http://i100.photobucket.com/albums/m28/junovitch/world%20peace/800px-Flag_of_the_United_Nations_sv.png

I have been enjoying some of the stories posted on the form since I first started playing Civ years ago. I began to write my own game recently (and am continuing that story), but I got an idea for another game with a story with it.

I must admit that the idea for this game and story came from several sourcee:


Reading Basketcase's excellent My First Deity Game and The Vanguard stories. These literally cracked me up. What fun! IMO, these are the best stories on this forum.
While reading a book about the United Nations, I discovered a fact that I did not know: Scandivanian countries supplied the UN its first two elected Secretary-Generals. First was Trygve Lie of Norway who served from Feb 1946 to nov 19532. The second SG was Dag Hammars Kjold of Sweden, who served from April 1953 to Sept 1961.


The third inspiration came from watching the old Terry Jones (old Monty Python fame) movie, Erik the Viking. In short, Erik sets out on a quest to awaken the Gods and to restore peace to the world.

So, here is my new game and story then:

Playing on a 180 x 180 Earth map (not sure which one it is, as I downloaded it a long time ago) with 31 Ai civs - the max. I will, of course, be playing Scandivania. The turn limit is 1000 turns. Difficulty is Regent.


I made one slight modification to my civ. I changed the pre-requisite for Berserk units to be Feudalism and not Invention. I did this because IMO it gives this UU very little time in the game before being replaced by Musketmen.

AI Civs are "More Aggressive" and barbarians are "Restless"

I enabled all victory conditions except for Wonders and Space Race. However, I can only win by a UN victory. that gives the Ai plenty of other ways to beat me in the game.

As for personal rules, I will not seek a peace treaty on my own with a warring civ. I can only accept a offered peace treaty if I can demand and get some other compensation, like a peace treasy and free gold or a luxury. Another rule is that, if there is a resource that I need to build a specific unit currently in the game (like iron for swordsmen) that I cannot procure through a peaceful trade or a demand, I must obtain it by war. Finally, I can not tolerate Ai units in my territory unless I have a ROP with them. If the AI civ does not remove the units, I MUST delcare war! I am the Vikings, I am the one who loots and pillages, not the other way around. These rules are to force me to be aggressive in the game - just like the Vikings. Hey, I might be peaceful, but I am still a Viking!

So, before I start, here's some of my thoughts on the up-coming game:

The most important tech I need to get before anyone else is Fussion, so that I can build the United nations wonder before any other civ. By owning the Un wonder, I can decline a Un vote - and also pick the timing of the vote. If I do not own the UN wonder, I would be then forced to have the highest % of world pop and land to be able to voted as the SG.

I am not going to be too concerned about my culture score during the game. However, a big priority will be my reputation with the other civs, as I will have to rely on them to vote me as the Sg (and thus win). With the possibility that I will be embroiled in some major wars, this will make it really hard for me.

The Viking snarled and screamed into the air as he hurled his axe with all his might. With a loud thud, the axe bit deep into the far wall, only a few inches away from the face of a frightened girl, who was pinned there with her braids spread out.

Watching this display were several more Vikings, seated at ale-benches of the great ale hall, laughing in a rather unpleasant manner at this obvious cruelty.

One Viking, however, seemed not to enjoy the game. In fact, a frown slowly crept across his face, before he quickly hid it by quaffing a drink from his flagon. Ragnar Lodbrok was seated at a table on a dais in the ale hall, next to his father, Halfdan Lodbrok, the chief of the Vikings. Ragnar’s mother, seated to his other side, glanced at her husband with some hostility as Halfdan almost choked on his ale with merriment of the girl’s predicament.

Ragnar meanwhile, stared at the display of violence in astonishment and, for fleeting moment, he remembered the raid just the day before.

At first, all he could recall were flames; flames licking upwards into the overcast sky of the small settlement the Vikings had descended yesterday. Then there was screaming, yelling. Dark figures flashed through his mind – a confusing memory of burning, looting, raping, and killing.

Ragnar shook his head back and forth, as if to shake the vision from his mind. It was only his father’s chuckling that brought Ragnar back to the present. Ragnar’s father clearly thought that this axe-throwing game was the highlight of the evening, but Ragnar looked at it in disgust, and further at his father in despair.

