Navigating the Labyrinth (23 Jan 2003) Tom encounters Simon - the real Simon - underneath the Palace of All Seasons.

Palace Cellars
The cellars of the Palace are extensive and dry, but not extensively dusty, for servants come in here now and then to unearth whatever supplies they need. With winter so thick about the land, they have been foraging farther and farther into the normally untouched stores and wine cellars, dug many feet into the earth by past Kings who sought to ensure that the Palace would weather sieges and difficult times. Perhaps some of these tunnels connect to stranger places such as dungeons and natural caves. No one knows, for the plans are difficult to read and map mainly the more explored and used parts.

Having equipped himself at the armory and taken a side trip to the infirmary to collect what evidence might have been left behind (alas, the infirmary was cleaned and the maids were unable to tell him where the dust would have gone) Thomas finds himself at something of a loss as to where to proceed. But there is one thing he does know, from having reviewed the plans available: most of the tunnels underlying the Palace can be accessed from the cellars here. There are dungeons as well, but they are supposedly a separate complex that cannot be accessed except through the stairs.

So it is that Thomas now stands in the midst of old barrels and boxes of dry stores. Somewhere in here, perhaps, there lies the forgotten siege-breaker tunnel ... or perhaps other things as yet unguessable.

Thomas has taken a moment to make sure his armor is neatly secured underneath his vest and cloak to mute out the sounds of moving links. He holds up a shuttered lantern and looks around in the gloom, listening quietly. In his other hand, he holds a small dagger, prepped to mark the way he goes, using a pattern of arrows, with all of themcrisscrossing over each other, but making the crisscross point in the real direction he went, instead of just being a single arrow telling everyone which way he went. He then slowly walks the room, looking for disturbed dust and footprints, or signs of moved boxes that might conceal a passage.

The light is poor and obscures the dust, so that everything this far back in the cellars appears tinged in gray. There are dark shadows at the back of the room.

Thomas crouches down and moves slower, keeping his light shown on the floor to hopefully improve detecting movement directions. He heads slowly toward the shadows, keeping his eyes on the floor, and his hearing more focused on the shadows ahead.

The light reveals what Thomas had halfway guessed already: what appeared to be an arched section of wall is actually a passage leading further on. This is one of several arches, each of which might be another passage. The dust thickens, hovering in the beam of light cast by his shuttered lantern.

Thomas approaches the archway and shines his lantern along the frame, looking for perhaps places where someone brushed against it and disturbed the dust.

Footprints show faintly in the dust. At that moment, a very faint sound rattles down the passage-- no, it's not this passage, but the one to the right. It's as if someone had accidentally jostled something.

Thomas shutters the lamp to a dim glow and starts to move towards the right passage. He listens intently and sheathes his dagger for the moment. Shortly, his hand comes to rest on his sword hilt, ready for a possible attack.

The passage leads to a series of steps, which wind downwardto a vast wine cellar, so old that spider webs drape liberally from the necks of the bottles in their backs to each other and to the floor. There might be bottles worth a king's ransom here. Footprints are visible in the dust, circling around the room and pausing close by each shadowing of wooden beams, with visibly torn webs flapping. They lead toward a far, dark corner, shadowed from here by barrels stacked one upon the other.

A slight wind sighs across Thomas's face: unmistakably stale air, that has lain for a very long time before being released.

Thomas moves around the room in the opposite direction as the footprints, targeting the far corner to which they lead. His eyes lock on the far corner, watching for any change in the shadows.

There is none, only silence ... but then, there is sound after all, though only the sound that wind makes, sighing through the tunnels.

Thomas keeps moving. Rushing ahead would only be foolhardy at this point. Verify the room is clear, then follow the footprints into the tunnels.

The lantern's light dispels the shadows, revealing a trapdoor that has been pulled open and now lies against the wall. Footprints are clearly visible, and the thickness of the dust suggests this is the first time this trapdoor has been opened in Years.

Thomas approaches the door carefully, looking for a ladder or rope going downward.

Beyond ... footsteps? They are echoes of very light foot-falls.Beneath the trap door is a stairway of heavy stone blocks stackedone on another.

