Paris, 2750 B.C. - Debates raged in the French palace. "We'll never survive if we expand so loosely!" argued an oracle. "The gods have warned us that such a decision would be most unwise."

"I don't care about any omens, I want land to grow my crops!" declared a farmer. "And we won't have any land if we settle our cities as close as your gods seem to think wise."

"Oracle, do the gods merely say such a course of action as the farmers and fishers desire is unwise, or do they threaten to invoke their wrath against us if settle far and wide?" asked the Empress.

"They never said they would turn against us if we did not follow this advice," admitted the oracle. "But they said to do other than they advise would greatly jeopardize us, perhaps beyond what they could solve."

"Then we shall settle as our farmers wish," decreed the Empress. "I am Empress, and through my skill and that of my descendants we will be successful. No Emperor shall successfully challenge me, whether the gods think my decisions wise or not. If I say it will work out in the end, it will. Settle Orleans fifty-one miles southeast of Paris."

"Empress, we've already lost a hundred years resettling on the coast, and the gods cautioned that, too, was a great risk. Are you - " started the oracle.

"I am quite certain my decision is fine. You are dismissed."

Orleans was settled later that year at the spot the Empress had ordered. And thus the French Empire began.

http://i152.photobucket.com/albums/s193/Quintillus/Vive%20la%20France/2750_Orleans.png

Game Details:

Difficulty: Emperor
Map Size: Standard
Map Type: Pangaea
Barbarians: Roaming
Climate: Normal
Temperature: Temperate
Age: 4 Billion

As of this writing, I have never defeated Emperor. I've done well at it before, notably in COTM 37 (http://gotm.civfanatics.net/games/index.php?month=30037), but have always been thwarted in the end. Feeling adventurous, I took up another attempt, and this is the tale of that game.

Readers of my previous story may notice a difference in style. And indeed, it is quite different in the way it is told. The previous story was told, more or less, as it was played. In this game, I'm already millenia ahead of this section. Details have been more or less lost to history, but the basic story and many a saved game file remains. Thus this story will be more narrative, likely somewhat shorter, and won't feature nearly as many screenshots (though there certainly will still be some). Not to worry, though, I've got far more ideas after this - nearly started one tonight before I rewrote the first section of this story and was far more satisfied with the result than I was with my intial attempt!

Feel free to comment on my playing style, tips and tricks, etc. It may be too late to implement them in this game, but they certainly could help in the future.

Lyons, 1700 B.C. - "Blast it!" Bertrand declared. "Whose bright idea was it to settle in this forsaken plain? Can't hardle grow a thing on it!"

"Say they settled it for the nearby ivory," replied Thierry. "Don't know if it were such a bright idea myself - not like there wasn't rich grasslands south and east of Orleans - but the Empress went ahead with it. Said the benefits of the ivory outweighed the poor plains."

"As if we could eat ivory. Hah!"

"Nah, supposedly the Empress is thinking of building a great statue to the gods. Y'know, to make up for her predecessors ignoring the advice of the oracles and abiding to the farmers' wishes instead. 'Course we're the ones who're left out here now, they wouldn't think of listening to the farmers' wishes today."

"The least they could do is irrigate these fields for us. Half our crops are dying every year," said Bertrand. "Don't know what the Empress is thinking half the time. We already decided good land was more important than the gods, didn't we? And now we're settling out here."

"'Fraid we're out of luck," Thierry said. "Word is the after they get the road built to the elephants' grounds the workers are heading right back south again to help out there. It really is all for the ivory. We're just here so the elephant hunters can have something to eat."

"Hmph" grunted Betrand. "Guess we're out of luck, then. At least we'll have a nice pretty statue to look at."

"I don't think so, friend. Heard the other day it'll be in Paris."

"Blast it! Why'd we have to be born in Lyons? We'll always be petty farmers here, nothing glorious!" exclaimed Bertrand.

