Terror in the Bay
The ground began to tremble with great force in the morning, but the inhabitants of the major cities of the bay, Neapolis, Pompeii, Herculaneum, and other villages, did not pay much attention. It was not until the violence of the tremors began to knock wine jugs off counters and topple the unsuspecting villager onto his back with the force that the villagers began to worry a bit. Surely the gods' wrath was upon them. Had they neglected their worship? Had one of their elected officials made some grievous error? The Duoviri were generally unscrupulous men, but they were not outright evil. Marcus, an old man who had lived in Pompeii his entire life, gazed towards the mountain. The Romans had no words for Volcano, and he, like any other average Roman, regarded Vesuvius as simply a mountain. Little did they know it was a ticking time bomb that was just waiting to explode. The tremors were odd and inconvenient, but nothing to fear, unless you were a wine merchant. Life in the cities continued as usual, with temporary stops to wait for the tremors to pass. It was not until the afternoon that the god's wrath would be felt more violently.
In the mid afternoon the Mountain seemed to explode. A cloud of ash rose like a column of dark smoke high into the sky. Within just an hour or so, the skies above Pompeii and Herculaneum were dark, the ash blotting out the sun. It was as if the mountain had belched the filth of the underworld into the sky, the smell was atrocious, like that of decaying flesh. It was at this point normal activity ceased. How was it possible to continue work with the light gone from the sky so early? Even though the oil lamps in the street burned with a peculiar foreboding, some citizens were beginning to think it was time to go to see relatives in the north or south, or perhaps just to get out of the city and explore the countryside.
After a few hours the hot ash that had been belched up by the mountain began to condense and fall back down to earth. Light ash began to collect on rooftops and streets in the cities. It was annoying, but perhaps not deadly. That is, until, shortly after heavier rocks began to fall as well. Now death appeared on the streets as some of the unfortunate were pummeled with rocks from the skies. The dead began to collect in the streets and now panic began in earnest. The gods had deigned to rain death down from above and strike them down. Deprived of light and air, the streets became choked with people fleeing away from the mountain. The situation was deteriorating quickly as looting ensued. Order was beginning to break down.
The ground once again began to shake, the ash fell ever thicker, and roofs began collapsing under the weight of the debris. Families were buried where they stood huddled in their houses, perhaps next to the idols of their house, praying for deliverance. it never came. The mountain turned a brilliant crimson as it began spewing magma, but it would only get worse from here. The mountain began to tremble where suddenly there was a massive explosion. It appeared that the mountain had exploded, sending clouds of ash and superheated materials down the sides of the hills, towards Pompeii and Herculaneum. The clouds billowed louder than thousands of forges operating at once. It was the war cry of the gods, the sound of impending death. The ash swirled around the streets of Pompeii, choking any of the inhabitants that failed to escape. Meanwhile superheated mud rushed into Herculaneum, burying the city completely and killing all within.
Several cities were lost in an instant, while prime real estate around the bay was utterly ruined. Some of the Empire's richest farmland lay in ruin and thousands of refugees flooded out of the area north towards the only haven they knew: Rome.
Originally Posted by Ancient Aliens