Thomas pauses at the trapdoor and listens for a moment. "Going away or coming towards?" he wonders at the sound of the steps...

The footsteps fade slowly.

Thomas makes his way down the steps carefully; touching each one with a toe to test stability, then moving on if safe. He also tries to keep an eye out for any trip-lines or alarms he might set off.

The stairs lead down to a corridor that twists out of sight at both ends quickly. Its low height and the strange carvings at the top of each wall suggest it might have been built by ancient people other than those that presently dwell within Mirari. Footprints lead away from this point, freshly made, and the accompanying sounds offootsteps echo as if they have bounced through at least several corners.

Thomas's eyes narrow and he heads off down the corridor, slow and careful. A small smile quirks on his face as he moves. Ah, if I only had time to examine the ruins down here. Perhaps later, the future depends on ending Lord Eoin's threat first.

The Lord Explorer trails the unknown person like a ghost, through several windings. It becomes rapidly obvious, both from the way the path winds and the occasional appearance of fingertip-shaped clean surfaces on the dusty walls, the other person is simply following the right-hand wall to navigate the maze.

It is at a chamber of unguessable purpose (it features a basin at the center and perhaps a skylight, or an air ventilation tunnel) that Thomas realizes the footsteps are coming back his way. This tunnel must dead-end.

Thomas slips back into the passageway he entered from and shutters his lantern as best he can, draping his cloak over it. He presses against the right wall, reasoning that this person will keep following the same pattern, and thus not pass back his way. He listens, tracking by sound, with one hand at his sheathed sword, ready.

Footsteps return to the room: Simon, with a torch held overhead. The young boy looks almost exactly like Sir Lefallon, but after so long in Sir Lefallon's company, Thomas sees tiny differences. He is thicker-built than the explorer remembers - though perhaps that just means he has been eating better - and is dressed in a gray cloak atop a page's attire. There is fear in his eyes as he looks about, though he misses the shadowy figure in the corridor from which he came. Simon's hand reaches out to the wall as he turns and follows the right wall, to the corridor immediately opposite Thomas's.

Thomas waits for Simon to head down the corridor a bit, then slinks after him slowly. Simon may lead me right to the enemy. While I could possibly confront him now -- better to see what they are up to first. Plus, it's likely Simon would just call me a liar anyway at this time.

The younger boy coughs, then pauses to drink from a belt-canteen, while Thomas lurks unseen behind him. "It's got to be around here somewhere," he mutters to himself, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself of it. "These tunnels go everywhere."

Thomas pauses where he stands and continues listening. Where what is...? The old siege tunnels? What? he wonders.

Simon reaches up to trace the figures of the ancient people that run across the top of both walls. "I wonder who these people were? Did they come before all this?" he muses, talking to himself. "Before the Rules? What happened to them when the Lords and Ladies came?"

Thomas continues to just wait in the darkness, cloaked. What does he seek down here? He obviously knows about the Rules, and must then know about Eoin. So, why does he continue to help? he wonders.

"They must have been run out; that's the kind of people they were," Simon concludes bitterly. He tugs his cloak back over his shoulders and sets onward again.

Thomas moves once again, slowly following Simon through the tunnels. Hatred swells in him, it seems, Thomas thinks, What has Eoin been telling him?

It seems as if Simon lacks the power to read Thomas's mind, for no answer comes back to him. The young boy presses on, traversing ancient corridors and starting a climb up a winding staircase.

Ever curious, the explorer continues after him.

The staircase ends in a gallery that might have been huge to the ancient people that dwelled here, but is a normal-sized hall to Simon and Thomas. The young boy's hand traces across the wall to find a veneered oak door and its brass handle, placed at his waist height. He tugs several times, and finds it locked. He reaches into his pouch and fetches out several long wires with odd crinkles in them, setting his torch down against one of the columns opposite the door.

"So, what is it that you are looking for?" Thomas finally says softly from the shadows. He tenses his muscles, prepared to pursue should Simon run.

Simon glances both ways habitually, then starts as Thomas's voice reaches him. "What-- Tom? Is that really you, Tom?"

"Worn, but yes," comes Thomas's reply. He makes no move to leave the shadows yet.