"Maybe, maybe," pondered Thierry. "Perhaps we'll get lucky, though. Perhaps we will be remembered centuries from now."

http://i152.photobucket.com/albums/s193/Quintillus/Vive%20la%20France/1700_Lyons.png

France? Didn't see this one coming.

Go Quintillian stories!:rockon:

Awesome, Quintillus! I too have struggled with Emperor and the only time I have beaten it was with Russia on 80%pangea, or on a Pelago, so I doubt I could do it with France.

Why France, though?

Did the farmers of France consider building something to store their food in?

Storing food means thats French bellies are extra full, and so much motivation makes the bourgeois jump out of their seats, pick up shovels, and start toiling the land !

Not only this, but once one generation leaves to work the fields, the next generation is born quickly, to go and work the whales / mines that their hard-working parents left behind.

;)

Awesome, Quintillus! I too have struggled with Emperor and the only time I have beaten it was with Russia on 80%pangea, or on a Pelago, so I doubt I could do it with France.

Why France, though?

France seemed like a good civilization at the time, I guess. I figured Musketeers might just come in handy with their extra defence, as in the past the late Middle Ages/early Industrial is when I tended to fall behind technologically on Emperor, and I've always somewhat liked their traits (Commercial + Industrious). And I hadn't played them a whole lot. So I went with France.

Did the farmers of France consider building something to store their food in?

Storing food means thats French bellies are extra full, and so much motivation makes the bourgeois jump out of their seats, pick up shovels, and start toiling the land !

Not only this, but once one generation leaves to work the fields, the next generation is born quickly, to go and work the whales / mines that their hard-working parents left behind.

;)

Nope, they built a Temple in Paris instead. Never know when you'll need that head start on the 20K Culture Victory.

Granaries actually wouldn't come for a very long time. Pottery would fall by the wayside on techs, and it would be more than a millenia after this point before it was discovered.

I loved your previous story, that one, inspired me to join this board...

Go Quintillian stories!:rockon:
Seconded

YEY another Q. story! ill be following... also what are you going for to win?

Update?:mischief:

Woohoo! Quintillius!

As for Emperor- get lots of land early, keep a strong military, and it's not too difficult. In my first Emperor game as the Iroquois I didn't get enough land, and didn't have horses until late- bye bye Mounted Warrior. Rome very nearly crushed me- twice.

hoorah for a new qunitillus game! :goodjob:

Omg, a Quinty story again! Yay! :D

I'd update my own story if I didn't recently acquire Civilization 3 Conquests and playing it every hour that I can. :D

I just get here, and what's the near first thing I find? :lol:

France? Didn't see this one coming.

Go Quintillian stories!:rockon:

Yeah, I really didn't see France either? But, then, I just started my first game as the Persians, so, Go Figure!

So,
Update?:mischief:

Sounds a lot like Conquest of the World!

So, seconded, Update?

Go Quintillian stories!:rockon:

Quintillian: /kwin till' ē ən/: (1) written by the renowned author Quintillus; (2) engaging or exciting, as in a story; (3) of high quality.


Looking forward to this!

Paris, 837 B.C. - On a cloudy but warm summer day, King Louis III was meeting his domestic and military advisors on the issue of expansion. The mood was especially combatative.

"I say we settle two cities between Tlaxcala and Tzintzuntzen!" shouted one advisor. "We can easily harvest twice the food, there's room for two!"

"Plentiful land for every city forever!" cried a farmer. The agricultural forces were powerful in France, and often had their way.

"I say we go with the first plan and culture flip both Aztec cities! We've the finest culture in the world, everybody knows it! Once it gets near the Aztec cities they'll fall like flies," countered an architect.

The King wiped his brow. "I think we all need a break. Let's adjourn for half an hour and reassemble in front of the Statue of Taranis. Guards, have the Warriors clear an area for a Palacial Meeting."

"Yes, sir," replied a Spearman standing guard. It was unusual for the court to meet in public, but not unprecedented. Everyone seemed to like the idea, though - Paris was certainly far enough north to warrant being outside in the summer.

Forty-five minutes later the debate began anew.

