The Downie Awards Show

[Arafangwen]

"I wonder when would be a good time to present my award." Arafangwen thought to herself as returning to her seat from the little adventure concerning the small hobbit who strangly enough, rudely dissapeared after being rescued by the elves and Saucepan Man.

"What happened?" Firondoiel asked.

"Don't ask." she said in reply realizing that Firondoiel was still groggy from recently waking up.

"Guess I'll leave her alone." she thought to herself as Firondoiel rooled back over to return to sleeping.

"I should get ready to go onstage." she thought to herself as she exused herself from her friends which she didn't really need to do considering they were all asleep at the moment.

[Airehiriel]

It was now, at this late stage, that Airehirel decided to make her quiet entrance. She surveyed her surrounds. It looked like a mini battled had taken place in a few locations. There were some attendees that were asleep, and strange songs being played from the stage. She looked around the crowded hall, and tried to find an empty seat. It seemed there were none to be found, so Airehiriel simply walked to the back wall and stood, watching the show.

[mark12_30]

"Hello again, Arafangwen. I'm glad things have settled down a little, " LinGalad sighed with tangible relief and sat beside her. "I can appreciate your friends' weariness; what a baffling ceremony this has been."

"Yes, it has, " Arafangwen replied, standing to leave and go to the stage.

LinGalad, relieved to have no hobbits thrashing about either on his lap or in the auditorium with wolves, smiled happily, and basked in the presence of so many nice, normal elves. Then he redirected his attention to Nurumaiel's acceptance speech. After all the chaos, she was a pleasure to listen to, and LinGalad enjoyed it almost as much as if she had been singing.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Firondoiel]

Firondoiel found it impossible to doze with the loud buzz of conversation all around her. So she gave up trying and stretched. When she glanced at her friends she noticed LinGalad had returned.

"Ah, There you are LinGalad. Where have you been? And where's the hobbits?" Firondoiel asked.

"The hobbits decided they had had enough of the awards ceremony to make a long story short. As for me, that's a long story too." LinGalad replied wearily.

"I see." said Firondoiel for she could think of nothing else to say to that. She turned towards the stage and waited for the next award to be anounced.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: Firondoiel ]

[Lady Alasse]

Thinking that the dragon would probably be able to watch out for itself and the laptop, Alasse had the eagle land and thanked him. Then she made her way back to Nuru to Congratulate her for her award.

[Nurumaiel]

Nuru accepted Alasse's congratulations, then took a deep breath and went back on stage. Before the audible groan could ripple through the audience, the Elf held up her hands and shouted, "I'm finished with my speech!" Smiling pleasantly and reassuringly, she said, "This is a presentation."

There was some laughter and scattered applause. When it had died down Nuru began nervously, making it quite obvious (though unintentionally) that she was having a difficult time.

"It can be rather difficult to take a character of Tolkien's -a character that has already been created and whose personality you must follow carefully- and play him wonderfully throughout all RPGs, at a range of all different ages, starting from perhaps 11 and going on and on. It is a difficult task, but one of us had done it with determination, dedication, and impressed many with how wonderfully she carried out this challenge.

"I'm standing on the stage at this moment to present The Sean Astin Hairy-Foot Award for Faithful Service in a Tolkien-Stretched RPG for Playing Sam Gamgee in Every Possible Configuration Known to Middle-Earth."

Laughter sounded at this long and amusing name, and also some confusion at the challenge of trying to make it out, for Nuru had spoken it quickly.

"I'm pleased to announce that this award goes to..... Orual!!!!!"

There was some silence, as Orual didn't come up on stage. Blushing hugely, Nurumaiel turned to the maestro. "I'm sorry," she said. "The Garden Song, please." Perfect for a Sam award.....

Inch by inch, row by row
Oh, to make this garden grow
All it takes is a rake and a hoe
and a piece of furtile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm and from below
'Till the rain comes tumbling down

Pulling weeds and picking stones
Man is made of dreams and goals
Feel the need to grow my own
'Cause the time is close at hand
Grain for grain, sun and rain
Find my way in nature's chain
Chewing my body and my brain
To the music from the land

Inch by inch, row by row
Oh, to make this garden grow
All it takes is a rake and a hoe
and a piece of furtile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm and from below
'Till the rain comes tumbling down

Planting rows straight and long
Pamper them with care and song
Mother Earth will make you strong
If you give her love and care
An old crow watching hungrily
From his perch in yonder tree
In my garden I'm as free
As that feathered thief up there

And....

Inch by inch, row by row
Oh, to make this garden grow
All it takes is a rake and a hoe
and a piece of furtile ground
Inch by inch, row by row
Someone bless these seeds I sow
Someone warm and from below
'Till the rain comes tumbling down
'Till the rain comes tumbling down

Orual's Post

Standing up from her seat next to Rie and Talômi, a young woman rushed up towards the stage wearing...a Sam costume?

Laughing and crying at the same time, Orual hugged Nurumaiel tightly as she accepted her award. She tucked her brown hair behind her ear as she tried to catch her breath.

