The Vallyntyne of St Gunzel

The Vallyntyne of St. Gunzel

Pre-History

There are varying opinions as to the origin of Valentine's Day. Some experts state that it originated from St. Vallyntyne, a Roman who was martyred for refusing to give up Christianity. He died on February 14, 269 A.D., the same day that had been devoted to love lotteries. Legend also says that St. Vallyntyne left a farewell note for the jailer's daughter, who had become his friend, and signed it "From Your Vallyntyne". Other aspects of the story say that Saint Vallyntyne served as a priest at the temple during the reign of Emperor Claudius. Claudius then had Vallyntyne jailed for defying him. In 496 A.D. Pope Gelasius set aside February 14 to honour St. Vallyntyne.

Gradually, February 14 became the date for exchanging love messages and St. Vallyntyne became the patron saint of lovers. The date was marked by sending poems and simple gifts such as flowers. There was often a social gathering or a ball.

A Link to Transylvania

The ancestor of JatzCrackers (a thoroughly mad vampire called Batz-Crackers, originally from Transylvania Rail) had conspired with the ancestor of a certain Sir TheLoadedDog, a man of good heart but who had been seduced and then cursed by witch of the Wolgan (called ‘Tangara’) and entrapped within a tree (hence called “Sir TheGoadedLog”) and can now only communicate with others by ‘posting’. They dispatch fiercely erotic succubi who live in the bodies of the LB sextet by day and vengefully seek out sleeping gunzels by night, filling their imaginations with Freudian images of locomotives, valve gear, tunnels, track grinding, shunting and coupling.

Declaration of Monsignor Oldfart

The Ancient Curse of the Lost Vallyntyne of St. Gunzel is upon us!!

Dear fellow believers in Lithgovia. A dark time is upon us as the Day of Vallyntyne approaches. I fear an ancient and terrible curse has been let loose again across this land: A curse most foul and pernicious, a calamitous and pestilential occurrence that I prayed would not ever happen during my time.

But the signs are unmistakeable. The fine youth of Lithgovia increasingly confess to lurid dreams of lascivious locos, thrusting valve gear, scenes of steaming shunting and acts of capricious coupling. Even I have had overwhelming fantasms of a pink locomotive powering into tunnels!

The thoroughly humane investigation techniques of the Unholy Lithgovian Inquisition have also revealed a disturbing spike in the sale of note-books, pencils, and cameras. Droves of young Lithgovians, bedecked in anoraks and silly vests, already throng to each corridor of conveyance in the land. And, this is but the beginning. Much worse and much more terrible consequences await us if nothing is done.

The fearful Ancient Curse of the Lost Vallyntyne of St Gunzel has surely returned. According to the very few of the ‘Scribblings of St Gunzel’ that have ever been successfully decoded, a ‘Chosen One’ must arise; selected from no more than seven glorious lords, ladies or serfs of Lithgovia to rid us of the curse. Without that intervention, Lithgovia will, as surely as night follows day, become barren, lifeless and abandoned.

I have therefore this day directed the Blessed 574M to commission a quest to find the Lost Vallyntyne of St Gunzel and lift the curse which has infected our land; and that this commission to him should be thus:

- To promote the quest to the denizens of Lithgovia and, in particular, to encourage each true Lithgovian lord and subject to raise their hand in offer of participation.

- To select the noble seven, from which the Chosen One shall arise, by means of challenges that establish their skill at railing, their utmost loyalty and their deepest knowledge of all things Lithgovian.

- To allow the Chosen One to shine forth from the seven, by means of their wit and wisdom in pursuing the rules and exemplifying the purposes of the aforesaid quest.

- To grant to each of the seven questing souls one of the seven holy relics of St Gunzel; namely a unique metal token/staff; but one of which will enable the Chosen One to follow the line of the quest to its full conclusion.

- To chronicle the adventures of the selected seven, and particularly the Chosen One, in their pursuit of the quest.

For my part, during the quest I shall attempt to decipher and deliver to you relevant tracts of the ‘Scribblings of St Gunzel’ containing clues as to its purpose and process. Furthermore, previously hidden archives of the Unholy Lithgovian Inquisition shall be revealed to you, offering insight into the quest, its pursuit and its not inconsiderable hazards.

Lithgovians great and small; who of ye will partake in this quest? Who of ye will undertake the challenges to determine the Chosen One? Who of ye will rid us of this troublesome curse?

Given this day, in the 73rd page of our thread, under the Impious Seal of His Malevolence, Monsignor Oldfart.

Billboard for the Quest passed by locomotive 4404

What is the Curse of St Gunzel???

Dearly beloved believers in Lithgovia. The Curse and the Quest of Gunzel will make more sense if you learn a little of the pre-history of Lithgovia. I read now from a report of the official archives of the Unholy Lithgovian Inquisition:

Long before Lithgovia was the pleasant and only moderately despotic empire it is today; even indeed before it was called Lithgovia, it was ruled not by the ancestors of our esteemed JatzCrackers, but by his ancestor's cousin. At first a passable ruler, he was driven wild by his lust for the evil Demoness Lilith. Through her wicked magic he was transformed into the vicious vampire 'BatsCrackers' and began to feed upon the blood of our citizenry.

