**Birthday Party in the Barrow** (May, 2005)

[Ealasaide]

"Oh, I wish you could have brought your dog!" Ealasaide answered with a touch of regret. "They could have had some fun running around together. What kind of dog have you got?"

[Firefoot]

"He's a sheltie - a little bit smaller than Codijune," answered Firefoot. "His name's Marco." She paused. Marco would have fun here, more fun than at home. "Maybe I'll be able to run home and get him later."

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Fea slid back through the door quietly. "Shh" she said... "Don't tell my parents I'm back. They think I'm doing homework, but I snuck away."

Seeing that the limericks were trailing off in her absence, Fea walked up to Firefoot and Ealasaide. "You guys are talking about dogs... can I join you?"

[wilwarin538]

Wilwa got up from the piano, her fingers getting tiered, and pranced over to the large group of people reciting the limiricks and laughing at davem. She danced around even though there wasnt music playing anymore until she plopped into a chair to take a rest.

[Ealasaide]

"A sheltie! Great little dogs..." Ealasaide smiled. "Codijune is half coyote, but her other half is collie. She and Marco are cousins in a way." She looked down at Codijune, who wagged her tail agreeably. "That would be great if you could bring him later. Codi would enjoy having a friend to run around with."

Just then a third person, Fea, joined them in the corner.

""You guys are talking about dogs... can I join you?" asked Fea.

"Of course," answered Ealasaide. "Are you another dog person, then?"

[Encaitare]

"It seems that our host is indeed rather late.... late as in the late Wightbarrowwight," Enca observed. She too had been snapped back into what some people might call "the real world" in order to help push an old car from one side of the garage to the other. Go figure.

Rather thirsty from the minimal manual labor, she sought out a drink. Being but 16 (therefore no Old Winyards allowed for her) and of the opinion that champagne was quite possibly the foulest thing ever created, she came upon a pleasant-looking bowl of punch.

As she looked around, Enca thought that this was one of the best parties she'd ever attended. Anything that combined the undead and verse had to be pretty good, she decided. And since it seemed that the limerick game was slowing down, she figured she may as well see if she couldn't start it up again. She climbed onto a chair with her cup of punch and announced,

Where in the world is our host?
I do hope he's not comatose.
So in the meantime
We can have punch and wine
But I think that champagne is gross!

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

"Dog person indeed. Three over-grown lap dogs at home. A pure German Shepherd, a pure Golden Retriever, and a mutt. All too big to be laying on my lap, but none of them are aware of it." Fea smiled, glad to have found a somewhat quiet corner. Her mood swings were as notorious as her attention span, and right now she felt like a bit of quiet discussion.

[THE Ka]

The crowd around the Ka soon ran out of coffeecake. After walking around for awhile, Ka felt thirsty. Though Ka was not found of ale that much, it would suffice. A small glass full was selected and passed to the center of the group. While drinking, a thought ran by Ka that since it was May Day, maybe it should pass out flowers, though it wouldn't be much of a surprise to the reciever. Leaving through the floor, Ka left its crowd at the party and collected the needed supplies.

Soon returning, ka found that its crowd was rather lost boubing around hither and tither. Collecting the group together, ka instructed the party to pass out the flowers politely of course, and say 'Merry MayDay!'. After settling down in a very dark corner at a single table, Ka's crowd spred out in the party with gifts in hand. At the table, Ka pulled out a sketch pad and began to draw.

[Firefoot]

Firefoot grinned, commenting, "But of course. The bigger the dog, the smaller they think they are, but the smaller the dog, the larger they think they are."

Before either could reply, Firefoot heard, Supper! "I'll be back," she promised, ducking out of the conversation. "And I'll bring Marco."

[wilwarin538]

"Thank-you, and Happy MayDay to you too" Wilwa said with a smile as one from the Ka's party came to her and gave her a wild yellow daisy. She smiled with a grin and softly strummed a guitar, that she had found sitting nearby, to keep her self amused until the arrival of the Barrow-Wight.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

"It's true, Firefoot," Fea began just as her companion rushed off in search of food. "If you'll excuse me, Eala, I think I'll go cause some mischief in that direction."

Supremely unconcerned with the rest of the party's business, Fea made her way over to her previously mentioned large, unobtrusive bag. Slinging it carefully over her shoulder, she sauntered toward an empty corner. "Now where... is... that... toy?" she muttered to herself, digging through the depths of her bag. Random possessions flew through the air as partiers glared at Fea, who showed no signs whatsoever of noticing that a large stuffed rabbit holding a plastic eggplant had just hit Hilde in the back of the head. "Now I know that I packed it..."

