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Tolkien-inspired Random Word and Story Game Show: "A (Middle-earth) Christmas Story - Revisited!"

DanielLB
Immortal


Dec 3 2014, 10:50am

Post #1 of 6 (729 views)
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Tolkien-inspired Random Word and Story Game Show: "A (Middle-earth) Christmas Story - Revisited!" Can't Post



Is it really that time of year again? Last year the Tolkienia National Television presented "A (Middle-earth) Christmas Story". Half way through transmission an unexpected fog interfered with the signal and the story was never finished. Now it's time to complete it!

Why was Father Christmas in an igloo in Forochel?
Who has Father Christmas' coat?
Why were the names of Sam's children on doors in the igloo?
Is Polar Bear Father Christmas' favourite?
Who wrote the awful jokes on the whiteboard?
And why exactly was Shadowfax wearing Thranduil's stilettos?

Let's find out!



The idea of this game is to create one big Tolkien-inspired Christmas story, with a twist!

The story must have something to do with Tolkien's descriptions of anything cold, wintery or snowy in any of his writings, anything to do with his Father Christmas book if you happen to have it, and/or something entirely fan-fic having to do with winter holidays, only set in Middle-earth (any Age, any place, with any character). However, each new segment of the story must link with the previous segment. To twist the game even more, you must go to this link where you will be given three random words. With those three words, you must then use to continue the story. It doesn't matter if you write one sentence or one hundred (the usual contribution is between 2-5 sentences), but you MUST use all three words (and highlight them for us all to see). Sometimes the words are so disparate, that it becomes ludicrous!! That's the idea. If the random word generator link could be copied at the end of each new post, it will make it easier for the folks in threaded view, and it will make the game easier to follow for all. Do not worry too much about which words you are given, you can change the tense of the word, or use it as an adjective or verb, singular, plural etc. In the event of double posting, your story might have to be edited.

The story can go wherever your imagination will!

All game show participants will be awarded virtual prizes for especially hilarious sentences. The completed story will be the Christmas Nativity play in Tolkienia, starring Mayor Ethel as Father Christmas, Rembrethil as Shadowfax, Kim as the Shadowy Figure and Ruxendil_Thoorg as the Polar Bear. Supporting cast members - DanielLB, BlackFox, Brethil and Dame Ioreth - will play the rabble of Orcs.



Here is the story so far:

It all started when Father Christmas woke up in a haunted igloo in the cold harshness of Forochel. It was the first time it had happened. Feeling frightened, Father Christmas got up to put on his COAT. With fists clenched, a SCREWed up face, and teeth gnashed, he realised that his beloved COAT was missing! Immediately he called his favourite Reindeer, Shadowfax. Shadowfax was unique. He was smart though sometimes a little ... funny-smelling, for Shadowfax's favourite food were PEAS. Father Christmas called him anyway, for the situation was urgent. When suddenly he noticed a familiar sprig of CREEPer, a weed that covered trees with it’s green leaves and white berries, hanging from the ceiling. “Mistletoe?”, he said aloud. The doorway was SCREENed from view by a tapestry, undoubtably to block the chill draft coming in the door. PRESSed into the icy walls were symbols, runes of an ancient language. He squinted to read them, drawing back as he recognized the words. He saw the 'G' rune and knew - Gandalf had been here. "Shall we have FIREWORKS, I wonder? Very festive, I suppose..."

He went further along the hall, and as he turned a corner his torch guttered and died. "Damn that BILL Ferny," he thought. "Sold me a used torch." One careful step, and two, and suddenly his head rang and he saw stars, as it struck something cold and metal...by touch, a chandelier. He drew out his flint, thinking thank Aule my da' was a great TEACHER, I can light a fire in the dark with my head pounding.


Relighting the torch, he saw that the igloo was quite cramped, and so he decided to wait outside for Shadowfax. He buttoned up his coat, and headed outside. The MOON was bright, and reflected off the snow. Looking around, he saw the same crisp white coverlet, blanketing the landscape. 'No marks or tracks!!' How did I get here?' His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sight of a WHITEBOARD standing outside the igloo entrance. Coming closer, he could read what was written there. JOKES and limericks were scrawled across the board. 'What is this? Some kind of Istari Humor Club?. What have I gotten myself into?'

