Picnic At The Bonfire Glade

[Mithadan]

The Wight blinked twice and stared up at the tree. Then, acting as if trees spoke to him every day, he responded, "Um, yes sir...uh, Ma'am...uh, yes, tree. I am bound for the Glade. Ouch!" One of the cats had chosen to insert its claws into his calf at that moment. "If I return this way, I shall give you news of the events, and certainly send others over to speak with you, root-bound as you are."

Looking about to make sure no one had seen him talking to a tree, he hurried on.

[piosenniel]

Pervinca had made her excuses, once the introductions and a few pleasantries had passed between them. She had spied the food, and it drew her on.

Lassiël drew back under the trees and watched the gathering for a few moments. Such life! Discordant at times, to be sure. But lovely, nonetheless.

She heard the comment of an elder tree come from a distance. 'Ah, he wishes to attend the festivities, and sighs because he cannot.'

Hastening to the place from whence the voice had come, she stood before the old and mighty tree, and regarded him gravely.

He stirred lazily when she touched a low hanging branch. The leaves greened about her fingers and a curious sensation of liveliness spread toward the trunk. He came to full attention as she addressed him.

'Rootbound?! I think not, Master Oak. I know no one at this party and have need of a companion. It would be pleasing if you would accompany me - at least to the edge of the glade. There you and I might watch the festivities, and enjoy some pleasant conversation.'

She smiled impishly at him, and he felt his roots loose themselves from the soil about them. He flexed them and found that they had become limber now and capable of movement.

'Come then!' she said, grasping the handlike branch he offered her. 'Let us make our way, and see all we can.'

The trees about them opened a pathway, closing silently behind them as they made their slow approach to the party.

[Eol]

The oak walked along the elf, pleased.

"It has been ages since past that I been though these parts. No reason has drawn from the post that I have love so dear. A party people cheer: of the tarts, fruits and pies. Oh the wine and the drink will be plenty, I see." The ancient tree laughed. "Ah about your youth brings life to the ancient libs they do! It would be good to see my friend the ash, the pine and the yew. Thank you, friend, for a reason to come and join with you."

The oak saw the the cats wandering between the bushes and the trees. "My what a sight, these cats, are to see!"
The oak returned the attention back to the companion. "Tell me, friend, what wind brings you, as it seem far from your hearth? "

[ September 19, 2002: Message edited by: Eol ]

[piosenniel]

'An Elf!' she thought to herself. 'Again I am mistaken for one of the First Born.' She shook her head. 'Has it been so long that all memory has faded, even from this Ancient Forest? I wonder now if this is why she sent me?'

She turned toward her amiable companion and responded to his question. 'A fair wind and a swift ship brought me over the straight and starry way, my friend. Far, indeed, from my hearth!'

They had reached the edge of the glade, stepping just past the line of trees which ringed it.

'Do you wish to rest a while here?' she asked the oak. 'Or shall we continue on in to the midst of the festivities?'

[Eol]

"I shall rest here, as this place is fine for me. I can see the festivities and enjoy the laughter. Go one now, friend and enjoy yourself.I am bit of a old for such things!"

[ September 19, 2002: Message edited by: Eol ]

[Elenna]

As Elenna and Pearl set the flowers and the food out on the table, Elenna gaped at the variety of people that had gathered for this party.

"Is that a wight?" she asked herself as she saw the shadowy figure some distance away. "And a wraith?" She fingered the hilt of the dagger she held in a shoulder sheath under her tunic. But then she noticed that no one else was alarmed by these partygoers, and she relaxed, turning her attention back to the flowers.

[Eol]

The oak tree laugh and slid the root back into the ground. From the the edge ended, the varity of people could be seen: hobbits, elves, humans and wraiths.

"Curious indeed!" The ancient tree shook its branches and adjusted its bough. The forest was loud, more so then before. Many of the trees were talking. There were still many who had not awaken yet from their slumber. The whole seemed to vibrate with activity. This was quite a party. As a sentry, this was quite unusal.

[The Fifth]

"Elven?" hissed the Ringwraith. "Of course not! For I come from the land of Mordor, and I serve the Dark Lord!"

He looked back at those who stared at him and his new ghost "friend" with his invisible face. He then looked back at Pellador.

"Where do thee come from?" He asked, a bit curious. Sniffing the air for a moment, he could detect the scent of elves.. yuck... and.. a fox? All of these strange new scents mingled in and confused the Ringwraith quite a bit.

[Bêthberry]

Three owls burst forth out of the thicket at the edge of the Glade as the branches of the viburnum, elderberry and illex bushes swayed and then were parted to reveal a woman of middle height and indeterminate age. Her copper-coloured hair was plaited down her back rather than wreathed around her head. Instead of her usual knee-high boots, her feet were covered by leather sandals, tooled in oakleaf designs and tied around her ankles with leather laces. She wore not her usual green jerkin but a long yellow tunic-dress which fell near to her ankles. It was held at each shoulder by silver pins enamelled with designs of rosemary, sage and borage leaves. At her waist she bore a belt of silver worked in a chain of clematis bloom and hydrangea petals.

