A Bards' Guild Ides of March - A Bard's Festival All Welcome

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A Bards' Guild Ides of March - A Bard's Festival All Welcome

Postby erinhue » Sat Mar 15, 2008 7:01 am

The Kalends of March had long come and gone then Nones and Pridie Nones had slipped by one by one in turn and now the Ides of March were dawning on the land.

A trail of bubbles floated on the wind, collecting in a mass over the enchanted meadow surrounding the Splintered ChamberPot. The bubbles collected until a large sphere of tiny bubbles was barely resting on the grass. The iridescent multitude burst all at once and Erinhue stood outside the Bards’ Guild’s Songhouse.

“Time to get ta work, old worm.” The master bard said merrily. “We want something a little more well it is the Ides after all right?”

Agarak chimed harmoniously, the dragonharp was having a rare moment’s sharing of its bard’s amiable sentiment. An contented purring rose from its strings as it waited for Erinhue to form a picture of what he wanted in his mind.

Slabs of dark veined marble floated in along the same trail as the bubbles, heavy stone floating as effortlessly as the little spheres of contained air. They settled in the open field as others came and settled down atop or near to them.

Soon there was a half circle of stones laid out with a semi circle of tiered stone benches. The white stone was then covered in lush purple material with thick and comfy cushions set just right for a viewing audience In the center at the focus of every seat was a long stone platform to make a stage.

Two saplingw spourte on either side of the raised stone platform and each one grew to maturity in the speed of a heartbeat . Their clean limbed branches spread out high reaching towards the branches of the other until they intertwined above the stage. Leaves sprouted and vines of green leaves and colorful flowers grew and spread out to decorate the space and and fragrance to the air

Tall trees sprouted and grew behind the seating area standing thikd and tall with inter locked branches forming a shade from the hottest sun for those seated without stealing light from the stage.

Erinhue turned the magic of his Ring of Power towards the stage and Mythweaver enchanted the stage area so that every word so much as whispered here could be heard at the farthest reaches of the outer ring of seats.

The Bard opened his eyes as the dragonharp stopped singing. He looked at the Roman style theater before him and smiled his brightest smile. “This will do just fine I think, a perfect place for a bard to tell a tale.”
"Where ever you go, there you are." - Buckaroo Bonzi

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Postby Tethairwen » Sat Mar 15, 2008 2:03 pm

Not long after the outdoor theatre was finished, a lone rider on a large and slightly lame horse made her way up the path to the inn. She was dusty and travel-worn, and her horse whickered softly at the prospect of a few days' rest in the familiar pasture beyond the stables.

"Ah, they must be having another festival," the rider mused aloud as she dismounted tiredly and led her mount into the dusk of the stable. She took the time to carefully groom the horse, revealing white patches on a blue roan base. Finally, after carefully cleaning and checking the sore hoof, she turned him loose in the lush paddock. "You'll have plenty of rest here, boy," she murmered. Then she made her way to the inn.

After nodding to Agarak, who was back in his nook, and getting an almost cheery twang in reply, she made her way up a flight of stairs and found an empty room to stash her few belongings. Fellow bards would be arriving soon, and she needed to clean up and change into something more appropriate to one of the bards' guild festivals.
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Postby Claymore » Sun Mar 16, 2008 3:01 am

Claymore is one of the first to arrive. She eyes the stage nervously.
-Oh my this is big.
She puts her hand against the red bag that is bouncing against her hip. It's heavy with a lots of things she doesn't really need but having all her paraphernalia with her reassures her.
'Come on, 'she mutters to herself trying to calm her nerves. 'This not going to be any worse that the performances in the church or the auditions at the Academy.'
She lifts the flap of her bag and takes out a sleek, black case. After eight years of service it is quite worn with scratches everywhere. A blue sticker on the left tells whoever who takes trouble to decipher Claymore's spidery handwriting where she lives and what her e-mail address is. She lets her fingers trail over the embossed letters in the middle then clicks the case open. Inside the disassembled pieces of her flute are nestled in a piece of worn red velvet. The metal has dulled over time and the open-hole keys are a bit sticky. But she wouldn't change it for all the gold in the world. She quickly assembles it and begins to warm her flute up creating a sound not unlike a sea-storm howling. Meanwhile others are arriving and the benches are slowly filling up.
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Postby Black Serpent » Sun Mar 16, 2008 3:56 pm

Arasiel stood looking at the stage. 'Impressive', she thought. "I'll have to think of something fitting to perform. Maybe historical?' Yes, she knew what she would do.