The younger boy grins. "Boy, am I glad to see you! Maybe you'll have better luck finding it. Listen, Tom," he says, leaning forward urgently. "I know you've probably been told all about the Destroyer and how he's out to destroy everything, but that's all wrong. And I need your help to fix everything."

Thomas arches an eyebrow. "How is it wrong? If you can prove what you say, I'm willing to listen. But, understand I have a history with Lord Eoin, and I'm not going to just accept anything. Sorry, Simon," Thomas replies, watching the boy carefully.

"Well, what happened was that they needed a villain, back when," Simon says to the shadows, sitting down tailor-fashion, and looking roughly in the direction of Thomas's voice. "They wrote a Rule to make Eoin it. And they would always be the stars of the show. Time after time after time, they brought him back, then they defeated him, then they brought him back. Then they stopped coming after a while, and things got real peaceful, since the Destroyer wasn't needed any more. Until recently."

"You can probably guess who changed that," the young boy says.

"Let me guess -- Rebecca," Thomas says quietly.

Simon grins wryly. "You got it. There's trouble in the Kingdom, and a mysterious power behind it all. And who's elected when it comes to dark forces of doom and destruction?"

"That may be true, it may not. I share no love for Rebecca, but would you listen to me after you finish? There may be truth to both of what each of us knows. Please, continue -- then I will share with you what I know," Thomas says.

"It's no coincidence that Rebecca's the most powerful sorceress of this time - of all time," Simon says. "The rest of us, we're there to play roles in her fantasy. And when Eoin falls, it will be by some master spell of hers, you can count on that. But that's only true ... so long as the Rules say it's true."

The young boy gestures to the doors. "Somewhere aroundhere, there's a chamber with the Book of Historie. That's supposed to be the book where the Rules are written. With that, and with the right pen-- a pen that belonged to one of us, because we have the power to change the Rules-- the Destroyer can change that Rule. He can stop having to be the bad guy. He can be free."

"The only pen that would have belonged to one of us that made it to this world would have been mine. The one taken from me in the cave. But, can I share what I learned of this world and its origins? My ... grandmother was one of the founders and I learned much from her," Thomas says carefully.

"All this business was just because he had to," Simon says. "There's got to be a plot, and there's got to be a plot behind that, because that's what the Destroyer does, according to the Rules. But I can feel the torment in him. He wants to be free, more than anything else. He wants this to be over." A long pause, a deep breath, and then Simon nods to Thomas.

"Lord Eoin -- he's a reflection of John Harcourt. A long time ago my grandmother played with the Harcourts a game in which they created a fantasy world. When Ryan Jordan came into the game -- King Riordan -- he got angry. Angry because they chose Ryan to be king over him. So, John decided to destroy the game -- and thus became the Destroyer of legends," Thomas narrates.

"So, it may be that what you say is true," he continues, "that he seeks to be free of the influence that John had all those years ago. Or, he may not. I'm not here to continue him as some villain. I want this to end. I want a true peace, without a threat to continue. I swore I served all of Mirari, not one house. I seek peace for all. So, if what you say is true, I will gladly help you free Lord Eoin from this role. But, I wish to ask you to be careful of it. I'm not sure which side speaks the whole truth, and we cannot accept what either side says blindly, okay? I will help find the book, but I suggest we take care in what we do with it. We must be absolutely sure of what is right before we act with it." Thomas pauses for breath, then, "Do you agree?"

Simon is quiet for a long time before he shakes his head. "First, if we find the book, I have to know, what would you do with it? If it were up to just you, that is. Not Rebecca, not Alice, not Agatha, not me, just you," the boy emphasizes.

"Undo the rule that condemns a King to a life of only a Year, to start," Thomas replies after a moment. "Second, see if I can break the link that lets people from our world influence this one, so people don't become influenced by it. This world should choose its own destiny, not be bound by whims of others. People deserve to choose theirown fate and follow their dreams -- not someone else's."

Simon nods. "And then?"

"Leave this world to its people to forge as they want. Nothing more. I don't seek to be considered something great," Thomas replies. "We shouldn't meddle more than absolutely necessary. None of us can guess at what the consequences of our decisions would be say, fifty years from now."

