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[color=00aeef][center][i]"Good evening fair Hunter. I trust you've had a pleasant rest? I'm glad you made the journey in one piece because I'm afraid you'll have to sleep a little longer. Please don't fret...I promise the monsters under your bed won't bite."[/i][/center][/color]
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The Temple seemed to breathe on its own. Dusty, dank, and molted breath, almost like a noxious vapor used to kill pestering insects and other infestations. As decrepit as it may be, it was the closest thing Iredele had to a church. Thinking about it a little more broadly, it was perhaps the last standing place of worship in this nightmarish realm. The World of Wasted Dreams. A plane wrapped in eternal night. 

The Temple had one priest of sorts and he was speaking to those newcomers even now who awoke a second time to find their reality twisted and torn apart. The man Iredele called Rotting Bone. A clunky mess wrapped in a tattered cloak and other meshes of clothing, yet they always seemed to blend in perfect ripples with each motion of his ancient body. A cane was held in his wrinkling hand while a hood covered most of his visage from the world.

[color=ed1c24]“Welcome youngling,”[/color] he had greeted the ones that were waking up. [color=ed1c24]“So she’s brought in some new blood….ah, forgive an old man and his ramblings. Kneel and give praise to the Church of Absolute for He gives us prayers in the night. You’ve wandered into the World of Wasted Dreams and into Iredele. No, no, no, there’s no use in thinking that you’ll escape. Thinking like that gets men killed. No…no…..”[/color]

The man shuffled off, only to return with an assortment of garbs and weapons. He motioned for the group of unfortunate souls to take them freely and he chuckled at how lost they really were. The world had certainly moved on, now had it?

[color=ed1c24]“No use, no use I say! All that’s left is to hunt the monsters that pollute this town. You don’t get a choice I’m afraid. You either become a Hunter for me and search for your own answers, or you blend in and forget whatever you knew about from before. That’s not my problem. All that is my concern is your donations to the Temple. Now go on then. Run along and become good little Hunters for me…the sooner you kill the beasts, the more people will be running back to my business. Go on then. Out with you. Oh, and if you run into my granddaughter, tell her she’s wasting her time as always.”[/color]

That had been roughly one night ago, Rotting Bone residing in his Temple with solitude. Now it was the time to explore the confines of Iredele and search for answers. For a new generation of Hunters was upon the World of Wasted Dreams.

And the monsters were waiting in the shadows.