"Thank you so much, Nuru. What an award...I may have to practice a while before I can tell people what I won! My first thank-you would have to go to Nuru, for inviting me to play Sam for the first time in The Hobbit's Gift. The idea of playing him as an eleven-year-old was a little intimidating at first, but it turned out splendidly. It was also my first RPG. More than that, you've always been such a good friend to me, Nuru. For that, I thank you more than I can say.

"Thanks to Piosenniel and Child of the 7th Age for inviting me to play In the Shadow of the Star, where I got to play Sam again, after the Quest, with a pack of kids this time, instead of being a kid himself. The opportunity to play with such incredible writers has inspired me. And I don't know how I could play a good Sam without a good Frodo, so I thank mark12_30 and, again, Child of the 7th Age, for playing wonderful Frodos."

She paused and took a deep breath, grinning so as not to cry. "For all of my fellow players, in all of the games that I have been in, my sincerest thanks and high compliments. You are all an inspiration. Thank you!" She blew a dramatic kiss to the crowd and went back to her seat.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: Nurumaiel ]

[mark12_30]

There was loud applause and much cheering, and many heads nodding in approval across the auditorium. "Bravo!" "Yes!" "Well-written!" were some of the shouts heard over the din. LinGalad looked around hoping to catch a glimpse of the honoree.

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

[Bekah]

After so many things had happened, Narelen still hadn't appeared. No one missed her in the chaos, though.

A still sober, awake, and sitting elf apathetically watched Narelen rush in, look around, and sit down. Narelen indicated furiously to the watching elf and whispered,

"I have some urgent business and cannot be here any longer. I hope to return soon, but I may not. Tell everyone..."

[OOC: Narelen is going to be the future name of my former character Varda Elentari.]

[ May 10, 2003: Message edited by: Bekah ]

[kittiewhirl1677]

During the intermission, Eladoriel had dozed off. She didn't sleep for a day and a half, so the fatigue eventually took over her mind and body. She awoke to the sound of angry wargs and elves and a hobbit running around.

"What's going on?" She asked Menelien, but the elf was apparently still asleep...

Eladoriel soon dozed off as well, thinking that she was in a bad dream... not wanting to experience any of it.

[elven maiden Earwen]

Eärwen had been backstage though most of the Award Show waiting to present her award. Finally it was her turn. She walked out onto the stage smiling and waving.
“Hello Barrow-Downs!!” Eärwen called into the mic.
“Hello!” Many of the audience members called back.
“ As you know the Quiz room is a favorite room for many of the Barrow-downers. They love the fun game you can play that always keeps those brain juices flowing. Whether it’s cryptic, a riddle, or just a question, Barrow-downers have much fun guessing the answer and then posting a riddle in return.” Eärwen said as she launched into her speech.
“But of all these games, one of them stands out from all the rest. Its one of the longest threads in the quiz room, and Middle-Earth’s only game show. It’s one of my favorite games but somehow I always manage to guess the letters, and then find the quote right after someone got it.” Eärwen said as she heard a few laughs and snickers from the audience.
“Of course I’m talking about the Palantir of Fortune!!. But there is one woman who always has a good quote for us to guess and her knowledge of Tolkien is shown in this thread. So with out further ado I would like to present the award for The Barrow Downs Post Design Award’, in the ‘Slash and Dash’ category for the best use non-letter posts in the Quiz Room – Palantir of Death section” Eärwen continued. Cue drum roll.
“to the Gilraën a woman of great talent. Congats to you!” Eärwen called after a long pause.
“Gilraën, Gilraën, Gilraën!!!” the crowd cheered.
Eärwen hoped off the stage smiling as a song came on. To the Tune of “Basketball” by Lil’ Bow Wow, rewritten by Eärwen, now entitled “Palantir of Fortune”


[Chorus]
There playing Palantir
Palantir of Fortune
There playing Palantir
Palantir of Fortune

Yo Palantir of Fortune is my favorite game
I love the way you guess the letters- it’s insane
We keep it so fresh on the forum
I like no interruption when the game is on
I like guessing quotes that take me to the book
My favorite game is this one O’
I like the slash
I like the dash
And its Palantir of Fortune lets go

[Chorus]

I got the keyboard in my hands
There ain’t no tellin what I’m gonna do wit it
When I find the quote I’m gonna have to post it
I might mess up but that’s ok
Turn around and hit you wit the right one right away
I throwin down letters like there’s no end
Taking guesses so fast O”
And I’m keeping you on your feat- O’ yeah
When I’m in the game I play wit style
I’m like so good cuz I can get the quote and beat you in a mile

[Chorus]

[ May 06, 2003: Message edited by: elven maiden Earwen ]

[Samwise]

Primrose dug her heels into the ground as both Sam and Stacey tried to drag her in the door.

"Papa, WHY do we have to be here? Can't we just go home???"

Sam rolled his eyes. "YOUR UNCLE FRODO asked us to be. " he said firmly, his eyes scanning the room.

Stacey picked Primrose up and set her in Tennyson's lap. "Come on, let's get this over with. " she said, stifling a yawn.

Mimi looked around, then at Stacey, "Rather drab, isn't it? "

Stacey: "Rather have it drab than like last year...."

