When the last section came to a close, Hiawatha had just declared war against me for some bizarre reason that only the AI could understand (I can always speculate with my fictional sections though). I was faced with war against multiple opponents in this game for the first time, as the German fight also continued, but it was certainly something that I could handle. I was already well on my way to dominating the world at this point, after all. Something else occured in 1170AD that I should mention: England, the world tech leader, jumped into the Industrial Age. I was running out of time if I wanted to achieve domination before the advent of rifles and hospitals bogged down my armies. Time to move, and move fast.
On the next turn, Bonn unexpectedly flipped back to Germany. I turned around several of my keshiks that were heading north to be ferried over to Iroquois territory and reoccupied the city with ease. If it flipped a second time, I vowed to raze it to the ground. Across the sea, I captured Salzburg from Bismarck on the small island to the east of mainland Germany. My bad luck continued to hold as Salzburg then flipped back in 1200AD. Gee whiz, this really sucks! Of course, in reality I was simply getting bad rolls from the number generator. I had no more flips the rest of the game while operating in very similar fashion when it came to safeguarding against flips. Dortmund was also taken from Bis in 1200AD, and my forces on the island turned around and headed back to Salzburg again. It was taken back in 1220AD, and then I moved on the final Germany city within a thousand miles. Brandenburg was taken in 1255AD, leaving Otto with two tiny tundra cities on the island to the north of Mongolia; he ceded one of them to me in the peace treaty that I signed at that time. Bismarck was reduced to doing some OCC action, and I was back to war with only a single opponent.
Meanwhile, my war against the Iroquois had been going on at the same time. The first force of invaders, made up of 11 cavalry, landed on their island in 1230AD. They faced some light counterattacks from archers (?!), which did minor damage but didn't kill of my units. My cavs immediately razed the city of Allegheny in 1240AD, as at size 12 it was too much of a flip risk to keep. In the fighting to take the city, my fifth leader appeared!
This image has been lost.
What are the Iroquois doing with all those spears? I don't know, but they weren't much of a threat. They were more like leader bait for my elite cavalry, which quickly were growing in number against such weak opponents. I used leader #5 to grab another wonder and kill the cascade; he went back to Moscow to rush Newton's University. I never ran even 10% research again, but better I have the wonder and not use it than someone else get it! Centralia was captured and not razed in 1250AD, giving me a foothold in Iroquois territory. It was defended by one pike and then a bunch of spears; is Hiawatha for real? This was just sad. No sooner had I rushed Newton's in 1260AD when another leader arose from the carnage outside of Centralia, leader #6!
I sent Mongke back to Moscow as well, this time to rush the Military Academy so that I could build more armies whenever I wished. No sooner had I used him in 1270AD, when leader #7 popped out. This was nothing short of an incredible run of leaders, even with the Heroic Epic. Rather than cart him back to the mainland, I rushed a library right there in Centralia... only to get ANOTHER leader on the same turn, leader #8! I didn't even take pictures of these last two, since I had gotten so many in such a short span. He went back to the mainland and rushed a bank in a fishing town that had tons of commerce but few shields. If I kept getting leaders at this rate, I would be in great shape.
The leader bonanza aside, I continued to fight my way through Iroquois territory. Akwesasne, a size 7 city, was razed in 1280AD. I had now converted my city with a grasslands wheat up on northern island into a settler factory to replace the Iroquois cities that I was razing. I also sent workers built essentially for free in corrupt Germany over to Centralia by ship, and then merged them into the city to rush (Mongol) settlers out of it. That was something I had never done before, and was very useful in getting settlers up to the front lines immediately before the advent of rails.
By 1285AD, I had decided that Wang Kon had been safe for too long. It was time to invade one of his little island strongholds and take away some more cities. War declared on Korea in 1285AD, resulting in this fun picture:
I forgot to mention that I had traded my way into the Industrial Age a few turns back; at this point, no one had any of the expensive new techs from that age (and no more scientific civs to get freebie ones either; I had taken care of the three scientific civs in the game already). Paegam was taken from Korea in 1290AD, Chonju in 1300AD. Cavalry against spears was not even a fair fight; this was beginning to feel like a Regent or even Warlord game, not much like an Emperor one. Peace was signed with Wang again in 1305AD, netting a third city called Sariwon up on northern island in the process. I was back to fighting a single foe again.
