Just outside the city was where the wise woman had made her home.

From what I could tell, it was simply a little cottage. She appeared to be a humble person, someone not possessed by their worldly possessions.

She was outside, hunched over, tending to an array of plants that I assumed were herbs.

She was an elderly woman with many wrinkles that anyone could have mistaken for a grandmother. She was wearing a dirty dress and had her gray hair up in a loose bun.

I said in a gentle voice, "Excuse me," to gain her attention.

"Not another one," she swore under her breath, turning around with her hands on her hips as she awaited my bid.

"My name is Zedro Diringer. I am the head priest of the Church of Alexandra in Aloshir," I introduced myself. "are you perhaps the woman people had turned to for help in times of crisis? Miss Burell, the Wise Woman, if I may ask?"

"Yeah, so?" She asked outright.

I replied, "I came here seeking advice."

She put her hands and gardening tools down and went inside the hut, gesturing me to follow.

As soon as I walked in, I noticed the cottage's unique decor, which included several bookcases and paintings of bizarre groups of individuals with enormous eyes who all had spiked hair in a variety of vibrant colors.

She took a seat at a table that was beset by refreshments.

"So, what's the problem, chief?" She asked, stuffing her mouth full of sweets.

I took a seat next to her and said, "It's multifaceted."

"Shoot."

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I said, "It is about a medallion. About a week ago, it has become the subject of thievery."

She exuded a strong lack of interest.

"It is a church relic that was given to us hundreds of years ago, by both legend and scripture, by the Goddess Alexandra herself."

"Does it do anything?" the old woman asked.

"While none of them have dared since it fell into human hands, previous generations claim it could summon the goddess herself down onto the mortal plain. It was kept in the vaults with the tightest security the church could manage until one day it was gone without a trace. The only thing left behind were scratches on a wall adornment depicting the goddess’ face, scratches that symbolize a well known-ideogram designating it as the work of The Dark Order of Urien. A man named Aebshem is their commander."

"'The Dark Order of Urien', really?" She said, mockingly.

"The worship of the evil deity is forbidden, not just by the laws of this country but also by common sense, decency, and even the morality of man with questionable ethics, but they blatantly disregard the notion. East of here is where their alleged temple is located, although most people are afraid to approach it."

"Did you send someone to get it back?"

"Of course I did, but they still haven't come back. I'm not sure if they've had contact with the order yet, but I remain confident in their competence.” I specified, "Every single one of them has very refined skills."

"There are a few factors which would help their chances of success immensely. A five-man party would definitely be a big help. You know, leader, lancer, big guy, small guy, and chick."

"I do not believe I fully understand," I said in a confused tone.

"The five-man party is one of the most common tropes in fiction, where there is more than one main character. It's not a cliché, by any means, but it works most of the time. I don't hate it. I don't think anyone does. It's just a setup for the story like the setting is. And as we all know, the setup, or the premise, is not the story.

Anyway- Here's something else they could be: a trio, usually with the 'main' one being the strongest but also the stupidest. A darker rival to the main character, someone of supposed equal strength, but in the end, it's clear who is the stronger one, and the third one has to be a girl. She can be anything, strong, weak, smart, or stupid, have some sort of romance with either of the guys, and no one really cares about the girl. It's all about the two guys. Do the people you have sent sound something like that?"

"...I don't believe so. I did, however, send five people."

“Well, they already may be dead," she said as she got to her feet, picked up a lamp and a walking stick, and left out the door.

"Where are you headed?" I asked after her.

"I'm here to help, and I'll do just that, right?"

She was out of sight and I mumbled, "But you did not even answer my question..."