Without a word, Ragnar stood up and quietly walked out of the ale hall. Halfdan watched his son walk out and frowned; he knew that something was wrong with his son, but didn’t know what it could be. Ragnar’s mother too watched Ragnar leave and frowned, nodding her head first at her husband and then at her departing son.

Outside the ale hall, the snow lies thick over the Viking village, as Ragnar’s father joined his son, who was brooding in silence.

“What’s the matter, son?”

Ragnar didn’t respond, but continued to stare blankly into the darkened night.

“Son, we’re missing all the fun…”

With obvious disgust, Ragnar spoke, quietly at first.

“What’s this all about, father? We loot and pillage, rape and kill…and yet…where does it all get us?”

“You’re talking piffle, son. You did good yesterday in the raid. I am proud of you.”

Ragnar was immediately brought up short by the horror of the day before.

“I…I…killed yesterday in the raid, father.”

“That’s my boy!”

The next day, Ragnar went to see Helga the Old, the village wise-woman. Located on the edge of the Viking village, Ragnar came to a small hut. Through the open door, he could make out a cooking pot on a faire, a straw bed, and a pile of rune-sticks.
Looking around, Ragnar called out in the cold winter air.
“Helga? Helga?”

Startled by movement, Ragnar saw a head rise from a pile of rags in the hut’s corner

“Ah, Ragnar Lodbrok. Now, what CAN I do for you?”

Not entirely certain whether the old woman’s words were not a little mocking, Ragnar didn’t reply.

“Young men these days. Only interested in killing and fighting.”

Ragnar looked at the old woman sharply, as if she had read his mind.

“But has it always been like that, Helga?

“The Old Stories tell of an age that would come such as this – When Fenris the Wolf would swallow the sun, and the Great Winter would settle upon the world. It would be an age when brother would turn against brother, and men would fight each other until the world would finally be destroyed.”

Almost to himself, Ragnar, spoke.

“Then…this is that age?”

Without responding, the old woman huddled deeper into her bed of rags.

“Is there nothing men can do? Is it hopeless then?”

Helga poked her head from under the rags, clearly enjoying Ragnar’s earnest despair.

“Tell me what I must do, Helga!”

The old woman thought in silence before speaking.

“The Old Stories do tell one of one hope, young man. They tell of a great ale hall in the center of the world to bring mankind together. It is the dream that this great ale hall could stop all war between brothers and eradicate war forever.”

Intrigued by this news, Ragnar crept closer to the old woman.

“And what do the Old Stories call this great ale hall, Helga?”

“They will call it the United Nations…”

So, in 4,000 BC, Ragnar Lodbrok led his men away from the village. For many days and nights they wandered, seeking a suitable spot to found Ragnar’s new city, from which he was to set out on his quest.

It was along the banks of what the peaceful indigenous people called the Thames that Ragnar felt he had found the perfect spot. For several weeks, Ragnar’s men toiled and worked, first constructing a palisade and then the town itself.

And it was to be called, Trondheim, the Eternal City of Peace:

http://i100.photobucket.com/albums/m28/junovitch/world%20peace/foundtrondheim4000bc.jpg

While his men worked, Ragnar called his most wisest of men to him in his hall.

‘You all understand my plans then? I do expect your full cooperation in this.’

A grumble from the collection of wise men was the only response.

Turning from the disgruntled mass of wise men, Ragnar motioned Thorkatta the Indiscreet, his most Wisest of Councilors, forward.

‘Thorkatta, you have news about a gift from these locals called the Magyar. Tell me, what have you uncovered.’

‘Our people had mastered the working of copper long ago, My Most Terrible One…’

Ragnar stood to cut his advisor off. ‘Thorkatta, I have told you not to call me that…’

‘…The Greatest of Calamities…’

“I am not. Stop saying that, Thorkatta.”

‘…The Scourge of the Seas..’

“I AM NOT A SCOURGE, Thorkatta!”

‘Yes, My Most Terr…um, I mean, My Lord.’

Ragnar tried not to pay attention to the snickering from the rest of his advisors and wisemen, and instead motioned for Thorkatta to continue.

‘The locals who call themselves the Magyar, have shown us a most wondrous metal. They call it bronze, My Most Terr…err, I mean My Lord. With this metal, we can weapons that are harder than our copper ones. And the Magyar have been generous to show us where to find it, right near by the city, My Lord.’

