The Barrow-Downs' Third Birthday Party and Downie Awards

[Mithadan]

The Grand Hall in Minas Anor was lit in a subdued fashion but was nonetheless the focus of much activity. Fabrics and banners were being draped upon the walls and a veritable spider's web of wiring ran from and across the stage. A small army of men and women were sweeping the floors and dusting the fixtures. An undercurrent of barely controlled panic ran through the room.

In a corner, around a conference table, sat several people speaking in loud voices, punctuated by wild gestures. At the head of the table sat member number 4. He shuffled through reams of paper and flipped through a pile of pads as the others spoke. His blue jeans looked as if he had slept in them and his gold t-shirt bore coffee stains and a small yellow post-it note which read "kick me".

"Mith," said one of the frantic managers. "Our lead act called. She says that she wants Lembas and Miruvor in her dressing room or she's not coming."

Mithadan glared at the worker. "Galadriel is the only one who knows how to make Lembas and she...is...in...VALINOR!" he shouted. "Call up our artist and tell her that, and remind her that she is under contract. Wait. Better yet, tell her fine, maybe we'll see her next year."

He picked up a cell phone and dialed a number rapidly. "George?" he said. "Its Mith. Yeah, I'm doing great. How's the kids? Good, good. Listen George, we'd like to move you up to open the show. Hmmm? OK, let me write this down. Jack Daniels, Jim Beam, Black and Red, Budweiser? OK, done. Just come an hour early for the sound check. Yeah. Ciao to you too dude."

An Elf spoke next. "Bywater Fabrics called," she said. "They have no red carpet. We called Pelargir Carpet and Tile and they sent over this sample." She handed over a swatch.

Mithadan groaned. "This is not red," he snapped. "This is burgundy. We need red. Who ever heard of an awards show without a red carpet?"

The speakers crackled to life. "Check, check. Two, two, two..." Then a lively tune began playing. On the stage, a line of Dwarves began dancing under the ministrations of a blonde Elf who was moving in time with the dancers. "...and one, and two, and spin..." A blue bearded Dwarf tripped on an electric cord and toppled over, knocking over three of her...his...her companions. "No, no, no!" screamed the Elf. "To the left, the left!" A klieg light crashed to the stage. The Elf turned to Mithadan, causing his impeccably coiffed hair to wave attractively. "I can't work like this," he screamed. "You promised me professionals!" Mithadan smiled and nodded. Under his breath, he said "Shut up Vogonwë."

A soldier wearing the black and silver livery of the tower ran up. "Mithadan?" he asked. Member number 4 nodded. The guard passed over a letter, then spoke. "The Hobbiton Garden Club is threatening to protest unless a retraction is run about Marileangorifurnimaluim's 'Hobbit Sex Ed' article. They are threatening violence..." At that moment, an explosion was heard. Through one of the windows, a plume of smoke could be seen and chanting could be heard. "Unfair to Hobbits, Unfair to Hobbits...!"

A second guard ran up. "Mister Mithadan, sir," he said. "The King would like to...see you...immediately."

Mithadan covered his face with his hands and slumped in his chair. "I am never, ever doing this again..." he muttered. He looked up at the wrecked stage and the line of people waiting to speak with him. Then he shook his head and reached for a bottle of aspirin. "I can't believe the show is in three days..."

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry pushed some of her hair out of her face and succeeded only in smudging her cheek with dirt. She tried to pile more leaves into the paper recycling bag, but the wind blew them back into her face and onto the garden bed from which she had just raked them. This wasn't working. Perhaps she should simply try to do one job at a time.

Frowning as the leaves scattered further, she sat at the table, doodling over the writing pad in a way she had not done since, well, since she had stopped writing longhand and used WordPerfect.


"Now there was a misnomer if ever there was one," she thought. "WordPerfect. The awards and the speeches will never be word perfect in time." She briefly wondered about creating a Most Cunningly Shrewd Delegator and Taskmaster Award for Mithadan but then decided that he would enjoy such an award too much. "Maybe the Kick Me Award would be more fitting. Except he probably already thought that one up himself," she said aloud to the squirrels who were digging up her tulip bulbs.

Member Number 3145 looked down at her list of nominees and their claim to infamy. "Most obnoxious poster," "Fastest Delete Record," 'Most Outrageous Spelling Atrocities," "Not Another Elf Character Award," "Go Get Contacts; We're tired of Green Eyes."
She sighed. There were too many candidates for the "I haven't read all this thread yet" award. And this wasn't getting the real list done; there were too many Downers whose posts she really loved and admired. It was going to be a long ceremony. She hoped Mithadan would have enough wine at the tables. Then she remembered.

The caterers. She had forgotten. Bucklebury TakeAway could not do tofu, tempeh or meatless dishes. Neither would Anduin Seafood Savouries or Brandywine Edibles.

She pulled out her cellphone and rang up the Lorien Salad Queen Deli. "Hi, Sally, Beth here. Yeah, I'm great. Listen, I've got a last minute request. We need appetizers and mains for about two hundred. Vegetarian. For May 1st. Can you do it?" Member Number 3145 frowned at the news and silently cursed. Salads only. Sally gave her two other numbers to ring. Ruffage Restaurant and The Prancing Vegetarian. Bethberry chose the latter; she'd eaten there several times; it was worth a try. The cellphone rang and she began, "Hey, Vinnie,..."

[Mithadan]

Piosenniel's Post

'I don't suppose we're allowed to bite anyone, are
we?'

Carchmoroth raised his head languidly from his crossed
paws and regarded his son for a moment. His yellow
eyes flicked to where Pio stood shoving her leotard in
her bag. 'If it were up to me, I'd say yes, but
you'ld better ask her.'

'No violence in the Hall, sweets.' came the reply.
'The admins won't like it.' She turned and grinned at
the despondent Warg. 'However, once they've left the
building, they're fair game.'

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+ *+*

The Shire taxi service picked her up precisely at 3.
She took her laptop with her on the long ride. There
were 3 new RPG's to be put on the board and the mad
dutchman's was still in revision.

+++ Email to Mithadan: I wasn't kidding about that
cruise. I think it should be a perq for the mods. ~~
Pio +++

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+ *+*

'We're here, Miss.' Halfred Whitfoot opened the door
and fished her equipment bag from the trunk. 'Pick me
up at 9, then,' she said counting out 5 silver pennies
into his outstretched hand.

'Come, gentlemen,' she said over her shoulder to the
two great Wolves, who loped along silently behind her.
'We've got five hours today to whip those dancers into
shape.'

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+ *+*

[b]. . . 5 . snap! . 6 . snap! . a - 5 -
6 - 7 - 8 . . .[/i]

Pio put the Halfling chorus line through their paces.
They weren't perfect, but that could be solved by an
open bar as the guests entered. That and lowering the
lights.

The two Wolves sat in the shadows of the stage
curtain, ticking off the toothsome qualities of each
of the dancers. The smell of sweat and cheap
perfume mingled pleasurably in their nostrils.

'Should be nice and tired after the performance, don't
you think?' Dúgoroth looked approvingly at Pio as she
pushed the dancers through their routine again.

