Hades had one sacred rule: silence. The basement book club was the only peaceful room in the castle. Then a Slavic god kicked the door open with muddy boots, a cursed book, and a bag of smoked sausage. Featuring: one exhausted death god who just wanted to read, one Egyptian jackal who takes bookmarks very seriously, one Slavic forest uncle who calls everyone "brother", one goddess of beauty who lost her bath through a wall, one goddess of wisdom who cannot make her father stop using his own name as a password, one thunder god who put a rubber lid on his ale and still lost, and one "mister wet pants" who denies flooding the corridor, and shrugs at everything. Nobody stays dry. Nothing stays quiet. The sausage stays.
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