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.

My best friend murdered me for being so annoying, and laughing all the time.

[Sirithheruwen]

My death resulted from an unfortunate incident involving a faerie, a fire hydrant, and an orange fluffy telephone. You do the math.

[Beanamir of Gondor]

Ah yes this is wonderfully obsessive, but have any of you written a story about your origins? Unfortunately the Wight changed the FanFic rules, and mine got thrown out. [duh it was about Harry Potter/LOTR].
But anyway, did you know that there's a portal between Middlearth and our earth? If a person is killed before their time in Middlearth, then they come to our world, and vice-versa here. Thus is why I am married to Boromir, who died before his time and came here. Oh yes, and there's an added plus- the person coming through to the other world becomes twenty again or if they're younger than that, the age they died at. So Boromir and I are happily married in Bristol. And by the way I used to live in Middlearth and was reincarnated into this world. I used to be one of the maidens of Gondor, a wife of a warrior, that died of grief when my husband was killed in the final battle of the Second Age.

[Maeggaladiel]

Ah, such fine tails of.. um.. deadness!

As for me, my death was caused by my cursed glasses. As my sig will tell you, I am (or rather, was) one of the few nearsighted elves!

I was out on a walk in the forest one day with some friends when we heard a noise in the bushes to our right.

"Be on your guard," said my friend Pherdaciliel. I looked all around, but could see nothing.

Blaming this on my dirty lenses, I removed my glasses and wiped them with the hem of my cape. At this precise moment, an army of Elvis impersonators leaped out of the bushes, riding upon ferocious giant squirrels. Shooting deadly black rubber combs, they leapt over our heads and surrounded us. One of the squirrels hit the back of my head, sending my glasses to the ground.

Now everything was fuzzy. I let out a stream of unladylike words as I fumbled for my glasses, rubbing the back of my head. The Elvis impersonators, who were the sworn enimies of my clan for thier late-night parties, dug the heels of their blue suede shoes into the flanks of the squirrels and charged again. Sun glinted off of the jeweled white eagle suits, blinding me. My last vision of life was the deadly black comb spinning towards my face, and the sparkle of ivory squirrel talons reaching for my throat.

Eventually I found myself at the Downs, with "You Ain't Nothing But A Hound Dog" stuck in my head. Wierd...

Love me tender
MAEG~
Death is only the beginning!

[Duncariel]

How did I die. Hmmmmm, I've died so many times that I seem to have lost track of them all. There was that locker at school, and the kid with the pen, and all of those very suspicious looking fellows in that dark alley that I just happened to wander into.... Oh! And that time when I fell in a whole and it happened to be filled with ferocious wild gars! That was thrilling....

[Vilyon]

I was on holiday in Numenor and the king suddenly emptied the island and sailed off to valinor. I went for a look around and found Sauron laughing his head off in the throne room and i decided that i diddn't like him, so I shot him. he promptly fled to Middle Earth and tried to follow him, but the Island exploded and I went flying so far that I hit a tombstone in the Barrowdowns and died in the prossess

[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!

[Evisse the Blue]

My unfortunate room mates (who know naught and care not of this blessed realm where I now reside) have repeatedly promised to do me in, and I ended up begging them to release my spirit from the burden of living. Alas, they tried to many times: choking me, pushing me off the balcony... But they're so incompetent, they can never finish the job...

In the end, the sweet(er than miruvor) but deadly combination of coffee+vodka that I was in the habbit of savouring satisfied my death wish and left me cold and Blue.

And this is how I came to join this realm I had before only dreamt of. *bliss*

[Meneltarmacil]

I came to this site while searching for LOTR info, pictures, etc. Unfortunately, I happened to stumble upon the Mad Libs, did one, and laughed myself to death.

Which is how I found myself here. But I'm not complaining. I like it here.

[ElanorGamgee]

Well, my death story is a bit *ahem* embarrassing, you see. A bit of a mix up on my part; in fact, you might call it a comedy of errors…except that comedies don’t end in death, normally. But I digress.

