Murder Mysteries Solved!

[Maeggaladiel]

My fellow Downies (Downies? Is that what we barrow-downers are called? I dunno..)

We may all be from different parts of different worlds, of different ages and races and backgrounds, but there is one thing, one precious thing, that unites us as Downies... We are all dead. Whether you are, like me, a humble Newly Deceased, or a wight, or a Ghost Prince, etc., we have all left the realm of the living at one point or another and entered this cold black and green world of the Dead Barrow-Downers. (Barrow-Downies?)

Which brings me to my point. We all know each other, so why keep it a secret? Let us solve the ancient mysteries of our fellow Downers' deaths (Downies' deaths?) How did you enter the realm of the dead? Murder? Orc attack? Balrog battle? Shot by arrows a la Boromir? Freak duct tape accident? Falling into a pit of pointy knitting needles and being sprayed with lemon juice? I want to know! Let us solve the mysteries of our deaths and answer the questions that puny non-Downie (Non-downer?) mortals cannot.

Come on and answer! It won't kill you! Hahaha!

Dead and loving it,
Maeggaladiel!

Breathing is overrated.

[Luthien_ Tinuviel]

I've actually been killed many times. Murdered, mostly. Thanks to all my wonderful friends out there, you know who you are! Especially the incredibly homocidal ones- how did I fall in with such a murderous bunch? So I would assume that I was murdered, and made my way to the Downs to haunt my own little barrow. The real question is, though, who murdered me? Was it a combined effect of being killed so many times? Did I die because I was bitten by the fatal Downslob? Could it have been Tolkien's works themselves that killed me, perhaps by too much study and enjoyment?

[Lady Snickerdoodle]

LOL Maeggaladiel, this is an extremely original thread!
I got into a duel with one of my so called friends. Walk nine paces (no, not 10), turn around and shoot at each other (with bows of course.) But we had to. It was a matter of extreme honor. We got into this huge fight. Lots of insults were exchanged. She said that blue colored smarties do not exist. I said that being Co-Co-president of the Randomness Movement was cooler than being President, which was her position. She said that Topher Grace was hotter than Orlando Bloom. I said that the band Guns n Roses was stupid. She said that Legolas had grey hair and that LOTR was dorky, just as I said that the OC is messed up and fake. So we both shot at the same time... And now we're both here. And her name, Ari Made Me Come Here? That's no joke.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

I joined the ranks of the dead over a year ago. It was my brother's fault really... so sad when family does you in. It was mostly because of jealousy that I died... I was jealous of his knowledge of LotR, and of his association with otherworldy people. I've recently become a murderer myself. Possibly vampyric, as I believe my beyond-the-grave influence to have killed another this very day. He was traversing through the sacred Encyclopaedia of Arda, when I delicately steered him towards the 'Downs.

[symestreem]

Originally Posted by Maeggaladiel

Freak duct tape accident?

Yep... check the avatar.

[Imladris]

