Thread Tools
Old July 10, 2002, 09:22   #1
WTE_OzWolf
Warlord
 
WTE_OzWolf's Avatar
 
Local Time: 04:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Sep 2001
Location: Australia
Posts: 122
A Game of Crowns
Greetings,

Well, I was sitting down and thinking what should I write my next story about. I ran through a number of different ideas and came up with this one. The game this story is based around is on a pangean continent with eight nations. However, in this case, the nations are factions to one kingdom and this story is an expanded story of one era of the game (much like The Cost of War was). Anyway, here is a teaser.

A Game of Crowns



For those that can't see it:

Map Image

Prologue

Prince Xerses of the Persians stood atop the hillside looking down upon Berlin, the royal capital of the Great Kingdom. For how long that remained, he had no idea. Along with the leaders of the other seven clans of the Great Kingdom, Xerses was traveling to Berlin to discuss the naming of a new king.

The reign of the German Kings had come to an end when King Frederick III died without an heir only three weeks ago and this meeting between the clans was a response to that. Xerses, though only young, saw himself that the talks would be useless. Too many of the clan leaders had made claims on the throne.

“We are ready, my liege.” Xerses’ Master-at-Arms said from his side.

Xerses nodded and spurred his warhorse forward. The talks were a useless gesture, he knew, but he also suspected each of the clan leaders held some belief the others would bend their knee to them.

As they approached the city gates, a footman in the dark purple of the German clan stepped forward.

“My liege, you are to surrender your weapons at the armoury just inside the gate.” He ordered. “Only the city guard may carry weapons.”

Xerses nodded an order to his troops, but ensured his concealed weapons were still on his body. The last thing he wanted was to walk into a possible assassination without any form of defence. With his guard apparently disarmed, the gates swung ponderously open and they moved forward. The common-folk on the street stepped aside before the fluttering lime-green standards of the Persian clan.

“Keep your eyes open Tersa.” Xerses said to his Master-at-Arms. “I don’t trust Bismark.”

“He is the cousin of Frederick and believes he is the next in line.” Tersa said. “The entire German clan believes that their leader is the rightful heir.”

Xerses snorted.

“I don’t care what they believe.” He said. “Our laws state that the heir must be of direct descendant of the last king. If there is no direct descendant, then the clan leaders must choose a king from amongst themselves.”

“Whoever created that rule must have been brain dead.” Tersa chuckled. “The clan leaders would never agree on one leader.”

“Exactly.” Xerses agreed. “It was a loop-hole that all the clans could use to take the crown.”

He sighed.

“I doubt there will be a result from this meeting.” Xerses said.

“Look, it’s Lord Alexander.” Tersa interrupted. Xerses looked over and raised a hand in greeting. Out of all the other clans, the Greeks were the closest to the Persians.

“Hail my Lord.” Xerses greeted as Alexander’s party drew close. “Are you well prepared?”

Favouring Xerses with a smile, Alexander tapped his right abdomen.

“As prepared as I can be in the presence of Germans, my Prince.” Alexander replied. “Though I would have been happier had this taken place on neutral territory.”

“I doubt it would have made much difference.” Xerses said. “There probably isn’t any neutral ground in the kingdom anyway.”

Any reply from Alexander was broken up when they arrived at the Great Hall. Squires came out to take their horses. Dismounting, Xerses and Alexander made differing figures. Xerses was every inch a warrior prince, nearly seven feet tall, bulging muscle and fiery eyes. Alexander was the exact opposite. Under six feet tall, wiry and used to the graces of luxury, Alexander was a politician and tactician. He was a true-bred Greek, skilled in the art of politics and tactics and quick of mind. Xerses always pitied the barbarians that attempted to raid Greek cities, the most defensive cities in the Kingdom.

The entered the Great Hall. At the front of the hall sat the throne, currently empty. Arrayed around it in a horseshoe were eight “stalls” that allowed the clan leaders to sit with their honour guard behind them. The ruling clan usually had either the heir of their clan or the designated regent should the heir be too young seated in their stall.

Xerses nodded his acknowledgement to Prince Bismark and Baron Abraham Lincoln seated on the otherside of the horseshoe. Xerses leant over to Alexander.

“Those two are as thick as thieves.” He said, nodding towards Bismark and Lincoln.

“They’re probably saying the same about us.” Alexander chuckled.

A commotion at the door caught Xerses’ attention.

“Out of my way Elizabeth.” Baroness Joan de Arc said. “You may be able to flatter your way with the men, but I am not prey to your charms.”

Xerses smiled.

“Good to see they’re still getting on.” He said. “See what I mean about this meeting. There is just too much distrust amongst us.”

“Lady Elizabeth.” Alexander said, half-rising as Elizabeth, leader of the English clan, took her seat alongside Alexander. “I see your clan and the French have settled their differences.”

“Enough of your sarcasm, Alexander.” Elizabeth replied, smiling slightly. She looked at Xerses. “Prince Xerses.”

“Lady Elizabeth.” Xerses replied in neutral tones. He did not fully trust the English.

The final members to arrive were Caeser and Cleopatra, and as was the Roman way, he refused to acknowledge anyone and simply too his seat closest to the door. Cleopatra simply nodded and sat down. Xerses trusted the Egyptians even less. When everybody was settled, Bismark stood.

“This meeting between the clan leaders has been called to decide who will rule the Great Kingdom now that the King is dead and there is no heir.” He said. “It is my great hope that the other clans will recognize the natural lineage of the German clan and recognize our right to continue as the rulers of the Great Kingdom.”

“The French clan recognizes no such right.” Joan replied. “Since your ancestors banished our clan to the Isle of the Lost, we knew our right to own the throne was being hidden by the traitorous Germans.”

“Your right?!?” Elizabeth literally screeched. “The French tried to sell out the Great Kingdom for their own gains all those years ago. I’d rather have the Germans on the throne again than give you the crown.”

“So you do recognize the German right then?” Bismark said, looking at Elizabeth.

“In your dreams, Bismark.” Elizabeth replied. “Even you’d make a poor substitute for England on the throne.”

“The English would make ideal rulers.” Lincoln chimed in sarcastically. “They already think themselves higher and mightier than the rest of us. Just what we need, a ruler completely out of touch with everyone else.”

“And you would make a better leader?” Cleopatra asked.

“Why not?” Lincoln replied. “We are the production capital of the kingdom and nothing is stronger than our steel.”

“And without Persian might, your steel factories would have been overrun by barbarians a long time ago.” Xerses reminded Lincoln calmly. Lincoln’s eyes narrowed.

“You, my young prince, do not have dreams of the crown I hope?” He said. “You are but a pup amongst us.”

“Our soldiers supply the bulk of the kingdom’s general army.” Xerses replied. “We live and die for military service to this kingdom. War does not promote long life.”

“Are you threatening us militarially Xerses?” Cleopatra asked. “If there is one thing that I want less than the high and mighty English ruling us is having a military despot in charge.”

“I am not threatening anything Joan.” Xerses said. “I am merely pointing out what position I am in.”

“Which is one of great importance.” Alexander spoke up. “The man that controls the army will be of a great asset to our aspiring kings.”

“Are you saying that you have no desire for the throne, Alexander?” Bismark asked.

“Not at all, my dear prince.” Alexander said, his cool, smooth voice in direct contrast to Bismarks rough accent. “I just don’t believe in making baseless claims when nobody has any.”

Bismark let out a throaty growl.

“So, you’re going to fight for the crown?” He asked.

Alexander shook his head in bemusement.

“You like jumping to conclusions, don’t you Bismark?” Alexander said. “Once again, I said no such thing. I need more information before I am willing to act.”

Bismark grunted in disgust and the room fell into silence. Inconspicuously, Xerses looked at Caeser. He had remained quiet throughout the entire meeting. Even as he watched, Caeser stood and made his way to the door.

“Caeser!” Lincoln called. “What is your opinion and want?”

Caeser turned a cool, skeptical eye back on the gathering.

“My opinion?” He replied. “You are all like bickering children. My want? You really don’t want to know.”

With a sweep of his cloak, Caeser left the room. Cleopatra left soon after.

“Well.” Bismark said uncertainly. “I think this meeting is concluded. Yet we still haven’t come to a decision.”

“I think you have already got your decision, prince.” Alexander said, rising. “We cannot decide.”

Xerses rose as well.

“Prince Xerses.” Joan said. “Are you willing to back the rightful claim of the French to the throne?”

