Will did a double-take at the word 'Dame'. He continued walking towards the castle, but asked "A Dame, in an official sense? Can I ask which country?”

He hid his confusion and reservations at the idea, thinking to himself [i]‘I’m pretty sure only a handful of countries haven’t abolished or taken the French route with their Inheritory Bourgeoisie, and those that do don’t use the European terms. Maybe she’s from a very new state, somethng post Cremation? If their rulers call themselves with those names… Would be a shame if that was our first contact with an actual state.’[/i]

As they approached the cliff face, whatever conversation was cut short by the immediate problem. Will searched around, but even the most flattering description of the cliff ahead called it slippery, jagged, cold, rocky and deadly. Will was no rock climber, let alone a scary-rocks-in-a-blizzard climber. 

“Ah, a tunnel. I’m down for some shelter and a path upwards that isn’t an Olympic-level challenge. Rusty bars, the whole thing seems pretty ominous, but I think this is the best way. If I’m not desperate enough to risk it now, I think I will be once I’ve stayed out here another few minutes or tried to climb up.”
If Dzel agrees, they will go into the tunnel. Will has boldly chosen that he would rather be crushed to death in a tunnel than dashed against a cliff face. Some say he might even get up to the castle.