rather bright in here and raised her arm to block off the spotlight.

Spotlight?

There was clapping all around her and she couldn't make any sense of it. Trenton jumped up and down behind her, and yelled, "You won! You won! Hahahahahahaha! That'll teach 'em!"

The doctor turned towards the stage, and dimly recognized that Mithadan held out a golden tombstone to her...

... really? Me? But I've hardly been around and it was just a little article really... Trenton gave her a shove towards the stage.

The microphone squealed as it was adjusted to accomodate her hobbit-stature.

"Um. This is rather unexpected." Maril shoved her glasses up the bridge of her nose and began in her dry, lecturer's voice.

The crowd stiffened. The tone of voice promised a dreary, dull acceptance speech. The scroll that fell out of her hands and unfurled into the orchestra did not bode well either.

"First I'd like to say, on behalf of all those in Books, that we tirelessly argue for canonical purity, and it is rare our scholarly efforts are ever recognized or even make much of an impression..."

BOOOM! Outside there was loud explosion. Clearly the Garden Club had got wind of the award and were ramping up their protest.

"...although, um, this may something of an exception. Ahem. So, ah, I accept this award on behalf of all those scholars in Books, Mr Underhill.."

The main doors began rattling dangerously, the crowd outside hammered in fury at this award. Dr Marileangorifurnimaluim glanced up nervously.

"...oh heck, you know who you are... thank you very much, gotta run --" The doctor bolted off the stage.

Breathing a collective sigh of relief, the crowd exploded with joyous clapping.

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ]

[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

Squatter was weak from excessive laughter and his palms were red from much clapping. He had done his best to encourage Vogonwë and Pimpiowyn in their hideous caterwauling by shouting encouragement and calling 'encore!' at the top of his voice at the end of their act, and he had applauded Mithadan's near-fatal collapse as a masterful touch of gallows humour so very apt at this fête macabre. The later re-appearance of Number Four merely confirmed his erroneous conclusion and convinced him that the grey figure was half cut, which elicited yet more applause.

As the lupine chaos in the hall drew to its crescendo, Squatter's laughter had become more of an obstruction to his breathing, to the extent that only a timely swig of Captain Strangereek’s 'Harvest Haemorrhage' and Lush’s rather stylish exit had saved him from asphyxiation. At that moment, as he tried desperately to say his farewells between uncontrollable spasms of mirth, he heard a respectful cough by his shoulder.

Squatter was used to that sort of cough. It was usually followed by phrases like “Don’t you think it’s time you were going home, Sir?” and short, unceremonious trips to the door; but this time it was far, far worse.

'Could you step this way, Sir?' said the official. 'It’s almost time for you to make your presentation.'

'There must be some mistake: I'm not making a presentation' replied Squatter with a feeling of unholy dread.

'I'm afraid we have you down to make one, Sir,' said the attendant inexorably. 'Unless you'd care to take it up with Mr. Mithadan.'

The cold feeling of utter panic that swept over Squatter was better than a pint of black coffee and three cold showers. He rose and followed this harbinger of doom backstage, where he was given, predictably, a pint of black coffee and a bucket of cold water. Once he had made use of these he was given a clean shirt, a gold envelope and a razor and told to be ready in ten minutes. What had happened to his evening?

*****

In the auditorium the applause for Bêthberry's award, some of it no doubt increased by the X-Phial's Homeric achievement in carrying it from the stage at all, was just dying away as the master of ceremonies made his way to the front of the stage. 'And now, Ladies and Gentlemen,' he intoned. 'To present the William McGonagall (http://www.rampantscotland.com/poetry/blpoems_taywhale.htm) Memorial Award for the Fit-est Poetic Achievement in an RPG, The Squatter of Amon Rûdh!'

A lone figure entered from the wings (some might almost think he had been pushed). He strode to the podium in a businesslike manner, adjusted the microphone and spake thusly:

'In any Roleplay game based on the works of J.R.R. Tolkien, the standard of its poetry often can make the difference between a profound tribute to a great author and a steaming trough of pigswill.'

There were a number of groans from the audience, but he soldiered on.

'This year, one person has on several occasions awed us all with verse that can only be described as 'unique'. The award for the Fit-est Poetic Achievement in an RPG, in recognition of her performances as Vogonwë Brownbark in The Revenge of the Entish Bow, goes to Diamond 18!'

At that moment the orchestra struck up the theme tune of Murder, She Wrote and all eyes turned to look for its recipient, on whom three spotlights had now converged.

[Diamond18]

The spotlights hit Diamond like the headlights of a three ton eighteen wheeler barreling down the highway in the wrong lane, and she gasped involuntarily as the light from her necklaces bounced up into her eyes. Painfully. A torrent of emotions hit her like a ton of cement blocks and a smidgen of cinnamon (for flavor). An award, for me? she thought, blushing.

When Squatter had taken the stage with such undeniably confident and manly grace, she had not so much as suspected that the reason was for her Own ‘Umble Heepness. (Furthermore, she doubted that many would catch the David Copperfield reference without help, so she provided it, thusly.) But, when the phrase “steaming trough of pigswill” was uttered, there could be no doubt in her mind that this had something to do with her guilty person.

She stood, squinting her eyes in the magnificently maleficent lights, not sure whether she should feel like a movie star, or a prison escapee caught by floodlights. In either case, she made her way up to the stage and graciously accepted the award from Squatter. She gave him an affectionate kiss on the cheek. This was, of course, a completely pure and ladylike kiss—sisterly in nature, so as not to inspire the absent but all knowing Lush to a frenzy of jealous rage. People on magic carpet rides are not to be trifled with. Diamond noted that a strong odor of java and juice clung to Squatter, but hey, what’s a little reeking among friends?

She turned to the audience and held aloft her Golden Tomb of Doom. “I’d like to thank the Wraithadamy,” she said. “And also, Estelyn Telcontar, for making this possible by not taking ‘no’ for an answer; Rimbaud, whose puns inspired me to badness; Squatter, for his endless, um, dubious flattery and lovely presentation speech; Lush, for noticing my innuendo when I didn’t; Bêthberry, for her awesome alliteration, which also inspired my aspirations; Everyone else who graced the Revenge of the Entish Bow with their writing or readership; and Daffy Duck, just because.”

She paused and took a deep breath. “And lastly, but certainly not least, I’d like to thank Vogonwë Brownbark for being so tremendously awful and prolific. Voggy, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

On cue (not to mention that his status as a character made him subject to the beck and call of his mistress) Vogonwë bounded up onto the stage, doing a backward inverted pas de chat over the stair railing. He stopped before Diamond and adjusted his hairbow, gushing, “Thank you, thank you! It is true, I thank you! I thank you for being true!”