[Ealasaide]

Ealasaide smiled benignly and waved as her human companions departed once more in search of food and excitement, leaving her alone once more with her dog.

"Merry May Day!" a new young woman said and handed her a flower.

"Thank you!" Ealasaide answered. "And a Merry May-Day to you as well." The other woman smiled and disappeared back into the crowd of partiers, gracefully ducking a flying toy on the way. Codijune jumped up to sniff at the flower Ealasaide had been handed and when Ealasaide held it down for her, she took it gently between her teeth and tugged. Curious at what the dog intended to do with the flower, Ealasaide let go. Codijune lay down and, holding the stem between her paws, proceeded to shred the bloom into a pile of colorful petals. When she had finished, she stood up and shook herself as though hugely satisfied with herself.

Ealasaide laughed and, with a surrepticious kick of her boot, shoved the pile of shredded flower under the long tablecloth of the end table where she had placed her wine glass. "Shhh!" she admonished the dog. She picked up her glass and took a deep draught of the smoky cabernet, a mischievous twinkle rising in her dark brown eyes. If she had known that the party was going to be this pet-friendly, she would have brought the cat, as well!

[wilwarin538]

Suddenly Wilwa had a great sourge of courage. She got up on her chair and cleared her throat, and recited, byfar, the worst poem that was recited that night.

O Wight, O Wight
O where could he be?
For he is someone I do not see.
Is he near?
Is he far?
Is he at a bar?
O Wight, O Wight
O where could he be?

[Firefoot]

Firefoot returned a little while later with not one but two shelties on leashes. She quickly spotted Ealasaide and headed in that direction. Marco walked calmly at her side while the other gawked about, giving a soft bark. "Hush, Maggie," murmured Firefoot, knowing full well the correction would do little good.

Both dogs' tails began to wag at the sight of Codijune, Marco's slower and Maggie's quickly. Firefoot smiled, keeping them back at first as she approached Ealasaide and Codijune. "The bigger one is Marco. The brat is my mom's dog, Maggie, who just had to come along," she explained. The term 'brat' was used with utmost affection that was clearly evident in her voice. As if to emphasize the point, Maggie woofed again, still wagging her tail, this time at Codijune. Firefoot sighed, grinning. "What am I to do with you, Maggie."

[Assasin]

A tall ghost came in through the door dressed in dark green cloak, black trousers, and a cream tunic with a dark vest over it. Her tall riding boots were covered in mud as if she had rode through the rain to come. She had medium length brown hair and blue-grey eyes. When she came in she put on a name tag that said "Lauren" for that was her middle name. She then proceded to talk to some friends who had arrived before her.

[wilwarin538]

Wilwa noticed the new arrival and went over to great her. "Hello Lauren. You have the same name as my sister. Its nice to meet you."

[Ealasaide]

"Two Shelties!" exclaimed Ealasaide in surprise as Firefoot returned with two of the long-haired little dogs. Codi, who was not on a leash, walked slowly toward the newcomers, wagging her tail. She touched noses with Marco, but as she approached Maggie, the little dog gruffed sharply, although her tail wagged quickly. Codi stopped, her large pointed ears trained forward. Then, she lay down and placed her shaggy head sideways against the wood floor.

When Firefoot made an exclamation of surprise, Ealasaide smiled. "No matter how small the other dog is, Codi's always the smaller dog," she explained. "It's her coyote instinct. That's how they show submission." After a moment, Codi got up and gruffed playfully at the other two dogs, trying to get one or both of them to chase her.

"Uh-oh..." said Ealasaide softly. She reached out to catch Codijune's collar before it was too late.

[Firefoot]

Maggie lunged after Codijune, and was stopped short by her leash. She gave Firefoot a look which clearly stated her disgruntlement. Unfortunately, this was all the encouragement that Codi needed. She slipped out of Ealasaide's reach nimbly and stopped a few feet away, inviting the Shelties to come after her. Marco was now caught up in the spirit of the game, and darted back and forth on his loose lead. Maggie put her front end down on the ground, wagging her tail in the air. Then she barked again.

Firefoot instinctively tightened the leashes. "Come on, guys. You aren't going to go chasing all over the barrow."

