Mono walked through the field, Agro beside her. She had awaited this day for so long... Now... running towards her with his blue tunic over his canvas shirt and pants, Wander ran towards her. She had lived and died for this moment. Waited so long. She ran to him as well laughing as shimmering tears fell upon her wedding dress; the one she had awoke back from the dead in. As they collided Wander picked her up and twirled her around in the air... and kissed her.... Agro reared up, glad to see her master once more. Wander murmured into Monos ear, sweet words she had missed so long...
"Mono..."

Her eyes opened.

She was laying on the Shrine.. that Wander had sacrificed his life for. She hadn't meant to fall asleep. Now.. ah... her cheeks were wet. She sat up, wiping the tears from her eyes and curled her legs into her body. It was cold. The infant beside her, too, was shivering. She wrapped him in the folds of her dress before moving up to the garden. Within, Agro and the man who called himself Dormin were waiting. She couldn't hold back her spite.
"How much longer?" She asked, her dark eyes stony with impatience and anger. Dormin looked up at her, his shadowy form raising its eyebrows in mild surprise.
"They will arrive today." His whispy voice reached her ears like a breeze. Faint... and yet strong. "Have patience."
Mono grimaced and looked off to the side of the garden, clutching the baby Wander close to her chest. Please, she begged silently, please come.

---

Riin stood atop her horse, Nittyo, gazing across the valley at a large temple only fit.... to well, accomodate a god. She got off Nittyo, patting him on the side as she crouched down to examine the chasm below. Ah, so thats where the bridge to the temple went. The pieces had fallen, no longer connecting to the temple but made a slope to the ground below.
"This legend better be fucking true."
She hopped back onto Nittyo, kicking him hard and pushing him down into the valley, making him run to the temple. She had no idea what was in store.

Zaccar exited the forest that he had been wandering through, spying his destination off in the distance. He rode a horse though he had merely gotten it a short time back to traverse the distance he needed to reach the place he was looking for. He named it Tupaka but whether or not he would ever be attached to it, it was hard to say, he had never really had any attachments, at least none he could remember so the horse itself was expendable to him, merely a tool that he needed to aid in his travel. After he reached the destination, then he would decide what he would do with the horse, if he would still need it or merely let it go.
He hoped what was said about the temple was true, that his wish and desire could be granted. He wanted it to be true but it sounded so far fetched that he was unsure about it. He was willing to give it a shot though, an attempt to see if it was true in hope, a word he had not used in a long time or even felt such an emotion.
He reached the edge of a cliff, the bridge that connected the temple to the cliff he stood upon appeared to of collapsed yet it also seemed to of made a means of getting down to the valley below, he took noticed that someone else appeared to be traversing to the temple as well, judging by the dust that he saw in the valley below.
"Let's go," Zaccar said to Tupaka giving the horse a kick and down they went the side of the collapsed bridge, unsure what to expect from the temple itself and this other person who seemed to be heading in the same direction.

“1…2…3…Drink!”

Roars of inebriated men and woman alike exclaimed with flushed faces in the dimly lit space, clear signs of potent alcohol rushing through their system. These commoners surrounded a rounded wooden table damp with sticky liquor, two people hunched over the surface staring fiercely at one another locked in a crucial bet. A massively burly man held up a moistened mug to his lips covered over by a bristly onyx mustache, and began pouring the beverage into his vast mouth in haste. Surprisingly the other patron was a petite fire haired woman who held the same sized flagon in hand. A smug smirk crossing light peach tinted lips before she downed the ale in a matter of seconds before her massive counterpart. Abruptly standing to slam down the cup in self-satisfaction receiving enormous praise though they would forget her name soon enough. These little gambles Red took every so often did not add up fast enough or were not worthy enough to remember--it was all truly pathetic in hindsight.

The defeated lad slouched down in the seat hanging his head low before offering a gruff shake of hands to the victor. The woman in black slid the collection of meager winnings into a tiny hide pouch before stopping over to the bar keep. Stealthily her fingers flung over a coin into an empty cup near the man. Of course, she did not truly win without a bit of help. There were errands that needed to be seen to, especially today. Intoxication would pose trouble when riding a horse no doubt, not to mention possible motion sickness over rough terrain. Most of her refills had been highly watered down brew in thanks to the man behind the counter, and she paid her due before bustling out of the pub.