She followed Sam in search of Frodo and the others.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Glancing behind, the grey-cloaked wizard enveloped in pipeweed smoke mouthed the words "Are you certain the door is barred?" to the stagehand one last time. Then, with a none-too-assured nod, Gandalf strode brightly onto the stage bearing two crinkly scrolls of finest vellum. *

To quote somebody's gaffer, "Hard work always pays off after a time, but laziness pays off right now."

* Unrolling the first scroll: *

"The Procrastinator's Award for Best Performance in an RPG While Avoiding Writing a 2000 word Essay" goes to *Varda*. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

And now a bit of Varda's accompanying theme song, "Too Much Time on My Hands" by Styx.

Is it any wonder I've got
Too much time on my hands, it's ticking away with my sanity
I've got too much time on my hands, it's hard to believe such a calamity
I've got too much time on my hands and it's ticking away from me


I only wonder who would have won this award had the essay been 1999 words, or 2001? Seriously, the reason I feel comfortable presenting this gag award is because I can vouch for Varda's dedication and ability when it comes to hard work, as we shared adventure together in the "Castle Maladil" RPG.

* Gandalf bowed, smiling, to present the award, a small gold statue shaped like a king of old. The statue was lined up with others of its kind on a table of green marble. *

* But of course, for some in Middle Earth a barred door proved no obstacle. One of these now stood in a newfound hiding place under the stage. Thus it was that Daerohil thrust his ghostly self up through the oaken hardwood floorboards, laughed like windchimes on the edge of a distant cloud, snatched the statue, and ran himself to hand it to Varda. Since many in the audience were incapable of seeing ghosts, it looked to these baffled onlookers as though Gandalf were by some magic levitating the statue over to Varda! *

* Gandalf, seeing the whole thing down to the smallest detail, smiled relief that the gentle friendly mischief of the ghostly Elf Daerohil went no further. Then, unrolling the second scroll: *

"The Alter Ego Award for Best Supporting Role as a Student While Pursuing Death on the Barrow-Downs" goes to VanimaEdhel. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

And now a bit of VanimaEdhel's theme song "Don't Fear the Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult.

All our times have come
Here but now they're gone
Seasons don't fear the reaper
Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain
We can be like they are


And how well VanimaEdhel balances her schoolwork with her many writing projects here at the Barrow Downs! I'm very happy to have personally worked with her in depth in two RPGs ... "On Patrol" and "Castle Maladil."

* Meanwhile, an out-of-place lad named Johnny stood thoroughly oblivious to the Downie Awards ceremony going on around him. Bereft of weapons and treasure, he still had what passed for his wits about him. He'd spent the entire time searching for secret doors, under the logic that none of the obvious doors would lead him back to the university and his waiting calculus exam. At this exact moment, a panel slid with a smooth stone click into a wall, revealing a passageway! *

* But out of this passageway sprang a madly hurtling dark shape, a black mass of legs and snorting. Johnny jumped down to a crouching position and rolled aside just in time. Midnight, the black war steed against which Gandalf had barred the door, surveyed the room with a shake of the mane and a soft pawing of hooves. Many people in the hall held small gold trophies, the horse noticed. Why, even the old grey man was picking one up now. Midnight trotted to the table and sniffed at the statues. Until, that is, he sensed a rider had leaped upon him. Midnight could see no rider, but someone was spurring him on with unseen feet, grabbing his mane to steer. Midnight ran back the way he came, to get outside once more. *

* Gandalf bowed smiling and held out the statue to VanimaEdhel without further ado. *

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

*GaladrielOTO wonders what the heck she's doing at her computer at 2:45 am* Menelien stirred and got up, pushing Eladoriel, who was taking up part of her seat, off, and got up for a short midnight stroll (like me [img]smilies/wink.gif[/img]. She walked off into some twisting and turning corridors and quickly got lost. Finally she heard somebody... or a few somebodies. There was an Elf, who Menelien thought was Pio but couldn't tell in the dark, followed by quite a few... others, chasing her and some running after her but not seeming to chase her. Oh, what the hell. I need something to do, so why not? thought Menelien, as she ran after the rest, her long legs itching for the exercise. (You see, Menelien never runs around anymore, spending all her time in front of he computer screen as she is [img]smilies/wink.gif[/img] )

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: GaladrieloftheOlden ]

[Mithadan]

Mithadan, now bolstered by a cup of wine, again took to the stage and approached the podium. The trophy he held, while similar to the usual Downie design of a tombstone, had an added feature; a quill pen embedded in the top.

"A great part of the Barrow-Downs culture revolves around the study and interpretation of Tolkien's work. This can be found to some extent in every forum, from Books to Mayhem. Yet sometimes a member submerges him or herself so deeply into study and as a result creates a scholarly work so astonishing that it cries out for recognition. We honor one such member today with the Downie for Lifetime Acheivement in Academic Study. This Award goes to Marileangorifurnimaluim for her superb study of Hobbitish cultural behavior entitled 'Hobbit Sex Ed'!"

He clapped loudly as Soft Cell's "Sex Dwarves" began to play...

[Maikadilwen]

An award for someone "special"

[*Varda*]

Poppy blushed furiously as she walked onto the stage, smiling warmly at Gandalf. She accepted the Downie floating over to her, while giggling at the confused faces of the audience. Lowering the microphone a good few inches...well, feet, she turned to face the audience.

