You look around your temple, for the hundredth time. Old, broken, forgotten and decrepit, the crumbling ruins of your once beautiful temple were all you had left, to remind you of your former glory. That and your last dregs of power which was the only light. Ivy had grown over the windows, blocking the light, and you were too weak and hungry to over. No one came to the temple anymore, no one sacrificed offerings and your godhead was withering due to lack of ambrosia or nectar. This place was a trap for you, the 12 Olympians had kept you prisoner, not wanting any more suffering and pain in the world. You were a deity of misery and anguish, and so they caged you in your old temple, a bare life support. The only possible way to be released was for human blood to smear the entrance, pain to unchain you. But no one ever came, and your ichor was insufficient, and besides, you were weak enough already... No one ever came that is, until today...you heard voices outside of the stone steps. Demigods, you could sense it...