*Ares stared down at the green fields and valleys from one of the peaks of Mount Olympus, his arms crossed over his chest as he grunted softly in displeasure. There hadn’t been any wars involving the Greek people for decades now and it frustrated him greatly. It seemed that any offerings given to him were lack luster or forced. The stupid mortals down there didn’t seem to care about him any more either, since all the myths they wrote of him involved him being humiliated rather than the many tales of his triumphs, they seemed to focus on making him a fool.*

*Ares started to pace along the peaks of the mountain before stopping once he heard the sound of the horn, signaling the meeting of the twelve olympians was about to begin. With a grumble, Ares made his way into the large building and down the glistening ivory halls, soon entering the meeting room where he sat in his respective throne.*

*Ares glanced around the room before his eyes fell onto you, a fellow god..*