'Yesss,' said Carchmoroth, grinning a toothsome smile.
His sharp, yellowed fangs glinted in the harsh stage
light. 'Perhaps we should wait by the stage door after
their last number.' He curled his lips back in a wider
grin as on of the Hobbits tripped over her partner.
'That one's mine!' he growled low, watching her wince
as her ample ankle bent under her weight.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+ *+*

'Take 5!'

The dancers slumped to the floor in unison, muttering
under their breath. Pio shrugged off the comments, she
was used to them from her time in the Shire. Wiping
her brow with a towel, she walked over to where the
wolves sat, and plopped down beside them.

'Did you notice the carpet he's ordered, Pio?'
Carchmoroth nudged her arm with his muzzle, pointing
to the rolls of carpet ready to lay out on the runway.

'Mmmm . . . blood red, eh?! Right up your alley.' She
scratched the grizzled brow of the great beast beside
her, and took a long pull at her water bottle.
'Outside the building, though. Agreed?'

'Agreed,' came the reluctant reply, as she rose and
whistled sharply for the dancers to line up again.
'One more hour, ladies and gentlemen! And I'll have
you hoofing like Fosse . . .'

By the One! The budget for this party can't be that
small. Where did Mithadan find these rejects . . .
?!

[Mithadan]

"OK,3..2..1..we're live."

[Cut to camera 1 -- Newscaster behind desk]

"Good morning and welcome to the Channel 3 News. I'm Borodil, and today's top story focuses on the upcoming Downie Award Show. Just two days away and the Downies have hit their first major speed bump...one which threatens to upset the cart. The Hobbiton Garden Club, angry over a controversial article written by prominent Barrow-Downer, Dr. Marileangorifurnimaluim, entitled 'Hobbit Sex Ed' has organized a protest against the Downies, and threats of violence have been acted upon."

[cut to video clip of a small structure in flames surrounded by protesters]

"Yesterday, an explosive device was detonated in a Porta-Potty erected by Downies' workers. No one was hurt, although it was rumored that a Moderator was in the Potty just moments before the explosion. In addition, threats have been made upon the life of Marileangorifurnimaluim, who has reportedly gone into hiding. The King wasted no time in responding."

[cut to video of the King's Public Minister]

Minister: "The King has instructed Awards Show staff to secure additional security in order to ensure the safety of citizens and guests..."

[cut to Borodil]

"The security contingent arrived this morning and it appears that Mithadan has made a controversial selection of security agencies..."

[cut to video of the main gate of Minas Anor; citizens are fleeing the area shrieking as a column of Orcs mounted on Wargs enters the city chanting as they ride]

"Oh, we are the Uruks,
the Mighty, Mighty Uruks.
And everywhere we go,
people want to know,
who we are,
where we come from..."

[cut to Borodil]

"The captain of the security contingent, Gravlox Uruk, assures this reporter that the peace will be maintained."

[cut to close-up of Gravlox, a typically ugly Orc]

"We are here to provide a strong and visible security presence for the ceremony. (smiles toothily, exhibiting yellowish fangs) We don't anticipate trouble, but if the need arises, we are prepared to act quickly and effectively..."

[cut to Borodil]

"Additional security measures will be taken as well."

[cut to a very harried looking Mithadan]

"We will require all guests to check and surrender their weapons upon entering the Great Hall without exception. Only the security contingent and Barrow-Downs staff will be allowed to carry weapons. (close up of Mithadan's sword)"

[cut to Borodil]

"Will these precautions be enough to salvage the show? Only time will tell..."

[Mithadan]

Child of the 7th Age's post

Cami glanced up from her work and audibly sighed. She saw Mithadan fiddling yet again with his microphone as it gave off another high pitched squeal, causing everyone to grimace and plug their ears. She could never understand why the Big Folk were so enamored of their infernally complicated machines. Machines to play music, machines to wake up people who would be better off sleeping, even machines to carry Men from place to place, so they couldn't enjoy a civilized stroll. Cami swore Men spent more time with machines than they did with each other. She gave Mithadan a lingering look of pity and then went on with her list of of chores, checking them off one at a time.

As was often the case for such gatherings, her own people had been assigned the less desirable tasks. Hobbits scurried everywhere emptying trash barrels and disposing of other objects that the Big Folk no longer needed. Ever since the Ring quest, they'd been particularly in demand for services of that type. Mithadan had also given Cami the unenviable job of coming up with some menu alternatives for the Orcs and Balrogs, who were expected to attend in considerable numbers. Despite her best efforts, even Bethberry had failed to secure suitable provisions for either group from Bucklebury's Takeaway or The Prancing Vegetarian. As Cami caught sight of the large, unsightly Wargs who had accompanied Piosenniel to the party, she wondered if either of them could be persuaded to do a bit of hunting on the side to come up with something that Orcs might find palatable.

A flash of color caught Cami's eye, as she gazed out the window. The smoke and haze from the earlier explosion had finally lifted. Several friends from the Shire were still outside protesting Maril's most recent fiasco. But who was that behind them? The hobbit gasped in disbelief. No one, not even the Admins with all their wisdom, had anticipated anything like this.

Cami scurried over to Piosenniel, being careful to step around the slavering Wargs, and tugged insistently at the Elf's sleeve, "Please, come. One of us must warn Mithadan." She looked up beseechingly and pointed to a distant bevy of fair maidens who were striding onward atop high-spirited stallions. Each maid carried a long pointed spear in her right hand and a prominent sign in her left. The signs boldly proclaimed "Mithadan Unfair to Shield-Maidens," "Daughters of Rohan Unite," and "We Demand a Fair Share of RPGs." Cami gulped nervously and met Pio's eyes, wondering what their friends in the Green Dragon would think.

[Mithadan]

"...the Shield-Maidens?" shouted Mithadan. "What's their gripe?"

Cami avoided Mithadan's glare and answered quietly. "We construe 'Sheild-Maiden' as a term unique to the Rohirrim and don't allow Elvish Shield-Maidens. We also discourage the warrior princess persona as cliche."

"What next?" he sighed, rolling his eyes.

"The Half-Elves..." murmured Cami.

"What!" demanded Mithadan.

"We consider Half-Elves to be very rare in Middle-Earth, notwithstanding that Piosenniel is one, and don't allow them..."

Mithadan laid his head on the table with a groan. "I don't believe this," he muttered. Cami shuffled her feet uncomfortably and cleared her throat. He looked up at her reluctantly.

"The Canonites are also protesting that 98.7% of our RPGs are not Canon faithful and that we allowed a parody..."

Mithadan gritted his teeth, then fixed her with an icy stare. "Tell Lindil that if he wants us to provide space for his Translations from Elvish project he better rein his people in. And have security keep an eye on the other two groups."

"We did," said Cami uncomfortably. "The Shield-Maidens hung an Orc from a flagpole by his underwear...which leads me to this lawsuit..." She handed him a ream of papers. He thumbed through them quickly and his mouth dropped open. "Inadequate security for the security?"

Cami passed over another stack of papers. "And also there's this petition from someone who calls himself Chewbacca..."

[Mithadan]

Mithadan looked through the window overlooking the red carpet. Crowds of onlookers pressed close to the security lines on either side of the entryway. On the sidewalk stood a line of Uruks and Wargs, interspersed with a half dozen Olog-Hai who had been retained at the last minute to supplement the security force. The street was cordoned off and He could see a line of limousines, carts and horses forming at the far end. Across the street stood a second security line of black and silver clad Guards of the Tower. Beyond them, the protesters yelled and waved their placards.