“Um…” Diamond got a dreadful sense of déjà vu, and began to feel a little faint. Vogonwë continued:

“I’d like to thank my father for teaching me how to rhyme. I’d like to thank Earnur Etceteron for being my biggest fan: the man was truly a connoisseur of fine Workmudian poetry, in a way that not even the Elves of Workmud were, themselves. I think, a poem is in—”

He was unceremoniously cut off by Diamond, who utilized her award as a silencer, clobbering him over the head with the blunt end of the Downie. He crumpled (gracefully) to the floor, an expression of utter inanity gracing his finely wrought half-Elven features.

Diamond blew kisses to the crowd, and bowed before returning to her seat.

[ May 08, 2003: Message edited by: Diamond18 ]

[Arafangwen]

Arafangwen nervously walked to the rear stage entrance.

"What is your buisness?" asked a particularly mean looking orc.

"I'm to present an award tonight, my name is Arafangwen." she said as calmly as she could, she had never been confronted by an orc before.

"I see you're on the list, go on in." he said with a grunt.

Arafangwen walked up the stairs and through the seemingly endless hallway until she finaly reached the crowd waiting in the wings.

"I'm ready to present my award now." she said timidly to Mithadan. He nodded, so she decided that it meant yes and proceded to smooth her dress and walk out onto the overwhelmingly large stage.

"Hello Barrow Downers!" she said with mirth in her voice.
"Hello!" came the responce from a third of the crowd or so, the rest were sure to be asleep.

"Tonight I have a very special award to present." she said trying not to sound to silly, she had never spoken on stage before and was so nervous that she was almost giggling.

"No adue will be made as I'm no good at that sort of stuff anyways. So, The Wierdest Taste Award for Adoration of Denethor and Wormtongue goes to, drumroll please!" she said with a smile, wanting the anticipation to grow.

"Meela!" she announced with a smile as polka music started plating in the background, the crowd erupted with cheers and whoops, even though the award was a strange one.

"Unfortunatly, she couldn't be here, so here to accept this award for her is, Denethor!" she cried out once more, happy that she hadn't made a fool of herself as Denethor ran up to the stage to accept the award and dash off with a smile. Smiling, Arafangwen walked off the stage and back into the wings, then proceded to return to her seat by Firondoiel and LinGalad with a sigh of relife.

[Samwise]

After much searching, the group still could not find where Frodo and the others were seated, so they took an unused group of seats in the back.

"Papa, why do we have to stay here?" Primrose asked, yawning without trying to hide it.

Stacey was inclined to agree, as they couldn't find Frodo and the others anyway, and why should they put themselves through this any longer....

"Because your uncle asked us to." Sam said stoutly. "We're not leavin' 'til we find him an' th' others or this thing is over. "

Stacey leaned over and whispered in Primrose's ear. "Don't worry, we'll leave when the time is right; humor your dad. Besides, you wouldn't want to upset your Uncle Frodo, would you? "

The hobbit girl sighed, then shook her head.

Stacey looked over at Tennyson and Mimi, who had fallen asleep on each other's shoulders. She grinned, glad she had brought her camera. "

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Samwise ]

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Menelien was still running. She thought she heard Eladoriel's voice behind her now, calling her. Why does that girl think it is her duty to act like a strict mother? she wondered, quickening her pace. In front of her, Pio and the people after her were still moving too, though they sounded to be tiring. She thought she heard wolf-feet... She kept running, finally catching view of the last one running, a girl, she thought. She put on an extra burst of speed, she was catching up... and then she tripped on something lying on the floor (a familiar experience...) fell, knocking down the girl in front of her as well, and as Eladoriel rounded the corner she fell into the heap as well. Get off... was the only thing Menelien could think just about then.

[Firondoiel]

Firondoiel enthusiastically applauded the winners then watched with great interest as her friend, Arafangwen presented an award. When Denethor came down the aisle to recieve it she leaned over to LinGalad.

"We better keep a close eye on him." Firondoiel whispered.

"Don't worry. He had to surrender weapons at the door." LinGalad reassured.

"It's not weapons I'm worried about! It's matches." Firondoiel hissed back.

"Firondoiel, for him, matches count as weapons." LinGalad said.

"Oh, good point." Firondoiel leaned back feeling relieved.

Arafangwen finally made it back to them and took her seat."You did good." Firondoiel said.

"You think so?" Arafangwen asked.

"I know so!" Firondoiel grinned.

Arafangwen smiled back and they both turned back towards the stage.

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Firondoiel ]

[Salix]

Salix crept into the room and found a seat at the back. She had been a bit busy ever since Friday, and now had no clue what was going on. She sat quietly awaiting the next award.

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Salix ]

[Marileangorifurnimaluim]

"Breaking news, we are taking you to the Downie awards, where the head of the conservative Garden Club has been arrested..."

Returning to an earlier moment in the Downie Awards:

"You!"

The hobbitish voice was shrill, and pierced the crowd. The voice could stop a riot. Heck, it could probably shatter glass. The doctor paused in her flight, blinking.

"How dare you speak of canonic- canin- caninical pure anything with the filth that you have spread about our beloved Shire!" The voice rose, and the crowd winced. "And corrupting young hobbits like my nephew here!"

Lousewort Chastitybelt caught the arm of Dr Maril's date.

"Come, Trenton, we're leaving."

Trenton chortled, and shook off her hand with a lazy flick of his wrist. "Auntie. Just who do you think that article was about?"

Cuts away to image of Mrs Louswort Chastitybelt lunging at the stage as the Uruk-hai haul her away:

"This is your fault, you - you doctor! You did this to him! You corrupted him with your filthy writing! I will not cease in my efforts --!"

Cuts away to newscasters:

"Bail has been set at 100,000 gold standard."

Anchorman flashes a perfect smile at the camera.

"So, Harold, what kind of weather can we expect for the weekend?"

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ]

[Marileangorifurnimaluim]

Edit: Shoot, Diamond, we're going to have to coordinate this better. LOL! PM me.

-Maril

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ]

[Samwise]

Primrose sat in her seat and yawned loudly; which wasn't very ladylike, but then, Primrose was hardly ever ladylike.

Sam turned three different shades of red.

Stacey grabbed Prim's hand. "Prim, grab your bow. I'll take you outside to shoot at...well, something. Tell us, Sam, if you ever run into Frodo."

Sam nodded, though he looked as if he were about to fall asleep, too.

Stacey left the building with Primrose, who immideately ran for the trees.

What are we doing here, anyway? Stacey wondered. Not only is this as boring as all get-out, but we're being ignored on top of it. Oh, well....I hope it's over, soon....PLEASE don't let this be as long as last year's party......