The young boy shakes his head. "Each of those Rules traps someone, binds someone or even a whole people to live according to its dictate. If you truly want Mirari to be free, we have to unbind all the Rules. The Destroyer is one, but what about the Rules that say Mirari must be governed by its twelve Houses? What if people want to try something different-- like democracy? They can't, they can't even imagine living any other way."

"And what says what we decide would be any better, Simon? We are not Gods. We do not have the right to meddle in their lives. We may have all the good intentions in the world -- but we cannot see all ends. Do you know what Mirari was like before there were any rules?" Thomas asks.

Simon shakes his head. "But neither do you! People who believe in order will always portray chaos in the worst possible light, don't you see that? And if you just change one rule to suit you, then go home and throw away the key, maybe it will all stagnate without our help." He sighs. "Look, I'm not saying that we should act like little gods, because I think we can be better than that. At least we can listen to what people want, and help them." He points a finger accusingly at Tom. "Why change the rule about the King living a Year?"

"Because one person should be not forced to die," Thomas replies simply. "That is one thing they want. You said we should listen to what they want and I agree with that. But, we must set limits on what we change. You want to build a perfect world and I'm telling you it's not possible, because we are not perfect."

"Does that mean we shouldn't try?!" Simon says angrily. "What about the Destroyer? Why wouldn't you change his Rule too? It's the one forcing him to be the personage of all evil in Mirari. The Kings can do anything they want for a Year-- the Destroyer has to not just watch death and corruption, he has to spread it!"

"Did I not say separate their ties from the mortal world? That includes separating that which binds him so he can chose his own fate as well," Thomas says and steps into the light. He then draws his sword and throws it at Simon's feet. "I am already responsible for the loss of one person in this world, Simon. I destroyed the past of one person. I caused all his friends to forget him. I will not be the cause of wiping out the family and friends of those who exist now. And, if you intend to do that, if you intend to re-write all the rules on this world and reshape all their lives -- then pick up my sword. You start with me. If you want to do it, you have to strike me down. Here, now. Because I will not let others be harmed any further. They've all been used enough."

Simon kneels to take the sword, hefting it. What is a light and swift sword to Thomas is heavy and requires the smaller boy two hands to carry. "You were always my best friend from the moment that you saved me from Boris, Tom," he says.

"And I will not fight you. I want you to understand what you will have to do, Simon. If you want to re-write everything, you are going to destroy people. I want you to understand what that will be like. If you feel it is what you must do, then strike me down," Thomas says sadly. "Understand the burden you are about to take on yourself."

"No one ever stepped in to make a difference for me like that before. And no one did again ... until Lord April-- Eoin-- sent Tat-- Sir Lefallon to stand in for me, so he could tell me what needed to be done." The sword wavers in his hands. "Darn it! Why do you have to make everything so hard? I don't want to change everyone, I just want to do what's right for them! Don't you want that too?"

"I do. I always have. I've always sought truth, and in this world, the role that formed around me has done the same. I am a part of this world now too. You will have to destroy me too, Simon. If you undo all the rules, you will change everyone. You will erase their pasts, their families, everything. I've seen it happen once with someone, and it was my fault. Tat no longer exists, Simon. I erased him," Thomas says sadly. "He became Sir Lefallon, and his past as Tat, is gone. His friends no longer remember him. Whatever family he may have had, will have forgotten him. It's not so simple, to change things. It never works quite how you would want. While this world may not be perfect, the people here now have lives, family, people who love them. I want to better what they have, not completely redo it. I want you to look me in the eye. You will have to destroy lives if you want to undo all the rules. You will have to kill. If you feel that is truly the right thing to do, then strike. Be sure you can face the pain that you will have to face to walk that path."

"Tatterdemalion," says Simon, remembering the name at last. "Lord April said his name to me once, but then he forgot it." The sword clatters to the ground again as he makes his decision. "I'm not going to kill you. I'll tell you what I know about the book and go along with you-- on one condition."

"State it," Thomas says quietly.

The young boy says determinedly, "I get to hold onto the book. You get to hold onto me."

"I will agree with yours as long as any pen we find that may be used, I hold," Thomas replies.

Simon grins. "All right! Boy, it's good to be working together again." He sticks his hand out to Thomas to shake.