However, this did not help with catching Codijune. When Ealasaide tried calling her, the dog's attention shifted to her, then back to the other dogs, not moving, though clearly ready to. If only we weren't in a corner, thought Firefoot. As it is, the only way we can go is toward Codi, which will make her run... And Maggie and Marco were not helping. Marco had settled down slightly, but Maggie was clearly acting her wonted part of instigator.

Suddenly Firefoot had an idea. She slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out a bit of meat from dinner which she had saved for the dogs. "Who wants a piece?" she asked, deliberately slipping a piece to Marco. Maggie forgot about Codijune for the moment and put her small white feet on Firefoot's leg. Firefoot let a piece down to Maggie, watching Codijune to see if she was tempted.

[Oddwen]

'Twas the very dinnertime of evening, when Oddwen finally sauntered to the 'Barrow to join in the festivities. There she was met by a door. Fortunately, she'd met with these sort of obstacles before, and could drawn on experience to overcome.
Immediately after this fearsome foe, she was met by a table with some nametags upon it, and several felt pens lying nearby, lonesome and horizontal. An idea flared within her foggy brain, and she was compelled to place the word "Alice" upon one of the labels, utilizing one of the felt pens laying near. After a moments thought, in infintesimal lettering, she placed this vulgar prose below the name:

When dealing with Barrow-downer Alice
Be aware her jests are said without malice
For being in a gravemound
Has caused her tofound
That she'd rather live in a palace!

And lo! she peeled the backing off of the label, and stuck the label upon her vivid orange and yellow hawaiian-style shirt! And started thinking normally (for her)!

Throwing prose to the wind, she single-mindedly headed for the cheesecake.

[THE Ka]

As Ka sat in the corner, seemingly unaware of everything around something suddenly caught it's eye. It was a rabbit holding an eggplant, that flew through the air with grace.

" Nice rabbit." Ka thought and began to sketch again, but another thing caught it's eye. One it's guises was now standing atop a milk crate, being a living statue of something or another. Hanging from its neck was a sign that read: "Happy Birthday BarrowDowns!" and below in smaller print read: " Also, Free hugs provided..."

ka rolled their eyes and thought, " What next? Free facepaint?" and returned to the sketch pad.

[Bêthberry]

The sky was darkening, although none in the barrow party were in any state to observe the passing into the west of the substitute light of the sun. Few at first noticed a small brown bird winging its way to the barrow.

Wyrd it was, the faithful falcon of Bethberry, who was herself enmeshed in proceedings somewhat similar to those here, an annual rite of celebration for the passing of a year. Parties, as we all know, belong to the realm of fairie, where sometimes our heart's desire can be met and sometimes spurned and more often simply given some sort of shrift, either short or long, depending upon the particular nature of the inhabitants, be they fair or foul, incarnate or symbolic. So, there was Bethberry trapped in story, betwixt this real world of which the invitation spoke, and this ether world of barrow down. Who is to say which spoke of fictional treasure and which spoke of truth? It would take a davem to know, a Lalwende to acknowledge, and a Fordim to pronounce upon, even leading aside for consideration such possibilities as a littlemanpoet could rhyme upon, or a Kuruharan to barter, or a Lush to drink to, or a Squatter to fulminate upon, or a Rimbaud to pun with, or an Aman to plead with, or an Heren Istarion to dig up, or a Thenamir to theologise about, or a Mark to speak in tongues about. Hesty could always play as the vessal righted itself! Perhaps a Son of Numenor could write an ode to pineapple which would put the right spin on things. Well, there were many other ways to characterise Bethberry's cauldron of story, at least as many as there are Barrow Downers. Whether that is one or many, of course, the discussion about the trinitarian aspects of Eru had not yet decided, to say nothing about what Eomer wore under his kilts or Boromir blew upon, or how many pots went into making a SaucepanMan, or how many breakfasts would fill up Pimpiowyn or how many children would be the right number for a hobbit. Well, two hobbits, that is.

But this is to digress, in a manner most unfortunate for parties. But that is the nature of Bethberries, who seem to take most unfortunately a serious line to the interpretation thereof. Seriouser and seriouser!

To return to the party: Wyrd, his head low, wings outspread at a degree that would make a balrog envious whether he had any or not, flew in and out amonst and between the various party members, some of whom he recognised as denizens of Rohan, his mistress's current home in Middle-earth. At last he spied the table resplendent with gifts and the other laden with food.