She sighed heavily and headed after Primrose.

[Morai]

Morai had long since entered the ceremony, Harlon dragging the computer over all the seats. Seated in the back, hoping not to be noticed, they set up the machinery. Attendees of the Downies often found themselves tripping over the phone cord. Harlon continuously shouting apologies:

"Sorry! We're too poor, so we have a dial-up service! Sorry!"

The girl was busy with school work, home work, and endless nothiness of her life. Morai paused in between math problems to cheer for those she knew. Finally when Aylwen Dreamson recieved her Downie, Morai jumped up, throwing the Compaq from her lap.Darn it all! I really need a laptop!
Harlon helped her piece it back together as he related the latest events of the Downie Awards.

"Really! Mithandan out cold? Figures, that guy probably passed out of exaughstion. Geeze all those lazy RPGers giving him a hard time, tis no surprise to me!" Morai ranted.

"No...somebody gave him a golden apple award that poision him, most likely a sleep drug."
Harlon replied.

"Ha! I still say it's from working too hard!"

Harlon Nowane rolled his eyes. He wondered if there was a award for "most unusual character in a RPG" and, if he was considered.

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Morai ]

[Samwise]

Sam stood up on his chair and scanned the crowd for Frodo, but there still seemed to be no sign of him, Elrond, Cromthal, or Isildae. He sighed.

"Oh, well. Guess bein' bored an' lonely's better 'n' bein' a snack for a couple o' Orcs." he said to himself, sitting back down.

[kittiewhirl1677]

What in the world... Eladoriel thought, rubbing the sores all over her body. She was in a heap with Menelien and another girl.

"Menelien, where are you off to? I woke up and you were gone, so I started wondering what exciting trouble you got yourself into this time. So I ended up following you here. But what is going on here?"

"Dunno. I just woke up and went for a stroll. Then I heard running, and started running too..."

Rubbing her sores, Eladoriel stood up and looked down at the unconscious girl. They had hit the girl pretty hard, wacked her alomst. She was at the bottom of the heap.

"So what do we do now?" Eladoriel asked Menelien, tapping her foot impatiently.

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

"God, El, haven't you knocked out enough people by now to know what to do?" Seeing Eladoriel's uncomprehending look, Menelien said quickly "scratch that. Make sure she isn't too badly hurt, find a couch, somewhere, put her ono it, leave her. She'll come 'round soon enough. If she is badly hurt, you'll take her with you." "But... how about you?" "Oh... I have to get ready to present the award I have to" Menelien lied quickly. She didn't need to get ready... she'd do it spontaneously... she dashed off, leaving a slightly helpless looking Eladoriel with the unconsious girl.

[Frodo Baggins]

Cromthal sat bored out of his mind, plucking idly at his harp, he looked up for a moment and saw Sam. He stood up on a chair and waved like a maniac.


"SAM! SAm over here!! Where's the other's?

Frodo yawned cavernously "hmm a bit drab hm, Sam? Where's Primmy?"

[kittiewhirl1677]

"Menelien! What in the world?"

But the elf was gone, leaving Eladoriel all alone with the unconscious girl. She dragged her to a nearby resting room, and put her on the couch. Then she went to the refreshment table and got some water. She brought it back and started pouring it on the girl's face.

She slowly began to regain consciousness. She groaned, and started talking.

[Airehiriel]

Airehiriel had started to doze in the back of the hall, but when she heard the award for Meela she jumped up and clapped with joy. She'd known Meela for a few months, and knew that no one could escape her love of Grima and Denethor. She was so excited for her friend, she jumped up and down clapping with a broad smile on her face. Unfortunately, on her last jump, she didn't land correctly on her heels, and fell over.
She looked around making sure no one had seen that embarrasing display.

"Stupid shoes!" she said to herself. Then she took both of them off, and threw them out an open door.

"Much better." she thought. Just then an Orc walked in rubbing it's head and carrying one of her shoes. Her eyes widened with fear. She slide down the wall, and covered up her feet with her dress.

The Orc looked at her. "Is this yours?" He asked with a snarl.

A fake look of shock appeared on her face. She shook her head no.

"I think it came from over there." She said, waving in no specific direction. "I saw it fly by a minute ago."

The Orc took one look at the assembled crowd, growled and shrugged his shoulders. When he went out through the door, Airehiriel breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was close! What a clutz." She said as she settled in for more of the show.

[Samwise]

Sam nudged Tennyson. "Lad, I see Mr. Frodo, could you please go an' get Miss Stacey an' Tiny Rose? "

Tennyson nodded and whirred outside.

Mimi and Sam went to the table with the others. "It's almost impossible t' find anyone in here. " he said, gratefully sitting down next to his friend.

[kittiewhirl1677]

The girl started coming around, and Eladoriel shook her to fully awaken her.

"What is this place? I was just running and..."

"What were you doing? Why were you running?"

"I was running after-"

She was about to say who, but then the door burst open. A big warg came in, and growled at the girls.

"I think we'd better run..." Eladoriel said.

Nodding, the other girl jumped up from the couch and they headed for a door on the other side of the room. The warg ran after them, but they managed to open the door in time and shut it with a bang. They stood on the other side, panting.

"Close one..." The girl said.

"Tell me 'bout it..." Eladoriel said.

"We'd better keep running. There's no telling how many wargs may be on the loose, just waiting to run into live flesh..."

Eladoriel nodded, and they quickly exited through another door.

"Smells like... smells like rotting flesh out here! Eew!" Eladoriel told the other girl, sniffing, then pinching her nose in disgust.

They rounded a corner, and found an elf with a bleeding arm on the floor.

"Wha...?" The girl began.

The elf looked up and said, "Help me. I need to stand."
Eladoriel and the girl slowly lifted her up.
"A warg just jumped at me out of nowhere..."
The girl continued.

Suddenly, Eladoriel heard a sound of many feet running in their direction.

"That must be the people I heard running before... They might be able to help. They're the ones Menelien went running with."

The other two nodded. Eladoriel and the girl helped the elf get to one side of the hallway, so that she wouldn't get trampled. The other two stood in the middle of the hall, staring ahead.

It was the stupidest thing they could have done. Soon enough, the crowd of runners came at them at a breakneck speed, unable to stop. The first runners collided with the two girls, starting a chain reaction in which everyone behind the front runners crashed too.