But the war against the Iroquois had not been stagnant; far from it, I was pressing forward on all fronts now that the wimpy counterattackers that Hiawatha could summon had all been killed. Salamanca was razed to the ground in 1295AD, forever crippling his civ. A refounded size one city of Caughnawaga was auto-razed the same year. Mauch Chuck was razed in 1310AD, Tonawana meeting the same fate the next turn in 1315AD. Oil Springs, being a small size 6 town, was captured and kept in 1325AD, bringing ivory under my control as well. I now had six native luxuries, including the wines that were also on the Iroquois island. I was also founding my own native cities in the former territory of the Iroquois; by 1325AD, three such cities had already been formed and were reclaiming the open land freed up by the razings of my army. Grand Rapid, the third Iroquois capital to fall, was razed in 1335AD. When I crested a rise of hills and looked down at the city of Niagra Falls, the fourth Iroquois capital in almost as many turns, I was met by a truly pitiful sight. Take a look:
They have no defenders better than a SPEAR in their capital! I had been fighting a lot of muskets, occasionally pikes, but never a spear as the top defender in a city. This was really a sign of the end for Hiawatha: he was gassed. Not enough money to upgrade the defenders in his cities, not enough production to produce new ones. The island city of Tyendenaga was a microcosm of the problem. It had been size six with a harbor, but Hiawatha's bankruptcy had resulted in the harbor being sold off. Then the need for entertainers in the city due to loss of luxuries and war weariness started to kick in with major starvation: size 5, size 4, size 3... it would be down to size 1 by the time my forces reached it. A very sad sight indeed, that of a civ falling apart at the seams.
Niagra Falls was taken easily in 1340AD (many of those cavs did have movement points left). St. Regis was razed in 1350AD and Cattaraugus captured in 1355AD. That left only the island fort of Tyendenaga still holding out, which unlike the island colonies of other civs was well within reach of my forces. My cavalry landed in force on the island, and, well, that was it for Hiawatha and his merry band:
So now my civ was finally at peace after centuries at war, right? But no! 1355AD had seen 20 turns of peace go by with Germany, so I redeclared on Bismarck and prepared to take his final city. I captured his final city (amusingly called New Berlin) in 1365AD only to find that the crustly old guy was still alive. He must have a settler on a boat somewhere! Grrr... Peace was once again signed with Bismarck (it was making the Germans in my territory unhappy) until I could find the location of the ship. But in 1365AD I finally reached peace, right? Right?
What's this? In 1360AD, the Vikings landed a warrior and a medieval infantry onto one of my island colonies in the east, clearly planning to attack. I swear to everyone out there that I did NOT bait the AI in any way; they just happened to choose exactly the turn that I killed the Iroquois to sneak-attack me. Can you believe this? Everyone wants a piece of Temujin! You'd think that they would have learned by now not to mess with me! Well OK Ragnar, I was planning to go after Joanie next but if you want to take me on, I'm more than ready to go. But first, I might as well make a nice little deal for myself:
We all know that Nationalism is a very expensive tech in 1.29f Civ3 and in PTW, so I decided to grab it for free before asking Ragnar to get lost. Predictable as always, he declared war and canceled all the stuff I had going to him. The arrow points to the medieval infantry that landed on my three-tile island; the city of Ereen that I had there was defended only by a spear. He put up a brave fight, killing the MDI, but had only one hit point left and was slain by the warrior. Losing one of my cities to the Vikings? They will pay dearly for that!
With a whirl of colors, the bird dove from out of the sky to alight upon the branch of a tree, bringing a smile to Sven's face. Observing birds was one of his favorite hobbies back home, and he had spent many an afternoon in his boyhood watching the interplay of nature and its wildlife in the hills outside Copenhagen. Perhaps his fondness for observing other animals had led him to his current occupation, he thought to himself ruefully. After all, what was the job of an ambassador if not to watch the reactions of other men?