Ragnar, lost in thought at this revelation, did not hear his advisor’s further explanation of the excellent weapons and armor that this could make. He soon spoke again.

‘Tell me, Thorkatta, have you heard the Saga of Baldur and the Colossus of Rhodes?’

‘Um, My Lord? The Colossus of Rhodes? I don’t think so, My Lord. Is that near Alfheim, Sire?’

Ragnar barely even heard his most trusted advisor’s response. He was obviously still deep in thought. Ragnar was silent for some time before he continued.

‘I remember bits of the saga. It tells the tale that Baldur built a gigantic statue dedicated to Odin out of this…“bronze”…after the defeat of the Giants and the founding of Valhalla upon the shores of the Endless Sea. According to the saga, this Colossus stood over 100 feet high…’

‘What?!? A Colossus of Rhodes? Baldur never built a “colossus” in his life!’

The snickering from the rest of the advisors drew hard, sterns glares from Thorkatta. Thankfully, Ragnar seemed almost feverish in talking about this “colossus” and had not heard the comment.

‘With this new bronze, Thorkatta, we too can build this Colossus. It will act a shining beacon to all the world, to our divine purpose and plans. All the people of Earth will come here as a haven of learning and peace.’

Glancing to one another, it was obvious to the advisors that their Lord was, simply, quite loony.

Scribbling some quick sketched on the back of a deer hide, Ragnar handed it to Thorkatta.

‘This is what I want, Thorkatta. I want you to personally oversee its construction. Start to gather all you will need immediately and anything you need will be at your disposal. In this matter, Thorkatta, your word is My word.’

So taken aback at this plan, Thorkatta did not even think to hide his amazement from his face.

‘Where are we to build this..this Colossus, Sire?’

‘Some where near water, Thorkatta. I will be sending out some scouts tomorrow. Hopefully, by the next fortnight I will have found a suitable location.’

‘Y’yes, My Lord, right away, Sire.’

Ragnar dismissed his advisors away with his hand as Ivar the Boneless, Ragnar’s most veteran warrior stepped forward. Waiting in silence for his Lord to speak, Ivar watched the advisors leave the hall, a smile barely creeping onto his face.

As the last advisor departed, Ragnar spoke.

‘Ivar…’

‘Yes, Most Terrible One?’

Ragnar groaned at this.

‘Ivar, I asked you not to call me that…’

‘Call you what, Sire?’

‘Oh, never mind. Are your men assembled?’

“Yes, the Greatest of Calamities. We are ready to die for you, Sire. All of Valhalla will sing our praises in battle! We will crush our enemies beneath us, we will…’

‘No, no, Ivar, I don’t need you to do anything of the kind..’

‘…pillage and burn our enemies until there are none left…’

‘Really, Ivar, that won’t be necessary…’

‘We will kill until our enemies tremble at the sound of our very name!’

‘Now that’s just downright rude, Ivar…’

‘We will…’

‘IVAR!’

Almost lost in the frenzy of his imagined upcoming violent campaign, Ivar almost did not hear Ragnar.

‘Sorry, Your Most Terrible One, you were saying?’

‘Ivar, in this task I need your most complete understanding. You will head out tomorrow to scout the region out and make contact with out neighbors. In this task, I want no bloodshed, do I make myself clear, Ivar?’

‘No bloodshed, Sire?’

‘None, Ivar.’

‘How about some minor pillaging then, Sire? Pillaged goods always is a good thing, Sire.’

‘No, Ivar, no pillaging.’

‘Well, about some rape and murder then? The lads always like that…’

‘No, Ivar. No rape or murder either.’

‘Well, how about we just rough ‘em up a bit..’

‘NO IVAR! I want no pillaging, no raping, no murder, none of it. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?’

‘Very, Sire’

‘Come back to me as soon as you find something.’

‘Yes, My Lord.’

Ivar turned from his Lord to stalk out of the hall. As Ragnar watched him leave, he spoke once more.

‘And, Ivar….no burning of settlements either. Not a lick of flame.’

Without turning back towards his Lord, Ivar stopped for a moment.

‘Not even burning, Sire?’

‘No, Ivar, no burning either.’

With his head lowered in defeat, Ivar meekly left the hall, leaving his Lord in solitude.