She stumbled out a bit, but kept her balance as she wiped spider webs from her dark blue cloak and shook leaves and even a twig or two out of her hair.

Oh gracious. You are all here already and I am late. Why, did you all take the short route and not the long way? You missed strolling through the trees? They are so very much excited by all you two-legged creatures. Why, they haven't seen so many people here since the hobbits bur--well, perhaps I'll save that story for later. Oh but I do see some of you have been quite particular about how you care for the Forest. Why, at least two, no three if I am not mistaken, of you are not even leaving your footprints behind.

Forgive Goldberry's brief appearance. This is the busiest time of the year for her, preparing for the splendors of autumn. But at least we have yet the last few mellow days of summer. Thank goodness the tables are prepared and laden with food! I'm thirsty if you are not. Allow me to draw the first pint of beer. And I'm sure there's lemonade and punch for those with milder other tastes.

The woman then proceeded to hammer a wooden spigot into the first barrel, caught the brew in a mug, and raised it high to all:

A drink to the health of the Forest,
A toast to the wealth of the Downs,
May all of you placate the spirits,
Afore you leave these grounds.

The huddle of hobbit children started to giggle watching the woman say this, for a spider web still was caught on her cloak and hand, and it appeared as if she was going to swallow the web as she sipped the mug.

[ September 20, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[VanimaEdhel]

Estelarion and Menelduliniel greeted Elendur warmly, embracing him. They watched as he moved on to greet others he knew.

Menelduliniel looked around in awe at all that gathered around her.

"There must be royalty here!" Menelduliniel whispered to Estelarion, "I wish I knew who everybody was!"

"That is a wight, that's a fox, there's a white dog, there's a wraith," Estelarion said, uneasily. He had been uncomfortable since the wraith and the wight had showed up. The undead were not known to be pleasant party guests...

Ai! I am definitely getting stabbed tonight! Estelarion kept thinking to himself, sourly. He had been very hesitant to leave their baggage by the tree, as his bow and his trusty meat cleaver (OOC: compliments of Ransom's character, Revanas, in a previous RPG) were packed away. However, Menelduliniel had seemed thrilled to dispose of her weapons.

Estelarion looked around and saw she had disappeared. He looked around quickly, and saw her approaching the wraith.

Elbereth Gilthoniel! Estelarion thought, Here we go...please do not make him mad, Meneli...

--------------------

Menelduliniel made her way towards the wraith.

"Suilannon!" Menelduliniel greeted the wraith, formally, smiling excitedly, "May I ask who you are and what brings you here?"

[ September 20, 2002: Message edited by: VanimaEdhel ]

[Alkanoonion]

After watching the party from the edge of the field Alkanoonion decided to join but was feeling shy. “Ah I know what I need”, "I see that the food is prepared and the beer open maybe I will have a drink to calm my nerves"

As he made his way across the field a cat that had suddenly appeared from out of no ware tripped the elf. The elf made for a comical appearance in his bright blue pants and a classing yellow top trying to keep his balance windmilling his hands, the basket which was at this time still in his hands went flying across the field and landed in a wine vat making a large splash.

Feeling embarrassed by the accident the elf quickly grabbed the basket out of the vat. And then quickly made his way back to the edge of the field…

[GreatWarg]

The fox had taken to wandering the crowd, occasionally talking to a tree or two, and even a few of the Wood Elves from the distant realm of Thingol. The wraith seem ill pleased at the fox, for some reason or another, so the canine let it be. The peculiar poet was also looking at the crowd, and the fox had had a nice brush with him.

Quite a likeable Man, really, the fox had thought. But the horse spirit was quite unnerving, and so also was the knight. Some sort of walking dead horror was there.

A gentle wind blew, and several more rose petals swirled around the field in little gusts of wind. They all seemed to be attracted to the Ringwraith, however strange that may seem. A white rose petal touched the fox's nose, and the fox sat down, smiling at it.

But at that moment, he heard Lady Goldberry singing, singing a song of soothing calm, that was evidently to several travellers who had been caught in Old Many Willow's nets.

I do hope they are all right. I was supposed to see to it that none get caught. Perhaps I should seek out the Lady? With that in mind, the fox immediately dashed off to Lady Goldberry and the Master.

[Lugbúrz]

Parties are very boring things, awfully stupid, in fact they are a complete waste of time, especially if you get invited to them, and more so if you don't get any presents (for yourself, that is), to speak the truth there is only one way to enjoy a party.

It is with these profound words of wisdom that I take you to this party, a party long long ago, from a gala... ahem! As I was saying, people make complete fools of themselves at parties, and that is why I like them so much.

Now I take you to a familiar scene: A Party.

Why is this party being thrown? It seems it is to celebrate the world still standing on warm feet.

Where is this party? Actually we'll have to get a larger view of to tell you that... Middle Ea... well not that large... Ah, yes, in a good old forest.

