From harnums@thekeep.org Fri May 12 17:25:20 2000 Date: Tue, 09 May 2000 19:53:06 -0400 From: Alan Harnum To: mike@thekeep.org Subject: Tunnels - Revised THE NARRATIVE OF THE TUNNELS AS CHRONICLED BY PRINCESS JURI OF THE ROYAL LINE OF AVALON (AGE TEN) I learned about the tunnels under the Citadel through Mother's admonition (given first, I believe, some seven months ago) to never go into them. This, of course, made them almost irrestible. But I am not given by nature to incaution, and did not feel adequate to attempting them until recently. It is best, I have found (and been taught by Mother) to approach anything--a battle, a conversation, an exploration--with as much knowledge about the subject beforehand as possible. Following is a record of what knowledge I was able to garner from my older siblings: Brother Ludwig had locked himself in his room three months ago, and was refusing to come out (Editor's note: He is still there as of this writing, as far I know). I shouted some questions at him through the door, but he screamed at me that he wasn't going to let anyone take his magic trousers, so we could all bloody well sod off, and take our giant ravenous tulips with us. Brother Ludwig is funny. Sister Tess told me that the tunnels are a very dangerous place for someone my age when I asked her, and that I should stay out of them. Then we drank tea and talked about other things for a while. Then I asked her again, and she told me that the tunnels were full of monsters who would eat a little girl like me right up. Then we drank more tea. Then I asked her again, and she went and got me something from her desk that she said was either a map of the tunnels or an embroidery pattern, or maybe something else entirely. Brother Angus told me that the tunnels are a very dangerous place for someone my age, and that I should stay out of them. Then he told me that again, when I asked him again. Then I stopped asking him, because he was starting to look annoyed. Sister Joan told me to go away, that she was busy. I asked her if she wanted to fence with me, and she said she had better things to do than fence with little girls. I don't like Sister Joan. Brother Meredith told me that the tunnels were full of mysteries, and that the Rose of Avalon had been spotted down there by a servant just last week. He told me that some people said the crypt of the Ashen Prince was down there, and possibly hidden treasure. And that he'd heard tell that the best place to get in was through a hidden door that was reputed to be behind a barrel of Avalonian Red (or of Nolavan Blue--he couldn't remember which) in the south-eastern wine cellar. And then he said that I was a very brave and curious girl, and gave me sweets. I like Brother Meredith. I spent the next few months looking in the library for anything about the tunnels. The information available is voluminous, ill-documented, and very often contradictory. There are several purported maps, none of which looked like one another or like the map Sister Tess gave me. I decided then that the best solution would be to make my own map, and to carry a ball of string with me so that I could easily find my own way out, like the hero in a story Mother told me. I made my preparations carefully. I took my sword to fight any monsters that were down there, and some drinks and snacks and sweets, and a ball of string, and a pen and ink and paper to make a map and some notes (even then, I envisioned writing this Narrative, although not its contents), and a lantern. I resolved to spend no more than sunrise to sunset on my initial exploration, so as not to arouse the suspicions of Mother or anyone else. After some searching, I located the hidden door in the south-eastern wine cellar (it was actually behind a barrel of Lethian Green). Entering through the door and closing it behind me, I lit the lantern and found myself in a long rough-hewn tunnel of mountain bedrock. On the walls were empty torch sconces, and I carefully tied the end of my ball of string to one. I walked through the tunnels until my ball of string was almost gone (perhaps five hundred feet--it was a large ball), mapping as I went. The tunnels grew gradually more cramped and narrow as I went, and showed fewer signs of human touch upon them. Once, while I walked, I received the distinct impression that I was being watched, but, when I turned and drew my sword, no watcher was there. When I ran out of string, I turned around and began to follow it back towards the entrance. For the first hundred feet, all was well: the passages matched the map I had made perfectly. Soon after that, though, I felt a cold chill as I rounded a corner. Thinking it only a draft carried from some subterranean crevice, I paid no attention to it. It soon became apparent, however, that the passages no longer corresponded to my mapping. Believing myself merely guilty of careless cartography, I followed the string for another fifty feet or so, until I turned another corner and faced a blank wall of bedrock, featureless and smooth as a dark looking-glass. At the foot of it lay another ball of string, connected to mine. I was most assuredly vexed, and (I must admit, for truth is more important than pride in a chronicle of this nature) more than a little afraid. I began to believe Sister Tess's stories of the child-eating monsters, and came at first to the conclusion that one of them had moved my ball of string. I tried to recall the route I had taken within my mind, but could not. For a time, I tried to find my way back to a familiar place, but could not. By then, the lantern's fuel was half-consumed. I was hungry also by that time, but refrained from eating, not knowing how long it would be until I found my way out. I sat down and rested, and that brought me to thinking of my situation, and I grew more afraid. I am shamed to say that I even cried a little. I decided then that the best place to be when my light went out would be a place with only one way in and out, like the dead end my ill-fated string trail had led me to. I could wait for rescue then (rescue would assuredly come--my brothers and sisters would, as soon as it was realized I was missing, realize from the questions I had asked all of them that I had likely gone to explore the tunnels), and would be less likely to be taken by surprise by anything monstrous that wandered down here. Not that I could fight well in the dark, but it was the best I could do. I could not find such a place, however, and, when my lantern finally went out, I was in another of the ubiquitous rough tunnels. I sat down with my back against the wall and waited. Rescue would come soon enough. I had no idea how long I sat there until I was found (nearly two days--it did not seem so long while I was there). My sense of time was fragile so deep beneath the earth, in such pervasive darkness. When hunger and thirst grew so great that I could not stand it, I ate and drank sparingly. Again, I must shamefully confess that I cried several times during that period. I experienced some strange things near the end, but by then, I was so tired (I tried to stay awake the entire time, as I could not risk sleep, but am unsure if I managed) that I cannot say if they truly occured, or were mere auditory dreams or hallucinations. Laughter more than once. Another time, the sound of someone crying, so sad that I cried along with them, this time with grief rather than fear. Once, a cold and charnel wind, pungent with attar, passed by me. Another time, I saw what I thought was a faint light, and dared then to call out once for help--but only my own voice echoed back to me, and I did not call again, for fear of drawing things other than searchers to my position. Finally, however, when I had only a little food and water left, I saw a distant light appear down the tunnel, and heard a voice faintly calling my name. I called back, and rose shakily (I was exhausted, and numb from so much sitting) to walk towards the light. But a curve in the passage deceived me, and I walked hard into a wall, falling stunned to the ground. The voice calling my name grew louder, and I recognized it as Brother Angus. He sounded very angry and very worried and very relieved, all at the same time. He wanted to know how I had ever found my way into this part of the tunnels, but I was exhausted and still frightened, and could not seem to tell him that I had found my way in by a rumour Brother Meredith had told me--I tried, but it seemed as though the words would not come out. I began (yet again, to my great shame) to cry again, and Brother Angus tried to comfort me. He hugged me, and then picked me up (with some effort) and carried me out of the tunnels. I fell asleep in his arms. What comes after deals not with the tunnels, and so... THUS ENDS THE NARRATIVE OF THE TUNNELS AS CHRONICLED BY PRINCESS JURI OF THE ROYAL LINE OF AVALON (AGE TEN)