Beside the establishment tied to a hitching post a horse nibbled on a patch of grass. After unknotting the rope she placed a boot into the stirrup to fling herself over with ease before flicking the reins and adding a slight command with her voice. This horse had a name unknown to her since it had been “borrowed” in the previous town. She had meant to think of one on the way but the magnificent midnight steed took direction without one just fine. Their destination not far from this location and within view once bypassing the modest hamlet buried within semi-cleared thickets. Hooves propelled toward the horizon galloping against the land toward some sort of shrine in the distance. With luck her future would change today...

The rhythmic clopping of Able's grey and brown mare accentuated the tribal tunes he hummed as he traveled slowly onward. She was taken good care of for as much traveling as she has had to put up with. This thought in mind, Able gave her proud and gentle strokes down her neck. His gloved hand felt the dull shudder of her pelt moving steadily with her natural percussion against the earth. The other hand gripped reigns that lead from his wrist to an ornate saddle, proportionately more expensive compared to the horse. It bore a large gold skull with a flaming sun and crescent moon in the eye sockets on a large circlet at each side of her, the dreaded symbol of the Riddle Valley Bandits. The horse was more unique than it's rider appeared to be, being a man seeming of a small stature in the loose clothes that shrouded his entire person. The thankfully thin material kept him comfortable to the foreign lands heat and sun that radiated off of a sea of burnished gold sand. His wide-brimmed hat shielded everything of the sky except for the horizon, Where the top of the temple he was moving toward escaped to. His focused attention to it, as well as his favorite song of home, was broken by the surprise of distant silhouettes ahead of him. One must have used the same pillared bridge to achieve the practically linear path in his sight. Gleams of shimmering heat and metallic light distorted the blackened figure.

Strange, but no surprise, He scorned himself for the late thought. After coming from so far away and not expecting to be the last in line...

Able buckled the flaps holding the rogue signets into the actual saddle itself. Then, with energetic words and the heels of his tall boots, he took to the temple with the vigor of the company encroaching his intermediate destiny.

Riin reached the temple after a long run, unawares to the people that were following her. Outside the front of it, She dismounted Nittyo, leaving him to handle himself in the long fields. She trusted him to come when she called. She made her way up the steps, looking around. The room was absolutely full of rubble. From a glance around, she could sense this place was once... holy.
Not that she was exceptionally religious, but the presence of the altar made it obvious that this was some sort of Shrine. She took a deep breath in, sighing. She had travelled a long way. Perhaps now would be a good time to rest. Then she heard it, the presence of approaching footsteps... hoofbeats, more like. Someone had followed her into the forbidden lands? She drew her broadsword, angry, and turned to face her pursuers.

Zaccar pulled on the reigns of his horse, stopping him before jumping off, not bothering to grab his weapon, he doubted this person in front of him would be here unless for the same reasons he was, something called him here and he assumed the same was for her, after all why else would someone be in this place called the Forbidden Lands?
"There is no need to fight when we are perhaps here for the same reasons," he said as he stopped a few feet in front of her, out of reach of her sword length but judging and to allow him to grab his own sword if he truly had to do so. He looked up at the temple, somewhat in awe by it.
"Some voice pulled you here as well, a promise of a wish to be granted by one called Dormin," he continued. He saw little need to keep his intentions for being here secret, it was unnecessary to him. Only secret he had would be the wish he wanted to be granted from this Dormin, the thing he desired most.

Red reached the decimated bridge without noticing fellow travelers, the gorgeous steed’s silver horseshoes clopping over the bits and pieces which seemed to echo oddly enough. Another horse could be seen grazing about the valley freely though she dare not untie this newly acquired animal in fear of it sprinting away. With nimble movements she slid off the saddle with reins in hand to tie the long rope around a slim birch. A neigh escaped “midnight’s” throat and she glided a gloved hand over the base of its neck, not out of compassion but to calm the noises down. She was no longer alone, or had she ever been? Were more to come she silently asked? Fingers danced over visible throwing daggers attached to black fitted pants, one could never be too careful when exploring new places.

With much stealth Red silently crept up each fractured step to the voice speaking until two strangers were in view. A smile formed after witnessing the armored dame extend a broadsword toward the others direction. Already this trip appeared to be quite interesting and she could not have asked for better company from these hostile events unfolding. Clearly the man meant no harm and all appeared to be well as he extended an olive branch of peace—so the saying goes. Red took this opportunity to step from behind a ruined pillar to confront the duo with a greeting in her own unorthodox way.

