Bello Deorum: Chapter 3

Camp Regime is not as follows...

Chapter 3

Denise's P.O.V

This was just what I needed. After spending two weeks on the road, looking for Ares' prized sword he won off a powerful demigod, we come back to the camp and the whole East coast in total mayhem. Fire all over the strawberry fields, all the Pegasi in the air as mounted archers from the Hunters and Apollo cabin notch arrows in the head of the army of dracaenae that poured into camp with a few unnerving giants, clearly from the south.

I went on the quest with her friends Jule and Brad. They were her trusted confidantes. Their first instincts: Observe and destroy. Sneaking around to find any open areas to join the Camp Half-Blood borders, we bumbed into a young demigod who had sparkling green eyes.

"Who are you?" Jule asked the little girl.

"My name is Hanna. I'm from the Demeter Cabin" she answered, cowering with her weapon, a dagger that was big enough to be a sword.

"Hanna. Stay low and stay out of sight. If you see us being over-run, pray as hard and as pleading as you can" I stated, drew my shield and katana.

Hanna nodded and we crept deeper around the now failing borders of camp, the golden fleece turning a dark orange color as it's magic being pressed by the advancing forces.

"Denise, what the hell is going on?" Jule asked as an explosion rang through the air, a greek fire nook landed in the wave of dracaenae. My expression looked worried.

"A war. A dirty, malicious war. And it must be big, Dionysus is not present" I answered Jule. Before Brad could speak, six dracaene warriors were walking in the flank ahead of us. I counted down from 3. 3...2...1 POUNCE. We slit and jabbed at them, leaving nothing but golden dust and a shell-like armour.

"We must help. I am a daughter of the God of Warcraft. You are the daughter of Hecate and you are the son of Aeolus. We will offer ourselves to the allies!" I shouted as we charged towards the nearest dracaenae, spearing and slicing them. The war was already bloody.

Margaret's P.O.V

The Celtic deities must have been the most relaxed and unresponsive gods know to man. They made appearances, but not often. Margaret is the daughter of Badb, the goddess of crows and warfare. Camp Día was the haven for Celtic half-bloods. And the camp leader was Áine, the Goddess of Summer, Wealth and Soverignity. She was graceful, yet determined, powerful, yet restrained. She kept herself distant at times as to not put pressure on her restrained abilities.

My day started off as usual, get up, get dressed, eat and clean some of my weapons and train for a few hours. But today was about to change my "easy going" camp mentality. I was walking through the trees , chatting with the crows, as my abilities allowed her to do this. I could sense warfare, and by the way the clouds darkened, my hierarchy of gods were not happy and were prepping for war, which the Celts rarely do. But this time, the Gods were being careless. I was walking back to camp and heard the rustling of twigs and leaves. Turning around I seen a camper. But he looked different.

"Allistar?" I called out, but his eyes seemed more... red than usual.

"You... will be a feast" he stated and crept closer.

Drawing her spear, a flurry of white appeared out of thin air, encasing Margaret in a caccoon of ghostly spirits. Magaret needed help. Fast.