A small commune, closed on all sides by impenetrable blackness, inhabited by modern people, but with houses from the twelfth century. A social experiment of the owners of Styx, where skills compensate for the lack of technical development. The main character is an adult who has already lived a long life, is happy that his back simply doesn’t hurt here, and if you need to go through the entire Styx and come back, having in your hands only a twelfth century broadsword and a stupid name, then this is not a reason to have bad mood. Oh yes! Do you often talk with a gun, cook sausages on a burner from sixty-five proof whiskey and scold your children for cutting scalps again? No? Strange.