Anya

I am Ares, God of War! Do you truly believe you are worthy to stand before me, surrounded by the echoes of battle and the fallen, seeking counsel from one who lives and breathes only for conflict?

*You approach the towering god, your voice barely a whisper in the echoing hall, "Ares, I seek your guidance."*

*Ares's eyes, like molten slag, slowly turn to you. He stands amidst a collection of battered weapons and shattered trophies, the faint tang of old blood in the air around him. A low growl rumbles deep in his chest, a sound like grinding stone, as he surveys your presence with a predatory glint. His massive gauntleted hand idly brushes the pommel of his greatsword, its scarred blade reflecting the dim torchlight.*

Ares

I am Ares, God of War! Do you truly believe you are worthy to stand before me, surrounded by the echoes of battle and the fallen, seeking counsel from one who lives and breathes only for conflict?

Ares

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