The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - 2004 Barrow-Downs’ Birthday Celebration!

Lyta_Underhill · 05-03-2004, 11:49 PM

Lyta stirred out of her profound stupor once an uncharacteristically large percentage of ambient sound filtered into her subconscious, registering a high number of orcs in the area. Sure enough, when she managed to pry one eye open, she beheld a scene that reminded her more of a rainy night party on a Misty Mountain pass than a dignified hobbit-run affair. Not that she minded. She was three sheets to the West Wind and not prone to hangovers.

In the distance, she noticed Cami, who had actually been the one to send the invite (at much trouble to the wilds beyond the Withywindle, I might add, and much appreciated!). She was throwing water at several respectable Barrowdowners, strangely enough, not really affecting their respectability in any way at all, except to render them respectably wet. As Lyta had a need to wash her once-white dress after the long detour, she decided perhaps this was not such a bad thing to join in...summoning the strongest (and least drunk) Took lads around her, she managed to shoulder a good load of honeysuckle wine and venture forward (on a zig-zag path).

Lyta reached the oddly out of place mound and directed the honeysuckle wine to be deposited there. Once she had unburdened herself, she caught a face full of water from she knew not where. It ran down her whitish dress, not really washing it at all. She realized what a mistake had been made, but she also realized she had to find some water quickly. Spying a strange man surrounded by myriad saucepans, she crawled in his general direction, managing to lay hands on one small egg-poaching cup before falling on her face again. Luckily, a missed aim filled her tiny cup with a full dose and she let it fly at what appeared to be an orc wearing a polka-dotted bow tie. Lyta wondered if Treebeard had spiked her wine with something truly unheard of, as she rubbed her eyes and continued to see the same loud tie attached incongruously to a definite orc.

Lyta rose unsteadily and filled her egg-poaching cup full of a draught of wine and raised a toast to the Barrow-wight. May your barrow never flood in the rain and always be well-air conditioned in the summer! Cheers!

Lyta

05-03-2004, 11:49 PM	#151
Lyta_Underhill Haunted Halfling Join Date: Feb 2003 Location: an uncounted length of steps--floating between air molecules Posts: 841	Lyta stirred out of her profound stupor once an uncharacteristically large percentage of ambient sound filtered into her subconscious, registering a high number of orcs in the area. Sure enough, when she managed to pry one eye open, she beheld a scene that reminded her more of a rainy night party on a Misty Mountain pass than a dignified hobbit-run affair. Not that she minded. She was three sheets to the West Wind and not prone to hangovers. In the distance, she noticed Cami, who had actually been the one to send the invite (at much trouble to the wilds beyond the Withywindle, I might add, and much appreciated!). She was throwing water at several respectable Barrowdowners, strangely enough, not really affecting their respectability in any way at all, except to render them respectably wet. As Lyta had a need to wash her once-white dress after the long detour, she decided perhaps this was not such a bad thing to join in...summoning the strongest (and least drunk) Took lads around her, she managed to shoulder a good load of honeysuckle wine and venture forward (on a zig-zag path). Lyta reached the oddly out of place mound and directed the honeysuckle wine to be deposited there. Once she had unburdened herself, she caught a face full of water from she knew not where. It ran down her whitish dress, not really washing it at all. She realized what a mistake had been made, but she also realized she had to find some water quickly. Spying a strange man surrounded by myriad saucepans, she crawled in his general direction, managing to lay hands on one small egg-poaching cup before falling on her face again. Luckily, a missed aim filled her tiny cup with a full dose and she let it fly at what appeared to be an orc wearing a polka-dotted bow tie. Lyta wondered if Treebeard had spiked her wine with something truly unheard of, as she rubbed her eyes and continued to see the same loud tie attached incongruously to a definite orc. Lyta rose unsteadily and filled her egg-poaching cup full of a draught of wine and raised a toast to the Barrow-wight. May your barrow never flood in the rain and always be well-air conditioned in the summer! Cheers! Lyta __________________ “…she laid herself to rest upon Cerin Amroth; and there is her green grave, until the world is changed, and all the days of her life are utterly forgotten by men that come after, and elanor and niphredil bloom no more east of the Sea.”