~Linhalaith's The Lord of the Rings Online Picture Diary~

The Lord of the Rings Online is a well-established MMORPG set in Middle-earth, the richly detailed European fantasy world immortalised in J.R.R. Tolkien's literary works. I decided to make an SSLP in it.

What you're about to read is the picture diary of Linhalaith, a kind and courageous Elvish warrior with a camera and a very full scrapbook. I aim to cover everything from the tutorial lands of Thorin's Gate, to the unknown place where I'll probably get bored of The Lord of the Rings Online in a few months.

Chapter 7: Pumpkin Daze

When you play an MMORPG, and sometimes don't play said MMORPG for weeks at a time, the yearly festivals come thick and fast. Autumn had brought Iavasmereth, or the Harvest Festival to you and me. Thus it was that Linhalaith made for the Bree-land Festival Grounds (north-east of Thornley's work site and south of Hengstacer's Farm), eager to have some seasonal experiences.

Bess Forester, with some lovely pumpkins.

Linhalaith was exited about the pumpkin picking, until she discovered that both pumpkin fields were smaller than her former bedroom in Caras Galadhon, and she was allowed but one pumpkin per day.

"Well, it's to do with inflation," Bess explained when pressed on the issue. "Technically, we can supply an infinite number of pumpkins, but that could easily flood the market. Can you imagine it? A market flooded with pumpkins?"

"I fear that I can." Linhalaith shuddered. "Stepping over pumpkins, stubbing your toes on pumpkins... And all too soon, an ocean of orange mud. The horror!"

To take her mind off the pumpkins, Linhalaith entered the pie-eating contest. She wasn't surprised by how many of the local Hobbits were in attendance, eager to prove the swiftness of their teeth against Bree-land's pastry.

Soon the contest began, and Linhalaith threw herself upon the nearest pie, wielding her fork like a dagger. She chewed vigorously for a few seconds, but then her face turned green. "Pumpkin!" she wailed, pushing away her plate and fleeing the table.

It was odd; normally, she would have loved a freshly-baked pumpkin pie, but that one had made her tongue recoil. Linhalaith wandered into Bree-town, looking to take her mind off unwelcome pumpkin surprises, and spent an hour in Laila's Market while it rained.

"Are you sure this isn't wildly out-of-character for me?" --Linhalaith

The roads of Bree were rough and held water after the rain. Rather than going back to the Harvest Festival, Linhalaith made up her mind to jump in every puddle in the village (which was also a town). She spent another half-hour doing so, splashing water about her knees and drawing the eye of many a confused townsperson, until one puddle in the Stone Quarter gave her pause.

The puddle had a squashed, oval look about it, almost flat on its longer sides. The way the sunlight played on the cobblestones beneath the water made it seem brighter than normal, orange even. And one one side of it was a strange little protrusion, an extra pool of water where some stones had been broken, giving the puddle the very shape of a...

"PUMPKIN!" Linhalaith screamed in despair. Enraged, she stomped and kicked at the water. Had you been watching from a distance, you may well have thought she still was playing, but Linhalaith had had more than her fill of puddles that day.

Could this be Bess's sister?

Early in the evening, Linhalaith decided to try the Festival Grounds again. She applied to learn Bree-landish dancing, which first meant waiting several minutes for the dance to begin.

Her hair's a different colour, but her clothes look exactlty the same. Really makes you think...

Eventually, her patience was rewarded, and the dance instructor walked her through a series of steps to dance as a Bree-lander does. The instructor had clearly been expecting more punters, for she doggedly spoke as if Linhalaith was a whole crowd of people.

"Keep your knees up, everyone!" the instructor said brightly, making unbroken eye contact with Linhalaith. "And if you could all leave some room between yourselves, an arm's length at least, that'd be splendid. Now, take your partner by the hand..."

Linhalaith gave the instructor a hard stare.

"Do you want to lead?" sighed the instructor, taking Linhalaith's hand.

"What is a spider? A miserable pile of spider! I-I mean legs!" --Linhalaith, still trying to sound cool

A while later, Linhalaith found herself at a haunted burrow in the Shire. She showed little fear when ghosts made of paper leapt down from the ceiling, nor when spiders made of dyed wood pounced out of the walls, nor when swarms of cardboard bats fell on her. She did scream, however, and leap into the arms of the nearest (then quite overburdened) Hobbit, when a pumpkin rolled from a wardrobe and nudged her toe.

"Pumpkins and pumpkins..." Linhalaith groaned, shivering against the night air. "Am I forever to look over my shoulder in terror of those big, round, orange root vegetables, oh so delicious in soup?! Alas!"

Lately it was turning colder at night, and the time for short sleeves had passed. Linhalaith's eyes brightened when she remembered how MMORPGs' yearly festivals tended to come with a whole host of new outfits you could buy. This time, Linhalaith hurried to the Shire's own "festival ground", beneath the Party Tree, and bought a big, floppy witch hat.

Then she put it away, and wore a robe she'd got from Thornley instead.