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Menelien walked onto the stage, running her hand through her hair and smoothing her dress, breathing heavily. She walked towards the microphone, forcing her panting mouth into a shape remotely resembling a smile. “I... I have the honor... of... of presenting to you... another award,” she forced out, scolding herself inwardly I should have gotten ready for this beforehand! This won’t do at all! Menelien composed herself, forcing the next words to come out evenly, without (too much of) a pause between them. “You all know, we all know, that there are many wonderful people out here on the Barrow Downs. Many of them spend their time starting fads. But there are few fads that spread all over the Downs until almost every single fan knows them. The award I am here to present is to the inventors of one of these.” Menelien uncrumpled a piece of paper in her hand, and read: “The Award for best blend of Disco, Bandwidth, and the hunka-hunka Boromir in Middle-earth Mayhem - Make your Own Crazy Scene With Pics section goes to Airehiriel, Rynoah, and Oddwen!” The roar of the cloud at that was deafening. Menelien suspected that the skin on their hands would not feel good when they went back home. “The Best Disco in Town” boomed from the loudspeakers as the trio walked up. She handed them their Denethor Bobblehead statuettes, supressed a giggle at their faces, a bit surprised at the rather strange trophies, and walked off stage.
It’s the best disco in town, number one in disco sound
It’s the place where hip people meet, hey, hey
It’s the best disco in town, bump and boogie all around
It’s no place to sit in your seat, hey, hey

DJ’s are the best there, you’ll never get a rest there
You may meet the right girl or guy
When they play the right groove your body makes the next move
Get up on the floor and get down to see that the music can take you high

It’s the best disco in town, funky music pound for pound
Join the crowd, come on dance and sing, hey, hey
It’s the best disco in town, people come from miles around
It’s the place to do your own thing, hey, hey...
Menelien listened attentively from backstage as the three girls read off their acceptance speeches. First Airehiriel, then Rynoah, then Oddwen...

Airihiriel’s Post
Airehiriel heard her name being called and she stood up in shock and surprise. She walked down an aisle way with a broad smile on her face. Unfortunately she failed to notice a stray leg sticking out in the aisle way. She tripped over it, and with embarassement picked herself up and patted the leg.
"Sorry!" She said to the owner of the leg.

She continued on the long trek through the hall and walked up the stairs. She hoped the Orc who was hit with her shoe wasn't looking right now. She smiled at Menelien and lovingly took her award.
"I can't believe it!" She said staring at the assembled group. "Thank you so much!"
She smiled as those who were awake finished clapping for her.
"I was inspiried to make Crazy Scenes with Pics on the Crazy Captions thread. I really made it for my own amusement. I had no idea it would turn out to be such a hit!
"I would like to thank all my partners in crime...uh, I mean, laughter. Unfortunately there are so many! I would like to mention a few though. Thank you Rynoah, for starting the whole Disco King craze! Who can forget the contest and all the insanity that ensued. I would also like to thank Oddwen, not only does she post a bunch of great stuff, but she is the orginator of the now famous, or infamous, DO THE WAVE!"
Airehiriel proceed to lead the group in a few waves for the Disco King.
"I'd also like to thank the Barrow Wight for putting up with my inability to read some things all the way through! Sorry!" She said with a sheepish smile.
"Thank you to all who have participated in this thread. There are several of you, and you know who you are. I just wish I had time to name you all! I love all that you do, and all the encouraging laughs that we get from some who don't post scenes, but do enjoy their visit. Stop by some time if you haven't been there. It's in Middle Earth Mayhem. My favorite haunt.
"Once again, I'd just like to thank you all!"

(Back to Menelien’s Perspective)
Next, Rynoah began to speak: "I'd like to thank the Academy, John Travolta for jumping in my head, Ninecompanions.net for the pictures and Oddwen for picking up the whole disco trend. This award is dedicated to Boromir; without you and your exceptional groove, none of this would be possible! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
... and DO THE WAVE for Boromir the Disco King! For Gondor, James!”
Menelien who was beginning to get a bit bored, snorted the beer she had been drinking backstage from her nose in a most un-ladylike manner at the last line, then composed herself when she realized she was beginning to get evil looks from everyone around her. And last, Oddwen: -"I'd like to thank my Dad for giving me his wacked out sense of humor; my Mom for letting me stay online for hours at a time; my siblings Tweak and Pookie for their encouragement; Rynoah the Overly Happy for her inspiration; Airehiriel for starting the thread, and all the Downers who posted on the thread. And especial thanks to the great, mighty, wonderous Barrow-Wight for creating this site.”
Menelien thought she saw the green cloudy figure in the top box move slightly, looking down. She walked out from backstage by the back exit and made her way towards her seat, sucessfully avoiding Eladoriel, and started in on one of her best imitations of sleep.

[Arafangwen]

Arafangwen jumped out of her chair and cheered as random shouts of "Do the wave for Boromir the disco king!" erupted throughout the room (she of course joined in all of the passing waves) for the award was justly given and recieved.

"Menelien, you were great!" Arafangwen said as Menelien returned to her seat nearby.

"Sure I was." Menelien said sarcasticly as she rolled her eyes and tried her best to pretended she was going to sleep.

"Of course you were!" Arafangwen replied as the other elf rolled over in her chair and attempted to look asleep. This did not fool Arafangwen though, for she was the master of fake sleeping(she had been able to fool every single person she knew from the time she was six(she didn't remember much before that)). She decided to leave her alone though, knowing that when someone did that, they usualy wanted to be alone and think for awhile.

"I wonder where LinGalad and Firondoiel disapeared to." she thought to herself realizing she was once again alone, besides the sleepers all around her.

[ May 08, 2003: Message edited by: Arafangwen ]

[Firondoiel]

Firondoiel was on her way back from the little girls room when she heard the award anounced. She cheered and did the wave along with the rest of the audience. Those that were still conscious that is.

"I wonder where LinGalad and Firondoiel have disapeared too." she heard Arafangwen say as she approached from behind. She tapped her friend on the shoulder.

"Boo!" She said as Arafangwen whirled around.

"There you are! Where have you been?" Arafangwen asked.

"Oh no where really." Firondoiel replied. "You did a good job up there Menelien!" she said to her other elven friend.

"Yeah, if you say so." Menelien said dryly.

Firondoiel excused herself and went to congratulate Airehiriel, Rynoah, and Oddwen.

[ May 08, 2003: Message edited by: Firondoiel ]

[Samwise]

Stacey came back from the bar, managing to have found a carafe in which she could put coffee.

"Well, at least we've got each other." she said, listening to several of the attendee's
snores, which included half of their table.

Primrose chuckled. "You should hear Papa snore. It sounds something like this room right now. "

Sam frowned. "Primrose! "

Stacey tried to hold back a chuckle--she did remember hearing something once about Sam snoring contently--'if a log could be content....' she poured herself some coffee and started drinking it before she could laugh too hard.