"Culture flipping!" exclaimed an exasperated military advisor. "I know we are glorious, but the oracles have been saying for centuries that long-term this is a nigh-impossible strategy."

"We aren't talking centuries here, we're talking about converting a couple Aztec towns," another advisor burst in. "Once that's done it's all the better for the military, no?"

"We need military units now to fight the barbarians, not more settling parties! Honestly" - he shoved the other advisor, who was caught by several other advisors.

"Calm, calm," ordered the King. "Raphael," he adressed the military advisor, "of the barbarians, how strong are they? How much guard should we send?"

"At least two battalion of spearmen, sir. The Aztecs haven't been able to quell them at all, not that I'd expect them to be able to do anything..."

"Well, then, send two battaltions of Spearmen and two settling groups!" exclaimed a domestic advisor.

"You doofus, the Saxons would surely overrun one of the two groups," yelled Raphael. "That's the whole point of sending two with one group!"

"You just want a bigger military..."

"I want our citizens' safety..."

"Everyone! Calm!" shouted the King. He took a deep breath, and then started. "I know everyone has deep opinions on this. Both sides have merits. If I didn't value choosing the best option, I wouldn't have put up with this fracas as long as I have. I'll have my decision in three days. Until then, please, don't start a riot!"

The crowd laughed. But there was a certain danger of a riot - otherwise the King may well not have been sending out more settling parties in the first place.

Tours, 824 B.C. - The weary French Spearmen marched south of the city again, preparing to meet yet another Saxon band. How many more Saxons would come at them and their new city, they wondered. They were holding them off, but there weren't enough of them to go on the offensive yet.

http://i152.photobucket.com/albums/s193/Quintillus/Vive%20la%20France/0824_Tours.png

"Y'know what I finally made sense of, Bruno?" Gaston asked the soldier on his right. "Why the Aztecs settled Tzintzuntzen where they did."

"The wheat and the mouth of the river, of course. Excellent city location if you ask me," answered Bruno.

"No, not that, though it's not bad, either. It was because up there they didn't have to worry about these infernal Saxon invasions every three weeks!"

"Eh, fair point. Left us the land surrounded by Saxons to settle in here."

"While all their Jaguar Warriors relaxed and drank chocolate in Tenochtitlan," finished Gaston. "Yep, them's clever, those Aztecs. Half wish I could be one of their easy-living Jaguar Warriors myself."

"But who's going to be ruling whom in the long run?" asked the Captain, whose nearby patrol had thus far gone unnoticed by the conversing Spearmen. "They never fight any battles, how will they ever win a war?"

The French certainly did fight battles. Two hours later they were in a struggle for their lives.

"Curse those axes!" yelled Gaston. "Lost my shield for the third month in a row to them!" He tossed the shield, now punctuated with an axe, aside, then threw his spear at the now-weaponless Saxon who'd drove his axe into the sheild. "You want to take my shield?" he yelled. "How 'bout you take my spear as well?" He ran up to the groaning Saxon and pulled out his spear. "I'll show 'em how - " he dove and rolled onto the ground as another axe came swinging down from the side. He tried to jab the axeman first, but instead the Saxon's wild swing broke his spear in two. Looking around quickly, he spotted a dead Saxon with an axe nearby. Running as quickly as he could, he hurtled towards it, grabbed it, and turned back to see his opponent nearly caught up with him. Gaston wasn't used to wielding such an unwieldly weapon, but he didn't have much choice now.

The Saxon lifted his axe above his head and brought it down quickly. Moving just in time, Gaston managed to position his axe blade to parry the blow, and a terrible sound of stone on stone followed. "Scum!" yelled Gaston. He tried to advance himself, but the barbarian was quicker. "Lay off a second!" Gaston protested, but his French was lost to the Saxon - not that it would have mattered anyways. The Saxon's blade missed him by millimeters, and Gaston saw his life before his eyes. Disoriented, he was no longer even trying to attack the barbarian, and the barbarian was bringing his axe back around...it was over...resistance was futile...

