**The Barrow-Downs Birthday Mailbag - May 2006** - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Estelyn Telcontar · 05-01-2006, 01:44 AM

The young postman looked over his shoulder nervously. He couldn't help feeling as if someone was pursuing him, yet no one could be seen on the meadow that stretched back to the edge of the forest. He no longer wanted to remember the forest; it had seemed to him that the trees were alive, mocking him and moving in too close for comfort. It had taken him more time than he had planned to go around it instead of through the middle, but he was glad he had made that choice.

Why, oh why had he been assigned this route? The colleague who normally delivered the mail in this section had never before been ill. Yet this morning, while sorting out the letters, he had suddenly turned pale, and someone else had to take over. Just as suddenly, all the others were very busy, and only he, the newest of them, was left to fill in. At first he had thought himself lucky - it was a beautiful, sunny day; he had a pony cart to drive; and the recipients were friendly and happy to see him.

But now the sun was sinking toward the horizon, and he had one huge, heavy bag of mail to deliver to the last stop on the route. He couldn't help wondering why someone of whom he hadn't heard before would get so much mail, but then, that was none of his business. He only had to get it there, and then he could hurry home as fast as the pony and cart would take him.

"Just straight on over the Downs toward the hills," his boss had told him, "you can't miss it. There's a tall stone near the entrance." It was hard to see details in the gloom of the long shadows cast by the mountains, and to top it off, a mist was spreading like a blanket. But he could recognize a pillar that towered high above all other landmarks and steered the cart in its direction.

He almost ran into the standing stone, so thick was the fog on the Barrow-Downs when he arrived there. He shivered in the cold and the darkness which surrounded him. "Is anyone here?" he called out nervously.

Suddenly a deep, cold voice spoke: "Here! I am waiting for you!"

Now even the normally placid pony was nervous and strained at the reins, attempting to turn and run away. Yet the postman's spirit was more valiant than he himself had known, and he held it back firmly with one hand while heaving the heavy mailbag out of the cart with the other.

"Here's your mail, Sir!" he announced.

A pale, ghastly green hand appeared from nowhere to pick up the bag. "Thank you!" the voice answered.

The mailman turned the cart and loosened the reins. The pony needed no further encouragement and trotted away as fast as its legs could take it. Yet its driver held his head high. Neither rain, nor fog, nor fear had hindered him - he had done his duty and delivered the mail.

Had he been able to look inside the Barrow behind him, he could have seen the Wight lighting a candle and opening the mailbag. It was full to the brim with cards, letters, and packages. He took out the first one and opened the envelope, and this is what he read:

Hookbill the Goomba · 05-01-2006, 01:55 AM

"To our Lord Wight,

Six Years, eh? Well I never. Feels like six thousand, but then again, being dead, time is not really our strong point. One day runs into another and before you know it ten thousand centuries have passed by.

We've seen running jokes, driving Mountains, Werewolves, Bombadill and Balrogs. I'm sure old Professor Tolkien would give you a big pat on the back and a fill of his tobacco. Well done, Lord Wight of the Barrow Downs.

The ever un-inebriated,
Hookbill the Goomba. "

And now a pictorial concoction.

Taralphiel · 05-01-2006, 04:43 AM

The next card, hand-drawn with a good deal of care, showed a simple greeting on its cover.

Inside, the card read -

" To the Great Lord Wight,

Many a warm return on your sixth birthday! Though I was not around for the moment of its 'death', I have been a lurker for many a day after. Just shy over four years I have roleplayed, quizzed and been quizzed, and sometimes even discussed things pertaining to this great Middle Earth.

I give you thanks for a wonderful haven. Though dead, I have enjoyed living every day here! I hope there are many more for you, and for the wonderful capers on The Downs.

Sincerely,

Taralphiel

"

Feanor of the Peredhil · 05-01-2006, 07:32 AM

A mere letter contained the following in a flowing script most definately not belonging to the usually illegible Fea; it was obvious that she had dictated it's composition so that the illustrius Barrow-Wight would actually be able to read it:

In seeing how this lovely barrow has grown and flourished under your supervision, I suspect that you are either exceptionally proud, like a many-children'd father rather early in the day before he becomes exhausted by them, or a bit nervous, like a many-inmate'd prison warden rather late in the day, long after he's become resigned to them.