These party animals, these! They seem to have deforested a good patch just to make merry! O, you say that was done a while ago to prevent trees taking over the land? I'd say!

Here we see our typical party goer, in fact he has partied so much that he's dead. But he still wanted to make it here, and what does he have to say? He asks us to always keep our word. Wonder where he comes from.

And now we see that there are always those people who like to wear costumes, the talking tree, the talking fox, the talking elf... wait a minute, an elf!! Ooooooo, defintely an elf, actually more than one of them.

There are the usual peoples from far away, some small dwarves, some smaller dwarves, with beards in their feet, some Wraith, some Wight, wait a minute, let us see what the Wight has to say... what? He says he's been doing some work for King Elessar? Now excuse me but with the ringwraith here don't you think that is a bit of a spoiler? I mean, are you quite sure you belong here... Ahem! Next time we choose people who don't own this place, okay?

Now where were we, ah yes! The classic problem in parties, is that the host is often completely sidelined. Let us ask this cloaked gentleman who the host is: Tom Bombadil? Who're you my kind Sir? Gandalf! So tell me dear Sir: Who is Tom Bombadil? Where did that wizard go?

Now we shall show you the festivities: there are lots of baskets all around the place, looks like a pot-luck. Let's ask this nice Nazgul what is in his basket. Nothing? Ah, yes, always those who think they can have a feast and bring nothing to it. Filthy wraith. Let us ask this very small girl. So all the baskets are empty?

What an interesting party this is!

[Mithadan]

The Wight walked carefully into the Glade. Carefully because the cats were still crowding about his legs. Funny animals, cats. If you step on them, they hiss and spit and use their claws to try and climb up your leg, presumably to get at your face. Not quite sure though, didn't wait around to find out. Now I just walk carefully instead.

He walked slowly through the growing crowd. Behind him he heard hisses and people crying out things like "Ouch". He noticed that the other guests were giving him a wide berth. Must be the cats.

The Wight proceeded to the refreshment stand. A man was serving chilled ale, just the thing after a long walk. "Might I have one please?" he asked. The barkeep poured a pint and turned to serve it...and froze.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You're a Wight!" the barkeep cried.

"Well, yes. Don't be concerned. What do you think I'll do? Steal your soul?" He smiled.

The barkeep fainted dead away, dropping the pint as he fell. Why do they always do that?

[GreatWarg]

The fox sniffled, overhearing a comment about some Wight. Really, some people are just so... The fox stopped frozen in its tracks. There happened to really BE a Wight, standing there calmly and naturally, staring at a man who had fainted and was now sprawled across the ground, beer staining his white shirt and wetting the ground around him.

When they say you don't know what you might meet in the Old Forest, they really do mean it, don't they? the fox thought to itself. The odd poet, seeing the Wight, quickly dipped the feather quill into his pockets and quickly scribbled something in his book. Once again, the page ended up on the ground.

Well hullo, Wight. Good to meet you, the fox said politely, nodding his furry red head at the undead creature. What brings you to these parts? Though the answer was quite obvious.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Dismounting from the black horse Midnight, Gandalf strode towards the glade. A steady and determined clopping of heavy hooves followed. For Midnight wanted to follow the wizard, and would not willingly be stopped. The former wraith horse at first exchanged a wary stare of recognition with the current wraith horse gulping down apples. Snorting, the now free creature soon turned away from its former stable companion and concentrated on making its way into the picnic area behind Gandalf. Whereas Gandalf had physically restrained Midnight from entering the doors of the Trade Inn at Sarn Ford and the log cabin hideout of the Rangers, the grey-clad Cloaked Picnic Guest now smiled encouragingly at the horse, welcoming Midnight to come along. *

* Except for these two, the path was now empty, tread smooth by earlier arrivals. Gandalf thought he sensed something. A strange melding of disjointed almost-memories, mingling with a cacaphony of voices, voices high and shrill with merry laughter, deep and low with hidden whispers. It was as though the throng around the feasting tables were every single one of them looking together into Galadriel's mirror simultaneously, swirling the water into a hundred shades of blue and green, sweeping around to create a whirlpool of alternate pasts, presents, and futures. Guests of a myriad of races converged on the Bonfire Glade Picnic. The whole of Time Itself converged as well ... now bent, now straightening, now a flickering chimera, now solid reality. *

* The convergence of Time weighed down the wizard, wearying him so that he bent imperceptibly lower on his staff. Midnight brushed against his side, offering to be ridden. Gandalf declined this kindness, with an affectionate pat of the horse's mane. *

* Approaching the edge of the glade, a fox darted across the path with a basket in its mouth. *

* Catching sight of a man from so remote a part of Middle Earth that even Gandalf was puzzled as to where he came from, the wizard bowed a greeting. The man was dark-haired with a slight beard, wearing a helm notable for its plume of long feathers, and he carried four quivers. *

* Then Gandalf and Midnight came upon the source of the screeching they'd heard earlier ... a Nazgûl. Gandalf readied himself mentally against the wraith, just in case. *

* Meneli and Estelarion shouted a greeting from across the greensward. Gandalf smiled and returned their wave, and began making his way over towards them. It was only natural that these two Elves should be here ... and even more in keeping with their usual tradition of eager fun-loving impetuous haste, that they should arrive before he did up the Greenway from Sarn Ford. *

* Suddenly, Gandalf laughed good-naturedly and looked over at a long-time friend. His weariness was lifted by the mirthful puns that came to his mind through the words of Bethberry's toast:

"May you placate the spirits" -- Now, that would refer to the red wine he was about to drink.