She turned towards the Inn. 'Hopefully there'll still be room.' The door stood slightly ajar, and she looked in. It was welcoming, and as she moved through to an untaken room she knew that it would be a perfect place to muse over some new peices. She dropped into a handily placed chair and began to try out some fitting words. It would be hard to tell, but worthwhile.

Today the bards would hear her history.
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Postby Spirit_of_the_Willow » Sun Mar 16, 2008 6:17 pm

Tasar looked up from the piece she had chosen for the Festival. It had been a long time since she'd performed for the Bards, and she was not entirely confident that this piece was good enough. But as with her other original works, admittedly few and generally far between, this piece had risen from her heart and would not allow itself to remain unsung. Ostensibly she was studying it to be sure she remembered the words, but they were ingrained on her mind, and really she was just waiting around for the other Bard's to arrive. She'd arrived at the 'Pot the previous day, eager for this gathering of the most welcoming folk in all of Middle-earth.

The young woman, her honey hair in a long braid down her back, rose from the chair in her room and went to the door, her ever-present satchel hanging from her shoulder. Unless her ears were deceiving her, people had begun to arrive.

Bard's and other travelers were indeed gathering inside and outside. Some walked the halls searching for (and always finding) an empty room. Every time she came to the Splintered Chamberpot she marveled at the way the old inn never seemed to be too full. It was, she knew, likely due to the magic of the dragonharp Agarak, but that did not make it any less amazing. Actually, that made it even more amazing given Agarak's well known temperament.

Some people were sitting in the common room of the inn, and there was the telltale bustle of crowds gathering outside as well. The bards were gathering again!

Before going outside, Tasar thought she'd glance around the inn to see if there was anyone that she recognized. One never knew. At some festivals there was a host of familiar faces, at others those familiar were traveling, and there were new people or those who had been traveling during the previous festivals. There was a seemingly endless flow of new bards at each festival.

Not seeing any familiar faces, Tasar sighed, probably those she knew were outside. Brushing the skirts of her brightly colored festival dress, Tasar stepped out into the sunlight.

Her sharp ears were immediately attracted to the haunting sounds of an old flute. The tune being played upon it was obviously only a warm-up exercise, but Tasar was intrigued by the unusual tone it possessed. She followed the sound, and found a woman, a black case on the ground beside her, her eyes closed as she warmed up the instrument of tarnished silver. Not wanting to interrupt, Tasar waited for the familiar warm-up ritual to finish.
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Postby Claymore » Mon Mar 17, 2008 10:26 am

Claymore's flute is warm now and she plays a few scales. First slowly and vibrating to calm her breathing to the slow and deep one needed for playing. Then quickly, up and down like a jubilant lark, to warm her fingers. Then to reassure herself somewhat she plays one of her favourite pieces, the Isle of Innisfree. It's somewhere near the end that she notices that someone is watching. She abruplty stops and turns around.
'Hai.... can I do something for you?' she asks with a slightly cutting tone. She always feels a bit embarassed when someone is watching her while she practices. The honey-blonde woman is slightly taken aback by her agressive reaction. This makes Claymore realize how rude she and she blushes.
' Sorry ,' she mumbles. ' I'm nervous.'
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Postby Spirit_of_the_Willow » Mon Mar 17, 2008 3:50 pm

Warm sympathy quickly erased Tasar's surprise at the other woman's tone.

"Is this your first time performing at a Bard's Festival?" she asked with a sympathetic smile. "I remember very clearly how badly I was shaking my first time."

Tasar paused a moment, a thoughtful expression mingled with a humorous light in her eyes, "Actually, I have been terrified every time." She rolled her eyes expressively in an attempt to invite the other woman to share her humor, then continued again. "My name is Tasar, I am sorry if my watching upset you. I was merely intrigued by the tone of your flute, but I didn't want to interrupt your warm-up."
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Postby Claymore » Tue Mar 18, 2008 8:44 am

Claymore scratches her head.
'Is that so obvious?' she asks a bit embarassed. Tasar laughs.
-Yes it is.
Claymore can't help to smile.
-Well it's not the first time I perform for big crowds. But it's the first time I play something I've composed myself.
She gestures to a somewhat ratty piece of paper scribbled full with music notes who have been erased again and replaced by others, to be erased themselves in favor of still other notes.
-Instead of only shaking after the performance like I usually do, I already started now.
She lifts her hand that is indeed shaking slightly. ' If it continues like that I will play very fast,' she ads with a wry grin.
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Postby Tethairwen » Tue Mar 18, 2008 9:46 am

After changing to a plain but clean dress, Teth ordered a cider from the bar and walked outside to the festival area. A few more people had arrived, and she found a seat at the edge of the theatre where she could watch the goings-on without getting in the way. The cider was excellent as usual, and she was careful not to spill it on the blue-gray fabric of her dress. It was long and flowing, with minimal embroidery at the hems, and it accentuated her elvish gracefulness.

