It was in some way a tradition to go down to the Chamber of the Ordeal at least once and for lack of anything better to do, Wart had decided to come visit. The hallway was cool. A chill breeze rippled through the passageway.

His shadow stretched long and leggy behind him distorted in the light of the lantern he carried. He set it down on the bench outside the door and sat down next to it, staring at The Door.

A shiver ran up his spine, more of a thrill than anything else. He stayed rooted to the bench for whatever reason although, he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. It was just a door. He’d seen a billion doors before and none of them were very interesting and it wasn’t like this one way really either.

But that door held the balance of his life in it’s maw and he’d be stepping through it in a few months.

"Sir Stalwart," he tested, his voice echoed eerily. "If that does not sound like the most egotistical thing ever. Gods, I loathe my name."