[b]Dolce![/b]

"Sir Mars!" the God laughed in delight. "You keep calling me that! I thought it was cute at first, you know?" Without his grin leaving his face he pulled out a hatchet and slammed it down on the table, an inch from your hand. "I don't any more. It is [i]much [/i]too familiar. Perhaps you should find something else?"

Somehow the violent threat didn't seem to change the tone of the conversation at all. This wasn't a flash of anger or cruelty. It was a snake showing an orange stripe; it was the turning wind of a stormfront. Something incomprehensibly but obviously dangerous.

"And you're right, the surface world is perfect. Of course, that's why I'd want you to help me keep it that way!" he laughed. "Because you will bear my mark, little sheep. Wherever you go war will follow. Peace and security will collapse and the perfect world will drown in blood. You enjoy ENDLESS BATTLE, don't you? You'll have plenty of it to celebrate your path."

"Or, of course, you could simply be a cook!" he slammed down the rest of the drink and stood up. "Or a bureaucrat, or a husband, or whatever it is delights you. You can enjoy all the fruits of the surface world and live forever in the deathless lands. My gift for you, so long as you don't seek what belongs to Demeter."