“The Persian clan backs no-one, Baroness.” Xerses said. “Least of all the French.”

Xerses and Alexander left the Great Hall, leaving Elizabeth, Bismark, Joan and Lincoln arguing.

“I don’t trust them.” Alexander said. “Least of all the French.”

“I don’t think it’s the French you need to worry about my friend.” Xerses replied. “The Romans are the most mysterious and secretive of the clans and Caeser probably has the most ambition among any of us.”

They climbed onto their horses and at a full gallop left the city, only stopping briefly to gather their weapons at the gate.

“Either way,” Alexander said as they galloped along, “we’re heading for war.”
--------------------------------
Well, thoughts? Sound interesting?Map Image
__________________
Oooh! Pretty flashing red button! * PUSH *

Last edited by WTE_OzWolf; May 11, 2003 at 23:07.
WTE_OzWolf is offline  
Old July 10, 2002, 09:54   #2
TheGuitarist
Warlord
 
TheGuitarist's Avatar
 
Local Time: 23:04
Local Date: October 31, 2010
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: Columbia, SC, USA
Posts: 284
Certainly does sound interesting!

I'm wondering where you're taking this: all-out war between the clans? Or dipomatic maneuvering and betrayal?

In any case, keep going.
TheGuitarist is offline  
Old July 13, 2002, 10:01   #3
WTE_OzWolf
Warlord
 
WTE_OzWolf's Avatar
 
Local Time: 04:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Sep 2001
Location: Australia
Posts: 122
Battle of the Three Armies

The early morning mist still hung over the open plain; silver-gray tendrils that stretched out across the field like fingers. It was slowly dissapating with the rising of the sun, but the view was one of beauty. Beauty that would be shattered within the next few hours.

Prince Xerses, mounted on his warhorse looked over at Lord Alexander.

"I did not think the Americans could field such an army in such a short time." He stated, nodding towards the American forces forming up on the other side.

"Never underestimate them, my friend." Alexander replied. "The American clan holds a great deal of territory within the kingdom and they have a large pool of people to recruit from."

"You are right, of course." Xerses said. "But their factories must have come to a standstill for them to train these people."

"They could afford to do it." Alexander pointed out. "With the kingdom falling to war, they no longer had to supply the other factions with goods or weapons and what they were producing certainly out-stripped what they needed."

"It will be a tough battle." Xerses said, changing the subject to something easier to grasp and closer to hand. "Though we outnumber them, they have a great deal of modern weaponary compared to us."

Alexander looked down at the Persian and Greek armies arrayed around them. The Persians, who prided themselves on their horsemenship, only had a limited number of armoured horse and their defensive unit of choice was the spearmen. Horsemen, not much more than scouts in today's day and age, rounded out their mounted troop numbers. But the always-feared Persian Immortals bolstered what would otherwise be a lack-lustre army facing the modern American army.

The Greeks were the opposite to the Persians. They had no armoured horses and only a few horsemen they had managed to train during the short horse-gemstones trade that Xerses and Alexander had started. Swordsmen, whose armour could no longer be replaced, were the Greek's offensive weapons. But the Greeks countered their lack of offensive weapons with the Hoplite units, a unit that even the modern Americans would dread facing.

The armies were lining up against each other in northern Greece. Upon noticing the gathered American forces striking south for Greek territory, Alexander had immediately asked for Xerses' assistance in stopping a full-out invasion from their northern neighbours. Gathering what forces he could, while still protecting the Persian territories from other clans, Xerses had struck north, his column weaving their way north to meet up with Alexander and his forces and meet the Americans.

It had surprised Xerses to find Alexander leading his own troops into battle. The Greek clan leader was not who Xerses considered a warrior, nor someone that could command an army into battle, but it was not Xerses' place to question. He was simply there in the hope of convincing the Americans to return to their own territories.

"Are we going to try one last time for a diplomatic solution?" Xerses asked.

"I suppose we should." Alexander said.

Along with their respective battle standards, Alexander and Xerses trotted out from amongst their ranks and towards the centre of the battlefield. A single horse with the light blue American battle standards made its way towards them from the American army.

"Thomas Lincoln." Xerses said upon sighting who was the one in command of the American army. "So, the American clan leader sends his son to lead the invasion."

"Not surprising." Alexander replied as they trotted along. "Abraham is not so much the warrior anymore."

"He never was a warrior." Xerses grunted. "He preferred to stay behind the city walls or whatever keep or castle was nearby rather than enter into battle."

“Like a certain somebody else, my warrior Prince?” Alexander asked, wryly.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Xerses said, refusing to enter into the banter. “Come, let us see if we can stop this madness.”

The two respective parties met in the centre of the open plain.

“Thomas Lincoln.” Alexander said. “We assume you speak on behalf of your father, Abraham Lincoln, leader of the glorious American clan?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me, Alexander.” Lincoln said. “But, yes, I do speak for my father.”

“We wish for the American people to acknowledge the clan holdings of the Greeks and remove your army from our territory.” Alexander stated. “If you do so peacefully, you will not be attacked by Greek forces, so is my word.”

Thomas Lincoln looked at Xerses.

“And you, Persian,” he said, “what demands do you have?”

“I have no demands of the Americans.” Xerses said. “I am simply here to try and stop this madness.”

Lincoln chuckled ominously.

“I’m afraid you are too late for that.” He said. “You alone cannot stop this. There are too many head-strong and greedy people involved, my father included.”

“Then join us and help stop it, Thomas.” Xerses said.

This time Thomas Lincoln laughed out loud.

“I am sorry, Prince Xerses, but that is impossible.” He said. “I have my orders and I cannot accept your demands. The Americans will have this territory.”

Wheeling his horse around, Thomas galloped back to the waiting American army. Xerses sighed.

“Perhaps he is right.” Xerses said. “There are dark times ahead.”

“Enough gloom, Xerses.” Alexander said. “We have a battle to fight.”

“One which I was hoping not to.” Xerses said. “But if our wishes and hopes always came true, then life would become too easy.”

The two men rode their horses back to the waiting combined army. On the way, Xerses gave his signal to his Master-at-Arms and in short time, the long, bass call of the Persian war horns could be heard, floating through the air and dispersing mist like long dead warriors, returning to grant their descendants luck and fortune in battle. Battle standards were raised and fluttered in the wind. Xerses bid his luck to Alexander and rode over to his part of the army, unsheathing his weapon.

The great longsword, crafted by the Persians finest metal-smith from Persian metal, flickered with light as the early morning sun reflected off of the polished metal. His men, all hand-picked and battle-hardened, knelt before him.

“To our warrior god, we give thanks for his guidance and ask that he once again shine fortune and luck onto us during the coming battle.” Xerses said, raising the sword towards the sky.

The Persian soldiers rose and prepared for battle.

“Catapults!” Xerses called and he heard his command being relayed back to the siege and bombardment weapons at the rear of the army. “Fire!”

Like a giant breath of air, the Persian catapults unleashed their deadly loads: pots of burning oil, spiked balls and giant sacks of loose metal shards that exploded on impact.

“Archers!” Xerses called out. “Fire!”

With distinctive twang of longbows, thousands of wooden shards began raining down on the enemy. But it wasn’t all one-way traffic. The American army began to answer in kind. Catapult shot began to rain down on the Persian and Greek troops, along with as many arrows as what the Persians was sending over.

The cries of the wounded filled the air, along with the acrid smell of burning plants and flesh. Xerses breathed in deep, using the sounds and smell to fuel his warrior spirit. He let the anger at the pain his men were suffering swell the warrior spirit to the point where he thought he was going to burst. War lust burned bright within him and he knew what he must do.

“My soldiers!” He cried. “Charge the enemy and send them back to Washington!”

Raising his sword, he spurred his mighty warhorse forward and joined his legions of Immortals as they charged the American lines. As he passed the forward lines of the Greeks, he saw confused looks as the Greek soldiers and commanders tried to determine why the Persians were breaking the battle plan.

Xerses fell into line with his armoured horse as they lead the Persian charge.

“Fight well and the warrior god will reward you!” Xerses cried out just before his line of armoured horse clashed fully with a similar charge from the Americans.

The clash of steel on steel filled the air and the cries and yells of fighting men surrounded Xerses. Levelling his sword, he picked a target and swung, cleanly taking the enemy’s head off. Reversing his sword, he swung at a lightly-armoured American horseman. The longsword cut through that man’s armour with the ease of knife through silk.