“This man bothering you miss?” Red inquired sarcastically with an arrogant smirk and a raised brow.

“I did not know this was a social gathering for I brought no gifts for the host.” A sigh could be heard while folding arms across her chest, intense emerald hues scanning over the scared temple quickly. Although this spiritual place stood far from pristine one could almost still feel a purity lingering through the damaged architecture. Its revered presence enough to halt nearly anyone in their tracks to take in a breath of air, and gawk over each remaining column in wonder.

The metallic resonance of Able's staff was simultaneous to his feet hitting the broken stone at the base the temple. The completion of his fancy walking stick hid in a sheath against his back, all but the handle covered by a large brown leather backpack. The he pet his ride's muzzle and spoke in a tongue that commanded her wait there, which she obliged and lay to rest. Out of one of her saddlebags, he pulled a wineskin attached to a bowl and set out water for her. He took long strides skipping steps with restless, travel-weary legs up to the top, only to halt at their climax and extend open, peaceful gloved hands. His staff fell and rested on his shoulder with habitual comfort.

"Eeso vahnee kunai es, gutallah" - "Salutations, strangers. Please, share this peaceful welcome."

His more eastern accent was diminished through much exposure to the world, but he held a deep voice that spoke fluently in the languages he had picked up in his travels. He wouldn't dare speak his own. Judging by these peoples' appearance, with skin much lighter than his own and their warrior appearance he spoke what he knew of the western cultures.

Next, He removed the thin veil of scarf covering his mouth and nose, letting it fall back over the shoulder of his long coat and exposing his face, the only part of him not marred with the dark ink-scars of his past. A leather cord gently looped his neck and kept his hat close as he removed that as well, exposing black hair in many small braids in a short ponytail.

Her blade had remained drawn to the man, and had been ready to retort to him when a woman, much more slender than her own stocky build and pretty at that, came up speaking words of sarcasm and asking if she was being troubled. And now... a foreigner, unarmored and seemingly unabided by the conversation inside. She was getting angry now and pointed her blade at all three of them.
"Begone, all of you. If there is a wish to be granted here, it's of my own. I swear to GOD I will kill every one of you if I have to." Her eyes blazed with a fire only matched by someone who has done and seen things unspeakable. She couldn't help but be more bitter towards the woman there; and a small insecurity formed within her, her eyes narrowing at them all. "I warn you," She spat, gripping her sword tightly and getting into a fighting stance. "My words are not empty."

Zaccar grabbed his own sword but did not wield it towards the woman, not yet, there was still a chance to calm the situation with words."If we are all here for the same reason then this Dormin must be able to grant more then one wish, why else would we all be here, and only us at that? If it was only one wish would not everyone come and try to make claim. No there is a reason why all of us are here, drop your weapon and we can see this Dormin together or a fight it must be and I am one to not die easily after the battles and lands I've traversed."
He had no love of fighting, the things he had seen and done at times sickened him but when it came to a matter of life and death, he would fight no matter how much he might of hated it and he would kill to survive. Why this woman was being so stubborn and angered he did not know but he wasn't leaving until seeing this Dormin himself to gain what he had lost for so long. He got into a fighting stance as well to be ready if a fight was the only way to get past this woman and see Dormin.

Able stepped away from the ledge of the steep stairs and lay his metal staff at his feet. His leather-clad palms were face up and empty, his back was now to a wall. That was the best place to be in a battle against more than one opponent, he assumed, leaving him with no blind spot. The others just walked with walls attached to them, heavy equipment indeed. He was wary of the escalating situation, and provoked by the words of the only other man in their tense situation. Able's words were not going to be headed as anything more than a friendly first impression. That chance seemed too have past them. Now all that was left was a hostile, a defensive, a smart-mouth, and himself. Now where is what he is actually looking for?

"I am not sure the achievement in a wish will be by thinning the numbers here, quite possibly further ahead. Where this Dormin is, it may be."

He was almost eager to sidestep them all and make his way ahead. With no hindrance of armor he could escape, but where or who to? The next enemy could be someone like this women, fending off all others from the chance of a wish granted. Then there was the notion of getting through these other three ahead of him with nothing more than a pleasant smile. Able continued to try and achieve momentary cooperation, and kept his eyes on the females, the only two who hadn't attempted to reduce hostility.