"Uh...well, I really wasn't expecting this," she said, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. Clutching her Downie in her small hand, she continued.

"Of course, I could never have done this on my own..I'd just like to thank Gandalf and everyone else on Castle Maladil for helping me to get this Downie by giving me something much better to occupy my time with than the essay, and of course, Mr Barrow Wight himself, for starting this whole thing off. Incidentally, I did manage to get the essay finished, even if at 4am, so a little procrastination never hurt anyone! Thank you!"

Poppy drifted off the stage in a happy dream, all thoughts of her other essays and impending exams firmly placed at the back of her mind.

[gilraën]

Oh elven maiden Earwen I am so touched, I am no writer, rather one who appreciates the words of others and studies them fanatically. This very much being the case with the thread mentioned in this award. It would not even be posssible without the wonderful, and witty I go so far so as to say, responses from the busy participants. Thank you so very much. The biggest thanks of course go to Tolkien who so kindly provided the superb material which we so boldly 'borrowed'.

Thank you all. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img]

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: gilraën ]

[Helkahothion]

As the audience clapped their hands for the last speaker an old man entered the hall. He looked relieved. Travelling by broom was never nice if you had to do long distances. That invincibility charm lasted till here thank god. Dumbledore had been amused by the muggle flying equipment. They had just such a stupid look on their face. But here he was at last. On of the entrance guard stepped up to him.

"Name?"

"Albus Dumbledore. I am here to present an award."

"Ah yes, professor. They have been waiting for you. Especially Bêthberry. She won't be around for some time I heard though."

"Yes, I have gotten that owl. A real shame, but first things first."

Dumbledore stepped to the stage. The steps looked like a mountain. He took out some sort of stick and waved it at the stage.

"Downirus Podia"

The stage lowered and Dumbledore stepped up and waved at the stage again. It immediately went back to its original height.

"Greetings Lord of the ring fans. I have be asked by the guest free Mithadan to give away a very special award. But most of all special is the one that is receiving the award. You might all know her as a mod. I know her as a....... well a mod, but that is not the point. She is a wonderful person. I can see that. She dedicates a lot of time here. I will bet my chocolate frog card collection that she did not expect this award. Well, here it is: The winner of the "The Thesaurus and Dictionary Award for the Member most in Need of Remedial Instruction in Grammar and Spelling." is no other than your very own: Bêthberry!!!" " Play United Forum of Whatever"

I went down to the beach and saw a newcomer
She was, like, all “RGPing iz kool”
And I was, like, “whatever!”

Then this elf comes up to me and she’s all, like,
“He walk up street?”
And I’m, like, “yeah, whatever!”

So later I’m at the pool hall
And this Anuion comes up
And he’s, like, “I was went stabbed”
And I’m, like, “yeah, whatever!”

Cuz this is my
United Forum of Whatever!
And this is my
United Forum of Whatever!
And this is my
United Forum of Whatever!

And then it’s three A.M.
And I’m on the corner, wearing my leather
This dude comes up and he’s, like, “hey, Mod!”
I’m, like, “yeah, whatever!”

Then I’m throwing dice in the alley
Barrow Wight comes up and is, like,
“Hey, check your spelling and...”
And I’m, like, “yeah, whatever!”

And then up comes Helka
I’m, like, “yo, Helka. Checked your spelling?”
He’s, like, “Nope’”
And I’m, like, “that’s cool.”

Cuz this is my
United Forum of Whatever!
And this is my
United Forum of Whatever!


"Thank you Liam. That was nice."

"artista dispareatra"

Artist was gone.

"Enjoy Bêthberry. Now if you will excuse me, I have to sucker punch Voldemort before going to sleep. He is currently hanging from his thumbs in the dungeon. Special request from mister Filch. I did not mind hehehee. Well bye to you all.

"Dumbledorus dispareatra"

*poof*

[The X Phial]

Aroused from her slumber on the wall by thunderous applause at the mention of Bethberry's much deserved award, The X Phly zigged and zagged her way up to the podium. She landed on the microphone and cleared her throat, startled that the sound was so magnified. The less observant attendees were rather shocked as well, The X Phly was difficult to see.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is X and I am not Bethberry."

A puzzled silence met her, they obviously already knew this much. She cleared her throat again.

"Despite my obvious status as not-Bethberry, I have been asked by the illustrious mod to accept this award on her behalf. In her stead I would like to thank the awards committee, her family for their patience, and her well worn dictionary and thesaurus. I would also like to thank the Barrow Wight for the edit and preview functions. So, let's hear a round of applause for Bethberry, currently off helping the River Daughter's Son-in-Law."

With that, The X Phly hoisted the award and drug it offstage. She was helped by her genetically altered half-bee status and a little spell from Dumbledore. Once offstage she took a little rest, exhausted, and hoped no insectavors would trundle past in the mayhem.

[kittiewhirl1677]

Eladoriel awoke to find an old man on the stage. She swore she had seen him before, or knew him in some way... He was waving around a small wooden stick, like a wand. A wand!

"Albus Dumbledore? From Harry Potter? I love those books!"
Eladoriel, after his speech was over, got up and screeched. Nothing in particular, she just screeched. Then, noticing that Menelien was missing she walked off to find her.

