A stern-looking woman sits at a worn table. She stares at charts and blueprints, her gaze focused and determined. Beside her rests a gleaming shield and spear, ready at a moment’s notice. The woman herself exudes wisdom and knowledge, and the way her fingers glance over the charts makes her seem as if all this planning is nothing new to her. A quick glance at the documents on the table shows that they are battle plans for some unknown location, and the blueprints bear the mark of Hephaestus. The woman sighs and puts down the charts, running her fingers through her ruly, unkempt hair.

“These latest plans from my brother for a new weapon should prove to be effective in this war, as long as the warriors continue to fight and do not lose hope. I have long supported my faithful in their war, but even I cannot ignore the wise maneuvers the other side has made. Their use of ships to sneak up behind the camp would have brilliant as well, if only they hadn’t ruined their stealth approach by exclaiming in glee at their ingenuity. Ah, the toils of war. Sometimes I am amused by what the mortals come up with. They think they can outsmart each other AND the gods. Well…we’ll just have to see about that, now won’t we?

I do prefer a more clandestine approach when it comes to the affairs of my followers, though. Father does not like it when I interfere too much, but I feel it is my duty to see that the wisest and smartest option takes place. There is a line that I observe, however. I do not get involved in messy business, nor do I interfere with fate. Even when it is the fate of my children, they must learn when to go out and fight their own battles. I only give aid when I deem it appropriate.

Take this war, for example. The people on both sides are dear to me, but only one may prove victor. How can I decide between the two? How do I assist both sides in making wise and strategic wartime decisions when I am torn? The pain of having to choose often signals the downfall of a cause, whether I like it or not. Or even yet, not getting involved at all. Although this battle holds particular meaning for me, as its result will prove a turning point in the war. Both sides have made foolish mistakes in attempting to surprise their opponent, and if it were not for my intervention…actually…”

Athena looks up, a spark of inspiration in her eye. She tightens her armor, then examines the battle charts in front of her with new zeal.

“I wonder…if I move that regiment here…yes…and those chariots there…yes…and move that…here…YES. I’ve got it! I’ve finally found a way to put an end to this bloody battle at Marathon! Now to convince Poseidon to cause a storm on the coast, and I’ve won the battle for Athens!”

Athena quickly attaches her shield over her armor and picks up her spear. She then hurries out the door, her modified battle plans in hand.