2004 Barrow-Downs’ Birthday Celebration!

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

Hilde tried to imagine her sweet children’s hair all the luminous colors of the fireworks she watched, brilliant reds, and greens, cool blues and crackling gold. They might look quite nice as long as it wasn’t permanent, she thought yawning. Good to know though, that there were folk about who could undo such things incase a hobbit’s hair proved a more stubborn type.

“I do apologize,” Hilde said. “It has been a long day and the fresh air and good food it seems has taken its toll. No reflection on your delightful company! You see my husband has nodded off already,” she said pointing to a stocky hobbit asleep propped up by an even stouter tree, and snoring rather loudly.

“Ah! What is happening over there?” Nerindel said turning to face up hill, as her keen eyes followed a misfired rocket. A small burst of flame was followed by overwhelming shadow and more fire, until Hilde saw the stalwart SVF (the heroes of Hobbiton) arrive with buckets of water to douse the blaze. “If I am not mistaken there is a Balrog on The Hill!” the elf observed. Both women shuttered.

“You never know who might show up at these parties with open invitations, now do you!” Hilde remarked. “Especially one where the guest of honor hold such a reputation.” she said with a wink.

[Kitanna]

"Nothing like garlic to chase the blues away." Kitanna joked taking the pizza fromSymestreem. She munched silently and watched the fireworks with Symestreem and Arestevana.

After finished her bit of pizza Kitanna turned to the other two smily broadly. "I always loved fireworks." She stated, looking up as another one was set off. "There's something about them that seems to magical."

Kitanna looked back at Symestreem and Arestevana. "So, Arestevana you are from Rohan? I was born and raised there myself, lovely country." Kitanna sighed and fell silent for a moment. "And you, Symestream, are you a musician?"

[Orual]

"I've been all right," Orual said, running her hands absently through her hair. They came away a splotchy red, and she groaned. Curse all cheap temporary hair colour! Nuranar leaned over to look at the newly crimson hands and laughed.

"Henna?" she asked.

"Henna," Orual replied miserably. She looked up at her friend and finally cracked a smile. "I was too cheap and too scared to go with the permanent stuff. I thought it might be nice to have red hair for the party. I even used the sealant...but it didn't take, I can only assume."

She looked around and surrepitously wiped her hands on the seat of her breeches, then pulled her tunic over it. When she looked up, quite pleased with herself, Nuranar was glancing at her with one eyebrow raised. Orual shrugged innocently. "What?"

[symestreem]

Symestreem had long ago learned one of the advantages of being mute: you didn't have to chew your food before you talked. She took another bite of pizza and wrote,
Yes, I carry the fiddle with me but I also play the pipe and the accordian. I once played something called a 'piano', but I've never seen another one. Have either of you ever heard of it?
While they read this, she went to go grab more pizza. A short young woman was standing by the tables, apparently having a pizza-eating contest with herself. On a hunch, symestreem tapped the woman on the shoulder.
Excuse me, she wrote, but are you Eowyn Skywalker? I've been looking for you. Someone told me you knew songs from another galaxy. Then she added, You can come sit with us if you want, but I'm not sure if we'd be more engaging company than the pizza. Which is quite good, by the way. Then she handed the note to Eowyn Skywalker with a smile and a wave and headed back to her nearby table (with more pizza, of course, and some drinks that she snagged along the way!)

[Arestevana]

A piano? Arestevana re-read the note, puzzling over it. She had heard both the pipe and the accordion played in the halls of Edoras, and was quite impressed by Symestreem’s musical history. But what in Arda was a piano? It did sound a bit familiar, a feeling reminiscent of Déjà vu, but she was quite certain she had never seen or heard of such a thing.

Symestreem had gone to find more pizza, and Kitanna was still puzzling over the note. When the former reappeared with drinks, Arestevana replied apologetically, “I’m sorry, but I’ve never heard of a piano before. What is it?” Waiting as the fiddler paused to write another note, Arestevana reached for a glass. She took a sip: wine. Regretfully, she set the glass down again. The pizza had made her thirsty, but she had a strange feeling that she shouldn’t drink the tempting concoction. It probably had something to do with the kind but firm bringing-up she’d received from her foster parents.

Sighing, Arestevana leaned over to read the note Symestreem was completing. She suddenly realized how tired she was. Even arriving late, she hadn’t slept in almost forty-eight hours, if her exhaustion was any measure. Shaking off the subtle nagging of her conscience, she took another gulp of wine. It would keep her awake, and she really didn’t wish to miss the last hours of the celebration.