Peering closer, Father Christmas read some of the jokes aloud:

"What's Gandalf's favourite book?
SWORD Of The Flies"

He groaned. Another scrawling simply read: "Radagast has a RASH LOL!" Father Christmas giggled, before composing himself again. The last thing he read was:

Just knock twice on the FIREPLACE
shout and don't doubt
And she lost all her way
Will reveal her face."

Well, that's weird he thought. "This sounds more like a poem, or a riddle. Shadowfax, I think we should leave. The temperature has dropped, and there's fog forming over there. We're late as it is.". But as the Reindeer trotted out of the igloo, it was wearing
STILETTOS on LOAN from Thranduil. Father Christmas looked at the shoes and then at the reindeer. “Shadowfax! I don’t think you will get a MILE in those shoes. Have you been in the eggnog?” Shadowfax tossed his head as if to say he thought he looked fabulous, even without the copper lined silver cloak. Father Christmas stood staring at his reindeer, trying to figure out what to do next, when he heard a noise from the other side of the igloo. It was a sound like none he had heard before. He crept around for a closer look, Shadowfax’s heels clicking on the ice in back of him. Closer he crept when finally he could see what was making the other-worldly sound. It was a rickety old reel-to-reel projector, jiggling and rocking slightly back and forth. It was projecting a beam of light against a large, flat-sided snowdrift about 20 feet away. As the scenes spread across the drift, the words The Desolation of Smaug, Official TRAILER appeared. Shocked and bemused, Father Christmas and his reindeer companion watched with their mouths open, until a large wet paw slapped each of them across the eyes, as a gruff voice said behind them "Well! Aren't you even going to thank your friend Polar Bear after going to all this trouble to give you a sneak peak at the best Christmas-time movie of the year?" Father Christmas sat right down in the snow and roared with laughter. Shadaowfax, though, was not particularity amused, and sniffed "Any more surprises of that sort, and you'll have to carry me out on a STRETCHER!"

Before Polar Bear and Shadowfax could get into one of their arguments about which of them was Father Christmas' favorite, a GANG of goblins appeared, charging over the snowy hills less than half a mile away. "Quickly!" yelled Polar Bear, "Back in the igloo! Take the passage through the tapestry at the back right corner. I know a way out of here, through a secret
fireplace!

Polar Bear grabbed Father Christmas as they ran through the igloo. Taking the passage through the tapestry, they passed a number of rooms. Each marked with a name. Father Christmas halted. "Wait a minute" he said "I recognise these names. Elanor, Goldilocks, Ruby, Robin. And here is Frodo Gamgee. These are the names of the children of that round Hobbit, that lives in the Shire. Sam. Sam Gamgee! Why are their names here? Are they inside these rooms?"

"There's no time to explain" replied Polar Bear. He tossed a SUGAR cube to Shadowfax, who was starting to look decidedly fed up with this whole business. "Come on!" he shouted, as a pack of Orcs swung round the corner.

"But wait. I have forgotten my favourite pocket-HANDKERCHIEF. It must still be in the room where I woke up."

"We have no time for that."

Pulling Father Christmas again, Polar Bear opened the last door on the left, and locked the door behind them. He kept the key in a pouch around his neck. "This is more like it!" exclaimed Father Christmas. The room was full from top to bottom with Christmas decorations. Piles and piles of presents, Christmas crackers for an entire army, and the tallest most beautifully decorated tree he had ever seen. On the back wall was the fireplace. It was lit. "Who lit it?" thought Shadowfax having just nibbled on a carrot and now heading for a mince pie. On the mantelpiece stood a WARSHIP in a bottle. Father Christmas looked at it closer, and could almost guarantee that the waves were moving. The waves got rougher, and all of a sudden, it smashed! "I didn't touch it!" exclaimed Father Christmas. "Now" said Polar Bear "Just knock twice on the fireplace and we can leave this place." There was a massive bang on the door. The Orcs had made it, and were trying to break it down.

"No" replied Father Christmas. "I'm late, I'm cold and I'm tired. And my Reindeer is wearing stilettos! You're going to tell me right now why I am here. How did I get here, why is there a pack of Orcs after us, who are you, why did I see the movie trailer, why are the names of Sam Gamgee's children on doors, and if I knock on this fireplace who will I see? Tell me now!"