Two baskets Wyrd held in his beak, and tired indeed he was. The first basket he let fall upon the gift table, where it was meant for the Barrow Wight. In it lay a letter--no, not one of Tolkien's letters for gaming, nor one of those foreign ones, but a real honest to goodness communication, with a map outlining a quest for the Wight on his journey west, and more particularly, outlining the way back, to ensure that no matter how interested he became in his next adventures, he would always be able to find his journey back to the barrow wence his fame first spread and where he still had many faithful admirers.

The second basket Wyrd let fall upon the table of delectables and comestibles. It held all manner of sweet confections, berries covered in chocolate, cereals mixed with marshmellows, licorices of many frostings. And a brief note,

"Fellow Downers,

Alas and alak and foresooth and welladay and--here the writing trailed off, as if someone had grabbed the sheet of parchment and insisted she desist and then it continued in a very different vein--

Oh, all right. I'm in a jam here and cannot get away. Have fun without me, as I'm sure you will."

the note was signed,

"Boysenberry and fried chicken our specialties"
Knott's Berry Farm,
Orange County, California"

The note fell under the table where Lalwende had first been hiding but was found the next day by Hesty the Hostess with the Mostest.

"Curiosier and curioser," she opined. "I think our Beth has fallen on adventures in some strange wonderland." Little did she know how much the Jabberwock lurked in the words of Rohan's moderator.

[Fingolfin II]

Fin II burst in late, as usual, carrying drinks and a big smile on his face. His shadow wound it's way through all the ghostly patrons even unto the centre of the Barrow-Wight's wight itself.

'Five years?' he proclaimed to the world (or the Wights) at large, with a smirk on his face. 'I've arrived four too late.'

Nevertheless, there was a spare chair at the Quiz-Roomer's table. As his tired and ethereal frame sunk into a comfortable mini-barrow, he was dimly aware of a name tag floating within arm's reach. He put it on and so became known as the frightening and dashing "A".

[Ealasaide]

Smelling food, Codijune's black nose instantly began to twitch. Watching the little Shelties being fed meat out of Firefoot's pocket, she let out a soft whine and trotted forward, a hopeful smile on her face. Just behind the two Shelties, Codi very deliberately sat down. It was her only trick.

"What a good girl!" exclaimed Ealasaide with a touch more enthusiasm than was really warranted, but as she did so, she flew forward and attached the leash she had had draped loosely around her own neck to Codi's collar. She gave the dog's thick coat a vigorous runching, then winked at Firefoot. "Thanks! For a minute there, I thought we were off to the races. And that wouldn't do at all - particularly since I am trying very hard to be unobtrusive."

Firefoot grinned and, with a great deal of effort, reached past her own dogs to give Codi a little bite of meat. Codijune stood up to eat her treat, but as soon as she had gulped it down, she sat again, giving her new benefactor a fresh, very earnest stare. Her plumy tail brushed the floor behind her.

"Now you've done it!" said Ealasaide cheerfully. "You've got a friend for life."

[wilwarin538]

Wilwa noticed the time and was disappointed to find out it was time for her to return home. Sadly she hadn't gotten to see the Barrow Wight that night but she had school in the morning and it was late in her city. She gathered up her violin and looked in the direction of where her cake had been, it was completely eaten. She smiled and headed for the door, waving at those who noticed her quietly leave.

"Happy Birthday Barrow-Downs hope there's another five more to go." she said to anyone in hearing distance and she walked out of the barrow reflecting on how much fun she had had that day.

[Hilde Bracegirdle]

“Fortunately the chance of emus is only 60% today!” Hilde said rubbing the back of her head with one hand and turning unique sculpture of a rabbit holding an eggplant over in the other. “Half scale I should say, may a bit less,” she mused setting the thing down on the floor beside were she settled earlier to scribble a few paragraphs in her notebook. Standing up, she abandoning her half written post, and adjusting the large wooden barrette that had slipped down her straight graying brown hair walked about trying to find Cami. She could have sworn she’d heard her mention something about gin. That would be a welcome tonic to for this already stiff neck. But of course the after a sleepless night and hectic day one runs the risk of becoming a beaming yet breathing houseplant with such medicine.

Walking over to the table that held the nametags, she pulled off her tag, grabbed a flair and squeezed in ‘IN’ after the “G”. She was tempted to place it on her neck but settled for placing it on the other shoulder. Hoping for that to dispel the pain, she looked around and saw that Ealasaide had arrived. With a broad smile on her broader face she stood stiffly at attention and saluted both Ealasaide and Codijune, who seemed to be enjoying the gathering.