And, thus, Ivar the Boneless set out on his exploration:

http://i100.photobucket.com/albums/m28/junovitch/world%20peace/ivarheadsouttoexplore3800bc.jpg

And so, it came to pass that Ivar the Boneless set out make contact with the nearby and peaceful Magyars to the north:

http://i100.photobucket.com/albums/m28/junovitch/world%20peace/contactwithmagyar3750bc.jpg

Yet, with all of Ragnar’s warnings and demands, Ivar and his men were, after all, Vikings.

The Vikings’ contempt for this peaceful tribe of men brought out their bloodlust. His men saw only one path to dealing with these soft people, that being the traditional Viking way, to hurt and kill. But Ivar remembered his Lord’s words, and he threatened to shatter their heads (even managing to do just that to a couple of them), until they begged and swore, apologized and complained. But there was no more talk of violence among Ivar’s men.

Ivar met the elders of the Magyars and the peaceful people brought him into their tiny village. Everything the elders showed Ivar, holding nothing back. In the center of the village, they took the Viking to a large cairn of rock. Here the elders explained their rites of worship, ceremonies, vigils, and prayer. They also explained how they performed what was called a ceremonial burial, a ritual to prepare a loved one’s body for the afterlife

‘That cannot be!’ Ivar denied hard. ‘How but by fire and pyre can one enter Valhalla!’

Many of Ivar’s men nodded their heads in agreement to such obvious logic.

But the elders, with calm certainty, replied. ‘What we say is true.’

‘Oh, just kill ‘em already, Ivar. I’m hungry.’

Though impossible it seemed to Ivar, he knew the strange fascination his Lord had for such things, and so agreed to deliver these secrets back to Trondheim upon his return.

Thus, finally, after a dozen fortnights (or what Lord Ragnar called ‘turns’), Ivar had bravely explored their new homeland completely and was ready to return back to Trondheim...

http://i100.photobucket.com/albums/m28/junovitch/world%20peace/map3300bc.jpg

(Meanwhile back at Trondheim…..)

http://i100.photobucket.com/albums/m28/junovitch/world%20peace/startwriting3250bc.jpg

‘And so, Thorkatta, you see? With this new ‘Writing’, we could keep accounts and inventories, or even record my quest for the United Nations. This would replace our way of oral storytelling for all time. This allows us a form of information that can be reliably transmitted for one person to another…This indeed is a tool for out quest, Thorkatta.’

‘What is he saying? What’s wrong with runes, I tell ya? Oh, looks who’s the smarty-pants around here now?’

Thorkatta paid no head to the bickering of his fellow advisors. Despite his reservations, he had to admit to the logic of his Lord. This ‘writing’ was indeed a powerful tool.

‘My Lord, as I mentioned, we are now able to smelt bronze as you requested, and have begun to gather as much bronze as we can in Trondheim. Am I to understand that you wish us to focus now on this new task?’

‘No, Thorkatta. I want you to continue with both. Ivar has sent word that he has found a perfect place to build the Colossus, some three tiles to the northeast. The location is perfect. I will be sending a group of our people in tow days to journey there and set-up preparations for the beginning the construction of the Colossus…’

-----------------------------
Outside Ragnar’s Ale Hall in Trondheim, there were a large gathering of Ragnar’s people. Some were strapping belongings to pony’s whilst others loaded small carts and wagons. Ragnar watched them prepare for their journey before speaking.

‘Well…have a good trip. Don’t forget to write’

The gathering of settlers stopped in the midst of their packing to turn to their Lord, as if waiting for him to speak further. Under their collective gaze, Ragnar became nervous and kicked at an offensive stone at his feet.

‘That’s all we get, then. Have a good trip? You’ve got to say a bit more than that, I say.’

‘Oh…er…well, yes, quite right.’ The faces of the settlers turned to face Ragnar.

Ragnar looked up to address everyone.

‘You all know where you are going, so don’t grieve. Many unforetold dangers lie ahead, and I may never see some of you ever again.’

Somewhere in the crowd, someone burst out sobbing.

‘But don’t fret. Even though the Hordes of Loki and his Kin may rend you limb from limb…or the darkness at the edge of the world may swallow you whole…don’t cry.

More sobbing erupted from the crowd, nearly drowning out Ragnar.

