Eric Shanower remakes the Iliad based on a decade or more of research into Bronze Age Achaeans and Akkadians, itself predicated on archaeological finds and photographs. This means that his 2D pen-and-ink cartoons are semi-reliable representations of the world: Troy, for example, is a modest-sized town with crenelated outer walls and an inner palace court for the reigning lords (King Priam and Queen Hecuba). The world is comprised of a loose, ever-shifting confederation of such towns with the roads between beset by looting bandits, the seas by raiding pirates, and the laws of hospitality enforced to the reasonable extent of one's oil and wine stores. You may build your empire through intermarriage alliances, charisma, and personal physical strength or be a farmer/fishmonger/craftsperson and pay regular tribute to the local keeper of the peace. Be married in your midteens, for you will likely be dead by 40.
Those who can seek out the colored version of this work will prefer it for the recreations of costume and decorative detail omitted in the original. It's only a modest difference though, inasmuch as the art style throughout seems more intent on the clarity of graphic illustration than evoking action, mood, or other artistic flourishes. The lack of shading, grading, tone, and (for the most part) dramatic camera angle appears to have been a deliberate point of emphasis for Shanower. The costumes are distinctive, but the faces and body-types are pretty much the same.
To the author's credit, he includes an afterword that explicates his narrative choices: drawing from and ironing out the inconsistencies between the oral tradition of the Iliad and Odyssey as set down by Homer, but also contemporary mythology, and its antecedents from Virgil, Shakespeare, etc. Shanower hopes here to weave an internally consistent, plausible, and natural retelling true to the time period and free of supernatural elements. In other words, Paris and Helen are bratty adolescents making impulsive, selfish decisions who whine constantly. Menelaus mopes and minces. Achilles is a vainglorious homosexual. Agamemnon is a pompous schemer. Hector and Aenaeas... are sensible, upstanding dudes. Most of the women get short shrift in the first few books (ho-hum at home, I suppose, if you're not a gassed-up oracle or priestess). Of all the characters, Odysseus comes across as having the greatest arc, but in such an epic tale with so great a cast, it should come as little surprise that each member of the cast is as two-dimensional as the art. Scenes are likewise abrupt and dialogue somewhat stilted. There's just too much to cover and too little time.
In this volume, Agamemnon struggles to keep his loose confederation of Achaean allies together. For one thing, reliance on inexperienced Achilles leads them into a disastrous attack on the wrong town. For another, bad weather and neglected harvests necessitate a multi-year hiatus. Moreover, it would appear that women must be martyrs for men to be heroes. Who said conducting an extended military campaign would be easy? (Shut up, Odysseus, no one's listening to you.)