Thomas shakes the offered hand, then retrieves his sword. "Neither of us may know the whole truth, so best we check each other," Thomas says. "So, what do you know? And I may know where to look for the book."

"Not a lot, actually," Simon says as he takes his torch up again. "There's a chamber under the statue in the RoyalSiege that's supposed to contain the Book of Historie. Legend has it that Lord Mel always opened it for a King when he retired at the end of his Year. Now I don't exactly have Lord Mel in my pocket, but I think that there must be a secret way to get in there. My sense of direction is pretty lousy though, so I don't know exactly where in this complex it is...." He looks up at Tom hopefully.

"I knew about the chamber under the statue, and that is what I was going to suggest," Thomas replies and looks the boy over for a locket or any sort of trinket that might be being used by the Destroyer to track Simon. "But, if we go back to a known point below the castle, I can probably figure the directions from there on which passages to take."

The clasp pin on Simon's cloak, shaped like an ornate medieval calligraphic "E," might be a candidate for some kind of trinket ... but so might the somewhat ornate dagger in his belt, which is to say nothing of the mysteries of the shadowy insides of his cloak, or his belt-pouch. Simon, apparently unaware of Thomas's scrutiny, nods to this. "Lead on then!" he says.

Thomas starts heading back to the point where the trap door was, for a reference point. "So, have you ever been to Lord Eoin's fortress?" Thomas asks as they walk.

"No, but I've heard that it's huge! And the outside gate is shaped like a great big skull," Simon says cheerfully. Their footsteps and voices echo hollowly around the corridors.

"It is," Thomas answers quietly and tries to get a bearing on how much, if any, the corridors curve around as they go. "When we find the book, do you mind if we read through it? I want to see what all the rules are that are in it."

"Well, of course we've got to read through it," Simon says as if that was obvious. "Who knows what they wrote? Maybe they wiped out a whole people by saying exactly who lived in these lands. Bam, there goes a whole other people no one ever told them about!"

As they approach the odd room they passed through the first time, Thomas pauses and hmms, then heads down one of the corridors. "I think it's this way," Thomas says. "And can I ask another favor? I'm willing to drop my sword, pouch, and so on a bit before we get there, if you're willing to drop much of what you carry as well. I'm not sure who's telling the truth to either of us and I want nothing on either of us that might be used to track us. Fair?"

Simon looks puzzled for a moment, before he gets it. "All right," he says, youthful face turning serious again. "You've got it."

"I don't want Rebecca, or anyone else who might be up to something poofing in on us while we're finding out what the book says. I know it's a bit paranoid, but thanks," Thomas says. As they walk, he examines the walls, making sure they're not curving and looking for any runes or pictograms that might lend a clue if they are going the right way.

The corridor leads through a large overgrown garden underground. Clever shafts conduct pale moonlight through them to illuminate the leaves, and a thick smell hangs in the air. Thomas's sense of direction leads them through it and upward, near a rock incline that trickles water slowly, and through more stairs that wind upward to another hallway. At the end of this hall is an immense stone arch with a lion's head at the top, lion's paws at the base, and a door within the arch. The dust is thick and hovers around Simon's torch like a halo.

There is no doorknob upon this door, nor a keyhole. It is a flat surface of dark walnut, apparently so massive that it could resist the greatest battering ram.

Thomas approaches the door and stands before it. "We're here, and there's a problem. No obvious access," he replies. "Aside from the fact we need to backtrack and discard possibly dangerous items, we have a few choices to make. We look for a secret trigger to open the door -- or we contact the Lord Protector, who I'm sure knows how to open the door. I'm pretty certain you don't want to do that, but I thought I would pose it as a possibility." He pauses and looks up at the lion, then adds, "In any event, we stand on the threshold to a way to save, or destroy, this world. We must decide carefully on what we do from this point on."

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This site serves as a chronicle of sessions in an online roleplaying campaign moderated by Conrad "Lynx" Wong and May "Rowan" Wasserman. The contents of this site are (c) 2001, 2002 by Conrad Wong and May Wasserman except where stated otherwise. Despite the "children's fantasy" theme of this campaign, this site is not intended for young readership, due to mild language and violence.