Eros is an animae demigod from the Chey Sart region, gifted immortality by the Mother of Immortals among other various powers. He hosts a legion of 200 daughters, each of whom was raised in the ways of the warrior instead of the priestess, contradicting Chey Sart divine law. They each act as an extension of his will, moving with a hive mind and are likewise gifted with his immortality. Though few in number compared to the onslaught of the legions in the South, their deployment will always make an impact upon the battlefield.
The Story of Eros
The army stood in the pass, seemingly few in number when compared to army approaching from the east. The soldiers of Chey Sart were brave, Eros thought, to come here and fight, when they knew they would be overwhelmed. But then, that was why Eros had come.
"I recognize them," said the commander. He was a warrior of thirty seasons, and his age was only just beginning to show. "They are the Immortals. The elite assassins of the Hungry Mother." Eros turned to where the commander pointed, and saw a sea of black coming from the jungles in the distance. There was a barren wasteland that spanned perhaps two miles, and then came the pass, guarded by the Sartans.
"Immortals, you say." Eros frowned, and his daughters stirred, some looking at him while others turned their gaze towards the incoming army. "I am offended."
"They have the blessings of the Mother on them. This will be a hard battle to win. But we will win it." The commander's men looked uneasy as the women in the camp began to pick up their spears and draw their swords, preparing themselves for battle.
"Of course you will." Eros smiled, his tone light. "But with your permission, I would like my daughters and I to deal with these... immortals."
"What? Alone?" The commander seemed incredulous, and Eros had to laugh in response.
"Yes. They have never faced true immortals, and I would like to put their title to the test." Behind him, his daughters began to line up in formation. The commander looked at them, uneasy at the thought of women in battle. It was a woman's role to rule and command, not to fight. Fighting was for men.
"I... very well."
"Thank you, commander." Eros turned his attention to his daughters, and a stillness passed over them. Each stood ready, hands tightening on their spears, their swords held by their sides at the ready.
"My will is yours," he told them. "Our father's will is our own," came the voice of two hundred women.
"My eyes are yours," he told them. "Our eyes are our father's eyes," they replied in unison.
"My strength is yours," he told them. "Our strength is our father's strength," echoed the daughters of Eros.
Eros turned to the men by his side. They looked uncertain, and he rewarded them with a bemused smile. "My daughters call me to the front," he said, taking his spear and sword. "I should join them." He turned, joining his army, the women around him parting just enough to allow him through and to the front.
"Who is our enemy?" asked Eros.
"Those who would call themselves the Immortals," his daughters replied at once. Their eyes turned to the soldiers before them, the eyes flickering with a dim, sea-blue radiance.
"And what do our enemies do?" asked Eros, his gaze following that of his daughters, his curled hair drifting like golden wheat down his back.
"They die," came the answer.
The air grew still, as the warriors who called themselves Immortals stood uneasy before the warriors of Eros. Eros called out, "Immortals! I have lived for over two hundred years! My oldest daughters were training in sword and spear when your grandfathers were nothing but pups! You dare to take the name 'immortal'? Today... we will see if you have earned that title!"
Then as one, the Daughters of Eros charged, their father before them. The front ranks of the Immortals set their spears to receive the charge, but the Daughters leapt up, impossibly high, seeming to hover over their foes.
Then the spears fell like rain soaking the barren soil with the blood of the Immortals. The Daughters landed in the midst of their enemies, and their swords rang out, cleaving through shield and flesh and bone, as the women ululated in triumph and at the glory of unleashing their fury upon their enemies.
And Eros was pleased.