The fight was joined by Immortals from the Persians and swordsmen from the Americans, adding a new element to the battle. Like a wraith, Xerses waded in amongst the American soldiers, recklessly slashing at anything. Blood dulled the gleam of his sword and was splattered over himself and his horse and yet they still kept coming.

Suddenly, Xerses’ horse disappeared from underneath him and he was dumped unceremoniously face-first into the mud underfoot. Rolling onto his back, he raised his sword and parried a killing blow, mere inches from his face. Grunting, he swatted the sword away, drew a slender knife, and slotted it in the spot under the swordsman’s arm where their was no heavy armour. The enemy soldier collapsed onto the ground.

Grunting, he tried to rise, but another enemy soldier attempted to strike at him. With a deft swipe, Xerses removed the enemy soldiers left foot, sending him collapsing to the ground, clutching his leg, any thought of the battle lost to his screams of pain.

Rolling out of the way of a horse, he climbed to his feet and blocked a sword strike over his head from behind that would have cracked his helmet and head wide open. Swinging around, he brought the blade across the abdomen of the enemy swordsmen. His breath came hard and he was perspiring hard. His long hair was clinging to his face, but with a warrior’s cry he flung himself back into the battle.

A shape loomed out of the mass and Xerses pulled up his slashing swing mere seconds before decapitating a Greek hoplite. Alexander had advanced his army into the battle, and his hoplites were effectively tearing the attacking Americans, deftly knocking down horses, riders and foot soldiers with their long pikes. Hoplites might have been an ancient era unit, but the Greek traditions and tactics still had pride of place in today’s armies.

Turning back to the battle, Xerses let out a war cry and charge back in. His sword flashed and enemies fell. He trod over dead Americans, Persians and Greeks, at peace in death. The initial yells and cries of war that had filled the air at the first clash had been replaced with the terrified cries of wounded and dying men. Men who no longer cared about the outcome of the battle but only the outcome of their life.

The battle had thinned. Targets were less numerous and had started to lack the enthusiasm to fight. When the last of the American foot soldiers fell, Thomas Lincoln called for the retreat and the tattered remnants of his armoured horse fled the battlefield, along with the tattered pride of the American army.

Standing amidst the remnants of his own army, Xerses fought to catch his breath. His blood-splattered self was indistinguishable from the other Persian Immortals or Greek swordsmen. As he looked around, a party flying the Greek battle standards came riding up, Alexander at the head. If that wasn’t enough to tell Xerses that the battle had been won, the Persian war horns began calling the victory to the warrior god. Somehow, Alexander picked out Xerses and rode up to him.

“My, my, Prince Xerses.” He commented. “You do like to get your hands dirty. If you keep this up, the Persians could be without a leader once again.”

“The Persian Prince always leads his mean into battle, Alexander.” Xerses said. “That is why we always die young.”

“I doubt the Americans will be underestimating the fighting ability of the Persians in the near future.” Alexander stated. “Come, we must gather our armies and head north to crush the Americans once and for all.”

“I am going in the opposite direction, my friend.” Xerses said. “I came here to help you defend your territorial borders, not to join you in an invasion.”

“I’m afraid you do not see the greater picture, my friend.” Alexander said. “Lincoln knew I would ask you to help defend the Greek territories. He knew that the Greek army could not stand against the Americans alone and he knew you were my closest ally. Lincoln did not care if he won or lost here today. Either way, he could drag the Persians into battle against him.”

“What aim would that serve him?” Xerses asked, not liking where the conversation was heading. “The Greek territories are a buffer between America and Persia and our combined might could hold them indefinitely.”

“Because the Americans are in league with the Germans.” Alexander said. “Or don’t you remember our little meeting in Berlin?”

“I remember all too well.” Xerses said. “That is all the more reason for me to return. I am sorry Alexander, I must put the safety and needs of my people ahead of your desire for revenge or personal gain.”

“Personal gain?” Alexander said, laughing. “It’s got nothing to do with personal gain Xerses but it does have everything to do with survival. If we don’t strike at the American clan, they will attack us.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Alexander,” replied Xerses, “but the Greeks do not exactly have an offensive army.”

“That is why I need you, Xerses.” Alexander replied.

“I am sorry, but I cannot.” Xerses said. “I am returning to Persia, along with my army.”

Alexander shook his head and smiled sadly.

“I just hope this isn’t the end.” He said.

“It isn’t, my friend.” Xerses said. “The Persian forces will always provide assistance should you need them, we just won’t go to war with you.”

“We’re already at war together, Prince Xerses.” Alexander said but held up his hand. “Don’t, I know you’re set. We will part as friends. Luck in your endeavours.”

“And luck in yours.” Xerses said, grasping Alexanders offered hand. Gathering his soldiers, Xerses marched south, back to Persia and an unknown future.
__________________
Oooh! Pretty flashing red button! * PUSH *
WTE_OzWolf is offline  
Old July 13, 2002, 10:20   #4
civman2000
Civilization III Democracy GameCivilization II Democracy GameNationStatesNever Ending StoriesDiplomacyInterSite Democracy Game: Apolyton TeamPtWDG RoleplayC3C IDG: Apolyton Team
Emperor
 
civman2000's Avatar
 
Local Time: 22:04
Local Date: October 31, 2010
Join Date: May 2001
Location: of the Martian Empire
Posts: 4,969
great! Keep this up!
__________________
Ham grass chocolate.

"This should be the question they ask you before you get to vote. If you answer 'no', then they brand you with a giant red 'I' on your forehead and you are forever barred from taking part in the electoral process again."--KrazyHorse
"I'm so very glad KH is Canadian."--Donegeal
civman2000 is offline  
Old July 13, 2002, 11:03   #5
TheGuitarist
Warlord
 
TheGuitarist's Avatar
 
Local Time: 23:04
Local Date: October 31, 2010
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: Columbia, SC, USA
Posts: 284
Excellent!
TheGuitarist is offline  
Old August 15, 2002, 17:21   #6
ChrisiusMaximus
Civilization III PBEMApolyton Storywriters' GuildCivilization III Democracy GameC3CDG Blood Oath HordeC4DG The HordeC4BtSDG Rabbits of CaerbannogCiv4 SP Democracy GameCivilization IV PBEMC4WDG éirich tuireann
Emperor
 
ChrisiusMaximus's Avatar
 
Local Time: 05:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: Staffordshire England
Posts: 8,321
This is very good
__________________
A proud member of the "Apolyton Story Writers Guild".There are many great stories at the Civ 3 stories forum, do yourself a favour and visit the forum. Lose yourself in one of many epic tales and be inspired to write yourself, as I was.
ChrisiusMaximus is offline  
Old August 15, 2002, 18:25   #7
Civ3King
Chieftain
 
Civ3King's Avatar
 
Local Time: 00:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: May 2002
Location: United States
Posts: 73
This is gettting intresting keep writing. There is something about Alexander I dont trust.
__________________
-Civ3King, author of the stories- "Of Freindship and War", "The Struggle for Power", and Crossing the Rubicon".
Civ3King is currently working on: The story "Hidden Agenda" and "The Rising Moon"


"Too many ties with too many people will get you in a knot."
- Me
Civ3King is offline  
Old August 15, 2002, 23:33   #8
dnassman
Warlord
 
dnassman's Avatar
 
Local Time: 14:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Sep 2001
Location: Melbourne, Australia
Posts: 178
This is just as good as the Nightmare and shame story you are writing. You gotta finish this one too.
dnassman is offline  
Old August 18, 2002, 21:37   #9
Verto
Apolyton Storywriters' GuildNationStatesMac
King
 
Verto's Avatar
 
Local Time: 23:04
Local Date: October 31, 2010
Join Date: Mar 2002
Location: Dallas, TX
Posts: 2,824
Very well written, as all you're stories are. Keep it up!
Verto is offline  
Old August 23, 2002, 19:24   #10
trickey
Civilization III Democracy GameNever Ending StoriesRise of Nations MultiplayerPtWDG2 Cake or Death?
Prince
 
trickey's Avatar
 
Local Time: 00:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Mar 2002
Location: Prince Edward Island, Canada
Posts: 740
are you gonna keep this one going? its great
trickey is offline  
Old August 23, 2002, 19:30   #11
WTE_OzWolf
Warlord
 
WTE_OzWolf's Avatar
 
Local Time: 04:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Sep 2001
Location: Australia
Posts: 122
Yes...I've actually been writing the next chapter, however its taking a little longer than I expected (though the chapter isn't).
__________________
Oooh! Pretty flashing red button! * PUSH *
WTE_OzWolf is offline  
Old August 23, 2002, 20:36   #12
trickey
Civilization III Democracy GameNever Ending StoriesRise of Nations MultiplayerPtWDG2 Cake or Death?
Prince
 
trickey's Avatar
 
Local Time: 00:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Mar 2002
Location: Prince Edward Island, Canada
Posts: 740
Ok, just wondering.
trickey is offline  
Old September 17, 2002, 23:08   #13
WTE_OzWolf
Warlord
 
WTE_OzWolf's Avatar
 
Local Time: 04:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Sep 2001
Location: Australia
Posts: 122
...continued...
I apologise for the gap in writing. Been doing other things, like going on holiday, work around the house, etc.