Gaston awoke. It was dark outside, and someone was nearby with a candle. He looked around and saw makeshift wooden buildings. It was Tours.

"Wha - ah - ow...what happened?" he asked no one in particular. His mouth hurt as he talked, but feeling around with his tongue, he seemed to have all his teeth.

"Ah, Gaston," a tall figure said. "Rather nasty blow to the head from the side of an axe. You're only lucky it was just the side and not the edge. A Saxon had overwhelmed you it seems, Bruno saw you, sprinted over, and stabbed the Saxon before the Saxon saw him coming. The Saxon was howling in pain and couldn't keep the axe straight as it went towards you, but pure momentum kept it coming and the blade slammed into your head something bad. You've been unconcious since early afternoon. Some swelling around your mouth, too, but it doesn't look like it'll be anything permanent."

"Yike - owww" started Gaston.

"Take it easy lad," said the man, whom Gaston now recognized as one of the old flagbearers. "You'll be better in a fortnight at most. Don't think the Saxons will trying another attack before then, either."

Gaston tried to smile, but it ended up in a grimace. It wasn't an easy life, but at least he still had one. From the sounds of it, Bruno had done quite the job at making sure the Saxon was far less fortunate.

Quintillian: /kwin till' ē ən/: (1) written by the renowned author Quintillus; (2) engaging or exciting, as in a story; (3) of high quality.

That's signature-worthy Quint. If I were you, I would use it.:)

Anyway, nice storywriting!:goodjob:

Game Details:

Difficulty: Emperor
Map Size: Standard
Map Type: Pangaea
Barbarians: Roaming
Climate: Normal
Temperature: Temperate
Age: 4 Billion


Hmmmm.... on the last game, you were on the map of the world with all the Civs. I take it that this means that you aren't using any kind of special map. Oh well, it really doesn't matter. I'm definitely subscribing to this thread!

Nope, random map here. Couldn't use a pre-made one when vying for a first Emperor win.

I'll get an update up by end of day Tuesday at latest (probably earlier, but always best to estimate later than earlier). I'm on break now but lost an entire day at the airport and most of today day catching up on sleep, so I haven't written anything else since the last update yet.

Tzintzuntzen, 297 B.C. - Twelve thousand French Cavalry stormed towards the city of Tzintzuntzen on a damp morning in early November. The Empress had decided four months ago that France could no longer go on surrounded by two stronger neighbors, and it was the task of the Cavalry to see to it that that was no longer the case.

*****

"Tell Wiomarch to come in as soon as he enters the palace," ordered Empress Adélaide to a guard leaving her throne room. "There are most important matters of state I need to discuss with him"

"Very well," the guard answered. Could this be the call to war that had long been in the back of the minds of all French solidiers?

An hour and a half later, the Empress was discussing the matter with her military advisor.

"Wiomarch, how close are we to mobilization?" the Empress asked right away.

"Most of our troops are within thirty kilometers of the border, my Empress - "

"Excellent. Send a messenger to Tenochititlan via horse. Our Cavalry shall move on Tzintzuntzen in three months time, and our Swordsmen to Tlaxcala."

"Very well. It shall be done. May I inquire as to why now exactly?"

"I've been Empress for six years now, Wiomarch. Even with all the diplomatic nicities required, I've more than noticed how other empires overshadow us in the world without exception. America and the Aztecs, our nearest neighbors, above all. How are we supposed to compete with them if no one ever does anything about it? I've been fortunate enough to inherit a strong military; I intend to take advantage of that and make a name for myself, whether it results in France becoming the glorious Empire she should be, or our enslavement as the hands of the Aztecs."

Her last words caused Wiomarch to pause, the thoughts of being an Aztec slave utterly repulsive to him. Being an ordinary laborer would be bad enough, but imagine being sacrificed to Quetzalcoatl! He knew enough to know France would win overwhelmingly early on, but beyond that there was no guarantee. It certainly was gutsy of the Empress to take the step of war that no other French ruler had taken to date -

"Now give the orders!" said the Empress, pointing a sword to the door. Wiomarch realized he'd been standing there thinking of being an Aztec slave and broke out of his trance.