One bright day in the middle of the night,
Two questions were posed in auntie’s fright
Frontal Lobe and Tolkien faced each other
And sought but lost each other.
A barrow-wight heard the noise
And came to investigate the question poised.
He took me from home and hearth to Barrow- Downs,
Put a sword ‘cross my neck and in Darkness drowned.
If you don’t believe this tale is true,
Ask the aunt -- she grieves o’er me too.
~~~~~~~
The worms go in the worms go out,
The worms read Tolkien on your snout!

The above is a spoof off the popular children's rhyme that begins "One bright day in the middle of night, two dead boys got up to fight...etc" The second should be fairly obvious.

[Oddwen]

I died laughing, and haven't stopped since.

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

Drowned in Númenor with Tar-Míriel...stuck in Meneltarma...then a fishing trawler - from Preciousss, Inc., methinks - rescued my houseless spirit.

[Sleeping Beauty]

Alas, it was a most silly death. I was looking for the moon one late fall night. It had seem to hidden itself from everyone. It was then on my quest for the moon that I finally saw a few of it's silver rays over a hill when a cow fell out of the sky and onto my being and I was squashed. Curious though that just before I died, I heard fiddle music and I saw a dish running away with a spoon.

[Maeggaladiel]

These are great, you guys! Keep going!

Vilyon, I love your sig! KUNG POW! is one of my favorite movies! I had a quote from it once as my sig ("I'll kill him. I'll kill him dead. Like... with a rock or something. Like a.. like a stone.") but no one got it. ALFALFA!

ORSON!
WELLS!
MAEG!

Killing is bad. And wrong. There should be a new, stronger word for killing. Like... BadWrong. Or Badong. Yes! Killing is badong. I pledge to stand for the opposite of killing.... Gnodab!

[skadork]

well surprisingly enough, my demise was not from multiple head injuries; though i have had WAY too many to count, which may explain a lot, actually.

anyway, i choked on water while laughing one night. oh yes! it is possible!& it's painful, just ask me. laughter & water do not mix well. although, i did spoil everyone fun...you see i know for a fact that they were plotting my death & i took their fun away! AH HA HA HA! evil plan: RUINED!

[Mad Baggins]

Alright. I confess. I was walking down the street one day when my "friend" (quotation marks emphasized) scared the dickens out of me and caused me to run into the brick wall of a house, promptly braining myself. Dee-licious.

[Kransha]

Ah, and thereby hangs a tale.

I remember it as though it was but yesterday, aye....

~Wavy Flashback Lines~

It was but a month or two ago, as my mind recalls. I was atop my noble steed, the legendary porcupig of the Westfold, called Glibbit in the Rohirric tongue, riding through the lovely Nurn Community Park, located in scenic Mordor after its desolation. All was going well and I was content, having just slain a terrible pink Flibbidijibit, but my contentment was shortlived.

You see, I was attacked by band of murderous plot bunnies, beasts of pure pink darkness who seek only to twist the world around them and egg on the Mary-Sues who spawn in the mucous-ridden trails they leave like monstrous, pink snails covered in adorable (so adorable it has to be evil, you know) fuzz. So, I was thus waylaid so cruelly by the bunnies, who flew around me on wings of illogic and, despite my incredible strength, 'smote my ruin upon the mountainside' of clams.

There I lay, feeling the life leave me as I looked up, bemoaning fate, into the sky. As life took its exit, I was reminded of John Donne's famous words, "Ask not for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee." (primarily because there was a big ol' bell tolling right beside me, an unwelcome plot bunny deathday gift). I needed a place to go, free of plot bunnies, Mary-Sues, and the ignorant park-goers who'd dismissed my pink plight. As my soul fled, it pranced happily towards the Barrow-Downs, humming a little ditty about the glories of Shire-manufactured cheese.

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

Hail. My name is Adam, and I'm half a Barrowdowner.

'twas said that Death is stingy, stinging, or something about Sting. Well, yes, I was stung. Stung to Death by some dead guy singing with Sting. Stingy fellow, they say.

I just asked him for a candy. What's wrong with that?

Oh, great. Now my alter-ego makes his own posts!

[Maeggaladiel]

Bravo!

You will surely recieve Downie Awards for your convincing death stories! If not, you'll at least earn yourself a prestigious Maeg Award for best death scenes.

SO- As a just reward for revealing the truths behind your 'mysterious' dissapearances, I present all of you with the White Lily Award for Best Death Scenes!

Bravo! Encore!

MAEG!

[Firefoot]

