A young mind awakend an old body. A rough wave awoke Lysimachus from his dreams. Just a year ago his brother Aegon had died. And not a day went past that it hurt any less. His task was to unite the world under a growing Athens banner. Like all those before him he would not fail.
Aegon had died before he could put down the civil war that was dividing the country. Fools, Lysim thought. How could anyone think to throw down our family? Ill finish my forbearers work. Quickly the old admiral sent orders to his generals: Crush this enemy. Destroy his heart, tear out his soul! I want them gone!
Victories were all that were known while dispatching the rebels. Their navies stood no chance. And likewise their armies fell in quick succession. Though they did not go without a fight. It took Lysimachus and his generals many battles to finally bring them to their end.
After the quelling of the civil war Lysimachus was at a loss. What to do he wondered.... Where should we go next? It was decided that Triballi, to the north, was an easy target. All it took was but one campaign to bring them to their knees. A single army stormed the castle and won victory.
Next it was Macedon. A re-emerging country, to weak to make it in the days of old, tried to resurface. "The weak should stay where they belong!" Lysim exclaimed. And so it was. Macedon was crushed beneath Athens hoplite hordes.
Small meaningless states brought no glory...... Athens needed a challenge. They needed a good fight in order to bring glory and honor the gods.
Pontus.....
Those eastern weaklings had been coddled for far to long. Done is our non aggression. If they cant be our equals, they don't deserve to live. And shortly war was declared on Pontus.
The first battle in the Pontic campaign was fought at the Pontic town of Ancrya. Lysimachus fully expected a long siege, or even a bloody assault. Instead he was greeted with a sally and a glorious fight on the field! Maybe, Lysim thought, just maybe this will be the glorious conquest he envisioned. Between Pontus and their allies Trapezos maybe they had enough to give us a fight. The Athenian generals took to the field. They were ready to test this Pontic foe. Long had they heard of the legendary Pontic swordsman. But what good would that do against the hoplite phalanx?
The battle was over. Far to soon. Far to easily. Pontic swordsmen.... Bah more like Pontic sheep. Weak and untrained.
Soon after the fall of Ancrya came the combination assault, by naval and ground forces, on Sinope.
Taking to the waters Lysimachus ordered his fleet into the attack. Strings of the heavy ballista thrummed as bolts arced and met the hulls of the Pontic warships. Several were sunk before they were even reached by the boarding parties. The naval battle culminated in the mass sinking of the enemy navy. The screams of drowning Pontic soldiers was like music to Lysimachus' ears.
With the enemy navy out of the way the foot units of Athens stormed the beach to the rear of the Pontic army, effectively creating a second front in which they had to defend. With the cavalry creating a soft third front the town was totally surrounded. No one was to come out alive. Alas it was far to much for the Pontic army to handle. They were destroyed by the three pronged assault. Death followed each screaming Pontic soldier.
The Athenian war machine rolled on. Athens took Amaesia next. It was a simple battle. Yet another route in this pitiful war. Lysimachus was overjoyed at the expansion of his empire. He beamed from ear to ear and was proud of his warriors and generals alike. One battle was all it took to crush Trapezos.
Lysimachus was 75 years old after the defeat of Trapezos. So he called his brother Prochoros to him. Always it had been thus. The older admiral and his younger brother. The Admiral and the General. They spent a long time talking. "It will soon be my time to die brother" Lysim said " and you must carry on my vision. You must put down this Pontic threat and go on to greater things!" Agreements were made and as the night grew cold Lysimachus went to sleep.
Never again did his brother wake. Prochoros stood in the sun and pondered all that his brother had told him but a night before. He would continue his brothers work. He would throw down Pontus and then he would throw down anyone else who was in his way.
Ten years younger than his older brother Prochoros became king at age 55. Neigh a stranger to battle. He was a six star general. Beaten and bloodied many times. He had the best army of Athenian brothers that had ever been fielded. He trusted every man., even knew a lot of them by name. Prochoros continued his brothers work. But in his own image. He quickly decided subdue Ardhan. Sending two of his generals to surround and destroy them. After a single bloody battle it was over. Ardhan was gone.
Prochoros continued to hammer his Pontic foes all the way back to Ektabana. The last hold of the once mighty Pontic empire. An empire once stretching a good chunk of the Middle East. Three Athenian armies stood out side of the gates. Ready to assault it. Prochoros gave the order. It was a beautifully sunny day. To bad it had to be sullied by war.
The Fighting was both on the walls and through them. Hoplites tore down the gates and breached the walls with ladders. Burning oil poured upon the Athenian attackers but it didn't matter. The walls were mounted by hoplites who then flanked the gate defenders. Athenian archers posted on the walls raining death from the heavens.
Entering the city more defenders tried to rally. One group of hoplites were cut off and surrounded but were eventually saved. Even the Pontic chariots were no match for the Athenian army. They barely put a dent in a hoplite unit before being routed. After a long battle the enemies finally routed. Fleeing from the very gates they swore to hold only the morning before.
Re: Athens: Summer. Harvest. War (R2TW succession game)
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Originally Posted by easytarget
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