"Yes, Empress," he replied, and left the room.

Well, it's done, thought the Empress. There's no stopping what I've started now. May Taranis be with us in this war.

*****

Mazatl looked over the plains stretching in front of Tzintzuntzen and couldn't believe his eyes. French horsemen covered the entire horizon, from one edge to the other, not a gap anywhere. There must be four times as many French as Aztecs - any way he looked at it, he knew it wasn't good.

"No reinforcements coming," said his friend Tochtli to him. "No way they could get here this quickly without any roads to Tamuin. We're in this for ourselves."

"I don't like the looks of it," commented Mazatl dryly.

"I don't think any of us do," laughed Tochtli. "But maybe these French horsemen are worse soldiers than they appear. Part of warfare is deceiving the enemy into thinking you are more powerful than you actually are."

Perhaps, thought Mazatl. But he had a sinking feeling that this wasn't one of those times.

*****

Tochtli tried to stand steady at the front of his brigade of Spearmen, braced against the quickly approaching French charge. Unchallenged by arrows, the French had not a single gap in their line. Though he managed to appear steady, in reality Yaotl was terrified. All his training had never prepared him for this. The French soldiers looked more powerful than even the best Aztec soldiers he had seemed. Perhaps it was their speed - perhaps their forces were weak but fast. He knew it was nonsense, but was grasping for any hope. They even looked better-armed than the Aztec horsemen - their swords sure gleamed of steel rather than the bronze weapons most Aztecs fought with. How the French could procure so much steel Tochtli was not sure of, but that did not particularly matter now. The French would hit the Aztec wall any moment.

And with a sickening crash they did. Tochtli was knocked onto his back by the force and only the strength and curvature of his shield saved him from being crushed by a horse foot. The horse, thrown off balance by the awkward landing, fell violently to the ground, and its rider was momentarily aiding the Aztecs to save himself from being trampled by the other French riders. Tochtli laid low as the French passed overhead, but already knew whom his next target would be.

As the French charge lessened, Tochtli grabbed his obsidian dagger (his spear destroyed in the initial charge) and lunged at the dismounted French rider, whom he caught entirely off guard. Stabbing him in the back several times, he then easily wrested him sword from him, and turned back to the fight. Turning away a French Cavalryman with the new sword, Tochtli found himself momentarily free from combat. As if signifying his triumph, a rainbow then emerged from the clouds, perfectly catching Tochtli's new sword.

"Whoa..." said Tochtli. He had never seen so impressive a sword. It was entirely untarnished by the rust that inevitably afflicted the Aztec swords within months of production, and sharper than any bronze weapon he had ever seen. The sun's light against it was almost blinding at this distance, and the rainbow was perfectly reflected in it. He could use it as a mirror if he survived this battle. How fortunate he was to have acquired it, he thought. He doubted he could ever have won it in a hand-to-hand fight with his inferior weapons.

But quickly looking around, he realized there was no great chance of that. The Aztecs were in disarray, the French Cavalry tearing apart what remained of the Aztec defence. Apparently most of his comrades had been less fortunate. He started to run back towards the new main battle lines, but he had hardly started towards them when a French Cavalryman caught him from behind. Hearing the horse, he turned in time to parry a blow, but the Frenchman quickly turned for another attack and shouted to his comrades, certainly to let them know an Aztec survived here.

Ten seconds later, the Frenchman had turned his horse around, and Tochtli was battling for his life with the horseman. Every time he tried to kill the horse the rider blocked his blow, and he was barely able to defend himself even with the steel sword. Then pain erupted from his back, a numbing but excruciating pain. Shouting in pain, he blocked one more blow from the horseman. With all his effort he brought the sword around again, anticipating another effort from the horseman, but instead the horseman whipped his horse away from him, towards another battle. Tochtli was confused, but looking down he realized why - another horseman had stabbed him straight through his chest with a spear. He knew then he was dead. Looking around the battlefield as he sunk to the ground in pain, he realized his city was defeated as well. The French had dominated across the battlefield.