May this birthday of your creation amuse you, and may the day, with or without affectionate letters, be one full of adventure and good drink and good friends, as all good days are wont to include.

Regards,
Feanor of the Peredhil

Hilde Bracegirdle · 05-01-2006, 10:59 AM

A parcel lay among the many cards and notes. It was wrapped carefully in the yellowed remnants of a bird watcher’s field guide, who, along with its owner, had gone astray some many years ago. And now the eye of a finch stared fixedly through the shifting contents of the mail bag.

Inside the box, in a plastic sack, was what appeared to be a slice of cake, its sweet green icing caking the bag quite thoroughly. And beside this tribute lay a Polaroid photo as well a note written in a lacy script. The photo was dim, but if one squinted as they held it under a strong light, the cake intact could be seen, lit by a solitary candle. A smiling and matronly hobbit was seated primly behind it, (dressed in the appropriate white and with golden circlet about her head). Behind the hobbit the very faintest pallor of a wight could be seen in the gloom, solemnly holding aloft a gleaming blade over the green delicacy.

The enclosed note read thusly:

“Cake for the great and august Barrow-Wight, in celebration and honor of this, the anniversary of six glorious years on-line!

And with deeply felt gratitude for the construction of this Virtual Hall, in which all the wights, young and old, that are scattered to the four corners of Arda, may meet and ponder former days.

Best wishes for many years to come!

Yours humbly,
Hilde Bracegirdle and company”

Farael · 05-01-2006, 11:09 AM

Just a few months ago I stumbled, tired and road-weary into your domains. The sun was a high sphere held in mid-air and the stone of your barrow was fresh, cool to the touch. As most people tend to do in such situations, I fell asleep, only to wake up inside the barrow. You know, the usual proceedure, then I figured I'd sing a little tune and some old man with crazy coloured clothing would come to the rescue. Yet the barrow was dark, warm and snug and the first thing I realized was that this place seemed to be a gathering ground for those with similar interests as me. Well... to be honest, the first thing I realized (and was rather disapointed by) was that I was not dressed in fancy clothing nor I had an elven dagger. But after that, I pulled up a chair to where other barrow-residents were talking and jumped into the conversation.

Since then, I have argued literature, some rather philosophical points as well as middle-earth science (why don't elves sink in snow? is it possible for a man running fast to run on snow making very little imprint of his steps?). Then I found myself in a village infested by werewolves, or was it heroes the first time around? Not to mention giving birth to two rather lovely fellows who have plenty of stories to tell. All of that would not have been possible without the 'downs and for that I thank thee.

Finally, I would like to congratulate you on not only producing a top-notch forum and for being able to lure in and keep the best group of posters I have seen. Here's for the Barrow Downs, the Barrow Wight, the group of Mods and last but not least, the posters without whom this site would only be an empty shell.

For six times six more years!!!

Celuien · 05-01-2006, 03:30 PM

A new card slipped out of the Barrow-Downs letter pile:

The front cover was a simple photo and caption:

"The Road Goes Ever On and On..."

The card opened to reveal a greeting to the mighty Barrow-Wight in celebration of his site.

Greetings, Barrow-Wight! Congratulations on six wonderful years on the Downs. I have been here for only one year (one year today, as a matter of fact!), but what a wonderful year it has been.

Thank you for running a truly wonderful site. Thanks as well to the excellent mods who help keep the boards organized and troll-free.

As the Road goes on, may the years go on as well, filled with more fellowship and discussion. And may it never end!