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Menelien sighed and rolled over, answering Arafangwen and Firondoiel's comments with half-closed eyes. Then she really began to drift off, hoping somebody would wake her up soon, or else her sleep patters would get even more disrupted. (I don't know what I could mean by 'even more', as I already fall asleep at 4:30 in the morning, come to school at 12, and basically sleep through the rest of it smilies/rolleyes.gif , and Arafangwen, believe me, I am also great at fake sleeping... smilies/tongue.gif )

[HerenIstarion]

'She left' H-I was reflecting sadly, 'what the point of duelling with Squatter than? Still more I never intended to harm him, and, of course, never wished to be harmed myself, all with his swordsman skills. He looks shaved, do they have barber's backstage? I would like to have on myself'

[ May 10, 2003: Message edited by: HerenIstarion ]

[Morai]

Morai's monotonous keyboard tapping was interupted by the "waves". She laughed to herself as she watched the whole auditorium erupt, including her date. Not a single drop of alcohol in her, Morai was fully awake. (Except the drained-brain from science and math tests)

Sudenenly Morai's stomach growled loudly. Pulling Harlon back into his seat, she put the computer into his lap and "stomped" off. To hold her balance, Morai grabbed the seats in front of her as she went along.

Finally inside the cafe, Morai saw a Snack Shack. At first glance, it appeared empty. As she neared the shack, Morai noticed a hobbit behind the counter.

"Um, greetings. Do ya have any power bars?" Morai asked.

"Yeah, what flavor? We have Lembas, flamin' barlog, rich-in-chocolate-dragon, and vanilla mithril." The hobbit replied.

" I'll have the chocolate one, thanks."
Morai clomped back to her seat. Before reaching her destination, Morai tripped over her own phone cord....

[Samwise]

Stacey glanced backward when she heard a THUD. She saw a man with a laptop sitting in the back, looking distressed.

Thankful for a chance to stretch, she got up and walked back to the row. She saw a woman sprawled on the floor. "Are you okay?" Stacey asked, offering her hand.

First the one that ran into the wall, now this. Good thing I took a First Aid refresher course a couple of weeks ago......

[Morai]

Morai looked up and found a hobbit offering her hand. With Morai's large platform boots, Stacey found it difficult to pull the young woman off the floor. After one last heave, Morai stood up.

"Hi, my names Morai, thanks for helping me up." Pointing over to Harlon, she said, "And that's Harlon Nowane, the best fool ever to cartweel into the Downs."

[VanimaEdhel]

Lanthiriel (VanimaEdhel in disguise) ran into the room, blushing a bit.

"I apologize," she said quickly, "For not being here! I have not really been balancing school and Role-Playing all that well as of late, what with softball games and 'The Laramie Project' rehearsals."

Lanthiriel ran up to the podium and looked in awe at the Downie.

"And I was prepared to spend a nice evening applauding for others," she muttered to herself.

She took her Downie and ran off the stage, not wanting to steal the spotlight from other more-deserving winners of the award. She jumped down from the stage and hugged her date, in the form of Ransom.

[Samwise]

Stacey nodded to the man with the laptop. "Hello."

She smiled back at Morai. "The majority of my party's asleep, I'm afraid." she looked at the laptop. "Should have known I'd need to bring something to do. Oh, well, live and learn. "

[Firondoiel]

After Firondoiel heartily congratulated the winners she started back towards her seat. On her way she noticed The Phantom in the crowd. All of sudden she stopped short and her face held a puzzled look. Why don’t I feel like I used to? She thought as she finally continued on. “What’s wrong Firondoiel?” asked Arafangwen when she reached her friends.

“I just realized something, I…” Firondoiel trailed off.

“Yes?” Arafangwen prompted.

“I don’t feel certain feelings that I once did towards a certain someone.” Firondoiel said hesitantly.

“Oh?” Arafangwen raised her eyebrows and glanced towards The Phantom.

“I think I just had a…um, “schoolgirl crush” you might say.” Firondoiel said with her cheeks reddening.

“Don’t be embarrassed. You’re over it now right?” Arafangwen asked.

“Yeah. But I’ve made a fool of myself haven’t I?” Firondoiel asked.

Arafangwen shook her head. “No. Don’t worry about it”

“All right.” Firondoiel sighed with relief and settled into her chair.

[kittiewhirl1677]

Eladoriel picked herself up. She had banged her head very hard against a wall, and she couldn't think straight any longer. Ignoring the pile of struggling bodies below her, she walked off and back to the hall. There, she found her friends and sat back down, only to realize that Menelien was still missing. Just as she was about to get up to look around, she saw her on stage.

Eladoriel smiled, remembering the speech Menelien was going to present. When the speech was over and the award-winners had spoken, the elf had joined them all in doing the wave for Boromir the Disco King.

Menelien was back down soon enough, falling asleep.

"Hey, Menelien that was great. And sorry I was following you around so much. After that chandelier incident, I got kinda creeped that you would kill yourself..."

Menelien sleepily shrugged, and added a silent "Mm. Whateva. Okay."
Eladoriel soon closed her eyes and began slowly to drift off to sleep(well, only for the short pause between the award presenters), forgetting about everything...

[Samwise]

Sam reached over and nudged the sleeping Frodo. "Sir? Sir, wake up. You're missin' folks gettin' their awards an' all. "

The elder Hobbit murmured, but did not move.

[The Saucepan Man]

The Saucepan man clapped, rattled and clinked enthusiastically as Airehiriel, Rynoah, and Oddwen received their awards, proudly remembering his own contribution to their disco dance antics and letting out a chuckle as he recalled Gandalf's Stop in the Name of Love routine.

As the inevitable *WAVE* rippled through the audience in Mexican fashion, Saucepan of course joined in with a great clattering and clanking, before settling back down into his seat.

[Helkahothion]

Helkahothion looked around. There was nothing going on at the moment. No downies. No party.

"Might as well go to sleep"

Helkahothion closed his eyes and snored loudly. Dumbledore zapped him once or twice, but he did not care.

[ May 09, 2003: Message edited by: Helkahothion ]

[Tarien Ithil]

Tarien smiled as she watched Rynoah and the others go up to recieve their awards.

She was new to the Downs, but hoped that someday, she'd go up and get an award, whatever it may be for. She smoothed her shimmering dress and popped a flake of lembas in her mouth and clapped loudly.

[Diamond18]

Diamond once again left her seat, and slunk backstage. A few minutes later she reappeared, bearing three Golden Tombstones—one in each hand and the third balanced atop her head. She carefully walked up to the microphone and announced, “Do not go to sleep! You know who you are out there, snoring, drooling, dreaming! The best is yet to come, so sit up and assume the proper posture for attentiveness.”