"Afore you leave these grounds" -- Yes, that surely must have been coffee he smelled on the way here. *

* And then there was the odd chance that maybe even Gollum had received a picnic basket. *

[ September 20, 2002: Message edited by: Gandalf_theGrey ]

[The Fifth]

The wraith noticed the snort of a horse. He could recognize that snort immediately: it was his former steed. He then sensed something else. One of the three Elven Rings.

The Ringwraith drifted towards the cloaked guest, leaving the ghost behind. He also saw the horse, who was now named Midnight. A new sense of hate came within his already tormented, dark mind.

"But Alas! old enemies have arrived!" The wraith hissed, apparently greeting his 'old enemy' who had slain him about a month ago. But, after his spirit had floated off into the sky, it journeyed towards Mordor, where Sauron himself granted the wraith another body. From all of that, he was quite weary of the world.

He examined the cloaked guest, looking for any visible weapons. He was sure that the wizard-enemy was doing the same, and noticing that the sword from his sheath was gone.

And so with that, he strode over towards Midnight, gurgling angrily at the horse. The steed whinnied loudly in response to this, rearing up from the hateful fear that the wraith emitted, the horse's eyes becoming white-ringed and wild once more as painful memories came back to the horse's mind. The wraith had also noticed that all of the armor had been cast off.

[Cuthalion]

Grinning broadly after his reception, Elendur looks around for other acquaintances and spies Revanas on the other side of the Glade.

Giving a wide berth to both Nazgul and cloaked wizard, he strode over and hailed his friend, who looked startled at first then greeted him warily. Both of them felt out of place in such a setting, Elendur in a way more so as he had never been to this forest of ii-repute.

[ September 23, 2002: Message edited by: Cuthalion ]

[Elenna]

Elenna, walking over to get a mug of ale, stifled a giggle when she saw the barkeeper pass out after seeing the wight.

"Honestly," she thought to herself. "This is a party, not a war."

Then she picked up a tankard and filled it from the barrel herself. Handing it to the darksome wight, she then poured another.

"Well, friend Wight, what brings you here, and what scared yon bartender so?"

[piosenniel]

Lassiël caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. She walked toward him, and he smiled at the elanor and niphredil which sprang up where she trod.

Taking a glass of red wine from the table near him, she saluted him, her eyes twinkling merrily in greeting.

'How nice to see a familiar face and renew old friendships!' she said, smiling and raising her glass to her lips for a sip. 'It's good to see you, Olorin. How do you fare?'

[Mithadan]

The Wight nodded to the passing fox before responding to Elenna. "Not the slightest idea, thank you. But it happens often. I visited the Prancing Pony once. The fat barkeep chased me out with a broom." He sighed. The race of Man doesn't seem to take to me, really. Don't understand that there's business and pleasure and never the twain shall meet, I guess." He drained his pint. "Ah, speaking of business..."

Elenna excused herself hurriedly and found a less haunted corner of the picnic.

[Bêthberry]

Our narrator continues his efforts:

Most assuredly most did seek faster routes. They were arriving at the Glade and beginning to mingle far in advance of the mysterious host or hostess (although that elf Elendur in that vat could be mistaken for the enigmatic host, if taste in haberdashery meant anything).

They also arrived far in advance of that most merciful of ice-breakers, the opening of the kegs. Now that was an installation (instillation?)devoutly desired. Why that woman chose to present herself attired in spider web and dried leaves is anyone's guess. Perhaps some kind of family ritual or style.

I suppose this picnic began as many such events do, although this particular Hot Earth Society did display a remarkable sense of wit and purpose. There was a fair bit of aimless movement to and fro, here and there, as more and more of the guests approached the Glade and sought positions advantageous to their interests, like seeking like in many cases or their very opposites for those with a taste for more daring company. Some weren't quite sure who they should chat up. Where was Gandalf when he was needed? This is an expected party after all.

Certainly that gracious elf Kueronez deserved better treatment at the hands of that Wraith, but, after all, what can one expect of the Nazgul? He certainly was making a scene of himself and provided quite the entertainment for hobbit young. Now, often the innocence of youth can produce bad manners, but so far this Blister and Cami and the quiet one with the beribboned hair whose eyes and wit take in much had behaved not outrageously. So too that human Pearl. Still, they were being heard rather than seen. Yes, hobbit young are more forward these days. Just look at how that Pervinca Took upbraided the Mysterious Green Lady. She floateth lovely as a cloud. Hmm. Perhaps I shall pass that on to the poet.

