The independent Greeks decide to hop across from Rhodes and strike at our soft underbelly. Maybe they realised that we were going to invade them when we could scrape up an army... then again, we couldn't be able to afford that for many years yet. In any case, it's fortunate that Halicarnassus has an actual governor in it to lead the garrison, though Drimylos is unblooded.
In other news, the Eastern Kingdoms breathes its last. No surprises there; the Seleucids have been following in Alexander's footsteps all the way to India.
Drimylos tries to argue that he is outnumbered and inexperienced. His wife tells him that her brothers have faced worse odds before and laughed at them, and tells him to get on with it.
Using some of Iobates' tactical manuals for advice, Drimylos forms up his men into one phalanx just outside the walls.
He envelops part of their infantry and prepares for a standard hammer-and-anvil charge.
The Greek thureophoroi break, and Drimylos charges right through them into their captain's unit. He certainly doesn't lack a sort of basic primitive courage, this bloke.
He draws them back onto his phalanx and crushes them. That's a few hundred Greeks who won't be escaping back across the sea...
Drimylos reforms his line to await the next batch.
They advance in deep formation, clearly hoping to break the phalanx with sheer weight of numbers.
They march calmly onto our sarissas, not even stopping to throw sticks at us first.
Their captain seems happy enough to stand off and get shot by the towers of Halicarnassus as his men get killed to death repeatedly.
Finally coming to his senses, he orders a retreat. Drimylos pursues, but knows that his bodyguard can't match thorakitai when outnumbered three-to-one. Always knew he was a smart man...
Drimylos wins his first victory. Here's hoping those Greeks won't trouble us again until it's time to invade them... their city and the Colossus of Rhodes look tantalisingly close.
Elsewhere, Pidytes sallies to break a renewed siege of Mazaka. Iobates dropped off some spare units from his army that he didn't need any more, giving Pidytes some much-needed strength.
Karayan of Shamushat – great name, that – stands off calmly and lets us form up. Nice of him. Pidytes makes a note to give him a good funeral instead of just putting his head on another spike over the gates.
Their dangerous cataphract archers get a hail of javelins thrown at them.
Pidytes sends out his experienced slingers – some of whom have been with his father's army since the battles of Ipsus and Sardis so long ago – to lure the enemy in to fight what passes for his battle line.
He is forced to intervene personally as the cataphract archers decide to attack his valuable Syrian archers instead.
A scattered infantry battle begins. Pidytes charges around to perform multiple hammer-and-anvils.
Perhaps the Karkades are unnerved by the corpses littering the battlefield behind them... or maybe it's because Pidytes is just out of shot, waving his bloody sword around to signal the charge into their rear.
Mazaka is safe, for around two seconds or so until the next besieging army gets here.
I'd almost forgotten about this front. The Macedonians hurl yet another army across the Bosporus. Wonder if they'll ever give up?
Idomeneos gets started on some excess paperwork.
These Hellenic cousins of ours do show a starling lack of imagination sometimes...
Some eager hoplites plunge into the fray.
The usual black blob starts to hammer away at our phalanx.
And the result is what it has been for the last half-a-hundred times...
Captain Lysippos is cut down along with his peltasts.
Foot Companions typically hold up better than the rest of their comrades. Idomeneos charges in to attack.
They soon break. They all break under a Pergamene hammer-and-anvil... always.
A typical battle. The dead Macedonian horsemen are lined up in neat rows.
Here we go again...
It might say on Idomeneos's grave: 'died of boredom fighting Macedonians'.
Much to his annoyance, they bring a fair-sized contingent of skirmisher cavalry.
Once again, their infantry breaks itself on our phalanx.
They scatter and run in the face of our superiority. You'd think they'd have learnt by now...
What's the overall score now? I've lost count... at the very least, it's Lots to Very Few.
Idomeneos is starting to get a headache. And arm-ache; his sword arm gets a good workout every battle.
He gets started on more paperwork, trusting his army to know what they have to do...
Unfortunately, his phalanx commanders seem to be lobotomised idiots who don't know how to get their men to drop their pikes properly. By the time Idomeneos looks up from his paperwork, the Macedonians have already charged.
Away from the not-phalanx, our right flank surrounds some skirmisher cavalry.
Fortunately, our armoured phalangites are skilled enough to survive even with that mistake, but they take hundreds of avoidable casualties.
Captain Kleisthenes is run down mercilessly.
Another victory, but we took unnecessary casualties. Idomeneos starts ranting at his phalanx.
...but is then forced to stop as yet another army is chucked across the Bosporus and expected to die well. How do they find all these armies?
Idomeneos makes sure that all his distracting paperwork is stuffed safely under his helmet, out of the way.
His phalanx carefully makes sure they're in position this time.
Normal service is restored.
Crunch.
Blimey, an entire update that doesn't feature a battle involving Iobates? He must have lost his taste for war... but there's a lot of war coming, that's for sure. The Seleucid Empire is still the most powerful nation in the known world... and with the destruction of the Eastern Kingdoms, the only nation they're fighting is us. Urk.