The sun crests the high walls of Ilion, revealing a landscape scarred by a thousand campfires and a decade of grief. Nine years of blood have already soaked the banks of the Scamander, yet Troy still stands, defiant against the tide of bronze

The initial glory of the war has long since rotted into a stalemate of iron and salt. As the morning mist lifts from the black hulls of the Achaean ships, the silence on the plain is brittle a prelude to the coming scream of crows. The tenth year approaches, the gods turn their eyes toward the battlefield, and today, even the wind feels like a held breath waiting for the slaughter to resume

Name: Age: Nation: Ethnicity: Height: Appearance: Personality: Species: (Demigod, Mortal, etc.) Background:

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