With all best wishes,
Celuien

05-01-2006, 01:44 AM	#1
Estelyn Telcontar Princess of Skwerlz Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: where the Sea is eastwards (WtR: 6060 miles) Posts: 7,499	The Barrow-Downs Birthday Mailbag - May 2006 The young postman looked over his shoulder nervously. He couldn't help feeling as if someone was pursuing him, yet no one could be seen on the meadow that stretched back to the edge of the forest. He no longer wanted to remember the forest; it had seemed to him that the trees were alive, mocking him and moving in too close for comfort. It had taken him more time than he had planned to go around it instead of through the middle, but he was glad he had made that choice. Why, oh why had he been assigned this route? The colleague who normally delivered the mail in this section had never before been ill. Yet this morning, while sorting out the letters, he had suddenly turned pale, and someone else had to take over. Just as suddenly, all the others were very busy, and only he, the newest of them, was left to fill in. At first he had thought himself lucky - it was a beautiful, sunny day; he had a pony cart to drive; and the recipients were friendly and happy to see him. But now the sun was sinking toward the horizon, and he had one huge, heavy bag of mail to deliver to the last stop on the route. He couldn't help wondering why someone of whom he hadn't heard before would get so much mail, but then, that was none of his business. He only had to get it there, and then he could hurry home as fast as the pony and cart would take him. "Just straight on over the Downs toward the hills," his boss had told him, "you can't miss it. There's a tall stone near the entrance." It was hard to see details in the gloom of the long shadows cast by the mountains, and to top it off, a mist was spreading like a blanket. But he could recognize a pillar that towered high above all other landmarks and steered the cart in its direction. He almost ran into the standing stone, so thick was the fog on the Barrow-Downs when he arrived there. He shivered in the cold and the darkness which surrounded him. "Is anyone here?" he called out nervously. Suddenly a deep, cold voice spoke: "Here! I am waiting for you!" Now even the normally placid pony was nervous and strained at the reins, attempting to turn and run away. Yet the postman's spirit was more valiant than he himself had known, and he held it back firmly with one hand while heaving the heavy mailbag out of the cart with the other. "Here's your mail, Sir!" he announced. A pale, ghastly green hand appeared from nowhere to pick up the bag. "Thank you!" the voice answered. The mailman turned the cart and loosened the reins. The pony needed no further encouragement and trotted away as fast as its legs could take it. Yet its driver held his head high. Neither rain, nor fog, nor fear had hindered him - he had done his duty and delivered the mail. Had he been able to look inside the Barrow behind him, he could have seen the Wight lighting a candle and opening the mailbag. It was full to the brim with cards, letters, and packages. He took out the first one and opened the envelope, and this is what he read:

05-01-2006, 01:55 AM	#2
Hookbill the Goomba Alive without breath Join Date: Jan 2003 Location: On A Cold Wind To Valhalla Posts: 5,912	A toast! To... erm... Toast! "To our Lord Wight, Six Years, eh? Well I never. Feels like six thousand, but then again, being dead, time is not really our strong point. One day runs into another and before you know it ten thousand centuries have passed by. We've seen running jokes, driving Mountains, Werewolves, Bombadill and Balrogs. I'm sure old Professor Tolkien would give you a big pat on the back and a fill of his tobacco. Well done, Lord Wight of the Barrow Downs. The ever un-inebriated, Hookbill the Goomba. " And now a pictorial concoction. __________________ I think that if you want facts, then The Downer Newspaper is probably the place to go. I know! I read it once. THE PHANTOM AND ALIEN: The Legend of the Golden Bus Ticket...

05-01-2006, 04:43 AM	#3
Taralphiel Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Apr 2002 Location: Swan Wood Posts: 649	The next card, hand-drawn with a good deal of care, showed a simple greeting on its cover. Inside, the card read - " To the Great Lord Wight, Many a warm return on your sixth birthday! Though I was not around for the moment of its 'death', I have been a lurker for many a day after. Just shy over four years I have roleplayed, quizzed and been quizzed, and sometimes even discussed things pertaining to this great Middle Earth. I give you thanks for a wonderful haven. Though dead, I have enjoyed living every day here! I hope there are many more for you, and for the wonderful capers on The Downs. Sincerely, Taralphiel " Last edited by Taralphiel; 05-01-2006 at 08:46 PM.