The sun shone in a clear sky, and it was warm for the season (or perhaps that was more of Agarak's doing). The elf settled back with her cider mug, watching the bustle around her as she silently rehearsed the song she'd be performing.
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Postby Spirit_of_the_Willow » Tue Mar 18, 2008 5:17 pm

' If it continues like that I will play very fast,' she ads with a wry grin.

Tasar chuckled in sympathy, "I know just what you mean. I think it's probably a common malady. Do you think that perhaps the majority of lively songs were originally intended to be sedate, but the performer got too nervous and played it faster than they intended to?" She asked, her blue eyes twinkling with humor.
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Postby Claymore » Wed Mar 19, 2008 2:42 pm

Claymore parodies a crazy scientist who's thinking hard.
-yes...yess you may be right.
She frowns in a ridiculous manner and strokes her chin. Then not able to keep it much longer, she starts to laugh. Tasar soon falls in.
'But it doesn't take away, that I don't know how I will manage to play if I'm will continue to shake like that,' Claymore says after the last hiccuping laugh has faded.
She pensively plays a few more scales while she eyes the benches who are getting more and more crowded. Then finally gathering all her courage she says:' Best to have it done and over. I'm going now.'
-Good luck.
-Thanks
She climbs the stage with shaking legs. But as soon as she sets foot on the stone her nervousness dissapears.
'I knew it,' she mutters. ' Why has it to be like this every time.' Then she lifts her head and smiles at the public seated on the benches.
'Dear fellow Bards thank you for suffering through my humble performance. I hope it won't be so boring you'll walk away.' she says with a mischievous smile.
-Now you may all have noticed that I have taken my flute with me . That's because unlike most of you I won't be reciting any poetry. I've already said once that it isn't really my strong point. Instead I've decided to take 'open' in the broadest meaning of the word and I have composed a little piece of music for you. It was inspired by a common phenomenon in the mountains. Though spring is already fast on his way in the lowlands, it has barely begun in the mountains. Only a few birds have yet dared to let their songs be heard and they are regularly interrupted by sudden explosions followed by thunderous roars... For now that the the air is warming, the rivers have waken up from their slumbers and are breaking free from their icy prisons. It begins with a few drops of melting water but it soon grows to a trickle. And then after a while the river grows impatient and with a huge bang, it breaks its mantle of ice and rushes to the waiting valley below. At first the river is full of pent up energy and it's wild antics can cause flash floods. But after a while it calms down and it's life-bringing waters flow gently to the lowlands where it soon makes the flowers grow again. This is what I tried to represent with this little piece of music.
After her introduction, Claymore bows and then inhaling deeply she brings her flute to her mouth and begins to play

With a sigh of relief she lowers her flute.
It's done
She bows a second time and not waiting for the reactions of the other bards she walks off the stage, shaking even more than when she climbed on it. She knows it will take at least ten minutes before all the adrenaline has dissapeared.
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Postby Spirit_of_the_Willow » Wed Mar 19, 2008 3:22 pm

"Oh bravo!" Tasar cried as she applauded loudly for Claymore's performance. As the other woman left the stage, her self possession left her and she began shaking again, exactly as she had predicted.

"That was lovely!" Tasar said, giving the other woman a swift hug before pulling back again. "I suppose I should get my performance over with as well. Then we can both just enjoy ourselves and watch the rest of the performances."

The honey-haired woman mounted the stage and took a deep breath before reciting in a voice which gave the feeling of gentle poignancy, and yet carried well to the whole crowd.

"In life people pass
Like a breeze on the sea
Just brushing the crests,
Barely registering its touch,
There a moment,
Then gone.
But still,
Water’s moved,
A current is begun.

People pass through
Like wind in the trees,
Bringing music
From leaves
And branches swaying.
Then all swings back,
Just a little different
For having sung.

People move on,
Like dust
Lifted by air,
Carried far astray,
Left in a field it rests.
Now a pile of dust,
It becomes
Nutrient rich earth,
Feeding nations.