Glancing at the position of the sun in the sky on this beautiful cloudless day, Sven realized he could not afford to spend any more time at rest if he did not want to be late. He rose from his peaceful repose on the park bench and set out into the rest of the city. The enormous palace and seat of government for Mongolia where he was stationed was not far away, certainly not far enough for him to have requested a horse. As always when he walked the streets of Karakorum, Sven was struck again by the contrast between the green expanses of the People's Park and the rest of the city. In the streets, the wooden trunks of trees were replaced by dingy, poorly constructed flats where industrial workers eeked out a miserable existance. The proud Scandanavian emissary could not see how they lived in such an environment, with no room and even less privacy between families. In the distance he could see black smoke belching forth from the smokestacks of one of Karakorum's great factories, where thousands of cavalry rifles were produced daily. The whole city seemed to be covered with a layer of gritty soot that turned everything into a faded out shade of gray. Only the verdant stretches of the misnamed People's Park seemed able to resist the industrial grime, but few workers were able to visit its sanctuary while laboring under the 12-hour workdays that were endemic in Mongolia. It's no wonder that so many Mongol youths seek escape in the army, Sven thought reflectively. After all, they are already living in hell itself here. He hurried on down the large thoroughfare and tried not to notice the wan faces that stared after his well-fed body.
It was almost a relief to reach the palace, where at least the Mongols knew him by name and greeted him with the proper respect due to his station. Well, almost a relief; in order to enter the palace he had to pass by the grisly spectacle of the Wall of Pikes. As he did every other day, Sven pointedly avoided his eyes from the sight; he steadfastedly pretended that no such thing existed. In order to avoid the horrible sight, Sven concentrated on studying the palace as he entered. Karakorum was the most important city in the world simply due to the man who made his residence there, and even though it possessed no great wonders like fabled Trondheim or London, the city was said to possess an imposing atmosphere that was enough to take a visitor's breath away. The khan's palace was the best example of that truth, rising hundreds of feet in the air to form a solid mass of stone and concrete. There was nothing ornamental or garish about its architecture; the building was designed to house the government of the world's most powerful nation, but also to defend against attack if necessary. Sven couldn't repress a shudder as he passed by arrowslits in the walls and a murderhole overhead. The Mongols were far from a decorative people, and it showed in the building that symbolized their nation - and their leader.
The furnishings on the higher floors of the palace were fortunately more civilized, and racks of weapons were replaced by artwork on the walls and woven carpets on the floor. Sven knew that the paintings on display here were not the product of Mongol artisans but were instead works plundered from the ruins of Korea and Germany. Word on the streets had it that a shipment of fine weavings from the ashes of the Iroquois Confederacy were due to arrive within the next few days. Sven was grateful to finally reach his small office in a corner of the massive building, where he could tune out the repulsive customs of his Mongol hosts as much as possible. Sifting through his daily assortment of letters, he noticed that a wealthy Scandanavian family on holiday in the mountains near Smolensk had infringed upon Mongol law and were being held by the authorities. It was a case where the couple involved had broken a law that did not exist in Scandanvia, bringing up the prickly question of extraterritoriality. Sven sighed; this was going to take up most of his day to straighten out, and possibly longer than that if the Mongols were in a bad mood - which it seemed they almost always were.
His door banged open with a loud crash, startling Sven right out of his chair. A muscled Mongol guard with a pistol at his waist and a scabbard slung over his shoulder filled the entryway, with an expressionless set to his face. "The great khan wants to speak with you. You will come to see him now." It was not a question. Since coming of his own free will was preferable to being dragged by his hands and feet, Sven sighed and rose to his feet to follow the guard out of his office. Predictably, three more of them waited outside, with two leading the way and another two following behind Sven. It was a great sign of respect to be given such a guard of honor - or maybe he was simply under guard. With the Mongols, there was never any way to tell. Sven ran his hands through his beard and long hair nervously, wishing he had had time to comb them. Appearances could mean a great deal when it came to formal interviews. What could Temujin want to tell him?