Shuffling over to the wall, Hilde leaned heavily against it and promptly began snoring even before she hit the floor. Goodnight, enjoy yourselves all you lovely wights!

[littlemanpoet]

LMP sauntered back in and passed Wilwa on her way out. He smiled. "Farewell and goodnight, Wilwa! I overheard your poem. Loved it!" She smiled in return and left.

LMP had returned with not only Eodwine tucked inside, but Falco, Harreld and Garreth too from the White Horse Inn, and therefore he had, of course, brought a keg of stout to help continue the loosening of various and sundry inhibitions, codifications, cerebriations, and so forth. And he even decided that if "that's not a real word", he'd start making them up on the spot just because.

He made his way up to the table, set down the keg for the best pouring, straightened his nametag, which still said the same thing as before, which was not entirely unsurprising, since frankly anything can happen in the ether of the barrowdowns (within magical reason and approval of mods of course!).

He reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a pint glass, and poured it full of the darkest, richest looking stout. He put it to his lips and sipped, and sure enough, it was the darkest, richest tasting as well. He was especially glad that things were turning out to be a lot bigger than first appearances might indicate, because that meant that his capacity for the stuff was certainly larger than in RL as well. Ah, it was going to be a great party for the remainder of the night. He sat down in a comfy and very big chair, and thought up more words that had never existed before.

[Meneltarmacil]

Meneltarmacil entered, not dressed in last year's finery nor in his green Ranger's cloak that he wore often as the character Thoronmir in RPGs, but in the green jacket he often wore in the real world. Somehow, he had managed to get all the way to Middle-Earth from Virginia, but had no clue exactly how he had found himself here. He brushed part of his long blond hair out of his face and surveyed the scene. Perhaps he could discuss the New Movie Script with Oddwen, or impress people with his knowledge of dinosaurs and other prehistoric creatures. If nothing else, he might be able to scare Nilpaurion Felagund out of his wits if the latter arrived...

He set down some tortilla chips along with a bowl of salsa. He did not mention the fact that the salsa was Extra-Extra-Extra-Extra Hot and could cause one's head to produce fire and smoke, however...

[Formendacil]

Formendacil had spent most of his day pigging out at the snack bar, which is not a good thing for a diabetic to do, but he taken his insulin (discretely slipping off to the little boys' room between limerics), and had generally just pulled up a seat at the snack table (which the Barrow-Wight frowned on, but he didn't seem to be looking), and generally ate from all the dishes present in a most hobbit-like manner.

Thoroughly sated, and benignly munching on a bowl of celery sticks, he was thus somewhat taken by surprise when Esty came over with a question intended to start a wise-sounding and intelligent discussion.

"Tom Bombadil, winged???" he said in food-induced daze, thinking that only a fool would ask such a question. "Of course not."

Then he realised that he was talking to a Moderator, and should perhaps elucidate. Besides, he had a reputation to uphold. No Burrahobbit, he!


"It should be fairly obvious," he said, "that Tom Bombadil is not winged. The renowned Master Bombadil was described as being like a Man, but closer in size to a Hobbit. Neither have wings, and surely, if Tom had had wings, then it would have been noted by the Hobbits. They might not have noticed such a thing in their haste to get Merry and Pippin out of the Old Willow, but they still had two and a bit chapters to mention the fact, not to mention that the panic-scene (and included description of Tom) was written afterwards, and surely so important detail would be noted? Afterall, it was mentioned that Legolas had brown hair and round ears, and that's not crucial to the story."

The end bit regarding Legolas hair and ears was intended as a joke, and Formendacil sat back, and gave Esty a broad wink, and waited for someone to have his words sink in, thus starting off a delicious round of frivolous Legolas-debates. Meanwhile, he grabbed another stalk of celery.

[Firefoot]

"I'm sure I do," grinned Firefoot. She put the meat back in her pocket. "That's all for now," she told the three dogs. "You never know when I might need it again." They all watched her for a moment more to make sure that no more food would be forthcoming. Finally convinced that it was not to be, they turned to other things. Marco, clearly tired, lay down at her feet. Maggie's tail began to wag once more as she pawed Codijune.

"Don't you think it's getting a little late to play?" Firefoot asked Maggie. It was getting late, where they came from, and those chairs were beginning to look extremely inviting.

"I think we'll be turning in for the night," she said. "I'm sure these guys will have a chance to play tomorrow."

