Okay so I really wanted to write an Oc story for a while and now I've started to write stuff down. Okay so on with the requirements and rules

- I need 5 demigods
- Greeks and romans accepted
- PM ONLY!
- I'm also looking for someone to co-story this with me so if anyones interested please PM me
- no children of Artemis, Hera and if Roman Minerva

Edit-10/02/2013

I'm only accepting by PM and I am putting the form on my profile as I don't want this story to be deleted. I will be deleting those forms sent my reviews but your OC won't be discounted.

The prologue

The poet wistfully set down his stylus and sighs wistfully, if only he could write more, Instead of having to go to that cultural wasteland on the edge the empire.

The wronged man slowly collects his objects of trade a pot of ink, pieces of worn parchment and his beloved stylus. Hanging his head low he takes one last look at his cherished home and resignedly trudges out of his house.

The soldiers that are to escort him to his exile are not kind to the aged man instead they are cruel and harsh and laugh in his face. They roughly hoisted him up to the wagon and don't even wait for the banished poet to settle before they are off to the harbour.

Publius Ovidius Naso frowns as he rubs a forming bruise due to the uncomfortable journey. Looking up from his work he scowls subtlety at the oncoming Statue of Augustus, his banisher unfortunately a Legionnaire catches his foul face and hits him on the back of the head hard.

"Be respectful to your emperor, be grateful you're not dead" he brutally whispers catching the attention of his companions.

Ovid just rubs the sore part of his head and glowers "Maybe I should send him some more of my work" he says sarcastically causing the solider to roughly grab jaw and shove him against the edge of the bumpy wagon.

"How dare you speak to our emperor like that" He hisses and tightens his grip causing the poet to choke a little "I might as well throw you of this wagon and leave you to ro-" the solider is cut off by what seems to be his senior.

"Enough Mopsus" he warns and Mopsus reluctantly let's go of Ovid and shuffles back to the other side of the wagon. Ovid is about to thank the senior when he speaks with a cold smile "he's good for dead anyway, I'll be surprised if he lasts the journey"

This causes a chorus of harsh laughter and Ovid freezes, the senior was right. The journey was harsh and cold and the place he was going to was even more so, with only his work to go with him he had no idea how he will last.

Flicking through the parchment he comes across the last thing he wrote in his home, the ink was smudged due his hasty exit but it was still legible.

Five shall be led by a thread of tales
To take the cautious path is how you will prevail
The past and –

The poet carefully hides the parchment from the soldiers' eyes, he had no idea why he wrote those words but whatever creative flow that was present there had now been gone.

Ovid as looks in disdain at the ship that would take him far away from any kind face he will ever know.

Thanks for reading this far and please make them as descriptive as possible it really helps =)