"Well, it's all connected" said Polar Bear "It began just yesterday when I was
playing some of Howard Shore's music on the grand PIANO in one of the lower halls of my cave. I was happily playing along when my nose began to twitch and the sweet aroma of HONEY began to waft through the spacious room. I tried to resist it for a while, but it was so strong and so sweet I just had to follow it. You know that no bear can resist the scent of clover honey for long. It always reminds me of long summer days with lazy bees buzzing around."

"Just what does honey have to do with our predicament?" Asked Father Christmas.

"Just let me finish my story and then you will know." said the rather grumpy Polar Bear. "As I was saying, the smell was so enticing that I decided to follow it and see where it was coming from. After following it through several winding passages I came across a large bearded man who appeared to be napping. A large jar of honey was standing next to a plate of the most delicious looking honey cakes that I had ever seen. I thought that I would try just a bite before going back to my music."

"You sound just like that stiletto wearing reindeer of mine. Just where has he gone to anyway?" Shadowfax was still in the corner of the room and was busy gobbling up what looked like the remainder of a great hobbit feast. ( Which is rather large for their size you know) Father Christmas turned to the gluttonous reindeer and glared at him with icy blue eyes. " Just why are you eating all that? I am going to have to put you on a diet when we get home, if we get home that is."

"After that I reached over and was so close to touching one of the cakes when the man opened his eyes and looked straight at me. I must confess that I jumped several feet in the air and seriously injured my tail when I came back down. He turned to me and asked if the TIDE had turned yet. I told him very politely that I had no idea about the sea or the tide that matter and that he had better ask some one else."

At that moment the Polar Bear's story was interrupted by a great crash from the hall. The door had crashed in and a tall figure wrapped in a dark cloak was standing in the doorway...


TO BE CONTINUED .......



by me ....

"I am the ghost of Christmas Past," said a demonic voice "whose coming was foretold by Gandalf the Slushy-Ice Grey".

"I hadn't quite got on to that part" hastily replied the Polar Bear.

"Where have you got to then? Have you told them about the third movie yet?" "No, not quite yet. Our trailer screening was interuppted by a pack of Orcs, who were banging on the door before you turned up."

"I wouldn't worry about them" laughed the cloaked stranger "I gave them an impossible task - installing a COLOUR PRINTER onto my laptop will keep them busy for hours! But let's stop stalling the business at hand, we're not POLITICIANS. The only way out of this igloo is by knocking on that that fireplace twice. But if you do, you will also unleash her" And with a sudden puff of pink smoke and golden sparkles he was gone.

There was silence. From within the fireplace, as if it were coming down the chimney, Mariah Carey's All I Want For Christmas Is You started to dimly play. "I've had enough of this, I just want to be with my Nephews who are staying with my cousin, Beorn." exclaimed the Polar Bear. Shadowfax, now with a turkey breast in his mouth, nodded in agreement.

"I should hardly feel it was Christmas if something ridiculous didn't happen." And with that, Father Christmas knocked the top of the mantel twice.



So without further ado, let's revisit "A (Middle-earth) Christmas Story" and complete it by Christmas Day.

Enjoy!



(This post was edited by DanielLB on Dec 3 2014, 10:51am)


Brethil
Half-elven


Dec 3 2014, 12:30pm

Post #2 of 6 (488 views)
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After the fireplace knock... [In reply to] Can't Post

  
The sound of the second knock faded. Silence fell, with only the sound of the fire crackling, and Shadowfax chewing. Then the smoke began to take shape; a willowy shape sinuously formed from the tendrils. A tall transparent Elf-woman appeared before them, wreathed in a soft white haze. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Present," she breathed, 'and once my tears fall, the next Ghost will appear to visit you. Then you shall learn much of the tide of your future. This future you must share with Gandalf the Slushy-grey, that ordained and perennial Middle-earth tourist." Then the Ghost frowned. "What is it you binge on there?"