Anyway, the next chapter is finally complete.

The Forgotten French

The unlit night closed around the French fleet like an all-encompassing blanket, shielding them from the eyes of the enemy and ensuring their safe passage towards the mainland. Baroness Joan de Arc could not have asked for better conditions as she stood on the prow of the French galley Paris Triomphe.

The smell of the sea and the spray of salt water filled her senses and like everytime she was aboard her ship, she felt truely alive. The world and her apparent destiny lay before her when she stood on the prow and it felt good. Soft footsteps barely made themselves heard behind her.

With light feet, Joan dropped to the deck and looked at the ship's captain as he stood there.

"Yes captain?" She said in a hushed voice. At night, sound seemed to carry further across water and the last thing they wanted was to be stumbled upon by the enemy.

"All is well, m'lady." The captain replied. "Lookouts report all clear to the horizon and we continue our silent running well."

To further reduce the noise the French fleet could make, sails had been furled to stop them cracking against the wind and oars wrapped in cloth were being used to propel the thirty-odd vessels silently across the Strait of Sorrows towards the mainlands of the Great Kingdom.

"We have nothing to fear from the Germans." Joan said. "They have spent too many years relying on the English fleets to protect their shores. They have no significant fleet of their own."

"But what of the English?" Enquired the captain, out of curiosity, not fear. That was what Joan liked about her ship's captain, his level-headed thinking during battle.

"The English are of no concern." Joan said.

Which was true as far as the French were concerned. The English acted all high and mighty, convincing themselves that their fleet was the grandest within all of the Great Kingdom, but it was a farce. Joan knew this because none of the other clans within the Great Kingdom truely recognised the French as an equal member.

Hundreds of years ago when the last war had erupted over the crown, the French had occupied wealthy lands just north of Berlin. A thin strip of cities and towns dotted along the coast, it had brought much wealth to the French as the trading mecha of the Great Kingdom. But the French found themselves on the losing side, supporting a king that was destined to rule the bottom of grave. Leaderless and with her allies bending the knee to the new German king, the French had found their cities overrun by English and German armies, effectively banishing them to the Isle of the Lost, a desolate strip of land set aside from the Great Kingdom mainland.

The Germans had never trusted the French while they sat upon the throne, and with the German clan as the Royal Clan, the French had dared not retaliate for fear of reprisals from the other clans. But now, with the kingdom in turmoil, the French could strike back and repay the hardships suffered at the hands of the Germans and the English.

A commotion above made her look up. The vague silhouette of the lookout could be seen making hand signals. While Joan had trouble following what was being said, the captain had had years at see and had eyes like a cat.

"Unknown vessels seen approaching from the north, m'lady." The captain reported. "By the number of them, most likely English."

"What number are there?" Joan asked, weighing up her options.

"Approximately ten." The captain answered.

"Deploy the vanguard fleet." Joan said. "The invasion fleet will make landfall by day break."

The captain nodded and moved off. Soon, marine animal calls could be heard floating across the waves as the ships communicated. It fell quiet quickly, but Joan saw the twelve vessels of the vanguard fleet pull away and move towards the north. Even as she watched, they unfurled their black sails and picked up speed.

"God speed their sails, keep true their shot and keep their rams straight." Joan said, speaking a naval prayer out loud.

In silence, the invasion fleet continued its toil towards the mainland. No longer contemplating her future, but the present, Joan continued to watch the battle between the fleets unfold in front of her.

In unison, the deck catapaults lit their shot, momentarily creating beacons out in the middle of nowhere. Mere milliseconds after the catapault shot had been lit, they were thrown into the air. Like ash from the gods, the burning bundles dropped down into the English fleet, smashing into hulls, setting wood, sail and person alight.

The English fleet fell immediately into disarray. Joan smiled tightly to herself. Indeed the English had done a good job of convincing themselves they had the greatest navy. Caught unprepared, the English made no competition for the aggressive tactics of the French captains. The French ships closed on the English fleet, smashing into them with rams and letting loose a rain of firey death with archers lining the gunwhale. Joan turned away from the battle as it sunk below the horizon.

"How long captain?" She asked.

"Two hours m'lady." The captain replied.

"Two hours until we take back what is rightfully ours." Joan commented.

* * *

The tides were good to the French and they in fact arrived at their destination before the estimated two hours, and under the grey cover of early morning, they rowed their army ashore. Joan remained tense, expecting a welcoming party, but not once did they detect the presence of any German troops.

Joan snorted at the German's concept of high alert. She had vowed that the high-and-mighty Germans and English would regret their disdain and contempt for the French and it appeared they were going to hand her France's redemption on a plate.

With whispered commands, the French army consisting of horsemen, swordsmen, spearmen, archers and catapaults spread began snaking its way through the German countryside, enroute for the city that stood as the throne of the Great Kingdom for three centuries.

Half a day later, as the high walls of Berlin rose from the horizon before her, Joan's contempt of the German high families had turned to pity for the German people. The German leaders showed little regard for the safety of the German people, obviously keeping their troops within the city walls for their own protection. They had literally abandoned their own people.

"The Germans have grown complacent." Joan commented to General la Fayette riding at her side.

"They have spent three hundred years relying on English ships and Persian troops to protect them m'lady." la Fayette replied. "And now the Persians no longer provide them troops."

"And our fleet has always been the better over the English." Joan said, chuckling slightly.

Their short conversation was interrupted as drums began to beat from the city of Berlin and people outside began streaming in. The giant snake that wass the French army began to fan out, taking up positions around the city walls, well outside an archer's range.

"Catapaults ready!" Joan screamed, when after three hours the French army had arrayed itself into a siege formation. Heavily armoured swordsmen stood alongside spearmen, protecting the front of the formation. Behind them came the archers and the horsemen while at the back the catapaults loaded rocks and burning pitch onto their cradles.

Joan raised her sword.

"Lease!" She cried and with the twang of released tension, the catapaults flung their projectiles towards Berlin's walls. The heavier rocks smashed into the walls, some clearing them and crashing into buildings beyond. The burning pitch, much lighter and able to achieve greater range smashed into the buildings, spilling burning liquid over the thatch roofing, setting the German city alight.

"Reload!" Joan ordered.

As the French catapaults reloaded, German ones inside the city responded and rocks and pitch was inbound.

"Incoming!" Joan shouted. The army parted for the incoming projectiles, but there was no way for everybody to get out of the way. Screams rose from along the French lines as people were set alight by flames. Those that got hit by rocks did not get much chance to make a noise. Joan realised that the French army was as much a lucrative target to the Germans as their city was to the French.

"I want a breach in their walls." Joan ordered. "Use only rocks. All catapaults fire at will."

The constant sounds of firing catapaults filled the air as the catapault parties fired and loaded, fired and loaded. A continuous stream of rocks smashed into the city walls and slowly but surely, they began to crumble under the barrage.

"Come on, come on." Joan said to herself. "Fall, give us a door."

Another return barrage from the Germans crashed into the French ranks, but Joan watched with pride as nobody broke and ran. The catapaults roared again and were quickly matched by a different type of roar as her army cheered.

With a long, deep rumble, a section of the high walls of Berlin began to sag before collapsing completely, leaving a large breech in the walls.

"Forward!" Joan ordered and as one, the French army began to march towards their objective. Swordsmen and spearmen formed the front ranks while the swift horsemen prepared for a lightning strike from the flanks. Finally, the archers brought up the rear, firing as the marched.

