The Door

Once in a past never known, there was a door. This door was rumored to contain a treasure prized above all others. Each rumor held it's own theory of what this treasure was, but no one had seen behind this door other than it's guardian who is to test any seekers of the treasure. The people who had met with and lost to this guardian spread the word of the door. So it came to be an honoured tradition among all adventurers to try their mettle against this guardian.

In a year unknown to us, there was a great champion named Demsal. This Champion had explored and conquered the greatest of foes and explored the deepest of ruins. He had everyone's admiration. So it was, when he heard of this door and it's treasure, he vowed to conquer it too. He left as soon was possible, taking only his tried mare, true sword, and his trusted servant. His servant, Keya, was somewhat hesitant on following.

It was a season's travel from Demsal's abode to the valley of the door. They stopped at the village closest to the valley to rest for the night and hear the stories of those who tried their luck at passing the guardian's tests. It was more than just stories they found though.

Upon arrival in the town, Demsal and his servant found that the villager's praised the guardian's wisdom and talent. They had built statues in honor of the guardian, festivals celebrating occasional visits from the guardian, even songs sung about previous people who tried the tests. Not one shred of useful information was found however. When Demsal asked them, they replied with unhelpful mysticism and ignorance.

"What tests do they give?" Demsal would ask first.

"It's different for each person." They would respond.

"How good are they in battle?" Demsal would ask then.

"Only those who've tried, may know." They would respond.

"Do you know what they even look like?" Demsal would ask final.

"What do looks matter to the doubtful?" They would respond.

Only one thing useful was found in this series of questioning. When a hotheaded fighter had tried years before, his head parted with his body after using a villager as hostage in hopes of passing the guardian. The next morning, after resting in the village's only inn, they set off into the valley. It was three days until Demsal and his servant found the way to the door. Following the path, they finally found the entrance to a cave, blocked by what must be the guardian.

The guardian stood in what was the most peculiar of armor. It covered the guardian in what looked to be boiled leather armor covered in over grown vines and tree bark. The guardian simply stood silent. Demsal, after a moment, stepped forward.

"Hail friend!"

The guardian stood silent. Another moment's pass.

"...Are you the guardian to the famed door?"

Another moment, then a nod from the head of the guardian.

"...Very well! What tests us before our passage through?" asked a relieved Demsal.

The guardian, after another pause, turned and walked into the cave. Demsal then turned to Keya in relief.

"Okay, Keya, get my-"

A booming voice erupted from the cave.

"If you wish to proceed, you must do so as you are."

After the ears of the champion and his servant stopped ringing, Demsal stepped forward into the cave. Keya, not wanting to be left alone, followed.

...

The Next Day was filled with nothing but rain. There was no usual business of tanning hides or selling wares, no people outside in this dreary weather.

No one to see Keya, walking alone in the rain.