Speaking of poets, I wonder if 'tis true what is said of him, that he discards wantonly pages of verse and paper. Does he think whence comes those pages? The Forest shall gain its recompense. He shall be made to recite thrice over, I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree. Although such doggerel mayhap offend the taste of the goodly Dame who rescues hobbits. Sadly, it might send her running, in directions away from the Picnic, not a happy state of affairs for those who would know more of her.

Obviously these are new age elves come to the Picnic. They have left the dour ones home moping. Good for them. But as for dignity, I should say this Meneldulineil and Estelarion, this Elenachliet, this Cuthalion and one Elenna-of-the-Homework-Blues, well, perhaps dignity is not compatible with this enthusiasm and joie du vivre which they display. So be it.

And ah what wonders come forth from the equinox sun. A veritable Aesop's Fables. The dog Feaer that talks. A talking wall--a brick wall? More cats than Madeleine had beds. And ent that old oak wonderful. With all respect, he is a pure feat of imagination, a marvellous creation. Let him give Old Man Willow a run for the money. And the Fox, cleverly sniffing out the action. Some grapes, shrewd Reynard?

And this source, this Sir Pellandor, this always-deferred referent. Capital fellow. He shall prove the challenge when those Hollywood writers are forced to deal with this Picnic. Unless they look to real talent and hire me. Or Underhill.

And would that many in Eriador had the good manners of the ancient easterling Ransom, a credit to his tribe. He deserves the commendations of the lady in yellow and blue, if ever she ceases that prattle with the Wight.

And what pray tell are These eyes in the woods? Sounds quite too suspiciously like a maudlin Canadian rock group. They bear watching. Or dragging out.

And for Eru's sake where did that pompous bit of hot air come from--the one who assaulted the Wraith--assaulted a wraith, no less. Who let her into the party? Mean-spirited party pooper.

The numbers swell. Events proceed apace.

[ September 21, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[Elenna]

"Well, I suppose I should be glad that he is here for pleasure..." Elenna muttered to herself as she wandered over the grass. "Still, he is an interesting character."

Clutching her tankard in her hand, she glanced around, looking for someone a little less frightening to speak with.

[Aradaewen]

All activity ceased as the picnic-ers heard their newest arrival. Indeed, they heard before they saw her, for she was unused to such enclosed space as forest. Trees tried to squeeze out of her way, and she took great care not to squash any seedlings. When she entered their midst from the northeast, all present felt their jaws drop. A red dragon, maybe a touch smaller than the legendary Smaug of the Lonely Mountain, this glittering collossus (sp?) arched her neck proudly and they caught the familiar sight of a wicker basket. When she spoke, though it was a whisper, the low rumble caused some of the more delicate-eared creatures to cover the features, "I see that the festivities have started. I'm sorry if I have interrupted anything?" Nobody answered, just stared. She shrugged, placed her basket on the ground, and curled up in the smallest area her massive bulk would allow.

[Bêthberry]

The woman in the gold tunic-dress noticed that people seemed to be avoiding the Wight despite his pleasant intentions. This was a pity, always to be trailing clouds of doom. She walked over to him jauntily, wiping away what spider webs she could, although they were clingy, and smiled the most beatific smile she could upon him.

Have we met before? I don't recall seeing you in your current state, she said. It wasn't an original line, but it would have to do, seeing as it was fitting.

I beg your pardon? he inquired politely. He was the soul of politeness and patience, it appeared. Or the empty soul?

Well, I mean, you must be a new one. A new Wight. I don't remember you.

Should you? he asked with some curiosity.

Well, I grew up in these parts, right on the edge of the Downs. I used to play hide and seek with the Wights among the standing stones and barrow mounds.

It was the Wight's turn to look incredulous as he was taken a bit aback by this claim. You don't say, he said and then slightly blushed--well, as much as a wight can blush-- at the banality of the line.

Oh indeed, yes. We used to play tricks on the Numenoreans when they came to fell the forest. If it weren't for the Wights, no doubt the Old Forest here would have been lost as most of the others were as well.

This was news to this Wight. He had never quite imagined the Numenoreans in that light before.

And you don't fear the Downs or the Wights? he asked somewhat suspiciously.

Oh no, she answered. You might say death has no dominion over me. She giggled and then smothered a chortle at the line. She had not donne such a bad line in some time--well, at least not since Wednesday. But I do respect them tremendously.

[ September 20, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]

[VanimaEdhel]

Menelduliniel, seeing that none of these strange new creatures seemed to care at all about her, went over to Elendur and embraced him again.

"I am sorry I did not say 'Suilannon' in more words, my friend, but look at all these guests!" Menelduliniel said excitedly.

As she said that, the dragon sauntered into the clearing.

