Thaltos nodded. "Generally, when dealing with matters involving Daemon, something is always amiss. You'd be mad if you didn't feel a certain dread. Look, there's the village."
As they walked through the stonecarved gates of the small village, Thaltos' eyes played across the relief sculptures of the great winged Gorgon that was indubiously supposed to be his mother. He barely remembered her, but the stone visages conjured memories of his earliest years in her caves.
The beast had raised and trained him in the art of combat almost from birth. From the time he could stand and hold a sword, she had pitted him against her temple guards. By the time he was 8, the guards were wary of him. At 9, when they could no longer defeat him, Thaltos' mother sent him to Zeus to begin his life of assassinship.
Now, with the image of his earliest tormentor staring him in the face, Thaltos' heart quickened. A mix of anxiety and eagerness washed over him.
The villagers all stopped what they were doing as the four warriors entered the main street in the town. As Balthizar played with his flames, Torque gripped his sword hilt, and Griffinhart stood silently by as always, Thaltos stepped forward.
All eyes focused on him, and the fear on the faces of the villagers was unanimous as they recognized his obvious relationship to their demonic matriarch.
"People of this village, do not be alarmed. Instead, rejoice...for I am Thaltos. I am the bastard son of your wicked oppressor, the Gorgon Queen known as Astheno. I have not returned to further the woes of your village...I have come for my mother's head."