You see, I was on the wrong side of the Brandywine, for one thing. But that’s perfectly normal, because I live on the outskirts of Bree, and queer folk live on the western side of the Brandywine, as everyone knows. No, I was on the wrong side because my dratted relatives live on the opposite. I don’t understand why cousin Daffodil married that ridiculous Proudfoot and agreed to live among such odd folk, but I couldn’t very well refuse an invitation to her forty-first birthday party, now, could I? So I packed a few things and set off on the path to Hobbiton.

Now, normally I wear my glasses when I drive the wagon anywhere, as it is a responsible thing to do and I consider myself as good a hobbit as any. However, I forgot the things in my befuddled state of mind and was well down the road before I realized my pony looked remarkably like a large furry sofa. But not one to allow small shortcomings to deter me, I drove on, even urging poor Teddy to trot faster. It was around this time that the beast must have taken the left rather than right turn at the fork in the road, and therein lies the fatal mistake.

Evening neared, and the blurred objects before me began to melt together into darkness. The country was hilly, and the hills seemed to have points jutting from the tops. To my imperfect eyes, they looked as if they could be some manner of dwellings, and, well, folk outside Bree are known for being awful strange. Despite his stubbornness, I urged Teddy toward the nearest one.

I felt the air chill and snapped the reins, but the pony would not budge. Cursing the creature, I hopped out of the wagon to lead him by the reins. Teddy had other plans; the insolent beast bolted the moment my foot touched the grass. With nowhere to go but forward, I approached the top of the hill.

A dark figure emerged. My heart ought to have leapt for joy, but it ended up in my mouth instead. I staggered forward, wishing to turn, but fixed to my destination. A thin streak of an arm reached forward and beckoned icily. I kept moving closer and closer as the figure grew larger in my sight, until the darkness of the robes enveloped my sight. Then I woke up to discover myself wearing the most outrageous costume jewelry in the company of you good people. My, folk outside Bree certainly are strange, and no mistake!

[Nimrothiel]

What is life but death;
an evil from our rebellious past.
It begins with our first breath,
and only ends at our last.

I was the half-elf who joined the Fellowship near the foot of Cahadras. My tale is never told, for I was cast out of Elrond's household. Mithrandir took pity on me, and allowed me to join the Fellowship. I had expressed a wish for them to end my weary existence, but he persuaded me to join a noble cause which would probably have death as the only prize. I remained with them as we entered Moria, I was there in the battle with the orcs. I met my tragic end when I threw myself in front of the fateful spear which would have pierced Frodo. Alas that I knew naught of his mithril coat! Yet I found peace in death, for do I not dwell here among you?

[Maeggaladiel]

ELANOR GAMGEE!!! We share a common detest for glasses! As you probably know, I am (well, was) one of the few nearsighted fey folk. I feel your pain. My glasses were the cause of my own demise, as well. (read my previous post about the Elvis impersonators and squirrels on this thread.) Perhaps I should expand my Society for Nearsighted Elves to accomodate any dead creatures that were brought to their unbreathing state of existance by glasses, as well! The Society proudly presents you with an Ivory Lily for Honorable Death in the Face of Glasses-Wearing. Bravo, Bravo!

By the way, did you ever find Teddy? I think I saw a lone horse plodding by the downs the other day. Perhaps he was trying to return your glasses.

Nearsighted and Proud,
MAEG!

PS- NIMROTHIEL- Thank you for sharing your sad tale! I feel for you. Being a half-elf can be very stressful, and not being recorded in the Book must be extremely painful to discuss. Bravo! The Society wishes to award you with the Pearl Lily for Best Fellowship Death Not Recorded in the Book. You beat Haldir by 27 votes! We would also like to award you with the White Lily for Saving an Unworthy Ringbearer! Curse and bebother that hobbit for not sharing his little secret! But at least you are among friends now. Dead friends, but friends nonetheless.


PSS- GALADRIEL'S MAIDEN- I think I may be able to help you. The Society for Nearsighted Elves presents you with a free seven month's prescription to Ringorette Patch- the only clear patch that delivers a small dose of evil ring directly into your bloodstream. I hope it helps you quit your addiction to rings of power and assists you in finding true death among the dead downies. You can also buy Ringorette gum in orange or wintergreen flavors at a local drugstore.

[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.