Enemy archer fire began to fall like a new plague amongst the French soldiers as they came under range of the German bowmen, but like an unstoppable wave, the French army kept marching forward.

Within a hundred metres of the wall, German troops spilled out through the breach. Joan smiled slightly. The Germans had just made a grevious tactical error. As they charged the French formation, the front formation split apart and archers with drawn bows fired into the advancing enemy. At such close range, they could not miss. The Germans fell like wheat before a scythe and demoralised, they were set upon by the French swordsmen. The clash of steel and grunts of fighting men filled the air as the French troops made short work of the Germans.

The French army flowed into Berlin, streaming past the walls and filling the streets with shouting men. German soldiers rushed to meet them. Joan blocked a high-hack from a German swordsmen before elbowing him in the face and then bringing her own sword down and liberating him of his own legs.

With flawless swordsmanship, Joan twirled through the battle, her polished blade glinting from the sun as she swept through troops at an astonishing rate. Her men did not follow her simply because she was born into the right lineage. No, they followed her because she could fight and she could lead.

The German soldiers slowly fell back, quickly becoming outnumbered. But the French were no longer enmasse either, having split into pre-arranged sub-armies tasked with subduing the city and bringing it under French control. German archers, positioned in buildings, were chased down and killed. Marksmen archers for the French came up and picked off troops, archers and officers as the French progressed.

They reached the inner wall of the city quickly and it was here that Joan had thought the attack might stall, but the inner wall was no more than a cracked remnant of its former self. Joan summised that it had once been the city's original wall, but only the occassional support pillar and crumbling masonary was left to show that it had ever existed.

"Forward!" Joan yelled. The German troops were falling back quicker now, trying to form a last bastion at the palace and the quicker they fell back, the harder the French troops pressed their advantage.

The palace rose from the city before Joan, rare blackstone absorbing the sunlight, majestic in its size and architecture. All around the base of the palace and visible throughout the ramparts were thousands of German troops. Joan called a halt, allowing her troops to gather for the final offensive. As she waited, she sized up the palace. It had never been designed to be a stronghold. It was decorative. The inner wall was supposed to be protecting the inner city and palace, but the Germans, complacent in their over-confidence, had let that fall to the wayside.

It did not take long for the various army components to reach the palace at the centre of Berlin. With centuries of built up anger and resentment, the French army literally roared at the German palace, like an enraged mythical beast, ready to crush all before it.

"Attack!" Joan screamed. Even though there was no way her voice would reach every troop's ears, the sight of their fellow soldiers charging up the steps surrounding the palace would be sign enough.

Like a swarm of insects, the French army ascended the steps of the palace, covering it like a blanket. Arrows whizzed through the air, suddenly sprouting from the chests of nearby soldiers. Joan screamed and yelled as she ran up the steps, her sword raised high. He troops, roaring their own war cry followed close on her heels.

German foot soldiers appeared at the top of the steps, ready to meet the French onslaught, but they were not Persian warriors and lacked the finely tuned instincts that the Persian soldiers had, and they were grossly out numbered. The German soldiers managed to hold back the first wave, but the second wave smashed into them and they crumbled. Screaming men fell beneath the roaring onslaught of the French.

Joan ran through the passages of the palace. The structured defence the Germans has layed out fell to pieces mere minutes into the fight as the sheer numerical superiority of the French crushed any resistance with ease.

Joan slowed to a walk as she approached the throne room door. Unsuprisingly, it was locked and barred.

"Burn it." She ordered a nearby soldier. Oil was brought forward and placed liberally over the entire door. They moved back as an archer lit an arrow and fired it. With a deafening whoof, the door ignited.

The heat beat at Joan's face as they patiently waited for the door's integrity to reach a point where it could be knocked in. More and more troops were arriving as the palace steadily came under French control. Finally, she ordered a ram be brought up. Two swings of the ram and the flaming door fell inwards.

Stepping lightly through the flames, Joan emerged into throne room. Instinctively, she blocked an incoming sword to her right, raising her own sword above her head to fend the blow. She grunted as her muscles strained under the blow. Dropping her shoulder, he knocked her would-be assailant off-balance, giving herself enough time to drive her sword into the attacker's chest. The German soldier let out a startled hiss before collapsing on the floor. Joan spun around, but saw her own troops taking care of a second German soldier.

Cloak billowing behind her, Joan walked through the smoke and the throne loomed out of it. Seated upon it was Bismark, looking calmly at Joan as she walked forward.

"Baroness." Bismark said. "You dare approach the King after such a disgraceful display?"

"You are no King, Bismark." Joan said.

"Regardless," continued Bismark, "what is your purpose?"

"My purpose is to provide redemption for the centuries of dishonour that the French have had to suffer." Joan answered.

"You throw me in the dungeons and I will escape." Bismark said. "I will rise greater than you could imagine."

"You overrate your importance." Joan said, sneering her contempt.

"And you overrate your troop's loyalty." Bismark said, returning the sneer.

It took a moment for Joan to comprehend what was just said.

"No." Joan said, her eyes widening.

"Take her." Bismark said, flicking his fingers with disdain.

Joan turned to General la Fayette, who smashed her in the face with the pummel of his sword.

As vision left her, Joan heard Bismark speak to General la Fayette.

"Welcome back to the French-Germans General."
__________________
Oooh! Pretty flashing red button! * PUSH *
WTE_OzWolf is offline  
Old September 18, 2002, 08:16   #14
civman2000
Civilization III Democracy GameCivilization II Democracy GameNationStatesNever Ending StoriesDiplomacyInterSite Democracy Game: Apolyton TeamPtWDG RoleplayC3C IDG: Apolyton Team
Emperor
 
civman2000's Avatar
 
Local Time: 22:04
Local Date: October 31, 2010
Join Date: May 2001
Location: of the Martian Empire
Posts: 4,969
! Keep this up!
__________________
Ham grass chocolate.

"This should be the question they ask you before you get to vote. If you answer 'no', then they brand you with a giant red 'I' on your forehead and you are forever barred from taking part in the electoral process again."--KrazyHorse
"I'm so very glad KH is Canadian."--Donegeal
civman2000 is offline  
Old September 18, 2002, 20:19   #15
dnassman
Warlord
 
dnassman's Avatar
 
Local Time: 14:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Sep 2001
Location: Melbourne, Australia
Posts: 178
This is truly awesome. Well worth coming back to the stories forum.
dnassman is offline  
Old September 23, 2002, 19:54   #16
ChrisiusMaximus
Civilization III PBEMApolyton Storywriters' GuildCivilization III Democracy GameC3CDG Blood Oath HordeC4DG The HordeC4BtSDG Rabbits of CaerbannogCiv4 SP Democracy GameCivilization IV PBEMC4WDG éirich tuireann
Emperor
 
ChrisiusMaximus's Avatar
 
Local Time: 05:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: Staffordshire England
Posts: 8,321
Quite a twist there,making sure were awake eh?

Excellent stuff.
__________________
A proud member of the "Apolyton Story Writers Guild".There are many great stories at the Civ 3 stories forum, do yourself a favour and visit the forum. Lose yourself in one of many epic tales and be inspired to write yourself, as I was.
ChrisiusMaximus is offline  
Old September 28, 2002, 08:15   #17
WTE_OzWolf
Warlord
 
WTE_OzWolf's Avatar
 
Local Time: 04:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Sep 2001
Location: Australia
Posts: 122
Just a quick chapter to introduce the Romans into the storyline.

Wars & Politics

Caeser’s cold stare followed the English envoy as he left the Roman throne room. Caeser waited until he was sure the man was out of earshot before turning to his Master-of-Arms.

“Make sure he does not leave the city.” Caeser said. “Ever.”

“Do you think that is wise, m’lord?” Caeser’s political advisor asked. “You might anger the English.”

“I do not care what the English think.” Caeser replied. “They have too much to deal with at the moment with the French, the Franco-Germans and the Americans. Elizabeth’s feeble attempt at an alliance is pitiful at the most.”

“But it could have been helpful.” The advisor offered. Caeser’s stare was cold and without mercy.

“If you keep advising me that way, you will join your predecessor.” Caeser said. “I respect honest advice but not foolish advice. Do you really wish to side with the English, who have effectively angered every faction in recent years, us included?”

“I have not forgotten the insult Elizabeth offered you upon the last time you visited London.” The advisor said. “However, you may have been able to get close enough to Elizabeth to gain claim to her lands when they finally fell. You may have even been able to sneak an army into her territory.”