"Where have you gotten off to! Menelien... Always disappearing!"

Eladoriel walked through a maze of corridors, rooms, everything. She made sure to mark every room she passed so that she would not get lost. Soon enough, she started hearing some screeching and running a little bit in front of her.

Without even concidering the other posibilities, she just muttered.

"Menelien, what kind of trouble are you getting into now!"
And with that, the young elf ran off to find the source of the footsteps.

[Amanaduial the archer]

Aman heard Bethberry announced by Helkahothion, along with his rendition of 'Whatever' and laughed at the title of the award. She remembered how Bethberry had first regarded her writing, so long ago it seemed now, and winced. The Rohan mod had seemed less than impressed.

But all differences were aside, had left the forum. Aman stood, even as the music was playing, clapping and cheering wildly for the woman who was certainly one of her moderators.

[Airerûthiel]

Once again Neisa was late. She cursed herself as she sneaked into the awards hall, mumbling apologies as she made her way to the nearest empty seat. It was not in her nature to not be punctual, although she ended up not being on time no matter how much she tried. Perhaps it was the fact that she was surrounded by hundreds of people, and they were all celebrating. There was a reason why she never to parties, she reminded herself as she sat down and tried to look as though she was paying attention to the awards ceremony.

Her mother's memory still haunted her. The shrill tones rang in her head, sending shivers down her spine. "Why can't you be more like a lady? Sit up straight, girl! Don't slouch - it's bad for your posture." A white-hot glare at her back, and the swish of skirts and the wagging finger. "Don't you give me that look. Just because your brother doesn't aspire to anything more than a farmer's life and marriage to a peasant girl" - haughty sniff - "doesn't mean you've got to do what he should instead. Tsk! can't you change out of those disgusting trousers for once and put one of your nice dresses on? Those maids slaved for days to make a wardrobe full of gowns for you, and you've never even so much as looked at them. And don't stuff your hands in your pockets and whistle like the stable boy!..."

The shield-maiden gripped the burgundy arms of her chair, her knuckles whitening. She was clearly angry at everything and everyone - at her mother for making her be who she was not, at her father for giving up on life, at her brother for not having the courage to take over from her father, at society for branding her with the 'be perfect' stick because she was female, and at herself for being weak enough to give into these feelings. Her eyes blazed with a ruby fire that disguised a breaking heart as she waited for the next presenter to take to the stage.

[Marileangorifurnimaluim]

Stunned, Dr Marileangorifurnimaluim turned to face the conservatively dressed hobbit lady with the blue hair who had tapped her shoulder.

"Donation...?" Aside from the fact this was the head of the Garden Club which hadn't liked her article at all, Maril couldn't help but think of all the Elvish grants she lived off of... just barely. Her last one had run out, and she was reapplying for next year. She did have an advance on her next book, but that hardly covered --

Suddenly she heard strains of 'Sex Dwarves', and the craggy face of Mrs Chastitybelt in front of her froze in a rictus of pure horror. Maril realised it was suddenly rather bright in here and raised her arm to block off the spotlight.

Spotlight?

There was clapping all around her and she couldn't make any sense of it. Trenton jumped up and down behind her, and yelled, "You won! You won! Hahahahahahaha! That'll teach 'em!"

The doctor turned towards the stage, and dimly recognized that Mithadan held out a golden tombstone to her...

... really? Me? But I've hardly been around and it was just a little article really... Trenton gave her a shove towards the stage.

The microphone squealed as it was adjusted to accomodate her hobbit-stature.

"Um. This is rather unexpected." Maril shoved her glasses up the bridge of her nose and began in her dry, lecturer's voice.

The crowd stiffened. The tone of voice promised a dreary, dull acceptance speech. The scroll that fell out of her hands and unfurled into the orchestra did not bode well either.

"First I'd like to say, on behalf of all those in Books, that we tirelessly argue for canonical purity, and it is rare our scholarly efforts are ever recognized or even make much of an impression..."

BOOOM! Outside there was loud explosion. Clearly the Garden Club had got wind of the award and were ramping up their protest.

"...although, um, this may something of an exception. Ahem. So, ah, I accept this award on behalf of all those scholars in Books, Mr Underhill.."

The main doors began rattling dangerously, the crowd outside hammered in fury at this award. Dr Marileangorifurnimaluim glanced up nervously.

"...oh heck, you know who you are... thank you very much, gotta run --" The doctor bolted off the stage.

Breathing a collective sigh of relief, the crowd exploded with joyous clapping.

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ]

[The Squatter of Amon Rûdh]

Squatter was weak from excessive laughter and his palms were red from much clapping. He had done his best to encourage Vogonwë and Pimpiowyn in their hideous caterwauling by shouting encouragement and calling 'encore!' at the top of his voice at the end of their act, and he had applauded Mithadan's near-fatal collapse as a masterful touch of gallows humour so very apt at this fête macabre. The later re-appearance of Number Four merely confirmed his erroneous conclusion and convinced him that the grey figure was half cut, which elicited yet more applause.

As the lupine chaos in the hall drew to its crescendo, Squatter's laughter had become more of an obstruction to his breathing, to the extent that only a timely swig of Captain Strangereek’s 'Harvest Haemorrhage' and Lush’s rather stylish exit had saved him from asphyxiation. At that moment, as he tried desperately to say his farewells between uncontrollable spasms of mirth, he heard a respectful cough by his shoulder.