But the young St Gunzel was their better. He rallied the population and in their thousands they stormed their castle with flaming torches held high, chanting (in old Lithgovian) “Li'ith go via ”(which means “Lilith, go away from us”). This chant became their constant war cry and ultimately gave ‘Lithgovia ’its name.

BatzCrackers and Lilith were driven away and it seemed as if their banishment was complete. The land became happy and prosperous. But St Gunzel remained alert. He knew that they could return at any time. He carefully watched every means of transport in and out of Lithgovia. He constantly scribbled down in his notebooks every type of locomotion, every number, and every time and date. He poured over them every night, analysing them all for anything odd, anything strange, or anything new. People began to deride him, but he persisted. He knew how important his vigilance really was.

Thus was the ground laid for the Curse of the Vallyntyne of St Gunzel.
To be continued/ …

(Text courtesy of the Unholy Lithgovian Inquisition — Your beliefs are our business!)

The Curse of the Lost Vallyntyne of St Gunzel

Further reports from the Lithgovian Inquisition:

Tangara was indeed dangerous. Sir TGL was seduced through her egregious cunning. Before JatzCracker's ancestor and St Gunzel could arrive she had turned him into a tree, rooted him to one spot, then felled him with his own battleaxe. From thence forward he was remembered by the sad epitaph of “Sir TheGoadedLog”.

JatzCracker's ancestor set off to rally the villagers while St Gunzel rushed back to the centre of Lithgovia to inform and rally the towns-people against this impending menace. But he was not able to mutter a word before being confronted by the terrible spectre of Gwendolyn. Left stranded alone at the hand–fasting, and mocked by the jealous crowd jeering that St Gunzel had rushed off apparently preferring his scribbling to her company, she had wound herself into a lather of profound anger. Her formerly sweet face was now contorted with hate, her eyes bulged, the veins on her skin stood out proud, her mouth opened and with almost murderous passion she uttered:

From this day forth all who are known as ‘Gunzel’ shall be accursed! With no woman shall they ever lie. The sweetness of an embrace they will never know. The warmth of womanly love will ever elude them. Their scribblings will be their only pleasure. Types and numbers will obsess them. Derision and sneering shall follow them. All that I and all that like me can offer shall be their everlasting loss. From their sight shall I always be gone, but on their heart shall I always tear. From their hearing my voice will depart, but every wailing whistle and every blasting horn will remind them of that which ye threw off. Unto a hidden place, where tracks have been cast away go I in eternity; or until some Chosen One can bring me back.

Thus was born the Curse of the Vallyntyne of St Gunzel;
but there is still more to come/…

(Text courtesy of the Unholy Lithgovian Inquisition – Dob in a heretic today! – Dial 1 800 BETRAY)

The Curse of the Lost Vallyntyne of St Gunzel Ex-Parte Cont ...

Further reports from the Lithgovian Inquisition:

As the memory of Lilith and BatsCrackers faded with the years, a backwoodsman from the mountains to the north of Lithgovia, called Ronaldo Bitter, (or just �Uncle Ron� to his friends) became renowned for his amazing brewing talent. He produced a beer of such wondrous taste that none could resist it. Thus was born Lithgovia Bitter.

His daughter, Gwendolyn Bitter, was a rapturously beautiful creature. The fairest of skin, dark mysterious eyes, long jet black hair, ruby lips, and a smile that lit up a room like the sun rising. Her embrace was like the warmth of a fire on a cold winter's night, her touch like the caress of an angel, and her kiss like the touch of the first flowers of spring. But, her heart was only for St Gunzel. She dotted on him, sighed at the sight of him and swooned at the mere thought of him.

Gwendolyn pursued St Gunzel and, in his own way, he was enamoured of her. His scribblings became less and less. He started to think of her constantly; and when she asked if he would fasten hands with her to symbolise their love and betrothal, (as tradition bade in the middle of the final month of summer, on the Day of Vallyntyne), he readily agreed.

On the eve of the handfasting, Gwendolyn was ecstatic. All her dreams were about to be fulfilled. St Gunzel was certainly a man of some odd habits, but he had undoubted virtue, exquisite gentleness, a strong fortitude yet innocent charm. In some ways he was the finest among the otherwise gruff and rude males of Lithgovia.

But as St Gunzel prepared for the ceremony, the Lord JatzCrackers (the first) rushed in with some horrifying news. The wicked witch Tangara had been spotted. Now Tangara was suspected to be a third generation incarnation of Liliith. Sir TGL had been dispatched to block her path, hoping that Tangara could journey no closer than the Wood of Springs to the east of Lithgovia.

But Tangara was renowned to be wily and unpredictable, and Sir TGL would at best be able only to delay her. To be continued/…

(Text courtesy of the Unholy Lithgovian Inquisition - Commercial arm now trading as "Lithgovian Empire Subjugation Services"! - Want more power? Ask for L.E.S.S.)

The Curse of the Lost Vallyntyne of St Gunzel Ex-Parte Cont ...