She paused a moment to allow the audience to comply, or not comply as was sometimes the case, and then continued:

“In the various RPGs that grace this forum, many people do wild and crazy things through their characters. But there is one estimable member of our estimable group, who has thrown aside all things vicarious in favor of real adventures in real places at real times during real nights…

“Therefore, it is now my utmost pleasure to present the Mary Shelley Award for Dubious Yet Manly Actions After-hours in a Fenced-Off Cemetery to The one, The only, Squatter of Amon Rûdh!”

Diamond would have clapped for the recipient, except that her hands were full. She contented herself with smiling somewhat stiffly (wouldn’t want to move the head too much, now) out at the crowd while they thundered their approval. As the audience’s applause died down, she said, “As you can see, I have more awards to give, so don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily.

“Continuing on: we all know that many of our members are tremendously fond of word play and literary jokes. There is one member who, time and again, has demonstrated amazing self-restraint in avoiding any activity that presumes to poke fun at the English language. Therefore, this second Tombstone is the well-earned property of said member, and it is my further pleasure to present the Punwraith Association’s Two Cents Award for Significant Lifetime Achievement in Eschewing Lower Forms of Humour to Rimbaud!”

Ditto paragraph 5.

“Next, I would like to present this award here atop my head, (and this will be by far my greatest pleasure yet, as it’s rather heavy) to a member I have known as one of the most altruistic dwarves to grace a roleplay. Furthermore, he has shown himself to be very fond of numbers, and a master of subtle sound effects. This award, however, has nothing to do with any of those things, so one might wonder why I mentioned it. I felt like it, so there.

“It is my pleasure, as I have already mentioned, to present the Cecil B. DeMille Award for Dedication to Historical Accuracy to Kuruharan!”

The crowd applauded, and Diamond added, “Now, would someone please take these awards from me???"

[mark12_30]

LinGalad applauded heartily. Poetry he appreciated, especially in its higher forms; tenacious attention to historical accuracy he greatly admired; and Climbing Fences Into Graveyards In The Dead Of Night he suspected was an act of deep devotion. Considering that, he also suspected that the Fenceclimber would, once won, be a very loyal friend indeed.

The applause rolled on.

[ May 09, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

'We could fight a duel anyway if you'd like.'

Squatter was loath to turn down a good duel on the grounds of pointlessness alone, and he had thought of a way to get round the rule about weapons: 'We could fight with French loaves. That way we can eat the evidence if anyone tries to stop us!' He took a flask from his pocket and sipped delicately, very pleased with this new scheme, and at that moment Diamond dropped her bombshell.

Actually he missed the announcement, as his manly attention was occupied in sweeping the hall for a couple of bready sabres. He became aware of the sudden attention only when several rather bright lights converged on him at once, which he chose to acknowledge by raising both hands above his head. Swiftly remembering where he was he turned this gesture into a wave and walked to the stage accompanied by music so incidental as almost to be an accident.

Cheerfully returning Diamond's peck on the cheek as he'd seen done in a film once, Squatter took the trophy and made to leave, only at the last moment remembering that he was supposed to say something. Turning rather awkwardly to the podium he cleared his throat and launched into a slightly slurred speech even more improvised than his presentation address.

'Thank-you, Diamond; congratulations again on your award. It's nice to be up here receiving one in return, and I can only hope with so many to keep track of that you've given me the right one.'

With this he checked the trophy theatrically before continuing.

'Revered founder; fellow spirits: I am flabbergasted. There was I expecting to be arrested and now here I am receiving an award. I knew it was a good idea leaving out the bit about collecting spare parts, but that's another story.

I'd like to thank all those who responded so favourably to my account, and to encourage all those who expressed an interest to pay a visit to the grave of the man I like to think of as Member Number 1 (within cemetery opening hours, I might add: that fence is lethal) as soon as they can. Thanks to him for giving us all something to talk about, to the Chief Wight for giving us somewhere to do it and to his able assistants for making sure that our conversations are worth reading. I shall now go and tell my pawnbroker to clear a space on his mantlepiece. Thank you all!'

With that he turned dramatically, a gesture that was spoiled only by his slipping on the polished stage and having to grab the podium for support; then made his way back to his seat, where he began to explain to all who couldn't avoid him the relative merits of bloomers and French sticks as weapons on the field of honour.

[Arafangwen]

Arafangwen applauded the given awards as she noticed Firondoiel coming towards her with a notable look on her face. Confusion.

"What's wrong Firondoiel?" she asked when she reached their seats together.

"I just realized something, I…" Firondoiel trailed off.

"Yes?" Arafangwen prompted, she figured she knew what it was, but wanted to be sure anyways.

"I don’t feel certain feelings that I once did towards a certain someone." Firondoiel said hesitantly.

"Oh?" Arafangwen raised her eyebrows and glanced towards The Phantom, she had figured as much, but he wasn't much of a family guy.

"I think I just had a…um, "schoolgirl crush" you might say." Firondoiel said with her cheeks reddening.

"Don’t be embarrassed. You’re over it now right?" Arafangwen asked, not wanting Firondoiel's cheeks to become any more red than they already were, she was starting to look like a beet(which was very funny looking on an elf).

"Yeah. But I’ve made a fool of myself haven’t I?" Firondoiel asked.

Arafangwen shook her head. "No. Don’t worry about it." she was impressed with the girls courage, she would probably never had said any of that herself(even if it was true).

"All right." Firondoiel sighed with relief and settled into her chair.

"Good," thought Arafangwen, "she's resolved herself."

"Good to see we're both on common grounds." she said with a smile, Firondoiel just looked at her, she knew more about the situation than she could say in this public a place. But she understood and smiled back, reasuring her friend of the secrecy they shared that would remain so.

[Samwise]

Sam nudged Frodo again, and again, only a murmur.

Sam:Gracious, what could be wrong?....

[Kuruharan]

*CRASH-BANG*

A terrible noise erupted from the roof. A dragon in full flight burst through the ceiling raining debris down on the audience.

The spectators started shouting like mad and ran for cover.

In the midst of the chaos the dragon landed on the stage and Kuruharan hopped off.

"Sorry," apologized the dwarf. "I'm in a bit of a hurry. I'd like to thank the Academy, my personal trainer Ralph, my pet dragon Chrysophylax, a few of the history teachers that I have had in the past, and the letter L."

The dwarf stopped for breath.

"I would like to NOT-thank most of the other history teachers that were not covered by my earlier gratitude, the large angry aardvark that bit me when I was little, and the angry mob that just chased me out of the last city that I was trying to make a deal in. What are times coming to I'd like to know? Honest business-dwarves not allowed to carry on with their buying and selling snakeoils... Anyway, Thanks to One and All!"

