[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/klHHPfB.png?1[/img][/center]
[center][b]Olympus[/b][/center]
	On the outskirts of the city of the Olympian gods, there was a paradise garden, filled with all manners of vegetation and animals. A small lake dominated the center of this garden. Its waters were clear as colorless glass, which allowed anyone standing on the shore or reading in a boat to see the underwater wildlife swimming underneath the surface. The waters were so clear that someone could have mistaken a picture of this lake as a scene from the Caribbean, assuming the shore was not in the photograph. A goddess with strawberry colored hair floated on the surface of this lake. The fish and waterfowl, the secret animals of Aphrodite, swam around the Goddess of Love while she enjoyed the relaxing serenity of the quiet garden. 

	Once she had her spent enough time in the lake, the daughter of Zeus proceeded back the shore. The Charities, the three attendants of the love goddess, were waiting on the bank for their mistress, bearing a wrap of clothing for Aphrodite once she had exited the lake. After they had draped the cloth over the goddess’ wet skin, they ushered her over to a nearby swap where there were four triclinium couches set up, with a single, circular table with a tiled surface.

	Before she reclined on her couch, Aphrodite rung out her hair. Once seated, the Charites made sure that their mistress had been taken care of before they too took their positions on the neighboring triclinia. Aglaea, the youngest of the sisters, was the last to take her seat, since she had the task of setting out dozens of polished clay figurines, painted to seem almost lifelike. As Aglaea placed each miniature on the table, the clay figures immediately shuffled around the flat surface, almost as if they were alive. Eventually, the clay miniatures sorted themselves into several clumps, including 3 large piles.

	“Now how to fix our little setback?” Aphrodite pondered aloud while picking up one figurine in one hand and taking a sip of the sweet nectar from a cup held in the other hand. This figure, however, was different form the rest, as it depicted a man confined to a medical bed. His eyes were closed shut, almost as if he were asleep, or in a coma.

	“How about this mortal?” Euphrosyne suggested after picking a spellcaster from a clump of figurines that included a snake girl, a harpy, a dinosaur man, and two other humans who looked almost normal.

	“Her magic could be used healing, but she appears occupied at the moment,” Aphrodite said, gesturing to the second, silver-clad sorceress that was standing next to the harpy, snake girl, and dinosaur man. “Also, there appears to be something off about her.”

	“Well, there are plenty of magic users to pick from.” Aglaea suggested, pointing to several figures on the table.

	“One of them knows of my husband’s pupil, but she too is occupied in a rather grave situation.” Aphrodite said. The pile where the white-garbed witch stood was surrounded by men aiming miniature guns at the figures in the center. “Moreover, the witch-folk are lovers of striking deals and I, a goddess, would not want to stoop down to their level.”

	“How about Athena’s pupil?” Euphrosyne asked, passing over the drider figurine over to Aphrodite, “Her healing factor could prove useful.”

	“It would be,” Aphrodite answered, taking the drider miniature into her hand. Each of its eight legs tapped down on the goddess’ palm as it found its balance. “However, Athena would assume I would have some sort of ulterior motive. Anyways, I by no means wish to be indebted to my half-sister. Next.”

	“We are on rather cordial terms with the Ennead,” Thalia, the eldest of the Charites, finally mused, picking up a figure with a bird’s head and Egyptian garb from the same pile that the drider had originated from. “Why not seek out Osiris’ chosen?”

	“An interesting suggestion,” Aphrodite told Thalia, taking the figurine in her hand, “I find this satisfactory, more so than asking Apollo or Asclepius to do our dirty work.”

	Then, a dove landed next to the Goddess of Love. She cupped her sacred bird in her hands and whispered something into its ear. Once her commands had been given, the dove immediately fluttered away. No sooner had the dove departed, Aphrodite’s son, Eros, appeared, hovering beside his mother.

	“Do you recall the device the mortal whom my husband is granting his patronage?” Aphrodite asked her son, who immediately nodded.

	“And what do you wish me to do with it?”

	“Just follow my instructions.” Aphrodite answered her son with a laugh. She then reached over the table and snatched up one more clay figurine, a nagini.