He turned to Piosenniel, Cami and Bethberry with a rueful smile. “This is as good as its gonna get,” he said. “Let’s roll!”

Moving his mike in front of his lips, he said, “Cue spotlights.” Outside, the massive banks of spotlights lit up and began rotating. From the crowd came a rousing cheer. “Cue runway lights,” he added. Over the red carpet, many lights flickered and came on. He turned to the Mods. “Let’s go!”

They moved quickly down the stairs and headed to the door, inspecting the uniformed ushers and wait staff as they went. 20 yards from the door…”Open the cordon and let traffic in.” 15 yards from the door… “Cue music!” Outside the loudspeakers came to life and the lyrics began just as they reached the doorway.

I'm comin' up so you better you better get this party started
I'm comin' up so you better you better get this party started

Get this party started on a Saturday night
Everybody's waitin' for me to arrive
Sendin' out the message to all of my friends
We'll be lookin' flashy in my Mercedes Benz
I got lotsa style, got my gold diamond rings
I can go for miles if you know what I mean
I'm comin' up so you better you better get this party started
I'm comin' up so you better you better get this party started

Pumpin up the volume, breakin down' to the beat
Cruisin' through the west side
We'll be checkin' the scene
Boulevard is freakin' as I'm comin' up fast
I'll be burnin' rubber, you'll be kissin' my a**
Pull up to the bumper, get out of the car
License plate says Stunner #1 Superstar

I'm comin' up so you better you better get this party started
I'm comin' up so you better you better get this party started
Get this party started

Mithadan paused at the door to check his outfit. He smoothed his grey velvet jerkin and the white ruffled shirt beneath it. Then he examined his royal blue breeches for Warg hair and the shine of his new black boots. Looking up at his companions, he nodded and said, “Let’s go! Ladies first!”

The cheers were thunderous as Cami, Piosenniel and Bethberry stepped out onto the red carpet. He followed them with a wave and a smile for the cameras, which were now rolling.
----------------------
“Good day, this is Cathy Lee and with me is Joan and we’re coming to you from this year’s Downie Awards. In minutes the guests will be arriving…and there are the Barrow-Downs’ staff coming out from the hall to greet the guests!”

“Oh no,” barked Joan. “Look at Mithadan’s outfit. That jacket is just so last year. And his pants are too tight, hasn’t anyone told him that baggy is in? It leaves more to the imagination…”

“Here comes the first Limo, Joan,” said Cathy Lee. The valet opened the door and the crowd hushed for a moment. Then out popped a small grayish-brown animal, which stood up on its rear legs and waved. “Oooo, its none other than the Desert Skwerl himself, Mr. Underhill!”

“Yes, Cathy,” said Joan. “Stylish as always. You know it’s never too warm for fur.”
-------------------------
Mithadan’s earphone came alive even as he shook Underhill’s paw. “Sir,” said the voice. “The music…”

“Sounds fine to me,” responded Mithadan.

“Not the sound, sir. It’s the Orcs…. they’re dancing…”

[Annunfuiniel]

Four horses, black as night, passed the end of the red carpet. A carriage of the same colour followed…and followed…and followed… Flashlights started to sparkle and the Commentator began enthusiastically:

"Ladies and gentlemen, good evening and Welcome to our live show from the third annual Barrow-Downs Birthday Party and the Downie Awards! And what a splendid start we have, look at that Limo! I think we all know who arrives in such a style…"

The carriage stopped and a man in Gondor’s guard uniform opened its (last) door while the security Uruks tried to keep the curious folk in order. A rapturous sigh rose from the crowd and even the protesting Hobbits and Shield-maidens and Half-Elves forgot their slogans and indeed the frustrated Canonites stood in awe as a red high-heeled shoe and skirts of ruby red gown emerged from the wagon. "Eeeee!! Annun! We love you!" cries could be heard from the audience and someone tried to cross the security fence: but the guards knew their job and the rabid fan-boy got thwacked down by a nasty looking Uruk: "Eeeee-…"

"Wow! Look at that nec…I mean dress! Mistress Annunfuiniel has done it again! No question who shall adorn all the covers of tomorrow’s papers! But wait, she’s not alone…"

Annunfuiniel stepped elegantly down to the red carpet her almost black hair sparkling with rubies. She stood there greeting the spectators with an adorable smile and waited for her escort to come out from the carriage. When she felt the man standing beside her she hissed from behind her perfect white teeth "Smile and wave to the crowd!" Then she remembered to add "Wave, don’t do the wave!" Smile still on her face she continued "Now take my hand and behave yourself." Annunfuiniel took a look at her date. 'So handsome and boastful and…oh so witless!' she sighed 'Trust your maid and this is what happens! I knew I should have checked the backgrounds of that dating service myself…'

"What a beautiful…no…dazzling couple! Now I’m really hoping to get an interview with Miss A. later this evening! I believe you don’t want to miss that so please: Stay tuned!"

Another sigh and Annunfuiniel reached the front door, dragging her escort who was not at all willing to leave his place in the spotlight. 'Let the bar be already open...', she made a silent prayer.

[Cuthalion]

"Hello and Welcome to the Third Annual Barrowdowns Birthday Bash and First
Annual Downie Awards! Mouth of Sauron here for METV and everyone/thing who is anyone/thing is here! The paparazzi are going
wild as the members of the Downs begin arriving on the Red Carpet. And who is this I see? A magnificent black stallion has just cantered into view. Ah! It's Cuthalion, with the beautiful Maikadilwen in his arms. The elegant Paso Fino stallion is tacked out in a black leather bridle covered with hundreds of silver bells.

Cuthalion has dismounted and is now assisting Maika down. They are both dressed in black. He in tight-fitting black leather pants and thigh-high black boots, with a black silk tunic open at the front. And look at Maika! *Quick, Gorbag! Get me her number! She is dressed in a molded black leather bodice and a long skirt of blood-red silk with a black chiffon over-lay. She's also wearing what I am told is one of her favourite necklaces, a blood-stone on a delicate silver chain that nestles rather...provocatively in her decolletage...ahem! They both have matching silver circlets on their brows. Must be a nod to Elrond.


This couple should create quite a buzz! I've heard a rumour that they're sweet-hearts! We'll be sure the keep an Eye on them!"

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Cuthalion ]

[Child of the 7th Age]

Cami's moment of glory was very short lived. Within a moment of stepping off the carpet, she was greeted by her husband Maura who had just come back from a hard day of fighting Orcs in Mirkwood. His clothes were torn and stained, his face haggard and tense, as he reached a hand out to his blood-splattered sword.

"I'm sorry Cami, but you're going to have to leave."

"Leave? I just got here. What are you talking about?"

Maura nervously eyed the Orcs who were dancing up on stage and explained that this was not the kind of place he wanted his wife to be. "I'm sorry, but it's too dangerous. You'll have to come home."

Cami turned on him and fiercely glared. “How can I leave? I’ve been working on the preparations for a whole week now. Mithadan expects me to help. He'll have a fit if I don’t stay. Anyways, you’re being ungrateful. You wouldn’t even exist if it weren’t for the Barrow-downs birthday party.”

Maura sighed and shook his head, “Cami, we’ve been over this before. It’s too dangerous in your condition. Our son is coming, and you don’t even have a sword to defend yourself.”