Oh cruel fate, he thought. He lay here now with hardly five minutes left to live, and five minutes ago he had thought the rainbow symbolized his triumph. Yet it was the French who had triumphed, and after witnessing their cavalry and their weapons, he had a feeling that the French would triumph many more times.

http://i152.photobucket.com/albums/s193/Quintillus/Vive%20la%20France/0297_Tzintzuntzen.png

Oi, it's been a while...

Been playing mostly Civ4 and Team Fortress 2 for the last few months. When I decided to come back to Civ3 a few days ago (still not sure which one I like most) I remembered Conquest of the World. A friend told me you'd finished it, and since the last time I checked the topic was sometime in November, I decided to finish reading it. Only problem was, I couldn't remember where I had stopped nor did I remember anything that had happened thus far aside from early rivalry with the Dutch.

Three days of Archive Trawl (http://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/ArchiveTrawl) later, I discover not one, but two new Quintillus games? I'll be sure to keep an eye on this one, at the very least. Always did like the French, especially with the boost they got in Conquests.

297 B.C. - Antoine's stomach growled, and he wished he could join his comrades in devouring the wild boar they had killed that afternoon. They hadn't had a feast like this in weeks, and tonight was his night to be on guard duty.

As he twiddled his thumbs and thought of the meat his company was enjoying, the sun sank below the trees on the horizon. Once it was entirely dark his shift would be up, and then he could gorge on what was left of the boar. He looked back at the campfire longingly. There should be more than enough left, he judged. He turned back and slowly scanned the horizon again. Would it really matter if he came down from the watch tower early?

http://i152.photobucket.com/albums/s193/Quintillus/Vive%20la%20France/297_Warrior.png

But then he saw something moving on the southern horizon. Whatever it was, it was moving quickly. Probably a deer being chased by a wolf, or something similar. Odd that it should be heading out of the forest and into the plains, though. Perhaps he should keep an eye on it, he thought.

As the creature came closer, though, he saw that it was not a deer at all, but rather a horse and Aztec rider. And they were coming decidedly in the direction of the camp.

"Horse and rider approaching!" he yelled down to his comrades. "No sign of an army."

"Got it, Antoine!" yelled the brigadier in return. "Keep watching them."

Antoine kept a close eye on the rider, and looked around for signs of an army as well. The rider kept coming, but no army appeared. Still, it was likely a scouting party. They came every month or two, making sure the French weren't causing any problems, and though the French always had to be prepared in case there was an army behind the hills, there had, thus far, never been any actual fights.

This rider was acting strangely, though. He was not being at all stealthy, a principle most scouts gave at least token payment to, and he was riding at a full gallop, sure to exhaust his horse before he finished his scouting mission. Antoine would have thought a predator was chasing the rider's horse, but he saw no sign of predator behind the horse. Perhaps it had been spooked and the rider had yet to calm it down.

Three minutes later, the horse was still galloping full speed towards the camp, only slightly slower than it had initially been traveling. Antoine was now sure it was heading for the camp.

"Visitors!" he shouted below. "One horse and rider!"

"Order them to stop when they're within ear's range or we may have to stop them by force," replied the brigadier. He grabbed one more piece of boar as he got up from the feast.

"Yes sir!" Antoine saw his commander bring together ten men to meet the rider, armed with axes in case a confrontation was necessary.

Two minutes thereafter he called out to the rider, "Halt! Identify yourself, by the order of the Free Free Encampment by the Yolihuani River," ordered Antoine.

"I bear a message of utmost importance from Itzcoatl in Tenochtitlan. I mean you no harm," replied the Aztec.

Antoine glanced down at his brigadier, who gave him the okay to let the visitor in.

"Enter, but at a walk," Antoine told the Aztec. "If you attempt to harm us, we are armed."

"Very well," replied the Aztec, who motioned his horse forward at a walk.

"Greetings," said the French Brigadier when the Aztec had reached the camp. "Would you care for some wild boar?"