Squatter was used to that sort of cough. It was usually followed by phrases like “Don’t you think it’s time you were going home, Sir?” and short, unceremonious trips to the door; but this time it was far, far worse.

'Could you step this way, Sir?' said the official. 'It’s almost time for you to make your presentation.'

'There must be some mistake: I'm not making a presentation' replied Squatter with a feeling of unholy dread.

'I'm afraid we have you down to make one, Sir,' said the attendant inexorably. 'Unless you'd care to take it up with Mr. Mithadan.'

The cold feeling of utter panic that swept over Squatter was better than a pint of black coffee and three cold showers. He rose and followed this harbinger of doom backstage, where he was given, predictably, a pint of black coffee and a bucket of cold water. Once he had made use of these he was given a clean shirt, a gold envelope and a razor and told to be ready in ten minutes. What had happened to his evening?

*****

In the auditorium the applause for Bêthberry's award, some of it no doubt increased by the X-Phial's Homeric achievement in carrying it from the stage at all, was just dying away as the master of ceremonies made his way to the front of the stage. 'And now, Ladies and Gentlemen,' he intoned. 'To present the William McGonagall Memorial Award for the Fit-est Poetic Achievement in an RPG, The Squatter of Amon Rûdh!'

A lone figure entered from the wings (some might almost think he had been pushed). He strode to the podium in a businesslike manner, adjusted the microphone and spake thusly:

'In any Roleplay game based on the works of J.R.R. Tolkien, the standard of its poetry often can make the difference between a profound tribute to a great author and a steaming trough of pigswill.'

There were a number of groans from the audience, but he soldiered on.

'This year, one person has on several occasions awed us all with verse that can only be described as 'unique'. The award for the Fit-est Poetic Achievement in an RPG, in recognition of her performances as Vogonwë Brownbark in The Revenge of the Entish Bow, goes to Diamond 18!'

At that moment the orchestra struck up the theme tune of Murder, She Wrote and all eyes turned to look for its recipient, on whom three spotlights had now converged.

[Diamond18]

The spotlights hit Diamond like the headlights of a three ton eighteen wheeler barreling down the highway in the wrong lane, and she gasped involuntarily as the light from her necklaces bounced up into her eyes. Painfully. A torrent of emotions hit her like a ton of cement blocks and a smidgen of cinnamon (for flavor). An award, for me? she thought, blushing.

When Squatter had taken the stage with such undeniably confident and manly grace, she had not so much as suspected that the reason was for her Own ‘Umble Heepness. (Furthermore, she doubted that many would catch the David Copperfield reference without help, so she provided it, thusly.) But, when the phrase “steaming trough of pigswill” was uttered, there could be no doubt in her mind that this had something to do with her guilty person.

She stood, squinting her eyes in the magnificently maleficent lights, not sure whether she should feel like a movie star, or a prison escapee caught by floodlights. In either case, she made her way up to the stage and graciously accepted the award from Squatter. She gave him an affectionate kiss on the cheek. This was, of course, a completely pure and ladylike kiss—sisterly in nature, so as not to inspire the absent but all knowing Lush to a frenzy of jealous rage. People on magic carpet rides are not to be trifled with. Diamond noted that a strong odor of java and juice clung to Squatter, but hey, what’s a little reeking among friends?

She turned to the audience and held aloft her Golden Tomb of Doom. “I’d like to thank the Wraithadamy,” she said. “And also, Estelyn Telcontar, for making this possible by not taking ‘no’ for an answer; Rimbaud, whose puns inspired me to badness; Squatter, for his endless, um, dubious flattery and lovely presentation speech; Lush, for noticing my innuendo when I didn’t; Bêthberry, for her awesome alliteration, which also inspired my aspirations; Everyone else who graced the Revenge of the Entish Bow with their writing or readership; and Daffy Duck, just because.”

She paused and took a deep breath. “And lastly, but certainly not least, I’d like to thank Vogonwë Brownbark for being so tremendously awful and prolific. Voggy, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

On cue (not to mention that his status as a character made him subject to the beck and call of his mistress) Vogonwë bounded up onto the stage, doing a backward inverted pas de chat over the stair railing. He stopped before Diamond and adjusted his hairbow, gushing, “Thank you, thank you! It is true, I thank you! I thank you for being true!”

“Um…” Diamond got a dreadful sense of déjà vu, and began to feel a little faint. Vogonwë continued:

“I’d like to thank my father for teaching me how to rhyme. I’d like to thank Earnur Etceteron for being my biggest fan: the man was truly a connoisseur of fine Workmudian poetry, in a way that not even the Elves of Workmud were, themselves. I think, a poem is in—”

He was unceremoniously cut off by Diamond, who utilized her award as a silencer, clobbering him over the head with the blunt end of the Downie. He crumpled (gracefully) to the floor, an expression of utter inanity gracing his finely wrought half-Elven features.

Diamond blew kisses to the crowd, and bowed before returning to her seat.

[ May 08, 2003: Message edited by: Diamond18 ]

[Arafangwen]

Arafangwen nervously walked to the rear stage entrance.

