**Birthday Party in the Barrow** (May, 2005)

[Ainaserkewen]

Aina came up behind where that startlingly huge group of party-goers were discussing Tom Bombadil. Aina had to remember her manners or be caught eye-rolling. Instead she approached quietly, much like a ghost, and laid small hands on both Fea's and the phantom's shoulders squarely.

"Didn't you guys bring any presents for me?" She pouted a bit.

They both turned from their conversation and looked blankly at Aina. She smiled again and inched her way into the circle.

"I think Fea's right," She spoke to the group, "When do we see Bombadil and the Witch King together? It makes perfect sense. And by the way, Hi everybody, sorry I'm late. I just flew in from Canada and my arms are exhausted!" She giggled at her own joke.

[Thenamir]

"I can't see the Bombadil/WitchKing connection," Thenamir offered, slapping a name tag on his lapel that read Hello, My Name Is TVS, "because old Angy bought the farm in the battle of the Pellenor. If the rumors are true (I personally don't give them any weight whatsoever) then the grey geezer Gandalf went to talk to him after the war was over. That is, until he sailed off to the end of the world, and good riddance too."

"If anyone were to ask me, and no one has so I'll say it anyway, I think the old King of Angmar, may he rest in peace, was actually Elrond. Here Elrond is, supposedly one of the wisest heads in Middle Earth, and he picks a hobbit, the scrawniest and most vulnerable critter available, and gives to him the one thing the enemy needed for complete totalitarian victory. Then he sends him off into the home court of the enemy with this veritable homing beacon hanging on his neck! It sounds to me like Elrond was in league with Sauron and was trying to make it as easy as possible for the Dark One to pick off the ring without blowing his own cover. You notice that Elrond and his bunch are nowhere near the final battles."

Thenamir/TVS sauntered off in the direction of the musical instruments, picked up a guitar and began tuning it.

[Estelyn Telcontar]

Ms. 'H' sat in a comfortable settee, fading into the background and listening to the others carry on what she had begun. That was a tactic she frequently employed, and she always enjoyed the results. She grinned at TVS, appreciating his theory and looking forward to hearing more from the other guests. Though she would likely soon leave unobtrusively for the beauty sleep she so desperately needed, she was sure the party would carry on merrily without her. And she had another day to look forward to...

[Ainaserkewen]

Aina peered at Enca, "Metaphorical wings? Doesn't every Canadian fly? I mean, from the lack of planes in our military to the few modes of transportation in extremely snowy weather, you'd think we all should be able to do it by now.

Someone passed Aina a nametag, some random servant of the BW apparently. He shoved it into her hand all the while muttering about people "arriving late" and "giving him more work" or some such nonsense.

"Hold on a sec! This says Shannon...I'm not supposed to give out my name..." Oh well, cat's out of the bag. She pinned it to her crisp white button down shirt. "I'll be whatever you want me to be I suppose."

[Nimrodel_9]

Nearly tripping over her long blue dress, Nimrodel stumbled in through a door. "Why did I even wear a blasted dress?" she asked herself. "Jeans and a t-shirt are my style!" She quickly forgot what she was wearing as she saw her friends. She smiled and waved to a few. She had been afraid everyone would be gone. With her job it was sometimes hard to make it to the Downs. She flipped her long, curly, brown hair over her shoulder and straightened her name tag that read Chels. She laid her worn copy of Return of the King on the table with her clarinet case and strode over to a group of ghostly beings.

[Lindolirian]

After sitting quietly in his traditional corner, Lindolirian begins to feel guilty about not properly introducing himself.
"Greetings good wights, old and new. It's wonderful to see you all here at our Fifth Birthday Party! You all seem to be enjoying yourselves with the festivities here, but I remind you that no party is complete without fun and games. As usual, I'll be in the Quiz Room ready to take you on in celebration of five years of good discussion. See you there!"
And with that, the World's Tallest Hobbit retired back to his familiar old trivia, but still kept an open ear (or eye) to the main party.

[THE Ka]

Everyone was up, and Ka felt thirty. Now, she wasn't thirty for just anything, Absinthe seemed good, but just alittle since it was rather potent. Falling threw the floor again, Ka returned with a little of the liquid and her sitar of course. Her avatars were situated around and about the party, really doing nothing but just standing around, looking absolutely drained. Feeling rather sorry, Ka called them back and sent them home. All of them, which formed a rather long line into the abyss of the corner. First mixing the sugar and water she continued to sip the bitter contents of the very small glass, a thimble almost in size, Ka watched the party continue.