“But I could borrow one,” she protested.

“Borrowing a sword and using it are two different things. You wouldn’t listen when I told you to be a mini Shield-Maid, just like all the other hobbit girls. Noooooo, you had to be different. Well, Middle-earth is a dangerous place, and now you’ll just have to pay for being different.”

“You’re not going to stay here, so put it out of your head. I don’t know how Mithadan could have been so foolish to put hobbits in charge of supplying provisions for the Orcs. A very dangerous business. And those slavering beasts Piosenniel has brought with her. I shudder to think. “

“I wish I could stay with you and act as an escort. Then we might consider it, but things are too hot in Mirkwood right now for me to get away. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, but we need to think about the safety of our family.” He went over to her and slid his arm about her shoulders, drawing her head close to his own.

Cami sighed. She found it difficult to be angry with her husband for more than two minutes at a time. Still, she was not going to give up easily on this one. There had to be a way that she could persuade him to let her stay.

She sat and pondered for several minutes, then grinned broadly. An escort! What she needed was an escort who was large and fierce and dangerous and would ease her husband’s mind. She took out her copy of Bilbo’s Elvish tales that she always kept handily tucked inside her belt and skimmed down the list of heroes of Arda who might be available for such duty. But none of them really seemed suitable, and their fees were quite steep. Cami sat back a moment, running over her list of friends. The instant she recalled the name and saw the face she knew it would be perfect.

She looked straight at her husband and smiled coyly, “Of course, you’re right, Maura. The party will be dangerous. Only a fool would stay without protection. Just let me get my things." Then she excused herself for a minute, and went to see Gandalf who was standing near the entrance tof the Hall waiting to come inside.

Cami whispered something to Gandalf who smiled and nodded. Then she took him by the hand and nudged him over to the spot where her husband was still standing, "Maura, dear Maura....I need to talk to you....."

[Trippo The Hippo]

Everyones heads turn. As Trippo the Hippo enters with his posse. They begin a congo line on the way in chanting, "Hungry hungry hippos. Hungry hungry hippos."

As the hippo enters the party, everyone looks to see what he is wearing. "That hippopotamus is wearing a tuxedo and an afro wig" screams a young girl as he walks past.

The hippo immediately heads over to the buffet line knocking a few people out of his way (accindently of course). He steps up and see all the trays of food. "Lembas, cram, and ale. Is... is that raw meat?" questions the hippo as he eyes the food for the orcs and wargs. "Well it doesn't matter" screams the hippo as he grabs a few dozen wafers of lembas.

Then hippo sits down at a table all alone, waiting for the action to really start.

[Bêthberry]

Bethberry, resplendent as always with a warm smile and eyes shining full of wicked merriment, waved as she stepped off the really, really red carpet. She waved in a manner least ressembling the patented, pallid Windsor family pattern of pleasant, passive pretence. In short, vivacity, fun, and wit emanated from her person.

On her arm she bore Wyrd, her pet falcon, who she knew from past experience could be counted on to rid her of any untoward advances which she did not want. Some untoward advances, of course, she might possibly consider, but they were not for her to speak of now and she was quite prepared to spend the party happily mingling. All this talk of coming with an escort she found, quite frankly, boring. Where was the fun in that?

Turning towards Mithadan, she smiled in a bland manner which he knew only too well. It meant she was on to him. Then, obtrusively unobtrusively she placed in the pocket of his grey velvet jerkin a handful of receipts, which she then patted quite patronizingly.

It seems there was a bit of a problem, Mith, with the billing from the caterers. The Prancing Vegetarian charged the food to you, but Bucklebury Takeaway for some reason charged me. So did Anduin Seafood Savouries. Don't worry, though. I've talked to them and they are happy to receive payment from you. Also, I'm sure that you and Child will be happy to hear that Urak Beef and Offal has contracted to provide snakpaks for the wargs and orcs.

Mithadan coughed with some embarassment.

Couldn't you have waited until tomorrow? This will ruin my party spirits.

Pshaw!, said Bethberry. Why have the problem hanging over my head?

The roar of the crowd and the popping of one of the kleig lights interrupted the next part of their conversation, which was thus lost forever to the narrative of events of the Third Birthday Party. However, readers perhaps can be counted on to provide their own inimitable version of events.

Bethberry beckoned Piosennial and Child over and quietly informed all of them that a temporary MASH unit was prepared and waiting behind the bar, with medical personnel ready to treat all manner of party mayhem-excluding wack and slash which of course had no place in Gondor--such as any effects from the notoriously incorrect conflict resolution between the Hobbiton Garden Club and this mysterious Dr. Mariletc. Medical attendants were also equipped to handle intoxication, impaired judgment, dehydration, acid indigestion, blisters, gout, and heartburn.

Heartbreak--and here Bethberry looked over at the ever so solicitous Maura--could be handled for a small fee by the counsellors in the Chapel of Moonlight, on the other side of the bar, who were also trained to witness elven vows in whatever form was finally determined by the Lonely Star, er, Lonely Hearts Club for Tolkien purity.

That final bit of party business out of the way, Bethberry then turned to welcome the guests.

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Durelin]

A loud bang was heard from far off, like a gunshot, but few in the crowd noticed with the music blasting and raucos security orcs milling around. A few more sounded, coming closer each time. In a few moments, a large red jalopy came putsing into view. It was like a box with wheels, grimy and without a windshield. Its coloring might have been red at one point, but it had faded to a sort of sickly orange with green patches where the paint had been chipped off. To everyone's dismay, it pulled up to the red carpet, coming centimeters close to hitting the reknowned Miss. Annunfuiniel's limo trying to drive away.

Out of the front of the car, where the windshield should have been, crawled a young woman with long brown hair with streaks of lighter coloring from the passenger's seat. She wore, to more undelightful surprise, a man's coat, dark green with a high collar and silver leaves in a vine pattern down the sleeves and around the collar, and moderately baggy tan pants, billowing out of black boots. A large black cape swirled around her, to the wanted affect. At least her pants were baggy.

The jalopy putsed away, banging and rattling, and Rytien strolled down the red carpet, ignoring the crowd as they ignored her. She came to the door, but not before being attacked by security orcs. It seemed there was an order that none of the guests were to have weapons. Rytien handed over her sword and dagger reluctantly, wishing she hadn't displayed her knife to the entire world. She was ready to sue if anything happened to them. Suddenly Rytien coughed to disguise a sound of disgust. She had just noticed the music. Well, you're used to it. You've been to parties before, you know they never play good music. It's the food you're here for. Going through the large front doors she began sniffing for the scent.

[the phantom]

Over the hill appears a black limo, made entirely of galvorn. It pulls up, the door opens, and a cloaked figure emerges. The mystery man walks swiftly past the throngs of onlookers and only when he reaches the door does he turn and remove his cloak. It is none other than The Phantom. He immediately turns and enters the building, but not before throwing his cloak onto the carpet behind him.

"I hate it when he does that" mutters one of the orc guards as he and his cronies try desperately to hold back the crowd, all crazed by the thought of touching (or possibly taking) a piece from one of The Phantom's cloaks.

The Phantom strolls in the doors casually with a playful grin on his handsome face and a bright fire in his stunning blue eyes, ignited by his passion for food, dancing, beautiful women, and the Barrow-Downs, all of which would be present at this single, glorious event.