The Aztec glanced in the direction of the fire, considering taking up the offer after his long ride. "No, I must not," he replied, turning back towards the brigadier. "My message is of utmost importance - "

"Oh, come on, what's an hour with friends?" asked the brigadier. "Just because we aren't Aztecs doesn't mean we aren't friendly."

"Sir, you must understand, the message is most important - "

"Come, now, we haven't had a guest in ages. There's more than enough boar, enjoy some."

The Aztec was about to object again when his stomach growled, giving away his hunger. He couldn't very well refuse the offer now, so he agreed. "Very well, I'll take some. Thank you. But I'm not sure you'll be so generous after I tell you the message."

"How bad could it be?" asked the brigadier. He was in a jolly mood, the rare feast having improved everyone's spirits. "Have some food first, then we can discuss the message."

After the Aztec had had his fill, he started back towards his horse with the French commander.

"Now, you said you had a message?" inquired the Frenchman.

"Er - yes," said the Aztec. He had known this would happen, nearly forgetting his task. "Well, I'm sorry to have to give it to you after such an excellent evening, sir. But I'd afraid I must inform you that our two nations are now at war."

"At war?" asked the French commander. "As in, no longer at peace?"

"Yes, that is what I mean," said the Aztec.

"You can't be serious," said the Frenchman in disbelief.

The Aztec pulled out a scroll from his bag. "Here is the copy of the French declaration of war copied by royal scribes and authenticated by King Itzcoatl himself."

The French commander examined it. Sure enough, it bore the royal seal. "The French declared war?" he asked, suprised. The French were weaker than the Aztecs, it was common knowledge, and while Empress Adélaide was a far more decisive ruler than her father had been, he still found it hard to believe she had declared war on the Aztecs.

"Yes, the French declared war," replied the Aztec. "The Aztecs will not begin an offensive against you until three sunrises from now. I must now leave." He mounted his horse.

"Wait a second," said the Frenchman. His contingent surrounded the horse. "I'd like to keep that scroll. Just in case the French didn't actually start the war."

"I assure you, sir, the French started the war," said the Aztec, slightly uneasy with the contingent surrounding him.

"It's not that I don't believe you, but I'd like to have it nonetheless. It's not like we can send a messenger to Paris to verify anything from out here."

The Aztec hesitated. He hadn't been told what to do in this situation. But considering that the French had started the war, he figured there was no harm in complying with the French brigadier's wish. "Fair enough," he said. "Here is the scroll." He handed it over, and glanced at the armed guard.

The Frenchman opened the scroll, verified it was the same one, and motioned his guard away. "Very well. That's that, then. You're free to leave. Will we be seeing you again?"

"No, sir. I'm merely a messenger, not a soldier. My thanks for the boar. I'll put in a word not to execute you if you are captured."

The Frenchman nodded, unsure quite how to respond, and the Aztec turned around and started off. Well, this is quite a quandry, thought the Frenchman. Aztec cities on all sides, no good way to escape, and far from enough force to fight through. But his brigade was at this particular spot for a reason, and now that war had been declared, he had to try to fulfill his mission - to pillage the only Aztec source of Iron.

Quinty! :D Liked it, just one thing:

Two minutes thereafter he called out to the rider, "Halt! Identify yourself, by the order of the Free Free Encampment by the Yolihuani River," ordered Antoine.


Free Free? Intentional French or mistake? ;)

This is great: I really enjoy the in depth conversations even more than your logs as in CotW.

I realize that I'm a bit late, but that's only cause I've been hanging out in Forum Games for the past while. I'll be following this with interest, as well as your other story.

wow another Quint story! Im sure this one will be just as good (if not better) and i promise i will be on my best behavior this time...or at least ill try

Uh, Quint? are you alive?

No, he's working on The Space Race (http://forums.civfanatics.com/showthread.php?t=267051&page=6)

Well, I posted there too, but he still hasn't replied.

Yeah, but you gave him about two hours to post. Don't expect him to reply immediately.