Where was the BarrowWright? Why would he miss this party? Even asking these questions, Ka did not alot of room to talk, since she had missed a couple of her own. Though it was true that one of her friends had a birthday fetish, it was still rather unusual for someone to miss their own party. The party had been running for two days now, and it was most like that BW would come at the last minute. Done with the small glass, she situated herself to play her sitar. Struming a few practice notes and some scales later, she randomly made up a song. In truth, she couldn't play a single song written for sitar and had gotten by with making them up for practice.

More and more people arrived, and even though the food bar was a little pathetic, the party was reaching it's prime.

[Thenamir]

She laid her worn copy of Return of the King on the table with her clarinet case

"Hey, Nimrodel_9! Bring your clarinet over and we can jam!" said Thenamir from where he was experimentally strumming the guitar.

"What shall we play? "I Left My Heart In Minas Tirith"? "My (Telltale) Heart Will Go On?" Or maybe "My Ghoul"? Perhaps some other song titles suggested by the audience (hint hint)?

[Nimrodel_9]

"Ok!" Nimrodel said laughing. Quickly she opened her case and began to put her instrument together. "A guitar and a clarinet! This will be fun! Are there any suggestions to what we shall play?"

[wilwarin538]

Would it be alright if I join you with my violin?

[Thenamir]

"If you can suggest a barrow-worthy tune, sure! The more the merrier!" effused Thenamir.

[littlemanpoet]

LMP bid the Barrow Wight a happy deathday and many happy returns, then bid farewell to one and all, a most entertaining party it had been. He collected his various rpg personae, congas, bass guitars, brass, air fiddles and pipe dreams, and put them all in his front pockets. Out the front door he floated, humming odd bits of tunes.

[THE Ka]

It was late on the third day, and Ka had taken to making a portrait of the event. At first, most were sitting or being comatose, but as the party grew on, people moved about doing this or that, or decided to start new activties. This, as for anyone trying to take a picture through paintbrushes and oils, is rather annoying, but people are people and she could not challenge that. More visitors came in, and with them an addition to the scene steadily forming on the blank insperation. While, others left the scene which proved to be more of a challenge than the previous action on the member's behalf. To solve this, their last moments within the room were documented upon the space designated for them. For awhile, the food table too, changed. Like a rubber band, it expanded and shrank with people's hunger or mere cravings. By far the Barrow Wright was the easiest to document, for they did not bounce around as others had taken to and was the most interesting for the glow that emitted from this figure of both glady given freedom and sharp authorative reason upon other more suspicious acts within the membership.

The picture near completetion seemed to tell more than what it dictated. Showing not telling was it's policy, even though its subjects would have included a song or two to aid it's utter most importance. The scene seemed to change within the room, as Ka became more and more absorbed into her work. Painting a picture with an actual deadline within the creator's brain is like a crazied but still patient distance runner, you know what your up against, just not how many things will come your way.

Finally, some time later it was finished or for the painting part at least, it still had to dry, varnished, ect... Ka leaned back in her chair with a gruff of satisfaction. It looked wonderful. Removing the smock and cleaning the brushes in the kitchen sink of the barrow, she relfected upon it's appearance somewhere, maybe no where except in a closet until it was needed. She returned to find it still intact, and ready to dry. Taking care, ka lifted it up and returned home to the studio room within her residence and placed it in a protective corner to complete it's maturity.

After cleaning up a bit more, Ka returned to the party and sat in a lone chair against a wall. Again, back to observing the sight of celebration.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Hilde laughed until she started coughing as she thought again about the question Pio’s had poised. Me play or sing? “Gads yes, I do to be sure, but let’s just say I have never been encouraged to pursue it!” she had answered with a grin. A bit of an understatement, really. And after Hilde had offered her a handful of homemade chidwa (heavily laced with red pepper) and a purple pill to go with it, or rather before it. Pio had sauntered off, with Hilde staring at her ankle trying to figure out just how to pronounce ~*~P~*~ . She was never much good at foreign languages!