He scans the long table to his left, which appears to be entirely filled with several types of bread. "Cram" he mutters darkly. But then, his spirits begin to climb as he detects the scent of roasted meat coming from the kitchens. He calls to a nearby waiter.

One minute later finds The Phantom staggering under an overlarge platter of drumsticks and dragon steak. But since an infinite amount of food was promised, no one seems to mind his greed.

His vision much impaired by the pile of meat in his arms, he takes a seat at the nearest table, oblivious to the "Reserved for Moderators" sign. The phantom leans back in his chair (which happens to have a "Reserved for The Barrow-Wight" sign on the back) and proceeds to nibble on a drumstick and eye the other guests as they arrive.

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: the phantom ]

[the real findorfin]

The horses slowed as the carriage reached the top of the hill and the flat stone road levelled out. Polished to perfection, the overly large carriage trundled along, carrying its group of passengers, eager to reach the Party. The beautiful white horses slowed further as the Great Building came into site. The road passed by the building and wound further around the hill but the carriage stopped outside. From the edge of the road, all the way to the large flight of steps and the main entrance, a red carpet was laid. Velvet ropes flowed along beside the carpet, separating the path from the mass of media stood alongside. Tall trees rose above the reporters and into the heavens, making the path seem like a corridor of epic proportions.

The carriage door opened and out stepped a tall and elegant elf. He had short black hair and was dressed immaculately in a black suit, white shirt and gleaming silver tie. He was Fin, the well-known and flirtatious elf Lord of Mirkwood. He offered his hand back into the carriage and helped a fair maiden step onto the pavement.

It was the Lady Alatariel of Lothlorien, the first of Fin’s escorts. She was wearing a newly made purple dress, tailored especially for the occasion, and her black hair glistened in the sunlight. This was her first time at a Barrow Down’s anniversary, and she was slightly nervous, hoping that she wouldn’t do anything foolish, fair elvish maiden or not. They had arrived early, but already cameras had started clicking.

Following her came Thoriel, elf lady of Mirkwood. She wore a long dress that trailed behind her. Green it at first seemed, but on closer inspection the colours shimmered and changed like the skin of a dragonfly.

Lastly came Sophia, an elf from Mithlond, wearing a long red dress, and crowned with flowers. As Fin helped Sophia out of the carriage her eyes went wide. She’d known the party was going to be fantastic, but this was beyond what she’d thought possible. Her red slippers made no sound on the plush carpeting as she alighted on the pavement and fidgeted with excitement.

They all moved aside and surprisingly, another lord emerged from the carriage. He was Donlammenion, a tall and strong elf, and also resided in Mirkwood. He and Fin were long-time friends and were to regularly be seen around together.
He helped his lady step out of the carriage and the door shut behind her. She wore a white dress with diamonds in abundance. The sleeveless dress was long and tight to show of her slim figure and her hair was in a bun with more small diamonds accentuating it. She was Niluial, a Lady Elf of Rivendell. Donlammenion looked up at his lady with pride and she smiled sweetly at him.

“Ah, we seem to be early,” exclaimed Fin, with a smile, “more time for photos.”

He and his three stunning ladies step forward and cameras began to click wildly.

“Calm my friends,” Fin cried, raising his hands. “You will all get your turn.”

He turned to his escorts and whispered with a grin, “we’re sure to make the tabloids tomorrow.”

They posed for a several group photos and then one photographer called for couple shots.

“Of course my friend,” Fin answered, “Its Telkar, from the Gondorian Star isn’t it.”
“Yes, my lord,” cried the man, bobbing his head.

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: the real findorfin ]

[the real findorfin]

Alatariel stepped up beside Fin, and smiled alluringly for the cameras, as he placed his hands around her waist. She then stepped down to let Thoriel have her turn, and Alatariel chatted with Sophia, then Thoriel, as they exchanged places. When it was Sophia’s turn, Fin took her hand and led her in front of the flashing cameras. Sophia grinned and shook her head, feeling her hair brush her shoulders.
“You just can’t wait for the party to start, can you?” her escort whispered in her ear, holding her waist a little tighter.

Finally Fin called out, “enough, my friends, enough. There will be other guests.” He laughed, a rich hearty laugh and, taking his escorts, began to make his way up the path toward the huge steps and the doorway beyond. Sophia looked up at the immense building and imagined what it would be like inside. There would be plenty of well-dressed lords and ladies and merry hobbit-folk. But most importantly there would be the dance floor; Sophia bit her lip, giddy with excitement, and tired of waiting. She was excited yet terrified of what the dancing would be like.

[Donlammenion]

Niluial and Donlammenion stayed behind also letting the cameras flash at them. However, Don showed much less bravado than his friend Fin had done, and stood calmly with a contented smile. The cameras took many shots of the lovely couple, until Donlammenion nodded to the photographers and pulled Niluial to the side.
“You look lovely tonight,” he said. Niluial said nothing but she blushed. Donlammenion handed Niluial a blood red rose. “Oh thank you,” Niluial exclaimed. Donlammenion took Niluial’s left hand gently in his and they both walked along the red carpet and up the steps. They turned one last picture, Donlammenion pulling Niluial closer and placing one hand around her waist. Niluial smiled happily for she knew this would be a night she would never forget. Donlammenion was in awe of his most magnificent escort. Even all of the shimmering diamonds on her dress looked ordinary to any one who beheld her, as her beauty was as natural as the earth.

[the phantom]

As a memeber of the security team enters, The Phantom catches a glimpse of Lord Fin and his company outside the door. "That's odd" he thinks. "Fin only has three young ladies on his arm. I wonder if he's ill."

The Phantom's gaze moves beyond Lord Fin's group to Donlammenion and Niluial. "That's a cute couple" he observes as he starts on his steak.

[Mithadan]

Joan shook her head in dismay. "Would you just look at Fin? I just can't believe it. A silver tie? Ugh! It must be twenty years old. He must think he's in a movie with Molly Ringwald. And the pads on his shoulder? *gasp* He looks like he's ready to fly away!"

"But his escorts are lovely, aren't they Joan?" asked Cathy Lee. "Yes," Joan answered. "But it takes more than an escort to make an outfit..."

[Durelin]

Rytien picked up the scent. Roasted meat! Seeing the Phantom had beat her to it, she screamed for a waiter, surprised that one actually came. She was equally surprised and immensely delighted to find that she was loaded with turkey, chcken, beef, pork, shark, and she was determined to try dragon meat. Oh, yes, and she took a carrot. All of the guests were busy conversing with one another, and all had 'escorts' she was dismayed to see. Disgusted, yes, that's the word. She was disgusted. Fin had three somehow. Nothing could ruin her apetite, though.

Rytien decided to join the only other guest eating at this point, the Phantom. Regardless of the signs, she sat down across from him. If he could sit there, so could she. Maybe the signs were a mistake? Didn't seem to matter. She sat down, and introduced herself, "Good day to you, sir! I'm Rytien, and you are the most reknowned, cloak flinging Phantom!" Rytien paused, smiling, "You have perfected it, haven't you?" She eyed the plate before him, it seemed he had attacked a waiter too. "I am glad to find a kindred spirit! How is the dragon meat?"

