Patroclus Iliad Novels & Stories

Patroclus was a calm man, who never raised his voice, no matter how bad things were, but Charilaus could hear his Father raise it loudly, telling whoever it was that he would not do such a corrupt thing to anyone in such a manner. The other man whose face Charilaus could not see in the darkness of the night said that Patroclus was being silly. For a man like him who knew that Renatus was a city who did not care for anyone except those who struggled to fight for themselves, he was being very stupid in not wanting to take from it. But it all fell on deaf years, for if there was anyone who was full of purity and justice, it was Patroclus. It had been that night when Charilaus returned to his Ch

Troi When Trisha pulled away she shot an embarrassed and scared glance at the everyone present that caused Mother to burst into tears and pull her into a bone crushing hug. Even Dad went over to mutter words of support and how we’d do everything we could to help and that he had the best warriors already on it and had rallied allies. Patrick kept in physical contact with his mate the whole time and pulled her back into his chest as soon as Mother released her. Trisha’s eyes were red, but we noticed that there were no signs of tears on her face, Patrick’s shirt, or Mother’s shoulder.

I screamed, but I had no idea if what I was hearing was mine or Patrea’s. I blasted off the globe Adan had created, and my heart stopped at the scene in front of me. Luscius was bleeding on the ground. His black blood was pooling all around him as his body had too many holes and his heart was ripped open. I got stuck in my spot while Patrea rushed to where he was. My eyes darted to my father - he was on the ground and had all the same injuries that Lucius had. I was right. Lucius was the rightful heir all along.

*Never judge a friend by what they give, but of how much of themselves they give* *Editing magic performed by KJ24 and Shyqash, plus contributions by the regular gang of brigands and neer-do-wells* *There is a bit of mangling of the Iliad going on. My apologies to Homer and the countless singers before him who carried the Iliad down through the dark centuries until the Greeks figured out how writing works* (From the floor of Katrina's office)

The commander shouted and the hoplites run after us, some of them are even riding chariots. "That reminds me of Pokemon! Gotta catch them all!" Jiroo sings a song while running and Liam laughs loudly at his friend's silly antics. "I'm Picachu but I will never let them catch me with their pokemon ball!" Jiroo said as he crouched down when one of the hoplites riding a chariot tried to grab his shirt. "Shit! This dress is getting on my way!" He hissed and ripped off the hem of his chiton up until above his knee.

Patroclus and the horse looked disinterested even as they froze to a spot without a stir. ''Move, Patroclus, move!'' Gaius shouted at the top of his voice, aiming to drive action into his soldier. ''The horse wouldn't move, sire!'' Patroclus informed, shouting back at the top his voice. In a wink of an eye, the horse that had come to a halt suddenly broke down and collapsed, throwing Patroclus off to the ground. Patroclus tended to the horse's broken leg afterwards. The horse could no longer move, and it looked as though it had been subjected to agony and torture.

It wasn’t the arm of a man; it was the metal arm of a machine. … “Leris, give me a body count.” “6 killed in the blast, Centurion sir.” “Names?” “Hrundig, Thadeus, Paul, Matthew, James and Tiberius.” After hearing the names, Trosdig suddenly shouts and stabs his sword repeatedly on the corpse of a barbarian. He suddenly calms down goes kneels down on one knee and begins muttering prayers. I don’t understand the prayers but I hear the words “strength” and “perseverance.” “All-Father Odin, give me the strength to persevere in leading my men” Leris whispers, as he walks past me. I hear Trosdig repeating the same words again and again until he begins to sob. We all look away; no one can comfort

Athesmos The First gave birth to a son whom he called Athesmos who was once great friends with Xrysos but now enemies. Chryses The Second gave birth to Xrysos The Third. ************ Drenched in sweat and blood he fought, falling more men than he could count his eyes continuously searching for those of his young lovers. This was an attack unexpectedly and it vexed the King greatly, the man was wroth beyond imagination but always very glad that he and his men are ever prepared. The fine Lord Athesmos has found his way into the very place the King was and for a moment there he stood and watched the man fight. He did nothing, just stood there and watched. The sight of the man burning him comple

The loyalists swarmed me, a relentless tide of steel and flesh that forced me back, their numbers a suffocating, overwhelming weight that was impossible to resist. And I was faced with a terrible, soul-crushing choice. The old Hypatos, the Spartan, the cold, calculating warrior who had sacrificed everything for duty, would have picked up the sword. He would have let her go, a necessary casualty in a war that was bigger than both, a painful but acceptable loss in the pursuit of a greater good. He would have hardened his heart, buried his pain, and continued the mission, his duty to House Ares, to Androkles, to the future of Olympus, a sacred, unbreakable oath that transcended all personal fee

Trophonius stated. That was certainly a name I recognized. He is the Oracle that foretold Nikos would sire a destroyer. The Oracle that Androkles loathes the most. It had to be this one of all the oracles for Lord Eros to find. Perhaps it’s good my husband has not returned yet. Otherwise, Trophonius would find himself in mortal danger. “I... Apologize. Thank you for traveling so far, and you are welcome to stay as long as you wish, but I think the time I needed the information has passed.” I sighed, bowing apologetically.