"What is your buisness?" asked a particularly mean looking orc.

"I'm to present an award tonight, my name is Arafangwen." she said as calmly as she could, she had never been confronted by an orc before.

"I see you're on the list, go on in." he said with a grunt.

Arafangwen walked up the stairs and through the seemingly endless hallway until she finaly reached the crowd waiting in the wings.

"I'm ready to present my award now." she said timidly to Mithadan. He nodded, so she decided that it meant yes and proceded to smooth her dress and walk out onto the overwhelmingly large stage.

"Hello Barrow Downers!" she said with mirth in her voice.
"Hello!" came the responce from a third of the crowd or so, the rest were sure to be asleep.

"Tonight I have a very special award to present." she said trying not to sound to silly, she had never spoken on stage before and was so nervous that she was almost giggling.

"No adue will be made as I'm no good at that sort of stuff anyways. So, The Wierdest Taste Award for Adoration of Denethor and Wormtongue goes to, drumroll please!" she said with a smile, wanting the anticipation to grow.

"Meela!" she announced with a smile as polka music started plating in the background, the crowd erupted with cheers and whoops, even though the award was a strange one.

"Unfortunatly, she couldn't be here, so here to accept this award for her is, Denethor!" she cried out once more, happy that she hadn't made a fool of herself as Denethor ran up to the stage to accept the award and dash off with a smile. Smiling, Arafangwen walked off the stage and back into the wings, then proceded to return to her seat by Firondoiel and LinGalad with a sigh of relife.

[Samwise]

After much searching, the group still could not find where Frodo and the others were seated, so they took an unused group of seats in the back.

"Papa, why do we have to stay here?" Primrose asked, yawning without trying to hide it.

Stacey was inclined to agree, as they couldn't find Frodo and the others anyway, and why should they put themselves through this any longer....

"Because your uncle asked us to." Sam said stoutly. "We're not leavin' 'til we find him an' th' others or this thing is over. "

Stacey leaned over and whispered in Primrose's ear. "Don't worry, we'll leave when the time is right; humor your dad. Besides, you wouldn't want to upset your Uncle Frodo, would you? "

The hobbit girl sighed, then shook her head.

Stacey looked over at Tennyson and Mimi, who had fallen asleep on each other's shoulders. She grinned, glad she had brought her camera. "

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Samwise ]

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

Menelien was still running. She thought she heard Eladoriel's voice behind her now, calling her. Why does that girl think it is her duty to act like a strict mother? she wondered, quickening her pace. In front of her, Pio and the people after her were still moving too, though they sounded to be tiring. She thought she heard wolf-feet... She kept running, finally catching view of the last one running, a girl, she thought. She put on an extra burst of speed, she was catching up... and then she tripped on something lying on the floor (a familiar experience...) fell, knocking down the girl in front of her as well, and as Eladoriel rounded the corner she fell into the heap as well. Get off... was the only thing Menelien could think just about then.

[Firondoiel]

Firondoiel enthusiastically applauded the winners then watched with great interest as her friend, Arafangwen presented an award. When Denethor came down the aisle to recieve it she leaned over to LinGalad.

"We better keep a close eye on him." Firondoiel whispered.

"Don't worry. He had to surrender weapons at the door." LinGalad reassured.

"It's not weapons I'm worried about! It's matches." Firondoiel hissed back.

"Firondoiel, for him, matches count as weapons." LinGalad said.

"Oh, good point." Firondoiel leaned back feeling relieved.

Arafangwen finally made it back to them and took her seat."You did good." Firondoiel said.

"You think so?" Arafangwen asked.

"I know so!" Firondoiel grinned.

Arafangwen smiled back and they both turned back towards the stage.

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Firondoiel ]

[Salix]

Salix crept into the room and found a seat at the back. She had been a bit busy ever since Friday, and now had no clue what was going on. She sat quietly awaiting the next award.

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Salix ]

[Marileangorifurnimaluim]

"Breaking news, we are taking you to the Downie awards, where the head of the conservative Garden Club has been arrested..."

Returning to an earlier moment in the Downie Awards:

"You!"

The hobbitish voice was shrill, and pierced the crowd. The voice could stop a riot. Heck, it could probably shatter glass. The doctor paused in her flight, blinking.

"How dare you speak of canonic- canin- caninical pure anything with the filth that you have spread about our beloved Shire!" The voice rose, and the crowd winced. "And corrupting young hobbits like my nephew here!"

Lousewort Chastitybelt caught the arm of Dr Maril's date.

"Come, Trenton, we're leaving."

Trenton chortled, and shook off her hand with a lazy flick of his wrist. "Auntie. Just who do you think that article was about?"

Cuts away to image of Mrs Louswort Chastitybelt lunging at the stage as the Uruk-hai haul her away:

"This is your fault, you - you doctor! You did this to him! You corrupted him with your filthy writing! I will not cease in my efforts --!"

Cuts away to newscasters:

"Bail has been set at 100,000 gold standard."

Anchorman flashes a perfect smile at the camera.

"So, Harold, what kind of weather can we expect for the weekend?"

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ]

[Marileangorifurnimaluim]

Edit: Shoot, Diamond, we're going to have to coordinate this better. LOL! PM me.

