I write this from the deck of our fleeing ship, my heart still racing, and my thoughts with the sailors we were forced to leave behind us. I hold myself as responsible for the events of the last day, however I am not the only one who bears the guilt of the lives that were lost. I gave my permission, reluctantly, for what was supposed to be a lightning raid on the Cicones. The town was quickly sacked and the spoils and women divvied up however the men were not sated. They insisted on feasting among the ruins of the town, falling into a drunken stupor before morning. Unfortunately, morning is when the Cicones came back with reinforcements, seeking recompense. I was able to get away, along with most of my men, however some few were
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