Further reports from the Lithgovian Inquisition:

Upon hearing the curse, St Gunzel fell to the ground, stunned and struck dumb, as Gwendolyn strode off in her fury. For days he drifted on the edge of death. As the months passed he gradually recovered, but he remained a sad and broken man.

Now the curse uttered by Gwendolyn was bad enough in itself, but it was also overheard by the wicked Tangara, hovering menacingly nearby. As Gwendolyn strode out of Lithgovia in her fury, Tangara was overheard to accost her with the words; "Come my pretty one; how would you like for all that you said to really become true?" she cackled wickedly.

Somehow the curse has been deflected for all the years since. For reasons unknown, no-one has ever suffered it except St Gunzel himself. That is, until now. Only Gwendolyn�s father appeared to know why the curse did not take immediate effect, but he never confessed to the secret, even unto his death.

Alas, St Gunzel never stopped searching for Gwendolyn. Some say he discovered where she went, but sadly was prevented from ever entering there. One of his "Scribblings" provides the only clue and the only hope for the curse to be lifted. It gives the Ryddle of St Gunzel (giving her location in code), then it follows with these lines (apparently addressed to Gwendolyn herself):

Seven of Lithgovia's finest, selected by challenges true
Will set forth in manner splendid, in a quest from me to you
A wyrd signaller by wit shall guide them, by any line they know
To the place where you diverted, and still there live and grow
A magic staff shall permit him, to enter places gone
Seven such relics lie in wait, for the Chosen One to be born.

Under the Impious Seal of His Malevolence. Monsignor Oldfart, Grand Lithgovian Inquisitor and diamond level Lithway agent.)

The Quest of Gunzel ... Final Report of the Unholy Lithgovian Inquisition

Further .. .. from the Lithgovian Inquisition:

The Curse of Gunzel originated when the wicked witch Tangara caused an angry outburst of Gwendolyn, the Vallyntyne of St Gunzel, to become binding on all who are called 'gunzel'.

Under threat to harm her father; Gwendolyn was held captive by BatsCrackers, Lilith and Tangara in the Wolgan Valley. Through their magic she would stay forever young as long as she never left there. But Gwendolyn was able to contact her father who lived in the woods bordering the valley. On her instructions, he added a drop of the sap from a Wolgan gumtree to each batch of Lithgovia Bitter, making it an antidote to the curse. The curse only became effective when the gunzels of Lithgovia began to consume Coaken Cola instead of LB.

A Quest was commissioned to lift the Curse of Gunzel. The issue of false train orders kept any spies of BatsCrackers, Lilith and Tangara ignorant of the true destination of the Questers. However, Tangara became aware of what was happening when the line to the Wolgan was activated. Disguised as Senara the Mermaid, she conspired to prevent Sir Gwiwer and Sir Orange from reaching the valley. In doing so, however, she missed encountering the Chosen One.

When Sir Greenkayaker used the magic words "I am not a gunzel" to the Wyrd Signaller, he was recognised as the Chosen One. He entered the valley, using the magic relic token/staff of St Gunzel. While the signaller stayed with the train, the Chosen One set off and found Gwendolyn, still young even though centuries had passed. Gwendolyn inquired with him as to the fate of St Gunzel. The Chosen One told her that no-one knew his fate, but that he had ever remained faithful to her. She then said,

For too long has my curse been upon gunzels. While my beloved may be ever lost to me, I can repent and still show my love for him buy ensuring this curse obsesses them no more. I cannot leave this valley, for the magic that keeps me young here would disappear and I would instantly age and die. But, mark you this, tell the makers of Coaken Cola to add a drop of the sap used in Lithgovia Bitter to each batch of their concoction and the curse will be nullified in all who drink either.

The Chosen One, accompanied by Gwendolyn, then returned to where the train waited. The Wyrd Signaller was no longer wyrd, but had become transformed into the young St Gunzel once more. By living on the edge of the Wolgan he had remained just alive although of great age, and his youth was now restored by the loving repentance of Gwendolyn. He explained to the Chosen One that he had long known where Gwendolyn was, but was unable to enter the valley as, under the curse, that journey could only be driven by one who was �not a gunzel� and had proved his worth in mighty challenges.

Gwendolyn and St Gunzel shed tears of joy and embraced in a rapture befitting their centuries of waiting. Just then Lilith and BatsCrackers arrived on the scene. Realising that the Chosen One must be "not a gunzel" and that Gwendolyn and St Gunzel were re-united, they flew into a wild spin of jealousy, rage and mutual recrimination that spiralled out of control, wreaking havoc on the buildings in the valley, until each tore the other to shreds.

Hearing the commotion, Tangara arrived. She too sussed to what had happened, but she knew the Chosen One was not �nota gunzel�, for she had met the real "nota gunzel" before. She knew he was merely a valiant Quester who had been told the right things to say. As she tore out of the valley in a flurry she yelled out this final curse:

You may have won this time, so-called Chosen One, but I will have my revenge. You and your kind will be lumbered with dysfunctional rolling stock of dubious reputation, with wallowing riding qualities, and seats that are fixed, forever! Mark my words Lithgovians, one day you will suffer the curse of Tangara!

The End.