-Maril

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Marileangorifurnimaluim ]

[Samwise]

Primrose sat in her seat and yawned loudly; which wasn't very ladylike, but then, Primrose was hardly ever ladylike.

Sam turned three different shades of red.

Stacey grabbed Prim's hand. "Prim, grab your bow. I'll take you outside to shoot at...well, something. Tell us, Sam, if you ever run into Frodo."

Sam nodded, though he looked as if he were about to fall asleep, too.

Stacey left the building with Primrose, who immideately ran for the trees.

What are we doing here, anyway? Stacey wondered. Not only is this as boring as all get-out, but we're being ignored on top of it. Oh, well....I hope it's over, soon....PLEASE don't let this be as long as last year's party......

She sighed heavily and headed after Primrose.

[Morai]

Morai had long since entered the ceremony, Harlon dragging the computer over all the seats. Seated in the back, hoping not to be noticed, they set up the machinery. Attendees of the Downies often found themselves tripping over the phone cord. Harlon continuously shouting apologies:

"Sorry! We're too poor, so we have a dial-up service! Sorry!"

The girl was busy with school work, home work, and endless nothiness of her life. Morai paused in between math problems to cheer for those she knew. Finally when Aylwen Dreamson recieved her Downie, Morai jumped up, throwing the Compaq from her lap.Darn it all! I really need a laptop!
Harlon helped her piece it back together as he related the latest events of the Downie Awards.

"Really! Mithandan out cold? Figures, that guy probably passed out of exaughstion. Geeze all those lazy RPGers giving him a hard time, tis no surprise to me!" Morai ranted.

"No...somebody gave him a golden apple award that poision him, most likely a sleep drug."
Harlon replied.

"Ha! I still say it's from working too hard!"

Harlon Nowane rolled his eyes. He wondered if there was a award for "most unusual character in a RPG" and, if he was considered.

[ May 07, 2003: Message edited by: Morai ]

[Samwise]

Sam stood up on his chair and scanned the crowd for Frodo, but there still seemed to be no sign of him, Elrond, Cromthal, or Isildae. He sighed.

"Oh, well. Guess bein' bored an' lonely's better 'n' bein' a snack for a couple o' Orcs." he said to himself, sitting back down.

[kittiewhirl1677]

What in the world... Eladoriel thought, rubbing the sores all over her body. She was in a heap with Menelien and another girl.

"Menelien, where are you off to? I woke up and you were gone, so I started wondering what exciting trouble you got yourself into this time. So I ended up following you here. But what is going on here?"

"Dunno. I just woke up and went for a stroll. Then I heard running, and started running too..."

Rubbing her sores, Eladoriel stood up and looked down at the unconscious girl. They had hit the girl pretty hard, wacked her alomst. She was at the bottom of the heap.

"So what do we do now?" Eladoriel asked Menelien, tapping her foot impatiently.

[GaladrieloftheOlden]

"God, El, haven't you knocked out enough people by now to know what to do?" Seeing Eladoriel's uncomprehending look, Menelien said quickly "scratch that. Make sure she isn't too badly hurt, find a couch, somewhere, put her ono it, leave her. She'll come 'round soon enough. If she is badly hurt, you'll take her with you." "But... how about you?" "Oh... I have to get ready to present the award I have to" Menelien lied quickly. She didn't need to get ready... she'd do it spontaneously... she dashed off, leaving a slightly helpless looking Eladoriel with the unconsious girl.

[Frodo Baggins]

Cromthal sat bored out of his mind, plucking idly at his harp, he looked up for a moment and saw Sam. He stood up on a chair and waved like a maniac.


"SAM! SAm over here!! Where's the other's?

Frodo yawned cavernously "hmm a bit drab hm, Sam? Where's Primmy?"

[kittiewhirl1677]

"Menelien! What in the world?"

But the elf was gone, leaving Eladoriel all alone with the unconscious girl. She dragged her to a nearby resting room, and put her on the couch. Then she went to the refreshment table and got some water. She brought it back and started pouring it on the girl's face.

She slowly began to regain consciousness. She groaned, and started talking.

[Airehiriel]

Airehiriel had started to doze in the back of the hall, but when she heard the award for Meela she jumped up and clapped with joy. She'd known Meela for a few months, and knew that no one could escape her love of Grima and Denethor. She was so excited for her friend, she jumped up and down clapping with a broad smile on her face. Unfortunately, on her last jump, she didn't land correctly on her heels, and fell over.
She looked around making sure no one had seen that embarrasing display.

"Stupid shoes!" she said to herself. Then she took both of them off, and threw them out an open door.

"Much better." she thought. Just then an Orc walked in rubbing it's head and carrying one of her shoes. Her eyes widened with fear. She slide down the wall, and covered up her feet with her dress.

The Orc looked at her. "Is this yours?" He asked with a snarl.

A fake look of shock appeared on her face. She shook her head no.

"I think it came from over there." She said, waving in no specific direction. "I saw it fly by a minute ago."

The Orc took one look at the assembled crowd, growled and shrugged his shoulders. When he went out through the door, Airehiriel breathed a sigh of relief.

"That was close! What a clutz." She said as she settled in for more of the show.