"Elbereth Gilthoniel!" Menelduliniel shouted in surprise. From across the glade, the wraith gave a shout of pain. Menelduliniel flinched, "I am sorry!" she shouted in apology. Meneli grabbed Elendur's arm, "Look at the dragon, Elendur! Look at the dragon! By the way, how is Allegra?"

[GreatWarg]

The fox continued trotting on his way, making a ring around before bumping into the red dragon.

O hullo, Mistress Dragon! I do hope I haven't interrupted your snooze. I was watching how Gandalf and the Ringwraith would fare. They seem to be staring daggers at one another, the fox said politely, delighted at finding (maybe) someone to talk to who would understand. I'm from around here, you know. The Woods aren't that bad when you get used to the trees whispering, but the beasts leave the trees alone, and the trees go on their own way. Where do you come from, if I may inquire? The fox was rather talkative, and enjoyed a good long conversation. In fact, to tell the truth, other foxes often wearied of hearing him speak so much so quickly, and the slower beasts like bears rarely caught anything that was said.

[Aradaewen]

The dragon was happy to speak with such an obliging creature. "My name is Rada, and I am the sister of Smaug. (gasps from all within hearing range) I came to the Lonely Mountain looking for him and was driven off by the dwarves and men there. I am have no idea why that is, and I cannot find my brother." The fox eagerly filled her in about Smaug's reign of terror...

[Ransom]

“Daddy, where are we going?”

Revanas shifted unconforatably in his saddle. Chashing orks to Mordor was easy compared to taking his nine-year old daughter to a party. This is not to say that she was a naughty child. By all accounts, she was very well behaved.

“We’re going to the picnic, remember?”

A beautiful wicker basket hung from Revanas’s double-bladed glaive, where his daughter insisted that it looked nice. Revanas could invent his own fighting style and take on any ork in hand-to-hand combat, yet he still did not understand how a picnic basket looked pretty on a weapon. Shrugging, he grabbed both the glaive and the basking, keeping the former and allowing Sara to carry the latter.

They made a rather comical pair. One was about an inch over six feet and armored like a turtle. Another stood barely above three and a half feet. One carried a seven foot weapon over his shoulder. The other lugged a two-foot long picnic basket.

The clearing appeared like a thunderhead in a clear sky. It seemed to open out of nowhere, and both Revanas and Sara took some time to survey the growing crowd. A red dragon seemed slightly miserable in one courner, and a barbarian that looked vaguely familiar wandered through the heavily laden tables.

Apparently Menelduliniel and Estelarion were here, and Menelduliniel was gracing another group of innocents with her social skills. Hmph.

“Greetings, friend Revanas.”

Revanas turned to see Elendur emerge out of the swirling crowd. It was good to see a familiar face here. They conversed for a short time before a clear elvish voice interuppted them.

"I am sorry I did not say 'Suilannon' in more words, my friend, but look at all these guests!"

Menelduliniel never seemed to run out of energy, and she was clearly showing it.

"Elbereth Gilthoniel!" Menelduliniel shouted in surprise. From across the glade, the wraith gave a shout of pain. Menelduliniel flinched, "I am sorry!" she shouted in apology. Meneli grabbed Elendur's arm, "Look at the dragon, Elendur! Look at the dragon! By the way, how is Allegra?"

Sara did not give Elendur time to respond before dropping the picnic basket and enveloping Menelduliniel’s legs in a hug. “Auntie Menelduliniel! I missed you!”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++

Across the field, Ransom caught sight of the newcomer. How could he forget this man?

They had met over three ago. Ransom was returning from a raid on a Easterling caravan when he ran across a lone fighter houlding off a dozen orcs. A dozen arrows later, the two men met for the first time by knocking each other flat. Their friendship had lasted until the present.

Ransom turned around and rambled back towards the enterence, careful to keep in the shadows. He drew his sword slowly. Sara caught sight of him, and knew what was coming next. She simply clung to Menelduliniel’s leg and winked. Twenty feet…fifteen feet…ten feet.

Ransom dash the last ten feet toward Revanas and swung the flat of the blade at Revanas’s right side. For the fifth time in two years.

Revanas took the blow and staggared, grabbing the glaive and spinning around. Landing two quick blows to the barbarian’s helmet. “Ransom, you fool! Of all places to meet you!”

Both men dropped their weapon, and Ransom gently put down his basket. Both men embraced with several loud clangs. Revanas quickly noted the confuzed gaze of his friends. He quickly explained, “Old friend.”

[ September 20, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]

[ElanorGamgee]

Rowan scurries down the dirt road as fast as her little hobbit feet can carry her, a wicker basket tucked under one sun-browned arm. The dust stirred up as she hurries along dirties her toes and drifts up to her nose, making her sneeze.

