Stories of the Untold Part 1

Story 5 Part 1(Unfinished): The Gauntlet of Blood

(This stories idea is from a Role-Play I once played so all credit goes to Sam Ursu.I'm going to make a official story about this on my wall if you want to read it.)

Gathering your cloak as tightly as possible around you, you continue to trudge down the gravely path that winds its way through the forest.
Above you, nice and bright, is a full moon, lighting your way forward through this eerie, abandoned landscape.
You have not seen any signs of human inhabitation all day, only the twisted, rusted out hulks left over from the Last War.
This entire region feels entirely forsaken.
No birds fly, and only the wind whistling through the endless pine forest keeps you company.
But trudge on you must because you must make it to the Cleric and Tiger before midnight tonight!
Just then, you hear a bloodcurdling howl just a few paces away.
What was that?
Frankly, it sounded like a carrier wolf.
And where there is one carrier wolf, there is bound to be a pack of carrier wolves.
Maybe that wolf was just howling to announce its presence.
If so, the wolves probably are not interested in attacking you.
On the other hand, this is a forsaken land with little prey.
Just how hungry and desperate are those wolves?
You continue walking along.
Hoping for the best, you resume your trek towards the Cleric and Tiger inn.
Although the moon above tells you that not much time has passed, it feels like you have been walking through this forest for hours.
Your whole life, you have heard tales about the Kingdom of Bornghom and how it survived the Last War to become an oasis of light.
The bearded ones in your village used to say that no one in Bornghom ever goes hungry. Or gets cold. Or gets sick.
They also used to say that fruits are ripe for the picking all year, and that fattened animals graze on rich meadows.
Your own father used to tell you that that Prince Savanat has been ruling over the Kingdom of Bornghom for more than one hundred years, which seems rather improbable.
He also said that Prince Savanat's father won the Last War after making a pact with a powerful witch who used her sorcery to forever disable the tech of the Old Ones.
All of those old legends cannot all be true, of course, but every myth is based on a kernel of truth.
And you cannot wait to discover what Bornghom is really like.
Because one day a year, Prince Savanat opens up the gates of Bornghom to a lucky few outsiders.
Which is exactly why you need to make it to the inn before midnight!
A few moments later, the path widens up and you can see a clearing up ahead.
As you get closer, you can see, off in the distance, the unmistakable sight of an inn up ahead.
Yes!
Never before in your life has lantern light spilling through the windows of a building looked so appealing.
Despite your weariness, you feel a spring return to your step.
And it is only a few moments later that you make your way up to the front door of the inn.
Above the door, creaking ominously in the wind, is a wooden sign engraved with an alarmingly realistic engraving of a large tiger feasting on a monk with a look of pure horror etched onto his face.
Something about the naked savagery of the image sends a shiver down your spine.
Your heart beating valiantly in your chest, you swing open the heavy wooden door of the inn and step inside.
A blast of heat and noise washes over you as you stop mid-stride in the entrance, momentarily overwhelmed at the contrast between the lonely forest outside and the crowded hubbub inside the inn.
Low-ceiling and buttressed with heavy oaken beams, the Cleric and Tiger is far larger than it had looked from the outside.
Everywhere, people are clustered around rough-hewn wooden tables, noisily talking and drinking from large pewter mugs.
To the north side of the inn is a huge, roaring fireplace, the crackling wood sending out a delicious warmth.
After all these long weeks of traveling, you cannot believe that you have finally arrived at the place where you will meet your destiny!
Off to the south side of the inn is the bar, helmed by a tall, ugly man with a squinty, round face and a large, sloping gut.
The bartender is busy regaling a group of three men dressed in ragged, gray cloaks with a bawdy tale when he catches you looking over at him.
"Greetings, traveler! Are you here to register for the Gauntlet?" calls out the bartender to you.
Nodding, you regretfully step away from the beckoning warmth of the fire and over closer to the bartender.
The bartender is smiling at you, but there is a suspicious gleam in his eye that you do not trust.