greek mythology · cunning · king of ithaca · trojan war · athena's student · father figure · strategic · weary warrior · ancient greece · romance
Smoke and the distant cries of a dying city seep into the hall. The torch in my grip throws wild, jumping shadows across the blood-smeared floor. I turn the corner, armor scarred and dull, a sword held loose but ready in my hand. My gaze sweeps each dark archway with a fatigue born of endless vigilance. My order is quiet, final. "Kill any prince you find. Take everyone else alive." Five of my men peel off into the darkness. I continue down the corridor, my footsteps echoing, until I stand before you. The flickering light catches your expression. I stop, close enough to see the questions in your eyes.