[symestreem]

She tried to remember all the details of the piano as she sketched it and wrote a description.
It has hammers... and strings... she added the legs to her drawing. They have these things called keys, and you play one, or two, or three, and the hammer hits something. I'm not quite sure what; I've only played it once. The keyboard is kind of like one on an accordian... I liked it because I could accompany singers. Wherever I go, I'm on the lookout for another one.
She noticed Kitanna picking at the pizza. When she said "You really shouldn't eat so much of that, Symestreem," her suspicions were confirmed. I don't like the garlic, I just like cheese, she mouthed, shaking the spices off of her pizza.
Are you a musician, Kitanna? she added. You seem to know about musical instruments.
She noticed Arestevana sipping at the drink and grimacing. Go easy on the stuff if you've never had wine, she wrote.

[Kitanna]

Kitanna read Symestreem's note. Are you a musician? "Not really. My mother wanted me to learn to play the fiddle, but I failed miserably at that." She remembered the first time her mother put a fiddle in her hands. Kitanna was about six and the sound she produced was unlike anything in this world.

Her mother had grimaced and declared, with practice you'll be the best. Well three years and thousands of hours of practicing later Kitanna had failed to lose the ungodly sound she produced from the fiddle. Her mother could no longer stand it and hid the fiddle. So, Kitanna had turned her talents to other things. "I sing," Kitanna finally said after thinking about her first musical encounter. "I know a little about instruements, but I am a singer."

[Durelin]

Durelin groaned. She felt sore all over, and it was awfully dark around. Then she realized she had yet to open her eyes. She didn't remember closing them, though. She opened them to a less dark darkness, with a light from somewhere nearby glowing faintly through some kind of veil. It was a white veil...she tried as hard as she could to think of where she might be. Well, of course she knew she was at a party. The party, actually, but where exactly she had gotten in the time of this party... The coming of night, along with a little excess ale, had been just enough to close her eyes, it seemed. And how? How? It had been such a little bit of ale...Too little, now that she thought about it.

Durelin was about get out from behind this white veil that separated her from the food and ale, when a loud bang made her jump. Which promptly caused her to hit her head on something hard just above her. A flash followed, lighting up the glowing white veil to a bright green. For a moment she sat and thought this through, and it took her only a moment to reach this conclusion: "Kalbang..."

Quickly scrambling out, she reached another conclusion: she had been under the table. She stood there a moment before quickly moving her head from side to side to see if anyone had seen her. She caught sight of the food behind her on the table, and promptly grabbed a taquito. While munching on it, another bang brought about another jump, and she bit her tongue. A strange noise escaped her mouth, coming from somewhere in her throat, and again she looked around to see if anyone was looking at her.

Durelin continued to eat her taquito, finally adjusted to the sound of the fireworks (for the most part...), and watched the show. She waited for her favorite type of firework, the ones that looked like willow trees, white with bursts that ran down to the ground, trailing long tails behind them. She applauded as this firework finally came, thinking of how the Downs never ceased to surprise her. They even had her favorite firework...and taquitos.

Letting out a great yawn, and feeling stronger the ache in her tongue, Durelin decided that it was time for her to go to bed before she found herself under another table. Knowing her luck, it would be the Barrow Wight's gift table.

"I'm just a gift to anyone..." she thought aloud, and followed it up with a laugh. She cracked herself up. Looking around once more to make sure no one had heard or seen, she gave a shrug of her shoulders and, taking a taquito on the road with her (she would later curse herself for not taking an ale), went to find her mule, singing as she went (and no longer caring if anyone heard or saw):

"Happy Birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
You live in a zoo,
You look like a monkey,
And you smell like one, too."

Happy birthday to the Barrow of monkeys!

[Arestevana]

“So, Arestevana you are from Rohan? I was born and raised there myself, lovely country.” Arestevana winced as Kitanna spoke. Luckily, she was spared answering a moment as a second question was directed towards Symestreem. Remembering Kitanna’s earlier observation, Areste took a bite of pizza, wincing as the strong garlic flavor overcame her. It did allay her melancholy, though, at least temporarily. She swallowed and turned her mind to a suitable reply.

“I was born and raised in Rohan, yes,” she said. “Though, my parents dwelt for most of their lives in Rivendell, the haven of our people.” She stumbled in the confused silence elicited by this statement, and quickly filled her mouth with another bite of pizza. Was it truly that uncommon for an elf to be raised by mortals? “Please, tell us more about yourself, Symestreem,” said Arestevana hurriedly. “As Kitanna asked, are you a musician?”