Oh, bother! What a nuisance! the tweenager thinks as she lifts the nicely-written note up before her grey eyes. She scans the message again and then tucks it back into the basket in aggravation. The prospect of a picnic is lovely enough, but her mother had not derived the same pleasure at the arrival of the basket on the step of their humble cabin. “More charity!” Mrs. Ploughman had exclaimed, folding her arms sternly and sniffing with indignation and pride. “We may not be rich folk, but we aren’t going to start takin’ fine donations from our betters, an’ that’s a fact.” And so her daughter had found herself quickening to the Old Forest to return the fancy dishes, not without regret.

As she nears the forest, Rowan feels a twinge of nervousness. The note had hinted at mysterious beings, and she had heard a good tale or two about the shades said to haunt the woods. The trees seem to tower before her, and as she advances Rowan feels that she is being buried alive.

The hobbit gathers her courage, follows the weaving path and, after a while, begins to hear snatches of conversation. She comes upon an unusual sight. Before her stand all manner of guests that could possibly be expected: men, elves, hobbits, ghostly specters, animals, and even a large dragon. Rowan stops in her tracks and considers leaving the basket in the road and running all the way home. But that would be quite rude, and, besides, the prospect of venturing back into the silence of the woods all alone for any amount of time is very unpleasant indeed. The hobbit lass sighs and creeps forward, avoiding eye contact and trying her best to remain inconspicuous as she seeks out the leader of the merry gathering.

[ September 20, 2002: Message edited by: ElanorGamgee ]

[Rose Cotton]

When Rose had seen the basket on her doorstep she thought it was a delightfull treat but didn't pay much attention to it. She set it on the table for futher inspection later.

When later came Rose sorted through the contents admireing them as she went untill she found a small slip of paper bearing an inventantion. At first she was positive that she would not be going but at the last minute the prospect of a picnic made her change her mind.

So the young hobbit, bairly out of her tweens, traveled to the Old Forest hoping she was not too late.

*****************

Rose spent a great deal of time stumbling though the forest grasping her basket firmly to her side trying to find where the picnic was. Finally the sound of voices drew her to the spot. The party already seemed to be long started. Rose pulled her hood off of her golden curled head and set out so find someone to talk to.

[ September 20, 2002: Message edited by: Rose Cotton ]

[GreatWarg]

You don't say? the fox responded, eagerly listening.

Who would've known? Ole Smaug? The very same Smaug? the fox gasped. A large clanking sound and the ringing of a blade clashing armour drew the fox's attention for a moment to two Men who were hugging. The fox blinked.

One of the Men smiled nervously at the crowd of onlookers. "Old friend." Quite an interesting way of greeting an old friend, the fox thought, shaking his head disapprovingly.

A few of the hobbits lads and lasses giggled. 'Aw, look! Even the fox thinks it's funny!' The two Men were rather red that they had shown such 'affection' in a crowd, and having a fox chastise them.

If you would kindly excuse me, Mistress Dragon, the fox said politely, moving towards the Man in armour.

[Gandalf_theGrey]

* Confronted by the Nazgûl's dread greeting, the Cloaked Guest maintained a steady gaze. He drew back his cloak enough to reveal the same Elven sword which earlier had leapt like a blue lightning bolt to pierce the foe now standing before him. *

If you fear this blade, do but tell me, and I shall relinquish it to the safekeeping of the family of the Eldest, Master of the Old Forest.

* Gandalf then turned, calling Midnight gently by name. *

You are free to stay or go as you wish, Midnight. If you return to the field where other mounts await their masters, I shall bring you a picnic supper presently.

* At that moment, Gandalf heard a voice from home hail him. *

Lassiël! Well met, handmaiden of Yavanna. [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] You honor this party, to leave the Uttermost West willingly, in order to attend.

* Gandalf bowed low. *

As for how I fare, the answer must be "by the way," as I am a wayfarer ...

[Aradaewen]

"Yes, of course," Rada excused him. She watched him go, thinking that it was such a pity creatures like that didn't come in bigger sizes- they were quite tasty, but that one wouldn't make half a mouthful. She shook her head. She had promised someone (never mind who) that she would behave herself and not chomp anything but the prepared food at this picnic. She settled down into the comfort of her own coils, and closed her eyes... Mistress Dragon, huh? She liked that...

[ September 21, 2002: Message edited by: Aradaewen ]

[Carnëiach]