05-01-2006, 07:32 AM	#4
Feanor of the Peredhil La Belle Dame sans Merci Join Date: Feb 2003 Location: perpetual uncertainty Posts: 5,517	A mere letter contained the following in a flowing script most definately not belonging to the usually illegible Fea; it was obvious that she had dictated it's composition so that the illustrius Barrow-Wight would actually be able to read it: In seeing how this lovely barrow has grown and flourished under your supervision, I suspect that you are either exceptionally proud, like a many-children'd father rather early in the day before he becomes exhausted by them, or a bit nervous, like a many-inmate'd prison warden rather late in the day, long after he's become resigned to them. May this birthday of your creation amuse you, and may the day, with or without affectionate letters, be one full of adventure and good drink and good friends, as all good days are wont to include. Regards, Feanor of the Peredhil __________________ peace

05-01-2006, 10:59 AM	#5
Hilde Bracegirdle Relic of Wandering Days Join Date: Dec 2002 Location: You'll See Perpetual Change. Posts: 1,480	A parcel lay among the many cards and notes. It was wrapped carefully in the yellowed remnants of a bird watcher’s field guide, who, along with its owner, had gone astray some many years ago. And now the eye of a finch stared fixedly through the shifting contents of the mail bag. Inside the box, in a plastic sack, was what appeared to be a slice of cake, its sweet green icing caking the bag quite thoroughly. And beside this tribute lay a Polaroid photo as well a note written in a lacy script. The photo was dim, but if one squinted as they held it under a strong light, the cake intact could be seen, lit by a solitary candle. A smiling and matronly hobbit was seated primly behind it, (dressed in the appropriate white and with golden circlet about her head). Behind the hobbit the very faintest pallor of a wight could be seen in the gloom, solemnly holding aloft a gleaming blade over the green delicacy. The enclosed note read thusly: “Cake for the great and august Barrow-Wight, in celebration and honor of this, the anniversary of six glorious years on-line! And with deeply felt gratitude for the construction of this Virtual Hall, in which all the wights, young and old, that are scattered to the four corners of Arda, may meet and ponder former days. Best wishes for many years to come! Yours humbly, Hilde Bracegirdle and company” Last edited by Hilde Bracegirdle; 05-02-2006 at 04:11 AM.

05-01-2006, 11:09 AM	#6
Farael Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Nov 2005 Location: In hospitals, call rooms and (rarely) my apartment. Posts: 1,538	To my esteemed Mr. Barrow Wight Just a few months ago I stumbled, tired and road-weary into your domains. The sun was a high sphere held in mid-air and the stone of your barrow was fresh, cool to the touch. As most people tend to do in such situations, I fell asleep, only to wake up inside the barrow. You know, the usual proceedure, then I figured I'd sing a little tune and some old man with crazy coloured clothing would come to the rescue. Yet the barrow was dark, warm and snug and the first thing I realized was that this place seemed to be a gathering ground for those with similar interests as me. Well... to be honest, the first thing I realized (and was rather disapointed by) was that I was not dressed in fancy clothing nor I had an elven dagger. But after that, I pulled up a chair to where other barrow-residents were talking and jumped into the conversation. Since then, I have argued literature, some rather philosophical points as well as middle-earth science (why don't elves sink in snow? is it possible for a man running fast to run on snow making very little imprint of his steps?). Then I found myself in a village infested by werewolves, or was it heroes the first time around? Not to mention giving birth to two rather lovely fellows who have plenty of stories to tell. All of that would not have been possible without the 'downs and for that I thank thee. Finally, I would like to congratulate you on not only producing a top-notch forum and for being able to lure in and keep the best group of posters I have seen. Here's for the Barrow Downs, the Barrow Wight, the group of Mods and last but not least, the posters without whom this site would only be an empty shell. For six times six more years!!! __________________ I prepared Explosive Runes this morning.

05-01-2006, 03:30 PM	#7
Celuien Riveting Ribbiter Join Date: May 2005 Location: Assigned to Mordor Posts: 1,767	A new card slipped out of the Barrow-Downs letter pile: The front cover was a simple photo and caption: "The Road Goes Ever On and On..." The card opened to reveal a greeting to the mighty Barrow-Wight in celebration of his site. Greetings, Barrow-Wight! Congratulations on six wonderful years on the Downs. I have been here for only one year (one year today, as a matter of fact!), but what a wonderful year it has been. Thank you for running a truly wonderful site. Thanks as well to the excellent mods who help keep the boards organized and troll-free. As the Road goes on, may the years go on as well, filled with more fellowship and discussion. And may it never end! With all best wishes, Celuien __________________ People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect. But actually, from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint, it's more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey... stuff. Last edited by Celuien; 05-01-2006 at 07:34 PM.