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Durelin ]

[Tinuviel the Nightingale]

Alatariel walked gracefully through the doors, in the company of Fin, Sophia, Thoriel, and of course the gorgeous couple Donlammenion and Niluial. They spent a few minutes searching for a comfortable table that would acommodate the six of them.

Once found, they all took their seats. Alatariel sipped on some water, and smiled and chatted with Sophia, who was sitting next to her. All the time she was glancing around the Hall. "Wow, it's even better than I expected." she thought.

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

Sophia trailed the little party into the large hall. Donlammenion and Niluial were just ahead of her, giving each other googly eyes. Fin walked ahead of the group, chatting lightly with Alatariel and Thoriel, all three looking right at home in the party atmosphere.

She looked around, falling behind the group as she lost track of the speed of her feet, trying to take in the positions of the buffets and bars, and the tables scattered throughout the room. Her mind obviously elsewhere she stumbled over a small fold in the carpet. This would never do!

Regaining her composure she hastened to catch up with Fin and the others as they settled around a small table. She smiled at Lady Annunfuiniel and sent her a small wave, and sent a curious look toward another table where a hippopotomus was seated, gulping down lembas. Chatting with Lady Alatariel, Sophia grinned and twitched her feet under the table.

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Sophia the Thunder Mistress ]

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Sophia the Thunder Mistress ]

[Arien]

Arien stepped out of the of her carriage and was met but crowds of people and flashes. The carrige was an elegant crimson, set with gold trimmings and wheels. It was lead by two strong black stallions whose mane’s gleamed with rubies and crystals. Her foot landed on the soft red carpet, and the other one was soon down to join it. She took a look around, brushed her dress down and sighed. Here we go, she thought. Her first party at the Downs and she had come with no date but her attire was stunning. Even she had to admit it.

Her long auburn hair flowed like velvet down to her curved hips and it was showered with rubies and crystals. Her eyelids were softly brushed with a gleam of red set with a few red gems. Her blackened eyelashes flickered softly against her soft tanned face. Her lips, coated in a pale red shimmer of lip gloss. From her neck delicately hung a single crystal that shone out like a star. Her nails twinkled with hardened candy polish. They clasped her bag, which contained her dagger. However she knew she would give it up at the door. Her dress was stunning, it hugged her rounded and slender figure. It was one single piece, no bodice it was plain but beautiful. It to, like the carriage was a crimson colour, except her dress was laced with rubies and crystals. It had no sleeves, but instead revealed Arien’s glistening arms. The neck line was low, but not too low as she wanted to keep her dignity. The dress swept across the floor and she walked almost as she was floating.

Cameras flashed into her eyes and she was not too sure of what to do. She did not want to seem too full of herself so, posed for a few pictures then made her into the hall.

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Arien ]

[One Axe to Rule them All]

as the festivities were getting in gear, a small figure, opting for the silent entrance. Walked in the side door and was immediatley alerted by the sound of a metal detector

security guard: "Excuse me sir, but you have to check your weapons at the door"

Me(gimli): "ye can't take me axe!"

Guard: "but sir, the rules are the rules"

Me: "But... it's me axe....."

Guard: "I'm sorry sir, no exceptions..."

Me: "fine.. here you go" *hands over his axe*

Guard: "you may pass now"

Me: *whispering* "Sucker"

then, the dwarf slips into a table and watches the scene, brooding and waiting for the girl party to arrive...

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: One Axe to Rule them All ]

[the phantom]

"Perfected it? If by "it", you're meaning the art of being a ridiculously rich, eccentric, good looking, and famous resident of Middle Earth, then yes, I've perfected it" The Phantom replied, with a hint of a smile. "And the dragon steak is wonderful, the best I've tasted in many years. Are you enjoying yourself thus far, Rytien?"

Rytien did not answer immediately. She was a bit surprised by his voice. She had heard about it, but had never heard it in person. It was deep and powerful, yet extremely clear and pleasant at the same time. The Phantom waited patiently for a reply, in no hurry due to the still considerable pile of meat on his plate.

[Cuthalion]

As Maika and Cuthalion entered the hall, a sharp-eyed Orc stood in front of the couple, barring their way. He looked her up and down, consulting a photograph. "You must be Maikadilwen. We were told to be on the look-out for you...hand it over missy!" He held out his enormous hand, fingers waggling. She crossed her arms and fixed him with "the look". "So? What are you going to do, search me?"

Cuthalion bristled as the Orc's eyes lit up. "Hold on! Excuse us..." He took her by the arm and pulled her over to the side, trying to ignore the stares they were getting. "You had to do it...give it to me..please?" With an exasperated sigh, Maika reached down into the front of her bodice and withdrew a wicked looking breast-dagger. "Here! Happy?" Cuthalion led her back into the line and handed the dagger over to be tagged for retreival later. The Orc shook his head and wished Cuthalion luck.

Hoping fervently the rest of the evening would go smoothly, Cuthalion caught sight of Joan Rivers. Hastily he took Maika in his arms before she could set eyes on the person she despised most in all the world and kissed her soundly, then led her on through to the bar. "Another crisis averted!" he thought, sweating profuely.

[One Axe to Rule them All]

then the dwarf took to his feet and walked over to the phantom with a smile on his face.

Me: "hello friend"

The Phantom, slightly surprised, slightly confused, looked over the dwarf with a strange stare and then realized who he was speaking to..

[vanwalossien]

Vanwalossien also hoped for a quiet entrance, but the metal detector beeps at her as well. After removing a necklace she can walk in, and after giving the guard a charming smile he agrees that she can have it back. She slips into the party, and looks around, quite overwhelmed by the splendid decorations.

[Amanaduial the archer]

The cloaked figure reigned as she drew close to the party, pulling back her black steed, her eyes flashing. Seeing the huge crowd around the party, she strove to find a more low key entrance, her dark eyes flicking over the Hall. Another horsebacked figure moved his mount over beside her.

"Aman? We going in?" He inquired, his teeth white as he grinned. The female rider glanced across at him and lowered her riding hood, revealing a slim, unlined face framed by an elaborately done mass of hair. However, said slim, unlined face revealed more than a little panic.

"Ehm...the crowd is a little..." She struggled for words for the first time.

"Oh, Aman, what is it? Is it me? You dont want to be seen with me?!" Anuion's voice took on a note of mock panic, and Aman arched an eyebrow, before leaning over and pecking him on the cheek. Anuion blushed, but then sighed, a tad sulkily. "You didnt even want to ride in in my arms-" He stopped at a look from his partner, and mimed zipping his mouth closed.

"Thankyou." She looked critically down at the Hall, which was decked out elegantly and eleborately decked out, looking splendid. Well, Mith really has outdone himself this time... she thought, with the smile that always appeared when she thought of cool, calm Mithadan trying to organise an event as huge as this without getting stressed. Still, he would have handled it better than some. Pulling of her riding cloak and stuffing it in a bag, she revealed her outfit underneath; a light, figure hugging, but still moderately practical dress, the blouse-like neck of which sloped down quite low, but not ridiculously so, the collar only around the sides and back of her neck, rising slightly to sit against it. The dress was dove grey, with a black, Elizabethan style waist band, and sloping sleeves, falling about a foot down and sliding up at a slope, and around her pale neck she wore a linked silver necklace, with a small jet raven, wings outspread and no more than a centimetre square altogether on the end. She smoothed up the white collar of her dress- the only reason the young elven woman would ever ride side saddle- and braced herself. Then, turning to Anuion, also well decked out, for she had insisted he was smarter than usual, she grinned.