"Let us seek our fortunes ahead, and find reason to fight with them. Hopefully, this Dormin is patient."

Red grinned wide in amusement before snickering at the two standing tensely before her. The one male trying in vain to talk this ill-tempered woman down and Red knew from the start that such words would not sate that one. Even though ire radiated from that abrasive woman so easily, there were always painful reasons behind such behavior. The red thief took this possibility into account but whether the woman actually dwelled in torment or not would not sway Red’s demeanor so easily. Her threatening words to smite them all were brazenly droll and if she did manage to follow through with success, well, that would be especially worthy of respect.

“Admirable try white knight but I think your words fell on deaf ears--and yours too.” She said to both men while casting glances between them. “For pity’s sake, you would deny this woman the fight she seeks? Where is your chivalry?” Words were said with that signature smirk of hers.

Crouching a bit low in a defensive stance fingers gripped edges of two throwing daggers, with a brisk motion two blades were thrown toward the neck of the woman with raven hair. These were not meant as killing blows in the slightest but simply a warning that further aggression would be met with confrontation, if that is what she truly wanted. While Red threw those daggers a free hand reached behind to clasp Ad Mortem twin brother’s handle and free it of its sheath. Inside a ancient tomb there had been two semi-identical short shorts resting beside the dark knight’s side, and she took them both. The true Ad Mortem had never been used since after her family’s infliction perhaps out of respect. Without hesitation she readied for any incoming attack, wondering all the while when this woman would come to her senses.

Riin had seen the attack out of the corner of her eye and moved her armored arm up in enough time to deflect the knives. Angry, she threw her broadsword into the air, and while it was falling, ran to the skinny woman with red hair, moving to kick her in the gut and push her back down the stairs. If she had or hadn't been successful, she would have caught her sword in hand and slashed at the more heavilly armored knight beside her, pushing him backward and against the less armored male huddled against the wall behind him.

>Wait for what Leviathan says happens before anyone responds to this<

The land to Red’s gut was successful like she wanted though the woman had more strength than previously anticipated. The agile thief caught herself mid-fall and flipped backward landing on one of the steps in a crouching position with short sword in hand. Vibrant emerald hues glinted in pure glee while watching this woman catch the broadsword and slash at the white knight. Red mouthed the word ‘excellent’ to no one in particular as she anxiously waited for the other’s reactions to draw attention away. For she was highly efficient in back-stabs but this setting was not ideal because a swindler in the open did not have the same result as one in the dark. An opportune moment to sneak away for an element of surprise would be difficult here but not exactly impossible. Without further ado her body remained low to creep behind a downed pillar when the woman was occupied, in time Red would be able to launch. Patience...

Zaccar blocked with his sword, the sound of metal on metal piercing the air, He then moved back by jumping back towards the other man behind him. This was foolish, neither of them were going to get to ever meet this Dormin if this mad woman had her way. They all would probably be dead by then. He grabbed his shield on his back as well, sword at the ready for another attack. If a fight she wanted then a fight she would have if she struck at him again. He did not care about the other two, as long as they weren't as mad as this woman was who challenged all of them. All he desired was to see this Dormin and have his wish.

He did not dare fight yet, not yet, after all this fight was started by the other woman and this mad one, he wanted no part in it but he did swing a warning at the armored woman to put ground between him and her, he had the vantage of at least having a longer blade to keep her at bay for the time unless she wanted to fight him then he would show his fighting prowess.

Able made the swift turn he had braced for at the first flash of moving metal, his staff spun fast with two hands whirling it at the center. Feeling the large knights heavy presence only inches at his back, he had spun like he was playing a sport of his childhood. It put him in front instead of behind. He swung an end of Mythrend's shaft at the dark-haired women's hilt upward, hopefully breaking the grip that could've been shaken by the knight's block. Without a second in between his hands had seized the other end and he extended it far from them, releasing it pointed at the space between the rogue's retreating knees. She seems graceful, but he aimed to hinder her motion like spokes on a wheel. She was too cunning, too much like him, more of a threat than the danger of the crossfire he put himself in. As his one hand relinquished his staff his other unsheathed it's counterpart, and he held it arched above him with it's broad edge and began to charge the woman once more, low. Able had no intention of swinging the only thing preventing a steel rain on top of him. Just keeping her defensive or on the stone.

At that moment, while the four began to fight one another, a great, ominous voice shook the entire temple.

"ENOUGH!"

