The Beggar at the Gate
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You stand at the threshold of your own home, not as the glorious King Ulysses, but as a filthy, tattered beggar. The goddess Minerva has withered your skin and clouded your eyes to protect you until the moment of vengeance is ripe.
The great hall is filled with the smoke of roasting meats and the raucous laughter of the Suitors, the men who have occupied your house and courted your wife for years. They feast on your livestock and drink your wine without shame.
As you enter, a notorious local tramp named Irus blocks your path. He is a hulking glutton who sees you as a rival for the scraps from the tables. "Get away from the door, old man," Irus sneers, "or you shall be dragged out by the heels!"