The chamber that Temujin used to entertain formal visitors was only a short distance away from Sven's office, occupying one of the highest floors of the palace. Sven was left with three of the guards to wait in the anteroom while the last one went inside to announce to the khan that his guest had arrived. In the past, Sven had sometimes been left cooling his heels in this room for hours as the khan dealt with other business, but this time he was ushered into the chamber right away. That was either a very good or a very bad sign, but in any case it meant that something important was brewing. The room that Temujin used for meeting with high-ranking foreigners was as stark and simple as the rest of the palace. The walls were made from fine limestone and a crimson carpet covered most of the floor, but both lacked any ornamentation whatsoever. One large window looked out at the city below through panes of clear but unadorned glass. The only furnishing to the room was a massive desk of fine mahogany, polished until it shone like a beacon, currently cluttered with maps and reports of all sorts.
But it was to the man behind that desk that the eyes of any visitor would be drawn, and the sight of this imposing figure reduced everything and everyone else in the room to the status of mere background details. Ghengis Khan Temujin was far from an attractive man, with a face bordering on ugly crisscrossed with the white lines of old scars and a flattened nose that certainly appeared to have been broken at some time in the past. No one could remember how Temujin had received his old injuries, and no one had the courage to ask the khan themselves. He wore the same military uniform as the Mongol guards that followed Sven into the room, cut from somewhat finer material but differing only in one aspect, that of a small insignia emblasoned above the left breast of his coat. It depicted a gauntleted hand, extended upward into the air and clenched into a fist. No one was quite sure exactly what the symbol meant, or why Temujin had suddenly began wearing it one day, but people had started referring to it as 'Temujin's Fist' and using it as the national banner. It was an ominous shape, and Sven never felt entirely comfortable whenever he spotted it. There was just something so... sinister about it.
Upon hearing the entrance of Sven and his escort, Temujin looked up from one of the papers on his desk and smiled in greeting. "I see that my friend the Scandanavian ambassador is here. Please, come forward and set yourself at ease Sven." Temujin's grin revealed his famously chipped and broken teeth, something he did at all interviews to set his guests off guard; Sven was used to them by now, and was not noticeably affected. He would have liked to sit down, but of course no chair was offered or was even present in the room beyond the one the khan was seated in. Temujin received all emissaries standing in front of his desk like supplicant beggars while he remained comfortably seated. Other leaders could not afford to act so arrogant, but then again Temujin was the most powerful man on earth.
The overly friendly greeting worried Sven; Temujin was never kind to visitors unless he was planning on springing some kind of trap. Still, there was nothing he could do except play along with the other man. "I am pleased to meet with you once again, great khan," he said, coming forward to stand in front of the desk. "What would you have me do for you today? I hope that there is not a problem with the shipments leaving on schedule."
"Ah yes, the shipments," replied the khan. "That was certainly a great diplomatic triumph for you, Sven. A real feather in your cap, wasn't it?"
"Indeed it was," Sven answered, wondering where this conversation was going. "I hope that it will be the formation of a lasting peace between Mongolia and Scandanavia." He couldn't help but recall the furious events of the previous month, when he had hammered out a deal between Temujin and Ragnar when it seemed as though war was imminent between the two nations. Ragnar had agreed to provide the secrets of Nationalism to the Mongols in exchange for massive quantites of Mongol gems, furs, silks, wines, ivory, and even more gold. It was enough riches to ensure properity for Scandanavia for years to come, and it had truly been a great diplomatic triumph for Sven. The Viking scientists had arrived last week in Karakorum, and the first shipments of Mongol goods were due to leave any day now. It seemed likely that Temujin had called him here today to discuss something dealing with the shipments bound for Scandanavia.
"Peace? I hope for peace too Sven, but often it seems to be lacking when you most wish for it," answered Temujin reflectively. "I have tried to stay out of war for ages, but others keep seeking it out with my nation and my people. First the Germans, then the Iroquois tried to land on our soil and destroy our way of life. You don't blame me for striking back in defense, do you?"
"Of course not, great khan." Sven would have agreed to almost anything that Temujin said as long as it did not compromise his country. "Nations that come under attack have a right to defend themselves, even if that means fighting back on foreign soil."