But now that she had finished sorting out the trinkets on the table, untangling chains and matching sets. She looked at them appreciatively; they did look pretty authentic to her eye, despite the comments on the Barrow-wight taste in fine jewelry these days. But just as she was trying to decide if the were genuine article or simply neo-Cardolan, perhaps Numenorian or rubbish, a cat closely followed by Codijune whoshed by. And as Ealasaide scurried past quickly gaining on the animals. Hilde/GIN called out, “Hey Ealasaide! What to you make of these?” But Ealasaide seemed to have her hands full and held up a finger as if to signal that she be there in a minute.

Getting an uncomfortable feeling that these things had not been meant to be left out, Hilde scooped up the baubles and dumped them in an empty spittoon that looked remarkably like a golf trophy, sitting under the table. Picking up the spittoon, lest anyone actually attempt to use the thing, she set it on a high shelf, next to the hardback copy of Tolkien’s letters and the autographed Alan Lee print. She squinted trying to read the inscription on the side of the brass cup. Well I'll be, she thought, Bandobras Took! The old-wight's been hitting the Shire flea-markets!

[Encaitare]

Enca was feeling far more energetic and outgoing than she usually found herself, and so she drifted back towards the musicians in time to hear Lindolirian talk about transposition.

Music theory! Enca thought in geeky delight.

"No worries, Lindo," she informed him cheerfully. "Oboes play in the key of C, and so do violins. Most clarinets are in B flat, so you have to write the part a whole step (two chromatic pitches) higher if you want to play it on a clarinet. Guitars sound an octave lower than written, but you don't have to transpose at all."

"Oh... thanks," Lindo replied, now a little bit wiser.

"My, you are a tall hobbit, aren't you?" Enca then moved on to greet Thenamir, a spirit she'd heard about but rarely spoken with. "I can't tell you how great a pleasure it is to meet the spirit of our economic system," she said, shaking his hand.

Suddenly she got an idea. "I know a song we could play!" She sang the chorus of the song and grinned: "I wanna rock and roll all wight, and party e-ve-ry day!"

She then commenced headbanging, and wondered if anyone wanted to start a mosh pit.

[littlemanpoet]

LMP popped an eye open. Then he popped the other open. Then he opened his mouth as big as he could to pop his ears. Pop! Pop! Darned ears, always clogging when I sleep. He had been dreaming that he had gotten out of bed, made breakfast, driven to work, spent almost ten hours there, then come home again and had supper. Then he'd gone to his computer to see how things were going at the Barrowdowns Birthday party, when lo and behold, he woke up! Actually, he had been only in a doze for the last few hours, so he had overheard a raucous debate on the topic of Tom Bombadil's wings. Various and sundry persons had held forth to the great satisfaction of all involved, but especially themselves. LMP screwed up his face. He felt that certain points had been missed, and it was his job to clear it all up. He got his feet under him and stood up in the soft oversized green chair, and promptly tipped over, barely catching himself before he conked his head on the floor. He scrambled to an upright position and cleared his throat.

"As to Tom Bombadil and his wings,
to which this and that theorist clings,
allow me to say that you're all missing
important facts. Now, no hissing!
You will notice in the book that never
are Tom, Gollum, and Balrog together!
Indeed, it is clear that these three
combined make up one entity,
whether dancing upon the green,
or getting under Sam's spleen,
or pulling a wizard down a fissure,
the three together make one Trickster!"

LMP finished with his arms raised, a big smile on his face.

[Encaitare]

"I just flew in from Canada and my arms are exhausted," Aina laughed, and Enca could not resist joining the conversation.

"I see that you too have metaphorical wings, then," she observed. "Or I don't see, rather. Say, phantom, what have you got in those cool trunks?" She peered at them curiously, but he only responded with enigmatic cheekiness, "Pictures of Bombadil and Aina flying." Her refused to say any more about it for the time, so Enca turned her attentions back to the crackpot theories.

"I'm not so sure about Elrond being in league with Sauron. Clearly Frodo had some sort of inside deal with Sauron, or why else would he volunteer to bring the Ring at great personal peril? And what about Grima and Treebeard? Forget that whole 'rousing of the Ents' business; it's obvious that Grima was mad at Saruman and gave Treebeard a few hints. You know, like 'Hey, the third massive stone block from the left is a little loose and if you yank it out then the dam will break, no problem.'"

Talking about her favorite slimy character made Enca wonder if Elianna would be joining them at the party -- not, of course, because she thought Eli was slimy in any way, but because then they could be fangirlish together.