Sacking 40

'Our enemies are Medes and Persians, men who for centuries have lived soft and luxurious lives; we of Macedon for generations past have been trained in the hard school of danger and war.' - Alexander the Great

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-Ionia, Ephesus, 464 BC-

(PS: I listened to Globus - Preliator while writing this XD)

Smoke billowed into the sky, and screams and shouts pierced the once-tranquil city of Ephesus. The marble palaces crumbled, the formidable walls collapsed, and the city streets were drowned in blood.

Overhead, sporadic projectiles engulfed in flames slammed into the city streets, massacring people in their droves.

"Agh! Run for your lives!"

"The Greeks have broken through!"

Greek hoplites had overrun various strategic chokepoints held by the Persian defenders, resulting in wails of dismay by the city folk of Ephesus, certain that what awaited them was a fate worse than death.

Blood-stained and battle-worn, masses of Greeks and Persians collided with one another in the narrow winding city streets of Ephesus unleashing furious symphonies of war cries.

"Brace for impact men!"

"Ahuramazda is with us!"

"Charge! Zeus will smite these barbarians!"

At one of the various chokepoints, was a familiar duo who had previously been quarreling on the coastline outside of the city and were now shoulder to shoulder, fighting to hold the city that they had grown up in and held the people they cherished.

Both knew that should the Greek hordes break through their bottleneck, then the entire city would be razed to the ground as was common in wars between the Greeks and Persians.

Thrusting his spear forward, in between the armors of an unsuspecting greek hoplite, one of the pair of guardsmen succeeded in nabbing his first kill. Distracted in his glee of finally being able to have an accomplishment to his name, he failed to notice the spear flying directly toward his head.

Without even being aware of his untimely demise, the young man - no older than 18 - was skewered through the eye and summarily trampled by the advancing phalanx of greek hoplites. His comrade, who had once boasted loudly of joining the ranks of the fabled Immortals, could only watch in dismay as his friend was trampled beneath the tide of men.

Lost in a fitful fury, the youth charged forward screaming a war cry. His eyes closed and limbs taught, he didn't last a second before being pin-cushioned by a dozen greek spears.

Scenes like these played throughout the burning city. Scenes of inexperienced boys donned in armor being overrun by a more experienced and well-trained foe.

Hours passed... And with time, so did the intensity of catapult projectiles and archer fire, as there was no point in wasting any more ammunition on a city that was already barren of life.

As the sounds of battle died down, Greeks began patrolling the hills of Persian dead, skewering any moaning survivor they could find, as they were under strict orders to not leave a single survivor.

At the gaping city gates, once grand works of art, now smoldering on the ground, a flamboyant man entered the ruined city astride a white horse. With plumes of ash raining from the billowing black cloud of ash above, he seemed to be an angel entering the depths of hell, donned in shining plate armor in the shape of a man's torso, and a cape billowing behind him.

The man rested his plumed Corinthian helmet on his arm as he casually surveyed the destruction around him.

"My Lord Pericles, I have received reports of fleeing Persians who managed to sneak out of the city before its encirclement." Reported a fellow cavalryman riding beside Pericles. This man was also donned in shining armor and had his corinthian helmet resting on his head, with the bottom of the helmet just above his brows.

The general pondered on his adjutant's words for a brief moment. Before long, Pericles spoke, "Ignore them...they have nowhere to run. Soon the rest of Ionia will fall, then, we move to Sardis."

Hearing his commander's decision, the adjutant nodded his head and sent word to their armies cavalry to ignore the fleeing contingent of troops.

Pericles, wiping some of the ash and soot from his shoulder armor, thought, 'With Ephesus wiped from the surface of the earth, Athens has redeemed itself.'

Smirking after the thought, Pericles let out a short prayer to Ares for the victory and being able to avenge Athens' destruction decades prior.

Speaking aloud, Pericles commanded, "The men have had enough pillaging, we are to set camp and prepare for tomorrow's long march."

"Yes, my lord" His adjutant replied.

'Soon', Pericles thought, 'all of Anatolia will be mine - no - will belong to Athens'

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