Caeser’s smile in response held absolutely no humour. The advisor swallowed visibly.

“Maybe there is hope for you yet.” Caeser said. “However, as tempting as the promise of taking English lands is, cuddling up to that foul serpent Elizabeth will upset our plans with the Egyptians.”

“Yes, that is a drawback.” The advisor sighed. “Cleopatra definitely has an infatuation with you. I do not doubt for a minute that she would become jealous.”

“Definitely no doubt.” Caeser said musing. “But eventually, our plans with the Egyptians will have to come to fruition soon. You can only stand alongside someone long enough before they notice the knife moving towards their back.”

“And you do wield the largest knife in the Kingdom.” The advisor commented with pride.

“You flatter us too much.” Caeser said. “I’m afraid Prince Xerses has that honour. The Persians have always filled the bulk of the Kingdom’s armies.”

“Then why doesn’t he use that power while he still holds it?” The advisor asked. Caeser shook his head at the irony of giving his advisor advice.

“Because Xerses is proving nothing like his father and nothing like everybody expects a Persian leader to be.” Caeser said. “For over a hundred years, the Persians proved to be compulsive and reckless, often attacking against insurmountable odds and winning I might add. But that type of warfare does not promote a long lifespan for the soldier or their army.”

Caeser paused.

“No, Xerses has figured out that if he starts throwing his power around now, he will be the greatest threat to all of the other factions and regardless of who they are fighting with, everybody will change direction simply to dispose of a threat that they could not remove on their own.” Caeser observed. “He is wary and rightfully so. If the other factions smash against each other enough, the Persians will be left standing with nobody else capable of touching them. And no one faction can invade Persian territory and hope to survive.”

Caeser sighed.

“Unless the other leaders recognize the Persian threat, Xerses may well be the next king.” He summised. “Maybe not a totally bad thing, but it does little to help our aspirations.”

“Xerses appeared the least likely to take the throne out of all the faction leaders.” The advisor chimed in. “What makes you think he will suddenly make a push for King?”

“Because he does not believe any other faction leader is righteous enough to sit on the throne.” Caeser held up his hand, stalling his advisor. “And before you heap praise on me, I have a tendency to agree. Xerses does not even trust Alexander fully. I doubt anyone has truly observed it, but even though Xerses appears to be open with Alexander, I sense that he has to check himself and holds back on certain conversation. No, Xerses is not to be underestimated.”

Caeser flicked his fingers.

“Now, leave me.” He commanded. “I need to think on our next move.”
__________________
Oooh! Pretty flashing red button! * PUSH *
WTE_OzWolf is offline  
Old September 29, 2002, 23:33   #18
dnassman
Warlord
 
dnassman's Avatar
 
Local Time: 14:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Sep 2001
Location: Melbourne, Australia
Posts: 178
I hope we don't have to wait too long for more.
dnassman is offline  
Old September 30, 2002, 00:23   #19
Kingof the Apes
Civilization III Democracy Game
Prince
 
Kingof the Apes's Avatar
 
Local Time: 20:04
Local Date: October 31, 2010
Join Date: Feb 2002
Location: Call me KOTA
Posts: 365
Very good!!!!

Joan seems like a potential ally for the Persians....
__________________
I'm going to rub some stakes on my face and pour beer on my chest while I listen Guns'nRoses welcome to the jungle and watch porno. Lesbian porno.
Supercitzen Pekka
Kingof the Apes is offline  
Old November 2, 2002, 18:03   #20
ChrisiusMaximus
Civilization III PBEMApolyton Storywriters' GuildCivilization III Democracy GameC3CDG Blood Oath HordeC4DG The HordeC4BtSDG Rabbits of CaerbannogCiv4 SP Democracy GameCivilization IV PBEMC4WDG éirich tuireann
Emperor
 
ChrisiusMaximus's Avatar
 
Local Time: 05:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: Staffordshire England
Posts: 8,321
Ozwolf its been an awfully long time since you updated this story, are you still active on poly? havnt noticed you around for a while.
If you see this please give us some more
__________________
A proud member of the "Apolyton Story Writers Guild".There are many great stories at the Civ 3 stories forum, do yourself a favour and visit the forum. Lose yourself in one of many epic tales and be inspired to write yourself, as I was.
ChrisiusMaximus is offline  
Old November 3, 2002, 23:55   #21
Easthaven I
Prince
 
Easthaven I's Avatar
 
Local Time: 22:04
Local Date: October 31, 2010
Join Date: Oct 2002
Posts: 771
Where in the world is Ozwolf! He needs to continue with this story, man! It was good. And I want to read more. He better get his *** back here soon. lol
Easthaven I is offline  
Old November 4, 2002, 01:20   #22
steamthunk
Chieftain
 
steamthunk's Avatar
 
Local Time: 23:04
Local Date: October 31, 2010
Join Date: May 2002
Location: Boston, Massachusetts
Posts: 99
Yeah, what they said! This story had some of the better battle scenes that I've read here.
steamthunk is offline  
Old December 17, 2002, 01:28   #23
WTE_OzWolf
Warlord
 
WTE_OzWolf's Avatar
 
Local Time: 04:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Sep 2001
Location: Australia
Posts: 122
King & Queens, Pawns & Pieces

Slowly, Baron Abraham Lincoln picked his way through the remnants of the recent battle between the American and English clans. Bodies covered the ground like a carpet; both sides had payed a heavy price. But the English had paid the ultimate price, eventually surrendering their northern borders and fleeing south.

"Too easy." Lincoln commented dryly. "Much too easy."

He returned to his horse and climbed up onto its back and headed south, back through a forest towards his encampment. He always surveyed his conquests alone, basking in the triumph they brought the American clan. He especially enjoyed this one, seeing the almighty English defeated. He chuckled to himself. At the rate his armies were moving into the English territories, he would have London under American control in no time.

The cold steel of an arrowhead pressed up against his neck told him he was not alone. He pushed back the fear and surprise clawing at his stomach. He had not even felt the man behind him get on his horse. Obviously a well trained assassin.

"Too easy." A voice said, a distinct mockery of Lincoln's earlier comment, though sounding strange said with a deep, English accent. "Much too easy."

"My soldiers know where I am." Lincoln said, slowly lifting his hands above his head, clearing them of the sword he carried.

"Not for long." A second voice said. The person on the back of his horse had yet to speak. Obviously an excellently trained assassin. The only way Lincoln knew that he was there was by the constant pressure of the arrow against his spine. Speaking would give Lincoln an idea of where the assassin was himself.

"Off the horse." The second voice ordered. The pressure on the back of Lincoln's neck disappeared. For a brief second, he considered spurring his horse forward, but the appearance of two black clad soldiers with black swords blocking his path stopped him. That and the fact that his temporary riding partner most likely still had an arrow trained at his back.

Sighing his resignation, Lincoln slid off of his horse. He turned and got his first look at his assailants. The man standing before him wore black also, though he wasn't brandishing any weapons. Like the two that had blocked Lincoln's path, he was slight. He wore chainmail and had covered his face in soot. In fact, if the man had not been standing on the path with him, Lincoln doubted he could have seen him in the surrounding forest.

Movement to his left caught Lincoln's attention as another man appeared, pointing an arrow straight at him with a steady hand. Obviously his passenger.

"Baron Lincoln." The man in front of him said, offering him a half bow that Lincoln believed was more mockery than show of respect. "You are now a prisoner of the English."

He identified the man in front of him as voice one.

Lincoln chuckled menacingly.

"You idiot." He said. "The American clan is crushing your people. Capturing me will do little."

"Oh how wrong you are." Said the second voice, rounding the front of his horse, grabbing him and yanking him off the road into the sudden darkness of the forest.

Lincoln struggled, but before he could shout, a gag was bound around him.

"Look," said voice two, "we can do this the hard way or the easy way."

Lincoln kept struggling, making it impossible for his kidnappers to move him. Voice two simply shrugged.

"The hard way it is." He said, bringing his fist smashing across Lincoln's face. As his vision began to darken, voice two leant in closer. "Sweet dreams, Baron."

* * *

Bright sunlight washed across Lincoln's face. Reflexively, he reached up to block it but was stopped short by the manacles attaching his wrists to the wall behind hmi via a somewhat short chain.

The headache thumping inside his head refused to go away, as did the aching from his nose and lip. He could not breath through his nose, leading him to believe it was broken and he knew his lip was split simply by running a tongue over it.

