The wind whistles, awakening the familiar scent of vetiver. Patches of wild, green wheat sway as the air wanders over the immaculate field that sings silent praises to freedom.

In the town, cobblestones expand to ease the traveler's excursions; some hooves tapping the stone while the wooden carriages jumps with heavy charges, showing how vivacious this place can be. Others join, rolling off the confident tongues of merchants, promising goods for a few coins. Some from the natural conversation that flows between locals. Almost everyone knows everyone.

And, the gods and Olympians, interfering in the cotidian life.