Overworld.
On a small human town.
A tavern was noisy, the smell of wine and roasted meat mixing with the sound of laughter and clinking cups.
On the stage, a bard with flushed cheeks and a lute slung across his chest sang about how two brave and righteous heroes had slain the foul serpent-haired monster Medusa.
Describing it in grand detail how they crept into her lair, fought with unyielding courage, and severed her head in one stroke.
Every line was exaggerated, every word delivered with the dramatic pause of someone who truly believed he was performing a service to history.
The crowd erupted into cheers with each verse, pounding on tables and raising mugs as if they themselves had taken part in the slaying.
On the second floor balcony, three hooded figures leaned over the railing, sipping wine and watching the scene below with thinly veiled amusement.
They are Herios, Athena, and Medusa, who had joined them.