Ealasaide nodded. "Good night, then."

Firefoot wandered over to the comfortable looking chairs and happily plopped down in one. The Shelties jumped up beside (or, rather, on top of) her. The three were soon happily fast asleep.

[Celuien]

Celuien glanced at her watch, astonished to find that the evening had already flown away. But time runs fast in good company. Although she regretted not having a chance to greet her esteemed host, she knew that she must leave, as her trip to class in the morning would be a long one. And so she raised her glass of wine and proposed a toast to the Barrow Wight. "Thank you for founding this site and the lovely party! May the Downs continue on for many more years." With that, she drained her glass and said her farewells. Gathering her belongings together, Celuien headed to the door and vanished into the dark mists that had gathered in the quiet hills.

[Gurthang]

Suddenly, a shadow appeared at the door. It was a man! Men did not come often to the Barrow-Downs, and never at this hour. Yet another look showed that it was not a man, but a body. The lifeless form appeared grey and dreary. He carried a sword in front of him with both hands, and wore a dark cloak that hid most of his features. He was of a tall sort, but did not look to be stout. No one at the party recognized him, for he was not a member of the Downs. His reason for coming was different.

A voice arose then, though the man's lips did not stir. The few that remained started as they realized that the sound was coming from the sword!

"Greetings and Happy Birthday! I have come to partake in the festivites, such as I can. I have come with the aid of one who exists only to carry and serve me. I am Gurthang, the Black Sword, Brother of Anglachel, Destroyer of Glaurung, the Bane of Turin."

A pleased gasp spread through the barrow, as well as a few giggles at the slightly over-dramatized entrance. The party went back to normal. Gurthang faded into the background, adding a bit to each conversation over the course of the night, but never lingering at one for too long.

[Ealasaide]

Having said goodnight to Firefoot and the two Shelties, Ealasaide decided that turning in for the night sounded like a very good idea. Before doing that, though, she looked around for Hilde Bracegirdle, with whom she had exchanged salutes a short while earlier. She intended to have a quick word with Hilde before finding a quiet corner where she and Codijune could retire for the night, but, upon locating her friend, saw that Hilde had already dropped off to sleep. She sat with her back against the wall, snoring contentedly ...and loudly enough to rattle the windows in their frames, if there had been any windows in the barrow.

Catching sight of Hilde's nametag with the cryptic "GIN" dashed across it, Ealasaide grinned, wondering if gin might have had something to do with the volume of her friend's snores.

"Oh, well," she sighed. "Goodnight, then! And goodnight to all my other fellow wights!" With that, she found a secluded spot on the floor nearby and curled up on her side, pillowing her head on her arm. Codijune curled up, in turn, in the nook behind Ealasaide's knees and with a single deep sigh, dropped off to sleep. Ealasaide lay awake for a short time listening to the ongoing merriment of the party on the other end of the room, then she, too, was overtaken by slumber.

[THE Ka]

Ka glanced at it's wristwatch, it was already 7:15 p.m. (Pacific time zone of course!). Not exactly too late for a party, but late enough for one that began earlier this day. The guise on the milkcrate was joined by a few others of Ka
's avatars who all took on different roles from the play of The Importance of Being Ernest, in a way that even Wilde himself would be in confusion.

" Great, I leave them alone for a couple hours and they're turing a party into a sideways show."

Ka put down the sketch pad and just stared out of the darkness at the party as one by one, members began to leave. Contemplating on leaving would be a good thing to do, but cleaning up afterwards would help whoever was left with the job. Thinking ahead, Ka did not grab a nametag, or was not able too because there were already about fifteen other guises with something along the lines of " ___ Ka" with an aspect filled in. Waiting, ka sat until guest really began to head home to help clean up the remains of a wonderous party. Making sure of course to keep the guises there to help as well, this time without face paint.

[Assasin]

It's nice to meet you Wilwa, is this party much fun?

[Orominuialwen]

A rather short, plump tweenaged girl approached the Barrow. She looked very much like a Hobbit, and was often told so, but the lack of hair on her feet proclaimed that she was most definitely human. She had a large black case holding an instrument of some sort strapped to her back, and was holding a dish covered in a checkered dish towel. With her was a tweenaged boy, her little brother. He appeared to be much her junior (for she looked rather older than she was), but in fact they were only three years apart. He carried a large pot of something from which the unmistakable smell of mushrooms escaped, and the two talked excitedly as they walked. A black warg followed at some distance behind, looking as if it did not really want to be seen in public with the two youngsters. Upon closer examination, the warg appeared to have a pair of shadowy wings on its back, but it was difficult to tell in the dim light.