"I'm glad to see that you agree with me," replied the khan easily, still grinning faintly. Suddenly the grin disappeared and his face flattened to a harsh stare directed right at Sven's face. He gasped and stepped back a pace without thinking; the eyes of the other man were like twin drills rooting him to the spot and determined to bore into his very soul. "Then what do you make of this!" said Temujin in a voice filled with cold fury just barely kept under control. He thrust a report from his desk into Sven's face and held it there for the ambassador to read.
Sven's jaw dropped as he considered the paper. It was a report from the city of Ereen, an eastern island colony of Mongolia that was popular with tourists in the warmer months of the year. However, this paper dealt not with summer vacationers, but with an armed invasion of the island by Scandanavian forces. They had seized the city, killing the outdated city garrison made up mostly of retired pensioners from the Mongol army, and were now declaring it a part of the Viking empire. It could only mean one thing: an act of war against the Mongols by his own people.
"I don't believe it!" sputtered Sven. "Ragnar would never... I mean, he wouldn't attack... this has got to be some kind of a mistake!" he finished weakly.
"It is no mistake!" growled Temujin in that icy cold voice. "We've known about your Viking forces outside Ereen for the last two weeks now, but decided it would be more beneficial to pretend we didn't. I was right; we were able to get your some of your precious state secrets for free in exchange for a useless island colony. Not a bad deal, if I do say so."
Sven was stunned. The khan was right, the shipments to Scandanavia hadn't left yet, and now they never would get off the docks. But from what he said... Temujin had sacrificed one of his own cities just to gain access to Scandanavian technology. How cold could the man be?
Perhaps reading Sven's thoughts from the expression on his face, Temujin rose from his seat and grabbed the front of the Scandanavian's suit in one hand. Sven was not a small man, but he was powerless to pull away; the khan had an iron grip. "Look down there," he said, indicating the window and the view of what lay below. Sven tried to jerk away, but Temujin would have none of it. "I said look down there, damn it! Look down there and see what happens to those who would betray me!"
Unwillingly, but pulled almost hypnotically by the force of the khan's voice, Sven's eyes drifted over to the window to look at what lay almost directly below. The gruesome spectacle of the Wall of Pikes was easy to see even from this height, three long metal spears sticking up into the heavens, the first two of them occupied. The first was nothing more than a skull, bleached white by wind and rain over time, but still there after all these years. The second was recent enough to be recognizable, though horribly distorted nonetheless. A stray feather or two still drifted in the wind from the ceremonial headress that Hiawatha had worn so proudly in life and now retained forever in death. Whether the other skull had ever belonged to Catherine was anyone's guess, but no one was prepared to dispute the word of the khan. The third pike seemed to be waiting eagerly for its occupant; the fugitive Bismarck continued to elude the Mongols but there was no mistake that he would end up here eventually as well. The sight was enough to make Sven queasy, as it always did. He didn't know how the Mongols could leave such a thing up where children could see it, much less turn it into the heroic epic that the Wall of Pikes had become.
"Before the day is out, there will be a fourth pike adorning the Wall," said Temujin coldly. He released his grip upon the other man and Sven stepped back hastily. It was past time to be going; from this room, from the palace, from Mongolia itself; going and never coming back to this horrible place.
"I regret that things had to come to this between our countries, sir," with their nations at war, Sven was not going to refer to him as 'great khan' anytime soon, "but now I must depart to prepare for my trip back to Trondheim. The embassy will be closing for the duration of the war; I hope to see you again after its conclusion." That was a lie; Sven never planned to return again if he could help it.
"Going? Well, I suppose that you can indeed serve as my messenger back to Ragnar," answered Temujin frostily. Sven's arms were crushed to his sides by the iron muscles of the guards behind him, preventing him from moving. The khan continued speaking as another guard appeared with something that was giving off a faint yellow glow. "But you will go as a messenger on my terms. You are an ambassador Sven; you should have seen the attack coming and told me of it. You will pay for your lack of foresight."
To his horror, Sven realized that the guard had a white-hot poker of iron clenched in tongs and it was being lowered towards his face. His eyes, actually. He had time for no more than a frenzied scream before the arms of the guard came down, and then his eyes never saw anything ever again.