[Ithaeliel]

"Excuse me... sir, may I try a half-pint of sweet ale, please? I've never tried it before."

The bartender looked up from what he was doing with a shocked expression. "Well, bless me buttons, Lady, whatever have you been doing your whole life? I mean, well... you're an elf! You've had quite a while to try ale before now, that you have!"

Ithaeliel sighed deeply. "Rather, I'm younger than you may seem to realize, sir. I am only sixty-three years of age; I've not yet the wisdom or the graces of most other elves you may know. I've only drank miruvor before, and there'll be none of that in the Shire, to be sure."

"Miruvor?" the bartender passed Ith her half-pint. "I've barely heard of it. It's elf-wine, isn't it? What's it made of?"

"I've no idea," Ithaeliel replied gloomily before taking a rather undainty swig of ale. She licked the foam off her lips thoughtfully. "This is good stuff, sir. I commend you and those who made it."

"Why, thank ye, m'lady. Do come back for another!" the bartender called as Ithaeliel finished off the glass and went to watch the fireworks spectular.

The entire crowd gasped with awe and glee as a blue cracker shot off into the sky, exploding into thousands of individual blue lights and creating the most starry sky that ever they had seen before bursting and whistling joyfully, showering the guests with blue sparks.

Ithaeliel was laughing amazedly at the fantastic display before she heard a familiar voice shouting nearby. She turned around to see none other than...

"Amanaduial!" Ith cried out as she ran to greet her old friend. "Aman!"

The innkeeper turned around, wringing one hand for some reason and looking irritated. She smiled a little when she saw Ithaeliel. "Oh, hello, Ith! Good to see you!"

Ithaeliel smiled back. "How are things faring for you, dear?"

Aman scowled. "Busy. I've just been looking after some hobbit children... causing quite a lot of mischief, they are. One even bit my hand a minute ago. Goodness, though, they ran off too quickly for me to do a thing!"

"Kids these days..." Ith shook her head in disdain. "Aren't the fireworks wonderful tonight? I never knew Mithrandir could put on such a display!"

[Nerindel]

The two women the elf and the hobbit shared a spirited laugh, which halted abruptly at the sight that presented itself before them. For several moment Nerindel just sat and stared her eyes wide and her mouth hung open in silent disbelief, As a rabble of orc's pushed their way through the crowded party field their mere presence terrifying local's and guests alike.

Suddenly Nerindel's ancient hatred set in and her eyes narrowed as she reached for her sword, which was of course, not there as this was a party and Léspheria and the other elves had informed her that there would be no need for 'orqudagnir', her elvish long sword on this occasion.

"Are you alright my dear?" Hilde's concerned voice broke her intent watch of the newcomer briefly. "No Mrs Bracegridle, I fear I'm not. Like you said, You never know who might show up at these parties with open invitations and these new guests stir a great unrest in my heart." her fey words ended as she again turned her almond eyes suspiciously on the orcish rabble, who fast approached the elven woman with the red hair.

"I'm sure what ever it is; his wrightness and the Elven host Pio will take care of it." Hilde whispered soothingly, trying to elate the elven woman’s growing unrest.

"Perhaps you are right my friend, but my people and theirs have much grievances and I shall not find solace until I know there will be no trouble, if you will excuse me I will return as soon as my fears are rested."

With that, she rose and made her way to where Pio stood, surrounded by a host of orcs.

"Amin dele ten'sen, ye nai na rashwe!" (I am worried about them there may be trouble!) she whispered as she silently came up beside the elven host, she may not be armed but it did not make her any less dangerous should trouble erupt.

[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.

[Kitanna]

Kitanna read Symestreem's note. A piano? Sounded familiar, but then again she couldn't be quite sure. She would have to remember it just incase she ever came across one on her travels.

Kitanna felt as though she had offended Arestevana by mentioning Rohan. So when Symestreem was up getting more pizza Kitanna took the moment to apoligize. "I am sorry if my speaking of Rohan offended you or upset you in any way." She paused a moment thinking of something to add. "But parents from Rivendell? I'd like to claim I have been there before, but that would be one huge lie."

Symestreem returned with more pizza. Kitanna couldn't say she really liked the stuff, but she was fond of the garlic on it. "You really shouldn't eat so much of that Symestreem."