People come, people go.
A mountain is carved by the wind."


Much affected by the strength of feeling which had caused this particular piece to be written, Tasar paused and listened to the moment of silence which followed, her eyes closed. Then there followed the normal round of applause, and she curtsied and left the stage.
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Postby Black Serpent » Wed Mar 19, 2008 9:54 pm

Hearing the lovely sounds of a flute floating up from the stage, Arasiel decided it was time to go down. She arrived just in time to applaud the end of the song, which brought her memories of childhood she thought were long gone. Entranced by the moving poetry of the next bard, Arasiel nearly forgot to that she was to go up next. Sighing, and praying that she would last through it, she moved onto the stage, to shy to give any introduction but her piece's name.

The Death of the Chieftain of the Southrons


With many men he rode to war
Bright his armour, sharp his sword
The sable host he lead away
And left his home ere break of day.

Over leagues he flew with speed
Through the plains his midnight steed
Carried him towards the fight
When morning came, though without light.

Tired but brave they formed a naith
Ordered by the hateful wraith
Silently they waited long
As the Northmen came with song.

Quickand fierce their forces clashed
But with his spear the white king dashed
My chief and father to the ground
and so to Mandos he was bound.

Breathless, wounded, deathly pale
One escaped to tell the tale
And shocked, the waiting women cryed
He gasped, "Lady, your father..."


Arasiel moved quickly off the stage, oblivious to what the other bards though, only wanting to disappear. "Well, I managed", she thought.
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Postby Claymore » Thu Mar 20, 2008 12:33 pm

When Tasar walks from the stage, she gets a hug back from Claymore.
-That was great. I didn't even notice that you were nervous.
-Really?
-Yep
Claymore tries to wipe away a tear without Tasar noticing but the other woman sees it anyway.
-Hey what's wrong?
-Nothing it's just your poem reminded me of a friend.
- What happened?
- Her mother died some six months earlier. I had to think of her.
Claymore rubs her eyes with a corner of her sleeve.
-But come on let's listen to the others. We're supposed to enjoy ourselves.
The following tragic poem doesn't do much to lift her spirits however. Claymore sniffles.
-Jeesh, someone seems determined to make me cry today.
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Postby erinhue » Sun Mar 23, 2008 6:43 am

Erinhue listened to the beautiful female voices as they sang or spoke their contributions to the current festival. Each in turn was compared for its difference to another voice now heard only in his heart.

The tone and subject matter of the previous poem struck a tender chord within and set Erinhue’s mind to wander down treacherous but well welcomed pathes. For a moment such wandering is a soothing potion for his soul but in another moment’s time, as always the soothing feeling changed and turned to something else.

He had planned to perform a piece of a much different temper and at a later point in the festival, but something moved him to change his mind. From its place above the bar Agarak sent down a few questioning notes.

“Not necessary, no, I’m fine” the bard replied in a strangely hesitant voice. “It’s just that I have to sing this…for her.”

Agarak crooned a comforting phrase and floated down to its bard’s grasp. Erinhue held the harp tight and closely to him as he walked out of The “Pot, into the ampitheater and took the stage. Without a word of introduction or explaination he laid his left hand flat on the strings and the dragonharp began to sing.

The sparkling tenor notes of the harp mingled in sublime conjunction with the warm rich quality of it’s bard’s baritone voice as he closed his eyes and sang.
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Postby erinhue » Sun Mar 23, 2008 6:44 am

Treebeard’s Lament

A long and twice a long ago
The world was paradise,
with twice our hearts desire
and milenium to abide
but time it brings a yearning
that will not in time subside
/that yearning bred a longing
for places far and wide

Your heart lived in the garden
while mine beat in the wood
who knew that when we parted
the rift would be for good

And side by side awhile we stayed
where each could have his own
the mild for you the wild for me
and all the world was home
but longing needs fulfilling
the heart cannot deny
our compromise was willing
but it led us to good-bye

Your heart beat in the valley
while mine walked in the hills
a thousand and more years gone by
and I am searching still

For just a little space of time
our paths would move apart
and each would go their way to find
the passions of their heart
time passes at a different pace
deep longings have their sway
and when I turned to seek your face
I could not find the way

Your heart walked in the pastures
and mine the forests roamed
there's no joy in the wildwood now
for your heart was my home.
"Where ever you go, there you are." - Buckaroo Bonzi

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Postby Black Serpent » Sun Mar 23, 2008 4:34 pm

Arasiel rose from the place at the foot of the stage where she had been sitting. The sounds had changed to those of harp and a man's voice singing. The lament sounded vagely familiar, though the wording was strange.