Thorkatta nudged his Lord from behind.

‘My Lord you may want to calm them with words of comfort and luck.’

‘Quite right.’

For a moment, Ragnar is silent. He can’t think of anything to say.

‘Well, good luck, everyone!’

Ragnar smiled broadly, waved, and then turned to walk back towards the ale hall.

So, in 3150 BC, the city of Bergen was founded and construction on the Colossus had begun:

http://i100.photobucket.com/albums/m28/junovitch/world%20peace/foundbergenandstartcolossus3150bc.jpg

Wow. Some of this sounds like something out of Monty Python or Terry Pratchett.

...

That was praise, I can't tell if it sounds like it, but it's supposed to.

Look again at what one of my insiprations were. And also look at the pic of my advisor if you need another clue. I thought heavily about Monty Python when I started the story out - and especially when I was writing it. I was inspired by the movie, Erik the Viking in the settling of Bergen part, as well as the overall idea about a peaceful Viking. The idea for the prologue is also Terry Jones. It is a rewrite of the start if the film. However, beyond the prologue and the settler scene, I have written the rest myself. I simply thought of Monty Python as I wrote it. And alot of other things besides.

Over the din of the throng of on-lookers, Ragnar could barely hear his most trusted advisor, Thorkatta, who vainly pushed past the groups of well-wishers. Looming far overhead of all stood a gigantic statue, its bronze skin gleaming in the salty air.

http://i100.photobucket.com/albums/m28/junovitch/world%20peace/completecolossus1750bc.jpg

‘Tis a sight, Sire. Wouldn’t you agree?’

Thorkatta beamed with unabashed pride at the sight of the Colossus.

In sheer astonishment, Ragnar could only shake his head in agreement.

‘I had a lot of trouble putting this together, my Lord. Equipment shortages, worker riots, even a illness that swept through many of my men. But we did it, Sire. We did it’

‘Y..yes you did, Thorkatta. Beyond my wildest dreams…you did it.’

Ragnar walked about the foot of the Colossus, never taking his gaze off of it for a moment, his advisors in tow.

‘Its simply beautiful, Thorkatta. I am speechless.’

In his wonder at the statue, Ragnar did not hear the snickering coming from the other advisors, until one spoke.

‘Perhaps, my Lord, all this thing needs now is a torch.’

The outburst was lost to Ragnar, but not to the other advisors, as another round of snickering commenced.

‘Yea, a really BIG torch in its hand…’

‘Oh, now that’s simply stupid. Who would build a gigantic statue and put a torch in its hand?’

‘Well, someone might..’

The argument between the advisors brought Ragnar out of his amazement.

‘No, no, Ulf, I believe that you may be onto something.’

Ragnar stopped to gaze across the harbor, his advisors looking back and forth at one another in confusion. Suddenly, Ragnar spoke again, but this time more rapidly, sweeping his arms in the air.

‘Ulf is quite right, you see? We DO need a torch…a huge one.’

Now the advisors were downright skeptically of their Lord’s sanity.

‘Um.. Sire….I was only kidding about the torch thing, no really I was…’

Ragnar cut Ulf off with a wave of his hand.

“We shall build a great Lighthouse, even taller than the Colossus! Then it could guide visiting ships to the harbor hear. A light that burns day and night for all the world to see…’

Again, Ragnar was lost in thought.

‘Um, Sire, why do we need lights at night? We never sail at night, that’s just stup…’

Before he could continue further, Ulf was hushed by his fellow advisors.

Turning to Thorkatta, Ragnar quickly outlined his idea, as the others stood by in sheer amazement.

‘No, no, not bronze this time, my old friend. We shall build this great lighthouse out of stone.’

Now, not shocked by anything his Lord had to say, Thorkatta merely asked a question.

‘And what are we going to call this, my Lord? The Lighthouse of Oslo perhaps?’

Still staring up at the Colossus, the gleam of the future burning brightly in his eyes, Ragnar answered simply.

‘No, we will call this one the Great Lighthouse…’

------

And so Ragnar’s people grew and multiplied, for they were fruitful and blessed with many children. And winter turned into summer, then summer into winter, over and over. And, when there was enough, Ragnar sent them from Trondheim to establish other cities on the isle.