"Alright- lets get this show on the road!"

They rode at a smooth canter to the Hall, breaking so as not to crush any of the small hobbits under the horses hooves, and Aman smoothly dismounted. The cameras flashed and the *musical* strains of 'Get this Party Started' (Ah well, nothings perfect, Aman conceded silently) and Anuion raised his hand, letting Aman's rest on it gently in the style of the Elizabethan court. She pressed gently on his fingers three times with her slim ones. One, two, three.. and he bowed and she curtsied lightly.

Aman took another deep breath, let a smooth grin slide onto her lips, hoping she didnt look as nervous as she felt, and, with Anuion, the elf walked up the red carpet to the Hall...

[Durelin]

Rytien had heard about the voice before. Everyone talked about it like it was a big deal while she only scoffed. But, it caught her by surprise. It was pretty strange. She paused for only a moment, caught a bit off guard like when she realized she was talking to someone with something stuck in thei tongue. She quickly continued the conversation, though, and The Phantom didn't seem to care about the pause, cutting another chunk off his steak.

"Well, yes I had heard of your great fame, but I hope you understand that you never can know much for sure from rumors." Rytien twisted her lips in a smirk, then looked down to her plate, studying the large dragon steak. "I have never tried dragon steak before, but I have never found many foods I do not like." Cutting off a piece and popping it into her mouth she was delighted to find that she could add it to her list of meats to gorge herself with. "It really is delicious!" she said, grinning.

"Yes, this party looks grand, but, of course, it is fairly slow at this point. Few have arrived and especially not those accustomed to making a lot of noise. But, the food is excellent, and they have really out done themselves with the decorations. I impatiently await the Downie Awards. I have only the faintest idea as to what kind of awards they hand out. What about you? Is this party grand enough to please the ridiculously rich, eccentric, good looking, and most famous resident of Middle Earth?" She continued gobbling down the scrumptious dragon steak, grabbing the A-1 sauce from nearby.

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Durelin ]

[Ainaserkewen]

"Greetings to one and all to the 3rd anniversery of our beloved site.
I'm Reesha Weathers reporting for "Action in Arda" magazine and I have a great show lined up for you today.
Later on the red carpet, I'll be doing interviews of some of our favorite members and maybe even the barrow weight himself!!
But for now, I wait anxiously for my first interview, oh and here she comes, wow what a ride!"
Reesha Weathers steps back as a huge white dragon, it's wings beating the air and blowing away some photographers.
Sitting, rather relaxed, on the back of this beast is a tall fair elf woman, dressed in simple white. Her hair is darker than ebony and her eyes are deep pools into space and time. She sits, staring at all who see her, then she nodds her head.
Reesha steps forward again and helps the woman from her dragon, who immediately flies away. People watch in awe, wondering who this could be.
"Everyone welcome...Ainaserkewen, priestess in Arda, prophet of her people." Then there is a fury of applause and camera flashes.
Ainaserkewen smiles.
"Ready for our interview?" Reesha asks.
"Oh course." Answers Ainaserkewen, in a low misty voice.
"Okay, first off, where did you get that dragon?"
"From another world and time." Replies Ainaserkewen. "Where beasts are trapped in cards and can be summoned at will. Behold the blue eyes white dragon."
"Friend of Setto Kiba, I guess." There is some mustered giggling.
"Tell me, my friend," Continiues Reesha, "What is your favorite forum on this site?"
"My favorite? Well, I love them all, but when I need some cheering up, I go to Middle earth mayham, which was my first love."
"And who might be your favorite administrator?"
"They are all wonderful, and I am happy that they keep us safe. However I cannot name any names because titling them would prove useless, they know who they are."
"What is your favorite thing about Tolkien's books?"
"Oh course, LOTR series is my favorite, it captures adventure, love, lust, loss, sadness and happiness in its pages, it is truly the best book of it's time."
"And what about this site? What is your favorite thing about the site."
"The forum of course, never have I found a more concentrated cluster of Tolkien lovers in one place, I feel very much at home here."
"Thank you very much Ainaserkewen, I hope you fair well at the downies." Reesha said as she finished to scribble down the last few notes.
"I will see you inside?" Ainaserkewen asked.
"Yes, but first I will have to find my other interviews."
So Ainaserkewen, priestess in Arda, prophet of her people, went inside to find her friends.

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Ainaserkewen ]

[the real findorfin]

Fin smiled as they all sat down at their large table, everything was going well. He noticed that Phantom had not only found the biggest platter of food but was sat in the wrong place, and smirked, pointing it out to his companions.

"Now how about some food," Don exclaimed.
"And excellent idea," fin replied, rising from his chair. All of the ladies nodded their heads in agreement so the two lords walked over to the enormous buffet. Don picked up a large platter and Fin proceeded to fill it with a portions of everything! When they were done, they returned to the table and began to eat.

"This needs something to wash it down!" Thoriel exclaimed, inbetween mouthfuls of meat.

Fin clapped his hand to his head, "of course." He rose again and moved quickly over to the bar. He noticed Aman and Helka and waved, and smiled as Cuthalion strode past with Maika; he seemed to be sweating.

Fin managed to obtain several bottles of wine, and six glasses and returned to the table, juggling the large amount of glassware.

"Here we go," he exclaimed and popped the first cork.

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: the real findorfin ]

[Frodo Baggins]

"Two hours later and the guests are still arriving." Frodo Baggins commented as he nimbly dismounted his pony "You see Cahira, I told you we'd be all right."

Maggie Cahira Weiss The young lady Frodo adressed was assisted from her grey horse by another of their companions "Well, I had a right to be worried didn't I?"

Cromthal of Rathcoe snickered as he helped Maggie "Don't mind her she's just paraniod."

"All right everyone, maintan a little decorum." said a calm voice near them. "We at least made it, traffic was terrible!"

Frodo meanwhile eyed the cameras, banners and such "My it certianly is...crowded!" he said at a loss for words. "I almost wish it could have been sweet and simple like last years.

"yes, Frodo, but remember how last years turned out" said the elven voice again. "Frodo you lead us in, I think Liqua Mire and Master Cromthal should folow side by side, I'll bring the rear."

"The rear? You aren't shy are you Elrond?" Maggie quipped.

"Shy? No! Just wanting to keep an eye on the three of you so you'll stay out of trouble. I'm just hoping those Uruks are ONLY security guards. None of us are armed."

The four of them proceeded gracefuly in, resplendent in the costumes they had been working with for days. Frodo wore basically what he wore last year, A white linen shirt, burgundy breeches, purple velvet waistcoat, and his maroon jacket with dark green trim. On his head was a mithril circlet, and around his neck was a dwarf chain set with emeralds, amethysts, rubies, and cat's eye. On his left hand he wore his mother's silver wedding ring (He always wore that) and on his right a sparkilng diamond. And of course he never went anywhere without the white gem that queen Arwen had given him around his neck.

