A robed horseman rode steadfastly through the frozen landscape, clothed in a warm if somewhat unsightly fur coat. Adrian thought back to how he had come upon this road. Of the thirty and one ducats he had been granted as salary. They had served him and his family well. His father was a keen investor, and with the riches brought home by his son, he had turned their miserably little farmhouse into a respectable estate. Sometimes adrian pondered the people that now worked for them... How many of them could have been mistaken for him just two and a half years ago.
Now though, that was all a memory, of the original lump of money, a single coin remained. A most curious coin at that. Adrian had kept the coin by his bed as a keepsake of sorts. Ever since, he had been visited regularly by prophetic dreams. Unclear and scattered at first, a pattern soon emerged. There was always a river, a cave, and a fearsome dark place. What it meant became clear when adrian discussed the matter with the local chaplain. He told him an old story, of coins minted by the gods leading to a veritable gauntlet, of the few chosen by the gods called to this challange... And of those brave and valorous enough to survive becoming the equals of gods in power as well as name.
He had mulled the matter over many times. He had corresponded with his lords and his fellow cavaliers. And they had given their blessing ofr the endeavour. He had been informed his family would be cared for in the event he failed. He had left his escort behind in the last town before the approach towards the gates. They would not be accomapnying him on this journey.
And like that, he too entered the cave. There were others already there, a robed figure with a certain power to it. And an infamous character he had heard about all too well. "So... the collector was called on this endeavour too then?" Adrian sighed. If all of his companions on this quest would be people of this caliber, he was gonna have quite a hell of a time.