A rather unfortunate story actually. You see, I was at a sleepover with three of my friends and somehow I ended up hiding behind a wall, waiting for one of my friends to come around the corner so that I could scare them. Well, unfortunately the friend who came around the corner had a broom so that when I screamed she screamed and swung the broom at me. Alas, the broomstroke was fatal and I died that night, and wandered lonely paths until I came to my long home in the Barrowdowns.

And that is at least in part a true story.

[Oddwen]

Of course, I remember! The men of Carn Dûm came on us at night, and we were worsted. Ah! the spear in my heart!

No! No! What am I saying? I have been dreaming.

[galadriel'smaiden]

Hahahahaha.

I....am neither living nor dead. Caught in the realm of the rings. I......want.....to....die.....~!

[Novlamothien]

I was cruely murdered by a schoolmate, he is probably an Easterling in disguise. Anyway, one day I annoyed him too much and he, sadly, strangled me with the 2.59 pounds of pressure needed to strangle me. And now I am in a better place, for he is not here.

Namarie, Cruel world!

[Miriel Undomiel]

Bow to death, 'Downers ... it might even be painless ... I would not know ... I have never died ...

OK, I'm dead now... died again today. I arose from the dead a week ago when my internett got a virus. But now I'm dead again!!!

When my internett was virus-free again, I hit myself in the head with my copy of LotR...

But the first time, I got my head kicked in by some stupid horse... I think its name was Snowmane...

[Finwe]

My death was rather unfortunate, albeit rather heroic. You see, it all started when my son, Fëanor (who I'm sure you all know) created these three glorious jewels known as the Silmarils. All creatures admired them, except for Morgoth, that dastardly piece of rat-scum. He coveted them, and even though they were hallowed by Varda, immensely desired to have them. Oh did I mention, he hated the Valar and all the "good" Ainur. So what this bloke does is he gets chummy with this rather large spider bint named Ungoliant and gets her to suck the Two Trees of Valinor clean of all their sap. They died, and in the resulting darkness, he dashed over to Formenos, where I was at, and proceeded to try and bash his way in. Did I mention that my son was gone? Even though we'd had a big of a falling-out with all those nancing Vanyar, he decided to go anyway. So, this Morgoth chap shows up with a dashed big mace and proceeds to bash his way into the treasury. I, like a good High King of the Noldor (even though I'd officially resigned my title by then), tried to stop him, but I got my skull bashed in by that huge mace, and that is the end of that.

As to how I got here, well, that is quite simple. While I was in the Halls of Mandos, I got a bit of a promotion. No one knows this, but specially privileged people get computer access. While I was surfing the Net for websites about moi, I chanced upon this site and what do you know, I was hooked.

The rest of the story is known to all.

[ElanorGamgee]

*bows to Maeggaladiel*

Yes, glasses do indeed present themselves as willing tools of Darkness more often than one would like to believe, I am afraid. It is nice that I don't need them anymore; that at least is the among the few comforts of being dead. In response to your inquiry into Teddy's fate: well, I can hear him plodding about on top of the barrow from time to time, knocking dirt clods all over my nice bed of treasure, but I don't think it's out of any lingering loyalty to me. You know, I think that we all do a very good job of fertilizing the grass on these hills, if you take my meaning.

[Galadriel55]

I have been heedlessly trodding the paths of the Internet, searching for Boromir and Faramir's dream, when I saw an odd stone standing alone on a hilltop. When I came closer, I realised that lo! next to it is an entrance to the underworld. And, unwarily, I went in to explore. Luckily for me, I never came back out.

[Aganzir]

My screenname means death-love, and that should tell you enough. Sinister things have always fascinated me and I've been courting death from an early age, and it was through suicide that I ended up here.

We should probably also mention my good friend who died some two years before I took the fatal step. I kept hearing her voice, asking me to join her, and seeing her figure far away, as if through a fog. And one autumn night, after a walk to the metro station (to check out trains to jump under), I returned home and locked my door. And then I did things to myself with my knives, which I still keep sharp even though they do no harm to the incorporeal body I now inhabit.

I apologise for the lack of half-eaten body parts and everything else you might connect with me (except the blood, of course), but that's how it happened, and it would be improper to twist the truth to make it sound more interesting.

[Feadhros]

I just don't know how to change from "newly deceased" LOL

[Estelyn Telcontar]

Feadhros, you can read the answer to your question on the FAQ thread.