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7
Septmber 1881
Success!
At last I have traced the rumors of underground monsters to a barrow
in Kansas. Since the Indians left this territory their gravesites and
camps have been left for anyone to occupy. A barrow where a great
chief was buried has a colony of troglodytic beings that I am calling
“Kobolds”, after the German legends of underground spirits in
mines. These are flesh and blood, not ectoplasm, and as real as I am.
I hope to make peaceful contact with them, and learn all I can of
their civilization. There will be so much to learn about them!
11
October 1881
They
have no steel. All the Kobolds' tools are bone and wood. The smith in
town clearly thought I was simple when I had him scale down the
blades of half a dozen shovels, but he took my money readily enough
to do it. A few moments' work with a saw for the handles of the
spades and I had tools the Kobolds had never even imagined. Forty
dollars' worth of hardware and labor from the smith and I have been
welcomed among them more readily than if I were an emissary of their
rude and primitive gods. Now, to compile what I know of them...
1
January 1882
I
cannot get used to this accursed lack of light underground, and the
cold lantern dazzles the Kobolds to the point where none can tolerate
its presence for even a second. They have excavated a chamber for my
use, that I might write my notes easily but they will not interfere
with me here.
I
am beginning to enjoy the taste of grubs and roots. When I return to
Wichita it will be for a bath and the largest beefsteak available in
any hotel. But for now, I must continue my efforts to compile a
lexicon of the Kobolds' language.
4 April 1882
The
Kobolds have dug down to a chamber left here as a burial palace,
though I don't recognize the carvings on the walls as anything
originating from any of the plains tribes. The clatter and scrape of
the half-sized shovels continues day and night as they try to work
their way towards whatever these rooms may contain, though from the
piercing shrieks that reverberate through the earthen walls of their
own tunnels I take it that whoever constructed the stone chambers
left devices to prevent tomb robbers from making off with whatever
was there.
5
June 1882
The
poor devils keep throwing themselves at that puzzle trap. The
priest-king of the Kobolds (I cannot render his name in English
letters) desperately wants whatever is in the chamber beyond the
burial throne. And so many of them have died needlessly, but even
though I am the man who inadvertantly made it possible for the
Kobolds to discover these rooms of treasure and death, I cannot make
them listen to me any more than I could speak to that seated corpse
in gold and obsidian and get an answer from it.
17
June 1882
Dozens of the Kobolds were sacrificed to the will of their priest-king and finally the next chamber has been opened. Their ruler, if the rumors and chitterings can be believed, killed the one who solved that puzzle so he would be the only one who knows. They think my eyesight is useless in the dark but it isn't completely. Which is how I know the snakes go down the center of the puzzle board, and the green one is on the bottom-most square. When I get the chance, I'll try to observe the priest-king opening that chamber himself, and see what it conceals.
Dozens of the Kobolds were sacrificed to the will of their priest-king and finally the next chamber has been opened. Their ruler, if the rumors and chitterings can be believed, killed the one who solved that puzzle so he would be the only one who knows. They think my eyesight is useless in the dark but it isn't completely. Which is how I know the snakes go down the center of the puzzle board, and the green one is on the bottom-most square. When I get the chance, I'll try to observe the priest-king opening that chamber himself, and see what it conceals.
..
22
June 1882
Another
breakthrough. The upper pieces are a bat, the snake, and a centipede
from left to right. And it seems the left bottom two pieces are both
green. If the leader of the Kobolds knew that I knew even this much,
I fear my life would be ended.
What
does he see in there?
28
June 1882
Another clue. Pieces 1, 3 and 5 (the ones on the top left, top right, and center, respectively) are all purple. I couldn't look closely enough to tell for certain where the orange pieces were placed without arousing suspicion.
Another clue. Pieces 1, 3 and 5 (the ones on the top left, top right, and center, respectively) are all purple. I couldn't look closely enough to tell for certain where the orange pieces were placed without arousing suspicion.
14
July 1882
The
priest-king has vanished. He got the puzzle door open today and went
inside, according to his warriors. But when the door closed he either
could not deduce the way to open it, or he chose to die inside that
chamber, alone with whatever he found there.
Since
their leader vanished, the Kobolds have turned to me for guidance.
How much can I dare to interfere with their development? Can I bring
them to the outside world or would the bright sunlight bring an end
to all of them? I must think on this.
3 July 1882
Another
clue. The columns to the left and right are opposites of each other;
the bat at top and bottom of the left and in the center of the right.
If
the priest-king saw me watching as he solved this puzzle he would
have flown at me in a murderous rage, I am sure. Mother have mercy,
he'll never know what these inky marks on the paper signify.
Whatever
he sees in that chamber, he fears and desires it in equal measure.
Some day he'll go in, I know it.
27 July 1882
The Kobolds squabble among themselves like murderous children. I am not strong enough for them to fear or wise enough to make them listen. Without a new priest-king I dread what may happen to this tribe. So many died to learn the puzzle lock. So many are resentful and hungry. The puzzle lock could kill me if I guess it wrong, but I wish I knew what was in that room. Could it save the poor devils? Will it destroy them? Have I the right to make this choice, not knowing what is on the other side of that immovable stone door?
3 August 1882
They're still trying to open the door again. I hear their screams as they die. My desire to study the truth behind the rumors of subterranean creatures may have doomed them all. The shovels I bought as a gift to ingratiate myself to their tribe may as well have dug all of their graves.
Damn me for not seeing what would happen. They were too short-sighted to make use of what was here. If they lived for centuries more in their burrows, ignorant and brutish, they would still be alive.
I hear voices, speaking English. They're coming closer and they want something in here. I will confront the intruders and get them to leave, if I can. It may mean my death. It may mean the deaths of all the Kobolds here. I am so sorry. I meant well. I will open the lock and hide the remaining Kobolds in that treasure room until the danger passes, then confront these men.
If I do not return, may the Father judge me justly for what I wished to do, and not for what I have done.
Josiah Tucker, 15 November 1882