The Temple shook so violently, that midswing Riin lost her footing and fell into the heavy-clad knight she had swung her broadsword at. Spitting curses beneath her breath, Riin picked herself up and barely held back from kicking the arse she fell on top of's ribcage. There, walking toward them was a man made entirely of shadows... and behind him, a woman, holding a swaddled babe in her arms. She was dressed in a blue tunic, and beneath that pants and a shirt made of canvas. Her dark hair was pulled into a pony tail with hair hanging around her face to frame it, and a blue headband on top... on her her hip was a blade, sheathed and the handle looking readily polished. Another warrior who had gotten there before them?

The Shadowy figure stopped in the center of the temple. After a moment of silence, it spoke.

"I Am... Dormin." He said to them. "I Am He Who Called... I Am He Who Will Grant Your Wish."

"Dormin!" Riin called, her hand clenched into a fist. "I demand you grant my wish now; as I was the first of the warriors to arrive to the temple!"

Able was knelt after his dexterity all but got him wedged between to piles of clumsy armor, he returned his blade to hiding and shot the dark haired women a heated look. He stood and went to retrieve his staff, eyes never leaving the shadow-man's form. It took him a moment to calm himself down, he wanted to put this woman in her place for demanding a man granting an impossible favor, and so childishly at that. He made sure to find the red-haired dame as well. There was no way he was letting a spider like her creep around. With a sidelong glance toward the vehement female, and the smallest crack of a mischievous smile, he sounded off politely,

"We are they who have answered your call, we come for the wish you speak of."

When the woman fell on him from the booming voice that shook the ground, Zaccar had half a mid to shove her off but let her get up by her own means rather then be disrespectful. He sheathed his sword and placed the shield on his back once more looking up at Dormin and the woman who stood behind him holding a child. So it would seem they were not the first to be there as they had thought. He did not pay to much attention to the woman behind Dormin though, seeing that Dormin was a shadow, not a person gave him a bad feeling. Perhaps it was merely a feeling but he soon felt like he should be careful in trusting what Dormin said.
Then of course the mad woman made her demand known, trying to lay claim to the wishes that Dormin supposedly granted. Would it really be that easy, to simply ask for a wish? Zaccar had debated that since he began traveling to here. If it was so simple as asking then why not more people, surely everyone had a wish that they wanted granted so why not more then just four warriors?
"I doubt it's that simple," Zaccar answered from behind the mad woman ",I'd rather ask what does he or it want in return for giving us our wishes? What it would want us to do to lay claim to our hearts desire?"

Emerald eyes shot wide at the man who instead aimed at the thief who had not threated their lives; in turn he dare hinder her stealthy progression toward that raven haired woman raging with animosity. Honestly she had not seen that coming and was slightly taken aback since she meant no ill will toward him. Within seconds a surprised expression vanished and was replaced by a smug smirk, for he had not fallen for her trick even though he was not the original target—well, that ship had sailed. All her attention now lay with this unpredictable man yielding a staff. A mere thought entered her mind at how this situation had suddenly played out, and she found it interesting.

“Such a killjoy.” Red said with a pout before straightening herself upward calmly and readying her hungry short sword for impact.

She waited casually for his impending strike and planned to parry only to flip away with finesse once everything fell into place. Unfortunately the fun was once again halted as an unfamiliar voice resounded, quavering the fragmented floor, and echoing through collapsed walls. Before metal clashed to become acquaintances Red peered to this shaded figure, and also to the mysterious woman in azure garb clutching an infant. This obscure structure spoke confirming his position to grant wishes, and she felt justified that immediately her life would not be the same afterward—none of theirs would in fact.

Placing sword back in its holster gradually Red made way toward the outskirts of the group and leaned against a remaining colonnade with arms folded across her chest. This is not what she expected to find when searching for her wish, and she certainly thought her travels would be alone. How would Dormin go about these wishes now that four claimed them, and worse yet what would be the price they paid to witness such miracles? These thoughts were bubbling to the surface now that this—thing stood before them in a spectral state…it was suspicious at best. After the polite man had spoken Red ever so slightly cleared her throat before adding her two cents, he was just too cordial and she was not buying that charade.

“Sycophant.” She uttered teasingly under breath but still intentionally loud enough for him to hear. Red then replied to the other warriors question about doubting the simplicity of gaining a wish because she completely agreed.

“White knight has a point however. What does it want in return?”