2004 Barrow-Downs’ Birthday Celebration!

[piosenniel]

The minute the word demographic had fallen from the ill-shaped lips of Kransha, a curious image appeared in Pio’s mind. And all the incongruities of the Orc’s speech and demeanor fell into place. Elessar had gone through with his plans to build a second set of governmental offices on the old site of Barad-dûr!

Dress this Orc and his Uruk compatriots in plain grey tunics, stick a quill in one misshapen hand and a ream of vellum in the other and you’ve solved the problem of what to do with the left-over spawn of Shadow. Once trained as crunchers of Men and Elves, now they worked under the flickering fluöréscent lamplight in the cavernous halls of the great grey granite building . . . continuing in what they had been trained so well to do, though in a different manner. They still ‘crunched’ . . . but now it was numbers . . . myriads of numbers . . . and this demographics she recalled had been one of the King’s buzzwords when he’d talked about his plans.

His kingdom was large, she had heard him say at one of the parties she’d attended in Minas Tirith. Large and expensive; his Ministry of Treasury was stretched thin already. A new Ministry was needed to keep the coffers filled, the government running smoothly . . .

Now what was that name . . . yes, there it was . . . strange words on the tip of her tongue . . . Ministry of Cênsusántaxâtion . . . a bit Orcish sounding to her ears . . .

Best not to offend any possible emissaries from the High King, she thought, sighing at the sound of approaching belches and flatus . . .

‘Well, now Kransha, this is a party. And all are most welcome. Just let me not see any of you doing any ‘work’ while you are here. Relax! Enjoy yourselves! Show your compatriots round to the food and drink tables.’ She leaned in close to him, pleasantly surprised by the fresh minty smell of his breath. ‘You might want to make sure they eat al fresco, if you would. Out in the open is preferable . . . where the ventilation is adequate to their needs . . .’

. . . and ours! she thought to herself.