Maggie looked lovely in a brilliant white floor length dress with a three foot train. The dress itself was embroidered with golden starbursts, the hem, neckline and middle upper arm of the sleeves were done in red and gold embroidery. The rest of the sleeves were pleated and they were long and wide, hanging down to below her knees. Maggie also wore white leather shoes that laced up to her knees with gold ribbon. On the forefinger of her left hand she wore an amethyst ring, on the same finger on her right was an opal, and she wore a small silver Celtic knot ont he ring finger of her right hand. Her unbound curly hair which flowed down her back was adorned with silver circlet carved like flowers, every three flowers was a ring of smaller flowers surrounding a sapphire.

Cromthal of Rathcoe, the brehon had good but eclectic taste, and this day was no exception. He was wearing a long, bright green silk damask gown, his usual gold neck-ring, and yellow satin shoes that tied with ribbons. He wore his bardic girdle, which was little more than a length of cotton ropes woven in a diamond pattern fringed on each end, he had woven a srting or two of pearls into and strung some jewels on it. He had braided the sections of his hair just on front of his ears and pulled thime back around his head in a circlet fashion and threaded ribbons throught the braids. The rest of his hair had a scattering of elven jewels in it. On the middle finger of his right hand he wore a gold ring set with an emerald. Over all this he wore a light grey velvet hooded mantle with wide sleeves.

Elrond seemd simply yet regally dressed at the same time. He was dressed in a silver grey silk robe over another briliantly white robe that had wide sleeves as well but was cather at the cuffs. The only part you saw of the under robe were the sleeves because the sleeves of the grey silk were open halfway. A great jeweled chain, silver slippers, his gold wedding band (yes still wearing it) Vilya, and a small silver circlet completed the ensemble.

They paraded in, Frodo in front, Maggie with her hand lightly resting on Cromthal's arm, and Elrond behind them.

[Arien]

Arien continued to walk down the carpet. It seemed as though it took her years. People shouted random things at her like. “we love what your wearing.” and “This must be your first time at a downs party, we would have noticed you last year.” Besides from embarrassing Arien, it kind of intimidated her was so much emphasis always put on the clothes? She carried on to walk down the carpet and as she turned around to talk to a reporter she saw Aman with he date. She gave a shy wave to her and continued to talk to the reporter.

“So, what is your name, you must be new here.” the she-elf asked thrusting a microphone into Arien’s face.

“Err….yes I am. This is my first attendance to a Party.”

“Well can I say, you surely came in style. The dress, your hair, make- up. Everything looks amazing!”

“Why thank you!” Arien smiled and continued to walk on, that little interview had given her confidence a boost. As she reached the door she handed over her dagger and took off her necklace. She walked through.. She collected her necklace off the security guard and signed a form for the secure baby sit of her dagger.

“Take good care of it.” she smiled at the guard and walked into the hall. It was adorned with extravagant displays and although not a lot of people were here yet it looked as though the buffet table had already been attacked. She laughed to herself and looked around for a seat.

[*Varda*]

Ignoring the cheering, the hobbit walked bashfully up the red carpet, turning pink.

“All these people...” Poppy Took murmured to herself, “and not a hobbit in sight yet.” Drifting into a reverie over attending such a glamourous party, she was abruptly stopped by an orc, who appeared to be security.

“Weapons?” he asked.

“Does it look like I could be hiding any weapons?” as Poppy turned round in her blue silky dress, conveniently covering her bare feet. The orc merely grunted and waved her on in.

Once inside, Poppy admired the work the decorators had done. The place was still rather quiet, but slowly filling up.

“Good ale, good food…this will be a party to remember!” although she felt that it would have to be a party of some magnificence to top Bilbo’s, and his strange disappearing act. She sat herself down at a table, and cast her gaze around the room to find someone she recognised.

[Cuthalion]

Cuthalion nodded to Fin as he ordered Maika's drink, recieving a knowing wink in return. Maika called out to Anuion and Archer as they entered the hall looking just a tad nervous. Archer looked wonderful and Anuion had a lop-sided grin on his face. Cuthalion wrapped his arm around Maika and waved the two of them over.

Meanwhile at the buffet, the hippo looked up in alarm as the magnificent Dragon entered. Hastily he stuffed the rest of the food on his plate into his mouth and edged over to a less brightly lit corner of the room.

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Cuthalion ]

[Hanna_Gamgee]

Hanna follows Arien through the red carpet but sneaks past the reporter. She wears her best purple dress and black shoes. When she arrives at the front door she lets the guard look in her bag then gives the guard her weapon. Then she goes through the metal detector. When she gets inside she heads straight to the food table where she notices a hippo and some elves.

[ May 01, 2003: Message edited by: Hanna_Gamgee ]

[the phantom]

The Phantom greeted the dwarf with a friendly nod, and motioned for him to take a seat at his table. "I wonder where those girls are. Probably still primping. I was up this morning at 3:00 preparing myself for the party. I don't like arriving late, just in case there is a shortage of vittles, but by all appearances that will not be happening here."

The Phantom then turned back to Rytien. "Yes, the party may be slow now, but it is still very early. I will withhold my opinion until more guests have arrived and the entertainment has begun. It will have to be quite grand to top the birthday party I threw for myself last year, but my mind's voices are telling me that this party will indeed surpass all parties ever held in Middle Earth."

Both Rytien and the dwarf seated next to her raised their eyebrows at The Phantom's last remark. They guessed by "my mind's voices" he was referring to his uncanny mental abilities, which, after last year, were no longer doubted. Not only had he predicted the earthquake that had destroyed many of the castles in the area, but he had also increased his wealth in the stock market by roughly forty times, in a down year. With this in mind, The Phantom's two dinner companions knew beyond a doubt that this party would indeed be excellent.

The Phantom suddenly noticed the sign in the middle of the table, but merely dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "We'll move when they come. I'd actually like to thank them for their hard work, so staying in these seats will provide us with the perfect opportunity to do so."

[Trippo The Hippo]

I receive my odd look form Sopiha, and only smile, remembering what my mother used to tell me, "It's because you are special Trippo."

I eat my last wafer off lembas, and finish off my soda. I thought that the time was right to move around, as Fins colonge was gaging me.

So I get up and just then a warg comes runnning right in front of me, chasing a young girl. I dive out of the way right into Rytien who reaches for her sword luckily for me it is not there. I get up quickly apoligize and move on.

I wave at Gimli who is awaiting the infamous group of females.

[Galadriel9]

At the end of the red carpet a rather unusual mode of transport drew up, it could, perhaps have been a van, once upon a time, however, it had now been customised...interestingly. It was covered in highly polished axes, the security guards looked at it warily; unsure just how the strict safety regulations would apply to this particular....thing. There was an expectant hush among the press and The Dwarf with the Beard stepped out. He was, in fact, wearing the usual dwarf garb and carrying his finest axe. The cameras flashed and clicked with startling frequency. But where was the other half to this famous couple? The Elf who had married the Dwarf with the Beard was not present! The press picked up on this fairly quickly and shouted various questions at the dwarf, concerning his reasons for being alone....he did not answer, but walked gravely up the red carpet. This was unheard of, had The Dwarf with the Beard and the Elf who had married the Dwarf with the Beard had an arguement? They were rarely seen away from each others side. The dwarf handed over his axe to the security, as he had expected. He entered the hall, smelling those pleasant and distinctive smells of Malt beer and roasted meat..., Mith had really excelled this time...he smiled to himself, he and the Elf who had married the Dwarf with the Beard had their reasons for arriving seperately....