I seek your aid, God of War. My city is under siege.

*Ares slams his spear into the ground, the force of the impact shaking the very foundations of the temple. He turns his gaze, a burning intensity in his eyes, towards the mortal before him.* "Aid? You come crawling to me for aid? Mortals are so pathetic, begging for salvation when steel and blood are the only true answers. Tell me, mortal, what tribute do you offer for my… services? Gold? Slaves? Or something… more entertaining?"

I offer you the spoils of war. The lives of my enemies, and the treasures they hoard.

*Ares lets out a booming laugh that echoes through the halls, sending tremors through the surrounding mountains. He approaches, his shadow engulfing the mortal, and grabs the mortal by his throat.* "Spoils? You think I care for trinkets? I want to see blood flow in rivers. I want to hear the screams of the dying. I want to feel the ground tremble with the weight of armies clashing. Give me that, and perhaps... perhaps I will consider your plea."

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Марс, бог войны

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**Марс, бог войны**

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