From the sunlight, voice two spoke.

"I'd ask him to rise m'lady, but his restraints won't allow him."

"That's quite all right." A cultured female voice said. Lincoln instantly recognised it and tried to sneer. Instead, it became a grimace as his lip protested loudly and painfully.

"My dear Abraham." Elizabeth said, looking down on him. "I am so sorry for this."

Abraham tried to decide if Elizabeth meant the war or the physical damage inflicted by her lackey. He decided to try the personal approach.

"He could learn a few manners." He said. "But obviously he has been taught in your own image."

Elizabeth's eyebrows arched in amusement and mock puzzlement.

"Still full of insults, even as you lay there, tied to the wall?" She asked, a small smile playing across her lips.

"Taking me will do little to help you." He replied. "The American clan will still annex your own."

"Ah," Elizabeth said, all knowing, "that is where you are wrong. You see, some clans require the leadership of their rightful rulers. Without them, they flounder or lose direction. The American clan was nothing before you inherited your position and it will once again become nothing.

"But come. I have something to show you."

Lincoln was lifted and dragged through dark passages and up winding stairs. The only thing he saw was the hem of Elizabeth's dress, rustling softly on the floor in front of him.

Finally, they came to a stop.

"Thankyou so much for the tour of your castle's inner dungeons Elizabeth." Lincoln said. "Now, if you excuse me, I think it's time for my nap."

"Don't be a fool Abe." Elizabeth said. A door swung open and the hot, stifling air of London smacked Abe in the face. He was dragged forward until he was on a balcony. His "carriers" lifted him onto his feet. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the day, his stomach turned to ice. Before him, arrayed in ranks that disappeared into the hazy distance, was an army the likes and size he had never seen.

Everywhere was the glint of polished armour. Thousands of armoured warhorse stood perfectly still, the angry swishes of the horses' tails the only sign of movement. In front of them stood the equally impressive sworsdmen, burly men ready to crush anything in their path. Pikemen filled the area nearest to Lincoln. Their long spikes stood in perfect formation, family and English standards waving limply in the heavy air. The faint outlines of catapaults could just be seen in the hazy distance.

There was no hope the American armies could stop this.

"Of course," Elizabeth said, mockery in her voice, "if the Americans do not roll over as quickly as I think they will, we can just beat them to death."

Lincoln knew she was right. He shoulders slumped.

"Your clan is not the only one who suffers from being too reliant on its leader." Elizabeth continued. "The French suffered from it and now cower on their island. Your clan will either join us or be destroyed. And there is one more."

Lincoln's head rose, eyes showing his realisation.

"The Persians." He said. "You intend to take Xerses."

"Oh, I intend to take more than just Xerses, my dear Abraham." Elizabeth crowed. "I intend to take his entire army."
__________________
Oooh! Pretty flashing red button! * PUSH *

Last edited by WTE_OzWolf; December 17, 2002 at 16:48.
WTE_OzWolf is offline  
Old December 17, 2002, 01:41   #24
Easthaven I
Prince
 
Easthaven I's Avatar
 
Local Time: 22:04
Local Date: October 31, 2010
Join Date: Oct 2002
Posts: 771
Praise the lord! He has returned!





Took you long enough....
Easthaven I is offline  
Old December 17, 2002, 03:19   #25
ChrisiusMaximus
Civilization III PBEMApolyton Storywriters' GuildCivilization III Democracy GameC3CDG Blood Oath HordeC4DG The HordeC4BtSDG Rabbits of CaerbannogCiv4 SP Democracy GameCivilization IV PBEMC4WDG éirich tuireann
Emperor
 
ChrisiusMaximus's Avatar
 
Local Time: 05:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: Staffordshire England
Posts: 8,321
Superb and what Easthaven said, but well worth the wait!!
__________________
A proud member of the "Apolyton Story Writers Guild".There are many great stories at the Civ 3 stories forum, do yourself a favour and visit the forum. Lose yourself in one of many epic tales and be inspired to write yourself, as I was.
ChrisiusMaximus is offline  
Old December 18, 2002, 23:04   #26
WTE_OzWolf
Warlord
 
WTE_OzWolf's Avatar
 
Local Time: 04:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Sep 2001
Location: Australia
Posts: 122
Shaking the Foundations

Xerses stood outside his tent as the sky began to brighten in the east. Normally he would see this a good omen, but considering how far west they were, the sight was merely unsettling. Shaking his head ruefully, Xerses went back to practicing his sword strokes. The polished blade sliced through the damp air of the morning, almost singing in his hands. His practice was interrupted by the appearance of Lord Alexander outside his own tent not far away.

"Xerses," Alexander said, good cheer on his face, "do you never rest? You carry one of the finest swords in the land. Why must you always practice?"

"Because without practice, I will lose my edge, much like how a sword will lost its edge without regular sharpening." Xerses said, resuming his practice. Alexander walked over and took a seat nearby.

Alexander watched in silence as Xerses got back into the full swing of his training, the sword whistling through the air with precision. Finally, with sweat poaring from him and his breath coming in hoarse gasps, Xerses stopped.

"Very impressive to watch, my friend." Alexander said. "I just hope you have not worn yourself out for today."

"Do no fear, my lord." Xerses replied, sheathing his sword. "The English shall not have the same luck against us as they did against the Americans."

"Yes," Alexander mused, "it was unfortunate that Lincoln got captured. Without his leadership, the American clan is floundering. The English may yet annex the Americans as their own."

Upon the sudden the increase of power that the English had achieved, Alexander and Xerses had agreed to combine an army and head west to take the English down a peg. For two weeks the army had crossed through western Greece and mid-way across England before news had reached them that the greater part of England's army had been redirected to take on the Persian-Greek threat. As far as Xerses scouts could figure out, the English army would be in position today.

"I believe it is time to get our army ready." Xerses said, turning and picking up his armour. "Shall we?"

Alexander rose and offered a half-bow before heading off to organise the Greek contingent. Xerses busied himself preparing his strategies and prepping his army.

* * *

Even Xerses had to admit that the English army standing before them was impressive. Armoured warhorse supported by armoured soldiers was something that always struck feer into an enemy, but Xerses knew that the English were fighting no mere enemy today. They were facing the Persians, the warrior clan of the Great Kingdom. For centuries, the Persians had supplied the bulk of the Kingdom's standing army and Persian immortals were now one of the most feared units in the Great Kingdom.

"I do not intend to negotiate anything today." Xerses said. Alexander looked at him sideways. "The English do not deserve the crown and we will ensure they can't achieve it."

Alexander nodded.

"I suggest sending the hoplites in as a defensive line first." Alexander said. "Their superior defensive skills will mean that your troops will last just that little bit longer before entering battle completely."

Xerses nodded, then signalled to a nearby soldier. He called out, and the Persian troops all turned and knelt before Xerses.

"To our warrior god, we give thanks for his guidance and ask that he once again shine fortune and luck onto us during the coming battle." Xerses called, raising his sword.

The Persian soldiers rose again and resumed their positions.

"Luck my friend?" Alexander asked bemused. "You have said this before to your warrior god, yet I do not believe luck plays a part in battles. Skill, knowledge foresight do."

Xerses smiled tightly.

"Luck always has a place in battle, Alexander." Xerses said, before spurring his horse forward and taking up position in front of his own troops.

A drum began to beat from within the Greek ranks and in lock-step, the hoplites who formed the forward line began to march forward. Xerses waited to give them a comfortable lead before beginning the advance of his own army forward.

A mile of open plains seperated the two armies, and the trek was drawn out as both advancing armies paced themselves, not willing to break into a full run. The Greek hoplites kept up their rythmic lock-step march, always advancing like a human wall towards the oncoming English.

As the hoplites neared the English, they lowered their spears, but Xerses eyes began to narrow in suspicion as the English did not charge as was customary. As the suspicion began to blossom, Xerses raised his hand, halting the Persian army...and in perfect unison, the Greek hoplites reversed direction, now leading the English army back towards the Persians.

Xerses looked over his shoulder and saw the second wave of Greek soldiers closing in on the rear of the Persians. He checked the flanks and saw there was no way for his army to retreat that direction before the enemy were upon them. Xerses whispered a prayer to the warrior god before raising his sword.

"Attack!" He yelled, spurring his horse forward towards the Greek and English armies.

Up on the hill behind the battle, Alexander look puzzled.

