The way home is longer than the war
Ten years at Troy end in the belly of a wooden horse. Thirty men in the dark, one lamp, a city hauling you through its own gate. Then the drop into the streets, and the worst fight of the night at the house of Deiphobus. By dawn Troy is burning and the war is over. Twelve ships, six hundred men, and the sea between you and Ithaca.
Book One follows the first four landfalls, as Homer tells them. At Ismaros the men sack a city and stay too long for the wine, and the Cicones come back at dawn with horns. On the Lotus Shore three scouts eat the flower and forget they ever had a home. In the Cyclops' cave a giant eats your men two at a time, and the only way out is a sharpened stake, a jar of wine, and a name that is not a name.
You play Odysseus. Not a superhero: a captain who counts his men every night, and loses some. The ones you lose stay lost. The game keeps their names in the Roll so you remember them too.