First there came the city of Copenhagen, a place of unrivaled, quality chewing tobacco, leaf tobacco, and roll your own cigarette products on this side of the Bifrost Bridge:

http://i100.photobucket.com/albums/m28/junovitch/world%20peace/foundcopenhagen2190bc.jpg

Next came Reykjavik, which was not known for much of anything:

http://i100.photobucket.com/albums/m28/junovitch/world%20peace/foundreykavik1600bc.jpg

And so, the Quest for World Peace continued and Ragnar's people grew. But what did the future have in store, perhaps? His people had yet to contact others in the world...would they embrace Ragnar's quest?

Ok, now I have to ask, is this even interesting to read? Am I too far off the charts with this story? Any advice would be most helpful.

On a side note, I have played alot farther in the game than what I have written about. I just want to present the story in a certain manner, and so I have to think long and hard before I post to get the right feel.

Right now in the game I have meet around 5 other civs, and have begun trading techs - which actually lends itself to alot to comedy relief,

I think it's great to read - early on the game is always slow, so having the characters focus on the important things (wonders) and just saying "City So-and-So was founded here in XXXX BC" is pretty good for a starting point.

And so, Ragnar’s people thrive and continue to multiply, and all are peaceful and happy.

‘What? Happy? I’m not happy!’

“Oh, yes you are.’

‘No I’m not!’

‘If I say that you are happy, then damn it, you’re happy!’

‘Well…you don’t have to be rude about it…’

And so, it comes to pass that the growth and expansion of Ragnar’s people finally drew the attention of others in the world…..

http://i100.photobucket.com/albums/m28/junovitch/world%20peace/contactegypt1525bc.jpg

‘..so what is the problem then Thorkatta?’

‘Well, my Lord, its just that she’s well…’

‘Well what, Thorkatta? Spit it out.’

‘Well, Sire, she’s a woman.’

‘So? She’s a woman. What’s wrong with that?’

Thorkatta did not respond at first, looking back at his fellow advisors.

‘Sire, among our people, women are…how can I put this…not part of the daily goings-on of more, important matters, my Lord. Especially those best left to the men-folk.’

‘Yea, they complain too much. Always nagging you about this or that’

‘You didn’t heft that axe very well did you…or always talking about how much I LIKED that girl in the village that we just pillaged.’

‘Or always pestering you about why this raid took SOOOO long to get back from, or this is the second one this week.’

‘And its always about feeling with them. Always going on about how I should worry about my enemies feel, what they think and all. How would I feel if someone kept raiding my villages and all that.’

All the advisors now were nodding their heads in complete agreement.

Ragnar waited for the advisors to quiet down before speaking.

‘Things are different in the world, Thorkatta. And we much adapt to this new world if we are to survive and see our quest to its fulfillment.’

‘Oh, and I suppose that next they’re going to want to drive the cart.’

‘Or vote in tribal war councils too.’

Ragnar raised his hand to silence the advisors.

‘That will be all. Thorkatta, please show the delegation of Queen Cleopatra in.’

‘Hail Lord Ragnar of Scandinavia. I am Hefru. Queen Cleopatra of Ancient and Everlasting Egypt brings her joy at this momentous meeting.’

‘Well met, Hefru of Egypt. Please send my greetings to your Queen. May she ever sit upon her throne.’

‘Thank you Sire, my Queen has…’

Hefru stopped in mid-sentence to look around. There was annoying grinding sound. A nasty distraction.

‘You were saying, Hefru?’

‘Ah, yes Sire, my Queen has instructed me to present myself to you and your court…’

The grinding sound was becoming louder, more irritating.

‘…and my Queen offers trade with Scandinavia…’

Now even Ragnar looked around the great hall.

‘IVAR! Stop sharpening that axe on that blasted sharpening wheel!’

Ivar the Boneless looked up meekly from his seat, axe in hand.

‘Oh, yes my Lord. Sorry.’

Are you going to continue this? It's going pretty well.

Yes please do carry on with it- that chapter about Cleopatra was hilarious!

I assumed this was a new story until reading Alaska_Jr's post, but no, this is pre-Soyuz Sovetskikh Sotsialisticheskikh Respublik. Perhaps you'll get back to Ragnar after you're done with Russia.

BTW, welcome to civ fanatics, Alaska_Jr:D
And thanks for bumping this thread- otherwise I would never have noticed it!