"Surely this is Treebeard's song re-written? Yes, it must be, but the lines are shorter and more...human", she thought.

As the song finished, Arasiel joined in applauding the bard's lament, wondering at how touching and sorrowful it had been.

"It must be the magic of his harp, Agarak."
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Postby erinhue » Mon Mar 24, 2008 7:20 pm

There once was a bard they called 'Hue
Who sang and made everyone blue
He will pick up the pace
With a smile on his face
And apologies to all of you.

As soon as he thinks up a rhyme
As if he will ever have time
He'll come through, you'll see
'Cause he can be funny
But don't get him started with the Elephant Jokes. :twisted:
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Postby Black Serpent » Mon Mar 24, 2008 10:08 pm

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...........

:(



:lmbo:
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Postby Tethairwen » Tue Mar 25, 2008 7:17 pm

Teth listened as Tasar, Arasiel, and Hue each performed in turn. The master bard's song made her heart ache, knowing of whom he sang.

She supposed now was as good a time for her performance as any, and quietly stepped up on the empty stage. This once she'd have no accompaniment: she hadn't written any, and she was too tired to play even if she had. Her voice never wavered though, carrying across the meadow in front of the old inn.

Down a dark pathway into a dark wood,
No map, no compass as travellers should,
Nary'a companion, just ever alone,
Wandering aimlessly so far from home.

Soft as a whisper the music will rise,
Faint lyrics winging their way to the skies;
Haunting the voice that sings such a song
Of bliss and of innocence long since gone.

Smile for the people now, make them believe;
So superficial's this life that you lead.
Your heart is so burdened, but don't let it show;
You're tired and weary, but don't let them know.

Why do you search so endlessly, tirelessly?
Why do you sing so mournful a lay?
Why do you live this charade of necessity?
Why do you wander so far away?

Traveling, wandering,
Singing, and pondering:
Far as the eye can see,
Nowhere is home.


As the last notes faded away, she stood with her head bowed, just for a moment. Then she turned and walked away, off the stage and toward the paddocks where her horse leaned his head over the fence.
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Postby rwhen » Wed Mar 26, 2008 8:01 am

It had been so long since rwhen was last in the region where a Bard's festival had been held. She had made the climb to ranks many years ago, but now the song of the Master Bard himself called her forward. This festival had already been graced with the stylings of Tethairwen, Erinhue, Claymore, Black Serpent and Spirit_of_the_Willow. Each equally entertained and moved the traveling Bard elf. Rwhen reflected on the times she had nervously taken the stage to move up in ranks of the Bards guild. Well today she would sing.

Rhythm

As the flow goes, over and beyond
Entwining and circling unuttered thought
Naught but the ears hear, nothing
Back in again, sounding resounding what.

Warping and wefting, bright blessings be
Hurtling and twirling verbage to the ground
Blowing all snowing with sparkle and light
Dragons, they magic make foriegn found.

Alone adrift, amid the massed throng
Smothered and covered unique is his song
Pulling and pushing a tortured soul long
Groping and grasping for a dwelling to belong.

Warbling, trembling this verse ebbs and tides
Enfolding, trusting and sheltering from above
Catch, fondle and handle sentiment blown
Friendship comes from ought else but love?


She bowwed deeply to the Master and headed to the bar area of the lovely Romanesque setting. An icy frothy brew awaited her parched throat. She sat back and wondered who would be next to perform.
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Postby Cock-Robin » Thu Apr 10, 2008 6:07 pm

The next one to ascend to the stage was a hobbit. One who had traveled to the Bards' Festival to hear the gifted ones. And indeed they were, for their songs sparked a song in his own heart. So, Cock-Robin came up to the stage with a drum, which he held between his knees as he sat and intoned in a varying metre, the following song:

An Unexpected Journey

An ugly duckling heard a call
Once upon a day,
"Arise, step forth, come hither,
For there is so much to say.
Wonders I deign to show you,
New things for you to see;
Follow your imagination,
Rise up and follow me!"

(It was a voice he recognized,
For one night years ago,
It summoned him from his born land
A bright gift to bestow.)

Inspired by the beckoning call,
He sprang forth through the open door,
New wonders to behold;
Little knowing what awaited him
In the tale that would enfold.

What he saw astonished him!