The wind sprite floated through the forest. The basket was being floated with great effort by one finger of air. *If this continues Im going to have to go corporeal and man i hate that.*
She had no idea how anyone had found her home; how would anyone know exactly which part of a certain tree she happened to be residing on which particular night? She was going to be sure to do one of two things; Congratulate him for finding it, or kill him for taking away the mystery of her existence...she wasnt sure which...
The sounds of a party carried along her silvery form and pleased she rushed forward, ignoring the gapes of astonishment at seeing a floating basket. The life energies of the being flitted all around. She saw one of indetermite form and drifted towards him. The wraith sat at the bar, seeming rather depressed.
"Good day sprite."
The wight greeted the elemental as if she was a land crawler! This must be the one who had left the basket with her. He didnt seem at all menacing though, especially for a wight...
*Good day, sir wight. I-* She started the introduce herself but then realised that the wight was squinting at the air on his opposite side. She laughed, like a summer breeze and his head shot around to that side again. She switched sides and gently tickled his ear. Once more he turned sharply, with a look of frustration on his face. The sprite went to his other side and allowed her corporeal form, which was like that of an elf, shimmer out of the air.
"Sorry my dear wight. I couldnt resist. Especially as you found where I live and yet are unable to see me!" She found it impossible to be angry at the slightly bumbling wight. He turned swiftly to face her again and jerked slightly as he saw the beautiful young woman who sat there.
"Are you...you werent there before..I-" He stopped and took a breath, although it wasnt of course nessesary. "Youre an elemental arent you?"
"A wind sprite, yes. And you are..."
"Im a...wait a minute, how come you havent fainted yet?"
"Well I seem to have caused enough faintings of my own when people saw a basket flying through the air."
The young (well, he looked young anyway) smiled and seemed on the vereg of giving a small laugh. How can I be mad at him? Hes very sweet and obviously not much more at home in that form that I am in this...although those are fantastic clothes...excluding the cat hair...
She smiled back at him, pouring herself a drink. Soon they fell into easy conversation...

[Maikadilwen]

The old trees seemed to bend away, as the large creature came crashing through the wood. She was used to a lot more space than this. A few times along the road she even had to crouch and squeeze her body through the trees, but she had received an invitation and she was determined to go to this party.

She stopped for a moment to think. It had all been very strange. She had been resting in her wonderful lair, when suddenly a wight had been stumbling through the darkness with a basket. Though knowing that a wight wasn't exactly the most nutritive she could catch, she had started chasing him anyway for having the nerve to wake her up from her sleep. The chase had ended with the wight throwing the basket back over his shoulder and it had hit her on the head.

Later, when she had regained consciousness, she found that something had changed. She felt an urge to see light and hear laughter and, noticing the invitation to a picnic, she picked up the basket and went on her way to this party though it was a long travel from Cirith Ungol.

She had taken a quick bath in a river on the way and now whe was finally here in a strange forest with strange trees.
Suddenly she felt a little anxious. Would there be enough food?
She moved closer to where she heard voices and laughter and slowly she emerged from the trees.

The laughter and talking stopped abruptly and everybody turned around, wide-eyed. She jumped as a group of small, furry-footed creatures started screaming. She noticed a small group of elves staring at her, one of them with a tight grip on a....meat cleaver????

Realizing the threat, she crouched and swiftly dropped the picnic basket she had brought and used one of her front legs to push it toward a lady in a golden dress who stood next to the very same wight who had delivered the basket.

[ September 21, 2002: Message edited by: Maikadilwen ]

[Carnëiach]

The Wind Sprite (whose name is Saristhri) felt a long thin and rather sharp object poke her shoulder. Someone was poking her with a stick?! Well, we'll see about that...ignoring the rather stricken look on the wights face and the sinking feeling inside her she turned, speaking to the offender as she turned.
"Well excuse me, theres no need for rudeness, especially when I only wear this body temporarily you cant take advantage of it by- Oh dear god its a giant spider." She finished calmly although her golden ever changing eyes had widened considerably.
"I am SSsshelob..." The dark figure hissed.
The sprite looked rather confused, upset, baffled and angry all at the same time. She held up a finger and seemed about to say something before lowering it. Opening and shutting her mouth several times she wagged her finger at the giant creature. She sighed and turned to the wight, who looked just about ready to run.
"Little help here?!" She said in barely a whisper.

[Bêthberry]

Out of the corner of her eye, while she was chatting with the Wight, Bethberry finally spied Gandalf making puns with Yavanna's handmaiden. She wondered if anyone other than Gandalf and herself was aware of how extraordinary was Lassiel's presence here.

Bethberry also saw that the menagerie was growing. Well, where else but the Old Forest could animals feel free to show their social side? [img]smilies/smile.gif[/img] As long as Dr.Doolittle didn't show up. There was no way he could be source or canon. Perhaps she ought to order another side of beef for the spit....

[Elenna]

Elenna laughed as she saw Ransom and Ravenas "fight". Unlike several of the others, she was well versed in the greeting rituals of warriors. Putting down her tankard, she strode over to where the two fighters stood chatting amiably.

"Well, gentlemen, it seems that you two know each other from way back. I however, do not seem to know anyone at this fine gathering."

[GreatWarg]

The confrontation with Gandalf and the wraith ended before the fox could get there, so, rather disappointed, the fox began to follow Gandalf. Except he was making rather unusual puns (as they say in the Barrow-Downs) with a rather beautiful Maia. Oh yes, animals can tell the difference usually between a Maia and a Valar, and a handmaiden of Yavanna was something this fox couldn't resist to get a closer look at.

Stopping a few feet away from Gandalf and Lassiel, the fox sat down, his throttle-brush tail swaying, listening to Gandalf talk and talk and talk.