Out of Place
an excerpt

The archers in the back line aimed up high and pulled back the cords of there bows. They let go and a the dull thumps of the strings fill the air as a cloud of black arrows rained towards them. Demius stood his ground, letting the arrows clatter against the breast plate he wore, like the rest of his fellows. The Persian’s front line became shifty. The Spartans in front of them took in the bulk of the arrows and the blackened arrow shafts bounced off the tough armor.