For another world, a new spectacle
Arose before his eyes,
And all those within welcomed him
Saying: Come and share our lives.

And he did, borne aloft on eagles' wings,
He saw marvels, cried aloud for joy.
Their tales he followed from his vantage point,
Impossible things for this boy.

Then paused: for though fantasy, they had familiar ring,
And astonished, he found this other tale
Was all along....his own.

But alas, the discovery came too late,
And, as in time remembered with awe,
What he had not sought now fell upon his pate.

He had flown too close, like a moth to the blaze,
Like the Phoenix, the flame-bird of lore, he caught fire.
With a cry of pain that shook the heavens above,
He perished, engulfed upon his pyre.

But he emerged from the ashes, renewed, transformed,
And wondered at the plumage that he now bore.
But to what purpose? What meanest this? he enquired,
To the One on high who had given such lore.

In answer he heard "It is now time to go."
And with a sense of loss that tore his heart,
He leaped back to his born world,

It was all but a dream.

Or was it? For a spark from the flame
Remained within him, he was not the same.
It coursed through his veins, and like legend of old,
Transformed all it met from dross into gold.

Old paths fell away, grey days from long ago,
In their place, a new virtue the spark set aglow.
New things from old, and like ancient alchemy,
He was transfigured in a flash from prose to poetry.
For what purpose he knows not, the mystery is beyond,
He merely follows the new road that goes ever, ever on.

The Great Enchantment did its work, and once upon a dawn,
An ugly duckling awakened, to find himself.....a swan.

The beat of the drum worked its magic as he sang. As he finished the song, the hobbit arose, wiped a tear from his eyes, bowed to the Master and to the assembled bards and descended from the stage.
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Postby Cock-Robin » Mon Apr 21, 2008 5:21 pm

Just bumping the thread. I know RL is a hassle, it is for me right now. Is it closed yet?

And yes, I was one of those annoying kids who asked my folks "Are we there yet?" every few minutes. :twisted:
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Postby Cock-Robin » Sat Jun 07, 2008 6:33 pm

After the hobbit did his song, he sat down and waited to see if there would be any others who would do their piece. His eyes were also on the Master, and wondered at his harp, the dragon harp.

This had been an eventful festival, to be sure. Every song, every poem, every bit of music fit together perfectly. But what would be the whole?

The silence that ensued deepened, which was pregnant with significance. Even it played its part in the grand tapestry which was this festival.

So, he watched, waited, and listened as the night wore on.

Soon, the first fingers of dawn graced the sky, and in answer, a nightingale perched on a nearby tree began its song. Its warbling was so fitting, and the hobbit enjoyed its song.
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Postby Cock-Robin » Thu Aug 07, 2008 5:29 pm

Well, at the risk of becoming the proverbial annoying child saying "Are we there yet? Are we there yet? I'm bumping the thread again. :P
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Happy New Year!



Meneldor, Warrior Bard, and Brondgast, Mithril Knights

Gwaeryn and Robin, The Expected Party

Meneldor, Alatar and Pallando, Darkness Reigns: The Resistance


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Postby GwenElf » Fri Aug 08, 2008 7:27 am

I think, given that the thread is labeled as the Ides of March festival, you might have better luck talking to the Bards about getting a more current festival going. Maybe a Bard Beach Party, or something. :D
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Postby rwhen » Fri Aug 08, 2008 12:34 pm

Or Fall festival, solstice.....;) I think this is about had it, BUT...


I totally enjoyed your writing Master Robin. :clap:
Love is as big or as little as a hug!!

vison! Alex!Rowanberry!OldToby

I will always treasure and remember your appreciation. Thank you. -2007 WCA's
Overwhelmed by your support and appreciation. Thank you. - 2008 WCA's

The Expected Party!! is now on the road to Gondor to celebrate. Join us.

And getting into trouble with Rally The Eldar.

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Vanadarlin', my SSOTH - 143 forever :hug:
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Postby Cock-Robin » Fri Aug 08, 2008 3:37 pm

Thanks, rwhen, that's awfully kind. Oh, and Sil, I wasn't thinking of continuing this one. I've just been pestering Hue to doing a closing post on this so another could open later. Oh, I've been the pest. As Bugs Bunny likes to say, ain't I a stinker? :twisted:
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Happy New Year!



Meneldor, Warrior Bard, and Brondgast, Mithril Knights

Gwaeryn and Robin, The Expected Party

Meneldor, Alatar and Pallando, Darkness Reigns: The Resistance


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