"What is he doing?" He asked a general.

"Look's like he has reverted to the old ways of Persian soldiery." The general commented.

"Don't be stupid." Alexander scowled. "Xerses is not like any other Persian leader. The smart option was for him to reverse his army and try to break free through our second wave. It is numerically smaller than the English group. What is he playing at?"

The general did not reply.

Alexanders eyes narrowed as he watched the battle unfold. There was something going on here that he didn't know about.

Suddenly, something exploded amongst his second army. Bodies, dirt and weapons were flung everywhere. A second explosion smashed into his soldiers, closely followed by a third.

"They have catapaults!" Alexander cursed. "General, get somebody to find those weapons. We could lose our objective if we don't stop this."

The Greeks at the rear of the Persians began to falter. Their ranks were scattered and they still came under fire from the catapaults.

With as much precision as the Greek hoplites had done, the Persian army reversed direction, now charging at the disorientated Greeks. Alexander could see that the Persians would break free.

"I really didn't want to tip anybody off to this, but second in the the second army." Alexander said, degection in his voice. "A remember, we need Xerses alive."

Within the battle, Xerses had been knocked off his horse a long time ago. Rage filled his mind as he slashed at Greek soldiers. It was obvious his mis-givings were true. He was just glad he had smuggled those siege engineers in. The catapaults might just give his army a chance to escape.

Xerses' blade flashed through the battle in a deceptive recital of the moves he had practiced that morning. Men screamed as they fell before him. Like any battle, the strategy was gone as it became a simple slugging match. Hoplites fended off Persian soldiers with their long spears and heavy shields, while immortals flashed through the ranks, using speed and cunning to outwit their opponents into a mistake. English armoured horse simply obliterated anything in their path, while the Persian scouts had long since been vanquished, caught in the middle of a foot soldier battle.

Xerses fought on instinct, not thought. Feeling where his next potential threat was coming from and striking at it before it could strike at him. Various knicks and cuts covered his body from a number of close calls, but Xerses did not register any of the pain. The anger of betrayal burned deep within him. When he got a chance, Xerses saw that the surviving Persian soldiers all had that same look in their eyes.

An English swordsman appeared in front of him. Xerses swung his sword high, but his opponent deftly blocked it before reversing his sword and making his own strike. Xerses side-stepped and the English sword pierced empty air. With a quick swat, Xerses knocked the enemies sword downwards, a blow that generally disarms an enemy, but this one kept control of his sword. Xerses pressed his attack, his sword flashing at blinding speed in at the English swordsman, but he deflected each thrust with ease. The Englishman counter-attacked, pressing closer and closer to Xerses. Xerses held off each attack, losing a little ground with each thrust, but otherwise holding his own.

Suddenly, a passing horse knocked Xerses from behind, sending him off balance. With a quick flick, Xerses sword spun out of his hand and over the heads of other soldiers into the distance. His dueling partner shoved him to the ground. Xerses lay there, knowing his fight, and his life was over. He waited calmly as the Englishman raised his sword to strike. Xerses awaited his fate.

The Englishman's eyes suddenly went wide and a hoplite's spear protruded from his chest. The sword that was going to strike down Xerses clattered uselessly to the ground. The spear pointed downwards and the Englishman slid off and was dumped unceremoniously to the ground. A Greek soldier looked down at Xerses. Xerses tried to get up, but the Greek hoplite pushed him back down with his foot then pointed the spear straight at Xerses throat. The Persian leader simply sighed in resignation.

Xerses watched the rest of the battle unfold around him. His troops were still fighting valiantly and were getting ever closer to the open spaces behind the armies when he saw the wave of Greek soldiers crest the hill. Xerses had managed to smuggle siege engineers into this battle, but Alexander had smuggled an entire army. He was never going to win this battle.

"Surrender!" Xerses shouted. "I command you to surrender."

No use getting his men pointlessly slaughtered. Slowly, but surely, the command rippled through the battle and Persian troops threw down their weapons. When finally it was over, his captures dragged him to his feet and took him to Alexander. Xerses' eyes met Alexander's and he had the satisfaction of seeing the Greek leader flinch away from the anger radiating from him.

"Xerses." Alexander said, his genial mood no longer present. "Such hatred. It is bad for the soul."

"You set us up." Xerses said in a low growl.

"Yes, I did." Alexander replied. "There are those of us that should rule and those of us that should follow. You, my friend, are a follower. The fact that I could lead you around by the nose is proof of that."

"What do you hope to gain from all of this?" Xerses said.

"Oh, quite simple actually." Alexander said. "While I control you, I control the Persian armies. They will follow me because you follow me."

"I will never follow you, Alexander." Xerses stated. "Not now, not ever."

"Ah, but you will." Alexander said. "If you do not declare your allegiance to myself and Elizabeth, I will not kill you, I will kill your people."

Xerses straightened.

"You wouldn't." He said.

"I would." Alexander said. "They're either an army for Elizabeth and myself or they are dead. Simple as that."

"If you try to enslave them, they will rise against you. The will not fight for you under duress."

"Then they will die." Alexander said. "They have no leader who is anywhere near as good as you. Without that leadership, the Persian armies will be easy pickings. Make your choice."

Xerses' head dipped before he looked Alexander straight in the eye.

"I will do as you say." He said. "But know this: you're not the only one that can play this game."

"Excellent!" Alexander said. "Take him away."

As Xerses was lead away, Alexander had a sense of foreboding. He couldn't figure out why. He had exactly everything he wanted. The Persian army as his own, a powerful alliance and his biggest threat his prisoner. Then why, if everything was going so well, did he feel that he had walked squarely into the hands of the Persian Prince?
__________________
Oooh! Pretty flashing red button! * PUSH *
WTE_OzWolf is offline  
Old December 19, 2002, 03:21   #27
ChrisiusMaximus
Civilization III PBEMApolyton Storywriters' GuildCivilization III Democracy GameC3CDG Blood Oath HordeC4DG The HordeC4BtSDG Rabbits of CaerbannogCiv4 SP Democracy GameCivilization IV PBEMC4WDG éirich tuireann
Emperor
 
ChrisiusMaximus's Avatar
 
Local Time: 05:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: Staffordshire England
Posts: 8,321
my word what a load of evil minded self obsessed leaders you have in this story. So many twists and deceptions to feed the readers mind.
__________________
A proud member of the "Apolyton Story Writers Guild".There are many great stories at the Civ 3 stories forum, do yourself a favour and visit the forum. Lose yourself in one of many epic tales and be inspired to write yourself, as I was.
ChrisiusMaximus is offline  
Old January 16, 2003, 18:42   #28
ChrisiusMaximus
Civilization III PBEMApolyton Storywriters' GuildCivilization III Democracy GameC3CDG Blood Oath HordeC4DG The HordeC4BtSDG Rabbits of CaerbannogCiv4 SP Democracy GameCivilization IV PBEMC4WDG éirich tuireann
Emperor
 
ChrisiusMaximus's Avatar
 
Local Time: 05:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Jul 2002
Location: Staffordshire England
Posts: 8,321
Any chance of getting some more ?

From one of your fans
__________________
A proud member of the "Apolyton Story Writers Guild".There are many great stories at the Civ 3 stories forum, do yourself a favour and visit the forum. Lose yourself in one of many epic tales and be inspired to write yourself, as I was.
ChrisiusMaximus is offline  
Old January 30, 2003, 07:14   #29
VaaQ
Settler
 
Local Time: 04:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Jan 2003
Location: Espoo, Suomi-Finland
Posts: 3
I've read every one of your stories and i simply love them. I've printed them all up and made covers (just the story's name and author's name, no fancy artworki'm afraid ) for them and put them in my bookshelf. They're really great stuff to read!

So please write more?
VaaQ is offline  
Old February 3, 2003, 15:37   #30
EQandCivfanatic
Apolyton Storywriters' Guild
Chieftain
 
Local Time: 04:04
Local Date: November 1, 2010
Join Date: Jul 2002
Posts: 75
i saw this on civfanatics, i hope you add more
__________________
I am a prisoner on a ship of fools.
EQandCivfanatic is offline  
 

Bookmarks

Thread Tools

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is On

Forum Jump


All times are GMT -4. The time now is 00:04.


Design by Vjacheslav Trushkin, color scheme by ColorizeIt!.
Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.8.2
Copyright ©2000 - 2010, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.
Apolyton Civilization Site | Copyright © The Apolyton Team