[HerenIstarion]

Third day of feasting was well on when grey-clad figure approached the party field. Taking a closer look, if an onlooker not busy with merrymaking may have been found, it may have been noticed that garments the figure has been wearing were rather blue, but dust-covered to the extent it was hard to place a bet on it. H-I was late for the party and knew it. He was away on pressing business of his own to the Havens, and, however eager he was to join the celebration, could not help coming up belatedly. "I'll find them all snoring when I get there, whatever may be said about wizards being never late" he reflected as he was approaching the party field. But whatever his thoughts on the subject, decent amount of din were radiating in every direction. "After all, some snack maybe left for weary traveler too" he laughed heartily and turned to the gate.

But prior to taking the step in, H-I took care to beat some of the dust off, adjusted his hat and scarf and dropped his knapsack by the post. "The wizard must appear in a proper fashion, otherwise who'd be awed?" He raised his staff, which exploded into the night with the golden fountain of a firework. H-I seemed quite pleased with the effect. 'I have written HerenIstarion is here in signs that all can read from Rivendell to the mouths of Anduin.' he murmured into his beard as he moved forward. 'I may be less good than Olorin was, but now that he's back to Aman, I'm the best this side of the sea"

But, to his displeasure, not many took heed of the mounting flames at the entrance. "They are all drunk, as I should have expected." he grunted. "Should I blow up some piece of after-the-feast garbage that is to be found in plenty around here to draw their attention?" By now he turned his gaze to the party tree, "Hum, what a waste of parchment, all stuck up the trunk and the very branches of it. But let us take a closer look and learn what it is all about" For a while, he was reading birthday wishes, smiling now and again as pieces of good poetry caught his sight, and eventually noticed quite a large scroll titled Rules for the Partygoers, almost entirely covered under all sorts of leaflets and posters. "Kind of spelling contest, is it? Let us see, let us see… I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves or Men or Orcs that was ever used for such a purpose. But now I must dash off on the spot, seemingly. But I can do better than nailing it to the tree" he chuckled, "Am I not the Deadnight Chanter?"

The wizard turned to the field, raised both his arms and started to rock gently, than faster and faster, spinning, revolving, now squatting, now kneeling, making complex moves with his arms and hands, fingers held tightly together. He was engaged in a dance unnoticed, until he began to chant, softly at first, but as the dance quickened, the chant too gained strength and sound:

Be ye cheerful, be ye mirthful
Ale be flowing, sing ye gleeful
Rare be anger, beef be roasting
Real be made yer table boasting
Oft be singing, rare be weeping
Wood be burning, bones be heaping
Dark be fearless, stars be shining
Oft together ye'll be dining
Wights be feasting, minstrels derry
Night be dancing, morn be merry
Sing ye joyful, sing together!

One by one, as the chant filled the field, guest and host alike, the faces were turning to the tree, lips were moving almost unwittingly, as here and there people were starting to sing, and hundred of voices uttered concurrent sigh: 'HerenIstarion is here!'