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War
Feb 18, 2009 10:37:10 GMT -8
Post by ombra on Feb 18, 2009 10:37:10 GMT -8
All the other Old Powers had their own domains to rule.
Even Vita and Mors had their people. Their places. They could have had their people and their places if they'd wanted them, anyway. What man would say no to Vita? And what man could say no to Mors, even did he want to?
Ares, alone of all, had no place to call his own. Everything he owned was taken by force. To that end, he'd was on the outskirts of Ignis, his gray-as-a-weapon eyes a-glitter and made molten by desire. He desired this place. He desired fire. And Fire. And, anyway, he had to wage war -- Ares couldn't NOT wage war. His men were not all men, but quite a few of them were human; quite a few of them were witches. A few more were shapeshifters and there was one or two vampires, thinking they were hidden among the mix, anxious for the bloodshed to begin.
Ares lounged in front of his tent, lazy as anything, and ate cold porridge from a wooden bowl, as humble as anything.
But no. Pent up power. His was growing.
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