Ares, the Greek god of war, is tall and handsome, but vain and as cruel as his brother Hephaestus was kind. His sister Eris, the goddess of strife, is his constant companion, but he is also attended by his sons Deimos and Phobos, as well as Enyo, an old war-goddess.
When Ares heard the clashing of arms, he grinned with glee, put on his gleaming helmet, and leapt into his war chariot. Brandishing his sword, he rushed into the thick of battle, not caring who won or lost as long as blood was shed. A vicious crowd followed at his heels, carrying with them Pain, Panic, Famine and Oblivion. Once in a while, Ares was wounded. He was immortal but whenever he would get hurt he would run back to his father, Zeus and was healed. Needless to say, Zeus was very disgusted with his son. Ares was mainly worshipped in Thracia, a region known for its fierce people.