"I hope Saucepan Man will bring his band again this year," the girl said, "I heard they were great last year."

"It's too bad we couldn't come then," her brother replied. "I just hope this party will be as fun as everyone said last year's was."

"Just so long as you promise not to spend the whole time sitting in a corner reading a book, like you do at every other party we go to."

"Hey! I resent that!"

The two reached the sinister looking door to the Barrow and went inside. The warg waited a bit, and then followed them inside, so as to look like he had come separately. The two siblings stopped first at the name tag table. The girl grabbed a pen and a tag, then hesitated over what to write.

"What should I put?" she wondered to herself. Finally, she settled on a translation of a translation of her name, and printed "Alassë" in rather girlish handwriting. Underneath, in smaller letters, she wrote "Oromin" and "Lady Harriet", so as not to confuse those who knew her by other names.

"Do you want me to write yours, too?" she asked her brother, "At least that way people will be able to read it!"

"I resent that too!" he said as he scrawled "High King Fingolfin" in handwriting that somewhat resembled heiroglyphics. Underneath, he wrote in parentheses "Not HKF!"

"Come on, we'd better put down all this food before it gets cold," Alassë/Oromin told her brother, and the two headed towards the food table.

[Formendacil]

Unfortunately for Formendacil's predatory instincts, either nobody caught his loaded reference to Legolas' hair, or else no one wanted to bite.

As it appeared that his explanation of non-winged Bombadils (now there's a question, he thought. If Tom has a last name, does that mean there are other Bombadils? He filed that away for future reference).

It was getting late. Almost his bedtime. Not that a distinguished man such as he could not stay up all night, but the party was winding down a bit, and he was rather tired- and full!- and it seemed most sensible to find a quiet corner of the barrow and fall asleep.

Unfortunately, between snoring and what partying was still going on, it was a bit difficult to find a quiet corner. Eventually, he settled on a large, well-ventilated broom closet. After a bit of judicious de-brooming, and the removal of all shelves and cleaning ingredients, he moved in the for night, hanging his sword, suit-jacket, and vest on the hooks ordinarily occuped by brooms, and then took his nighttime insulin, before curling up in his neon-green cloak, and promptly fell asleep.

"Night all," he mumbled to the closet as he fell asleep. Best of all, there was no alarm to wait for in the morning.

Hmm, he hoped breakfast would be as good as lunch/dinner/supper/assorted snacks had been that day.

[THE Ka]

Ka looked out, no one seemed to have any interest in cleaning up the party, even though it was falling into a state of sleepyness. Everyone had eaten their fill, and it began to take effect. The crowd that had hidden the ka was now rather tired and had ended their play with little clapping from members. They slowly but surely returned to the ka as it played a melancholy melody upon chimes that gave it a musicbox effect on the room. They floated and followed all in a state of stoic attention to the music's origins, whilst others would believe a musicbox lived in the dark corner.

Should it go home?, thought the ka. Helping to clean would be best, even if no one joined. Then, Ka noticed more guest had arrived and one of the members retired to the cleaning closet. Giving a moan of disatisfaction in these events, ka became restless. To help, or leave home? Below these concerns lived a different, more personal fear. Reveal one's self? Members were still at the party, even if they were comatose from sleep and food they would wonder were the crowd had gone.

Suddenly, though, out of no apparent concern to once thought pervious fears, ka instructed it's crowd of avatars to gather cleaning supplies, no deviations. When supplies had been rather forcefully attained from the cleaning closet ( and a member grumply disturbed from sleep) the crowd was instructed to clean up anything left out of place, and to leave the food table and guests unaranged. They calmly and quietly followed instructions, floating about sleepy members with complete ignorance of them, yet making sure not to alarm them.

Then, from the dark corner, Ka appeared in it's true form. 'It' was a tall young miss, dark hair highlighted with red hairs of parental origin enclosing a long pale face, dark blue eyes and a slavic nose above a thin little mouth always held too tightly, as commented by her relatives. The face in complete study, as would be told by friends of this creature, upon first impression would seem to the viewer 'mystifyingly angered' or 'darkly pessimistic', and that the old proverb, "don't judge a book by its cover" applied to this event. The body, was clothed in a dark length of fabric, of highly victorian importance, and attension given to detail so that it look like she had stepped out of a 'Pride and Prejudice' of her own making. looking around, Ka viewed to see if it was okay to continue. Nothing really happened, and with a smile she tied her hair up with a ribbon and said:

" Well, time to catch up." and with a garbage can in hand, made the rounds about the abode.