Then Kuruharan jumped on Chrysophylax and flew out through the hole in the roof.

[Samwise]

Primrose watched the dwarf and dragon leave, then looked at her sleeping Uncle.

"I sure wish he would wake up!" she said, none too quietly.

[Morai]

Morai thanked Stacey once more and sat down. She started muching on a power bar. Giving a piece of it to Harlon, she relaxed. Suddenly the dragon entered along with the dwarf.

After the dwarf's sudden entrance, bit and pieces of roof fell over the audience. One of these unfortunate souls was Morai. A piece of plaster fell down her dress. She groaned. Morai glanced over to Harlon, he was knocked unconcious. The computer, only was covered in plaster dust.

"Man, I just sit down, and the roof collaspes on me. I just hope I make it out of here alive." Once again Morai stood up and tried to find Stacey, or her first aide kit. Hmm...I wonder if there's a subtle way to revove a piece of plaster from your bra.

[Samwise]

Sam looked with concern at Frodo.

"I do wish he'd wake up."

Stacey nodded. "Me, too--yike!"

Plaster rained on them as a dwarf came to accept his award--fashionably late, on a dragon--through the celing.

Primrose covered her head, but not so much that she still couldn't look at the dragon.

Mimi glanced at Frodo and the others. Not ONE of them even moved.

[Luthien_ Tinuviel]

Luthien slowly snuck in the back entrance. She hoped fervently that no one would see her. She was late. Shamefully late incredibly late. Later than she had ever been to anything. "At least I'm not wearing anything very attention-drawing," she thought to herself, looking down at her light blue flowy gown with gold trim and gold flowers in her hair. She heaved a sigh of relief when she saw that everyone was too absorbed with a dragon coming through the ceiling to notice her. Now if only she could slip in quietly and find the group which called themselves the Girls' Night Out...

[The Saucepan Man]

The Saucepan Man was busy clapping Squatter, Rimbaud and Kuruharan for their well-deserved awards when Kuruharan made his entrance.

"Whoops! There goes the ceiling again" he thought to himself, as the maintenance crew shuffled lazily in, bleepers sounding in harmony, stared up at the ceiling in disbelief, stared at each other, nodded in unison and then downed tools and shuffled right out again.

[Diamond18]

“Dromedaries, rattlesnakes, and foxburs!” Diamond ejaculated, slapping her head dramatically. “I almost forgot—well, I did forgot—but, um, CUE THE MUSIC!”

In quick fashion, three songs played one on the heels of the other.

A tasteful medley of the Indiana Jones theme and “Dance Macabre” came blaring over the speakers.

Followed by the greatest hits of “The Clash”.

And rounded off with “Kuruharan and Chrysophylax’s Theme”.

Don't know much about history,
Don't know much biology.
Don't know much about a science book,
Don't know much about the Elvish I took.
But I do know that I love you,
And I know that if you love me, too,
What a wonderful world this would be.

Don't know much about geography,
Don't know much trigonometry.
Don't know much about algebra,
Don't know what a slide rule is for.
But I know that one and one is two,
And if this one could be with you,
What a wonderful world this would be.

[ May 09, 2003: Message edited by: Diamond18 ]

[Frodo Baggins]

Maggie snapped awake with a start along with the others

"Hey! What the...? Why are we buried in plaster?"

"Darned Dragon has to make a mess like always." Frodo said with a yawn. Elrond snickered.

"I don't suppose you know how much you sound like Bilbo just now?" he smiled.

Isildae and Cromthal werechoking on plaster dust and trying to pick the peices out of their hair and off their clothes.

[Samwise]

Stacey grinned. "Well, welcome back to the land of the -- um -- awake. "

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Menelien woke up, looked around, glanced at the dragon's tail quickly moving upwards from what used to be the ceiling without surprise, and wondered if things like this always happened when she was supposed to be asleep.

[Helkahothion]

Helkahothion jumped up. Dumbledore had poked him again.

"What is it?"

"I believe they are closing down this party tody. Don't want to be locked up here now would you. I just thought I'd wake you up."

"Thanks Albus. Let's go. Where did you park the firebolt's?"

"Just outside."

"OKay let's go."

[kittiewhirl1677]

Eladoriel woke up, hearing the terrible crashing noise. A dragon flew in, with a dwarf riding atop it. The dward climbed off onto the stage, and made a speach. Then he got back onto the dragon and flew away.

"That was weird." Eladoriel whispered, to no one in particular.

The moment the dragon began to fly away, Menelien woke up just to catch a glimpse of its tail.

"Damn. I always miss stuff like this when I'm asleep."

"Hmm... I've never seen a dwarf riding a dragon in my life. Actually, I've never seen a dragon period."

"Hey, El, wake me up next time something happens, okay?"

"Sure, but Menelien, why don't you just NOT go to sleep. Stuff happens litterally ALL the time here. Menel? HellO!?"
But Menelien was back down on her seat, eyes closed, snoring(okay, maybe I overexadurated here) noisily.

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Menelien loved making Eladoriel think she was a noisy sleeper( smilies/tongue.gif). She actually wasn't asleep at all.Finally she sat up and said: "El, I just heard some people in front of us saying this place is going to be closed really soon. Let's leave in like 20 minutes, kay?" And, not waiting for an answer, Menelien said "Thank you." and turned in the other direction.

[kittiewhirl1677]

Menelien turned around and looked at the stage.

"Yeah, sure, 20 minutes, okay. Is there going to be a final award, Menel? Or is there going to be some closing speech or something... Or is this it?"

Eladoriel looked at Menelien, awaiting an answer.

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

"Absolutely no idea. Should I know?" she said, yawning and quickly falling asleep in earnest... and not snoring smilies/biggrin.gif .

[HerenIstarion]

H-I grinned at Squatter with a tombstone under his arm.

"Congrats, old fellow. You know, all this clamour and dragon flights in and out made me hungry. One can not live on beer, after all. What about us proceeding to the barrier right away? So to eat weaponry/evidence as soon as possible afterwards? Since I presume to be longer-armed, let me choose this shorter loaf, if you would be so merciful. It would be a great honour to have part of those in praise of beautiful lady on her way to the Old World"

[ May 10, 2003: Message edited by: HerenIstarion ]

[Frodo Baggins]

Isildae giggled, "well I do not know what knocked us out. oh well." He took a sip of the water that was next to him and then "Pffft! Cahria was right! Water really DOES taste old after its sat out all night."

"You doubted my word?" MAggie smirked.

"All right you two." Frodo gave them both a warning look.

[Bekah]

Narelen (previously known as Varda Elentari, companion of Kementari and friend of Nurumaiel, and still the latter two) walked in slowly. Her business (on Earth, it's known as maths) was not quite finished, but she had heard that the party was finishing. She looked around at the dishevelled people and furniture, with many of the former straggling outside.