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Ethel Duath
Half-elven


Dec 4 2014, 12:55am

Post #3 of 6 (472 views)
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"What is it you binge on there?" [In reply to] Can't Post

Shadowfax had moved on, over to a pile of very firm and slippery looking snowballs. "Mmmmm, crispy" he said, "but not very cold and refreshing. Rather, hmmm, spicy, I would say." The Elf-ghost glided over. "I'll take a look. There is a tax on snowball hors d'oeuvres, so substitutes are often slipped in without notice, entirely against all North Pole Health Department regulations. I've even seen some made of concrete."

She leaned over, picked one up and sniffed it, then took an experimental nibble. Suddenly, tears began to run down her translucent cheeks, and she sneezed violently. "Aaaaaaah! My food radar has failed yet again!" She began to dissolve slowly into the floor as Father Christmas caught the "snowball" she had thrown into the air in disgust. "Uh, um, onions! " he yelled at the top of his lungs. He tugged on Shadowfax's halter, guiding him to a large bowl filled with breath mints. "Munch on these, or you'll be sleeping outside in the pine woods for the next week!" But before the reindeer could so much as sniff at the edge of the bowl, the center began to rise up, and as a cascade of mints poured down off the emerging figure, the petrified watchers could discern the outline of a black-cloaked hulk, with a long, pointing finger, adorned with a frosty, glittering ring which was almost too bright to look at.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas yet to come!"

Random word generator: http://creativitygames.net/...erator/randomwords/3



(This post was edited by Ethel Duath on Dec 4 2014, 12:59am)


Brethil
Half-elven


Dec 4 2014, 11:24pm

Post #4 of 6 (442 views)
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"I am the Ghost of Christmas yet to come!" [In reply to] Can't Post

"And I come to you now, at the Eve of Christmas. I bear the ring of Mentos which allows me to see the future and past as a seamless vision of wisdom. And to clear my breath after I eat nachos." He bowed to Shadow fax, "Ma'am." Shadowfax snorted angrily. The Spirit squinted at the horse. "Sorry, but with those shoes you're not exactly broadcasting male." He stepped out from the cascade of mints. "Let's not beat around the bush anymore. I have information for Gandalf the Slushy-grey, as we call him here. He must have it if he ever wishes to set sail for the Blessed Realm."


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DanielLB
Immortal


Dec 5 2014, 7:29am

Post #5 of 6 (462 views)
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"He must have it if he ever wishes to set sail for the Blessed Realm." [In reply to] Can't Post

"The Temple of the Broken Moon houses the Last Christmas Tree of Middle-earth, which is protected by Daddy Noël, buried deep beneath the North Pole. Please don't try and lick it again, Polar Bear. There, you will find the information for Gandalf the Slushy-grey. However a series of challenges are designed to prevent seekers of the Tree from finding the room in which it is stored. First you must enter the Hall of Paperclips and avoid being pinned to oversized Christmas cards by them. Next, the turkeys must be arranged in weight order in the Gallows Room. If you make just one mistake, the floor will break through, causing you to plunge into a deep chasm of tinsel below the floor. And lastly, you must find the Goose which lays a Golden Egg. Crack the Egg and you will find the Key to Daddy Noël. But be warned, there are older and fouler things than Goblins in the deep places of the North Pole. And Polar Bear, did you not know you are a ..."

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(This post was edited by DanielLB on Dec 5 2014, 7:29am)


Rembrethil
Tol Eressea


Dec 6 2014, 11:42pm

Post #6 of 6 (458 views)
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'Did you not know you are a... [In reply to] Can't Post

dead ringer for a very successful friend of mine? Just slap on some sunglasses and you'd look just like him!'

They would have continued this conversation, but Father Christmas was eager to get out of the cramped room, and Shadowfax's sore feet began to make him doubt his fashion choices of that morning. Quickly getting direction to the closest hardware store for supplies, they hustled Polar Bear out of the room, and into the snow. The strange night, only seemed to get more strange-- and colder too!

First on the to-do list: finding the Hall of Paperclips. It was a relatively simple matter. It lay directly across the frozen wasteland; near the paper mill-- a convenient arrangement. However, several years ago, strange happenings at the Hall had caused it to be shut down. No one knew the exact reason why, but there was an epidemic of rumours. Some said...

Call me Rem, and remember, not all who ramble are lost...Uh...where was I?

 
 

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