[piosenniel]

Max padded on silent paws behind Pio as she made her way down one of the winding, dark tunnels that led off the main chamber. Keeping an ear open for ghoulish chanting and eerie green lights, she poked into the trunks and old chests stashed about in the nooks and crannies. Old mouldering clothes, a few games and puzzles with pieces missing, a dog-eared thesaurus and some half finished poems.

One small trove of treasure was a crate of tawny port, bearing the insignia of The Bird and Baby. In a locked wooden box hidden behind the crate were a small number of very fine looking cigars. Loading the box atop the crate, Pio aborted her search of that tunnel and returned to the main room.

Hilde and Eala were curled up against a wall. One of them snoring. And there, curled up against her owner’s knees was Codijune. Max gave a puggish whine, hoping the dog would wake up. But both she and Eala simply sighed a bit and snuggled down more deeply into dreams. Nor was there any hope for Max that Firefoot’s three dogs would be waking soon. They were all deep in slumber tucked comfortably into a big chair.

Littlemanpoet looked comfortable, sitting in another big chair . . . alternating sips of stout with what looked like phrases savoured even as they fell from his lips. There was a pleasant look on his face as he did both activities.

Pio found a chair to perch in and gave a wave to lmp as she sat down. She held up a bottle of port and held up a cigar. ‘Let me know if you want one or the other or both,’ she mouthed to him.

Now where was Cami? Pio gazed about the room looking for the curly mop of graying curls. Little warps in Middl-earth time like this were the only way they could catch up on the progress of their various children . . . especially those of the fictional sort.

A young woman dressed in regency costume swept by with a garbage pail in hand. Pio raised her brows at the efficient, red-haired tidier as she picked up an empty wine bottle and a stray paper plate streaked with green jello. ‘Don’t clean too much, if you please,’ Pio asked THE Ka. ‘I feel quite at home amid the clutter.’ A thin spire of smoke from her newly lit cigar trailed up into the dark reaches of the barrow ceiling . . .

[Estelyn Telcontar]

H/Esty floated back into the barrow gracefully, the only person there who looked wide awake. Most were sleeping now, some, like LMP and Pio, resting with their favourite drinks and smokes, and THE energetic Ka had already picked up most of the mess invariably produced by any party worth its salted chips. "Thanks!" H called out to her, "You've saved me a lot of work!"

She was accustomed to the lack of activity at this time of day and indeed enjoyed a leisurely look around to start her daily routine. The conversations of the past night hung in the air, as wraith's words will, and she smiled over Formendacil's poke at Legolas, though she wished he could have been awake to hear the brilliant retort she had thought of - too late to be put to good use, as was so often the case. "But if Tom Bombadil has no wings, how does he get to the hobbits so quickly to rescue them?" was what she had wanted to say.

Interesting how the party had turned into a dogs' gathering as well, she thought; perhaps she should bring Ronya along - her Münsterländer was very sociable, loved a crowd, and got along well with other dogs, at least most of them.

When she was satisfied that everything was ready for the next onslaught of party guests, she settled down in a comfortable chair, put her feet up on someone's neglected backpack, and sipped a cup of green tea. She needed to gather strength, for the party carried on at least two more days!

[Lobelia]

Puffing and panting, a short, bespectacled hobbit hurried into the barrow, umbrella in one hand, plate of macaroons in the other. "Sorry I'm late! What a night! The umbrella turned inside out and I got soaked! But the food survived." She unwrapped her offering and the sweet smell of fresh-baked coconut treats wafted from the plate. "Hope you like them - I had to send to Harad for the coconut." Placing the dish on the table nearest the door, Lobelia adjusted her glasses and picked up a name-tag. She scribbled something unreadable on it and grinned around at the various shades. "Now, you don't really want to know my actual name, do you? Oh, well. It means "buttercup"..." Looking around, she spotted one shade in particular." Child, how wonderful to meet you at last. I have so enjoyed so many of your posts. On nights like this in the Shire, I make Bilbo let me use his Internet account so I can read them."
Grabbing a mug of spicy mulled wine, she mingled with the other guests, stopping by the Wight to wish it happy birthday.