She sighed. She knew that no awards had been presented to her friend, Bekah, who had been sleeping the hidden room over in the hall, a day before the moderators decorated the hall for the party, now long finished. Bekah ate or read when she chose to be awake, bored with looking at the patterns the light made on the ceiling.

Perhaps next time...

[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

'Thanks, old boy,' drawled Squatter. 'Nothing to it really: fence-climbing's all in the wrists, you see. Now to settle this debt of honour: after you.'

Selecting the proffered crusty blade, he placed it under his arm like a swagger-stick and accompanied Heren to a quiet spot where they could test their mettle with these paragons of the baker's art. With mock gravity the duellists saluted one another and then with cries of 'Have at you', they leaped to the fray. Soon the air was filled with crumbs and fragments of crust; a possibly fitting tribute to the fair traveller in the wilds of Europe who had prompted the contest.

[ May 10, 2003: Message edited by: The Squatter of Amon Rûdh ]

[Meela]

Meela sidled into the backstage area, avoiding the chaos and clutter of the wings. Nervously adjusting her dress straps, she spotted Denethor lounging on a tatty sofa, carefully polishing her award with the sleeve of his fur-lined cloak. Meela sighed dreamily and remained hidden from his view. She did not want to disturb the scene, preferring to drool in private for a while longer.
Eventually she could bear it no more. Leaping upon the unsuspecting Steward, she threw the award aside and grabbed his collar. Denethor gasped in surprise as Meela planted an enthusiastic kiss upon his lips. It did not take him long to respond.
Reluctantly she pulled away and stood up. Feeling a little awkward, Meela held out her hand, which Denethor solemnly shook. Then, grinning, he picked up the once more dusty award and pressed it into her hand. Taking her by the other hand, they made their way out of the wings and around to the entrance of the ceremonial hall. They took their seats at the back, their heads bent together as they discussed who had made an appearance and who had not. Meela paused in her mutterings to wave enthusiastically at Airehiriel, and grinned as the wave was returned.

[Samwise]

Sam yawned. "Well, sir, looks like they've given out all th' awards they're gonna give. "

Stacey stood. "Shall we go then?" she reached out a hand to Cromthal. "It was nice meeting you, finally. "

[Arafangwen]

Arafangwen tryed her best to ignore the dragon bursting through the ceiling with a dwarven fellow on his back, those people just wanted attention. Looking around she spotted Luthien coming towards their group.

"Luthien!" she called out

"Glad you could finaly join us!" she said in a mock scolding tone.

"Where have you been?" she asked the (very) late elven maiden.

[Samwise]

Primrose hopped off of her seat and gave Frodo a good - bye hug. "I'm glad you were here, Uncle Frodo. Sorry you didn't get and award."

Sam frowned. "Yes, I'd like to talk to someone about that..."

Stacey: Oh, Sam... smilies/rolleyes.gif

Mimi and Tennyson just looked at each other and shook their heads.

[Morai]

Morai shook her head. People were leaving, a sure sign that she hadn't one an award. Three people at least, won awards that she knew from Kiddnapped! RPG. The girl shrugged, Morai really hadn't participated in many RPGs since the new system started.

Pushing through the crowds, Morai headed to the hall of the party. Next to the liquor, there was a cooler chest. Grinning, she opened it. Inside the container was ice cubes.

"Perfect for waking unconcious dates." Morai whispered to herself.

Taking a nearby plastic bag, she stuffed a handful of ice into it. Clomping back to the Auditorium, she pondered Harlon's reaction. Morai spotted the victim, still sprawled on the seats. Being as silent as possible, she walked toward him. A row behind, Morai opened the bag of ice once more and poured it down the shirt of Harlon Nowane.

He leaped out of his slumber. Harlon sped down the aisle his arms and legs flying. Just then he realised the cause of the problem. Morai braced the chair for balance, laughing hysterically. Unforunate for her, Morai didn't notice the elf behind. Her date tickeled her, making Morai gigle even more.

Striding out the door, the hysterical duo arm in arm. There were smiles on their red faces.

"Harlon, I think we should wait a bit longer. I'm not sure if all the awards were given out yet." Morai said, ignoring the doubt in her head.

[Samwise]

Sam waved a last goodbye to Frodo and the others, then headed for the door.

"I hate to say this." he whispered. "But I fear I was almost as bored as my daughter at that one. "

Stacey grimaced as they went out the door. "Well, better to be bored than tortured or eaten by Orcs, or for that matter being stuck on an Elven ship going someplace it's not supposed to go. "

Sam: True.

They went to the trail that headed past the Great Hall, and Mimi looked up and down it.

"Oh, dear. How are we going to get home? "

Stacey bit her lower lip. She hadn't thought of that, and even if she did call Worthington, she doubted four of them could fit in the back seat of the car comfortably.....

Stacey: Erm, Sam, you wouldn't mind sitting in my lap, would you?

The Hobbit shook his head, seeming to know what she was thinking. "No, not at all. Call Worthington. I've got to get back to Bag End and plant those Moonflower seeds I got. "

Stacey snickered, thinking of the fanficton she was writing that had to do with similar flowers...."Okay. " she activated her wrist communicator. "Worthington? Yes, it's me...could you come get us? We're ready to come home. "

[Luthien_ Tinuviel]

Luthien ran up to meet Arafangwen.

"Did I miss the reception?" she asked. Upon being informed that she had missed practically everything, and being comforted by the fact that she would be on time next year, she told the whole story:

"Well, you see, I started out for the Barrow-downs 12 days ago. Riding my swift horse, I figured it would take me a little over a day to get here. It seems, however, that fate would have it otherwise. I was waylaid by a small band of orcs near the banks of Anduin. It came to a fight, but luckily I was able to ride away not much hurt. Little did I know that I was soon to learn how foolish it was of me to travel without an escort. On the dawn of the 1st of May, as I was riding up the Greenway towards the Barrow-downs, I discovered that the orcs had friends in the area. The old band of orcs had joined with a larger band and surrounded me. Knowing that they were too many to fight alone, I tried to escape. For several days, to my frustration, I was pursued south and east, but never was I able to turn back towards my destination. By the 4th I and my pursuers reached the Greyflood. It was at this point that my horse was shot from under me by an orc-shaft. I was finally able to lose them in Swanfleet, for they seemed to be called away on more pressing business than the pursuit of a lone elf-maiden. I then made my way back up the Greenway on foot. Thankful that I had worn travelling clothes, I quickly changed into my party attire, and came to the Barrow-downs, where you see me now. By the way, have they given out all of the awards already?"