Jezner
Oct 31, 2001, 12:50 PM
Preprations for war - - -
During a very long work day, I managed to sneak out on my lunch break and get myself a copy of Civ 3. The video game store said they would only have a few left over units, but upon my arrival I found plenty to go 'round. Yummy. For the rest of the day, I read the manual, preparing for my Civ extravaganza which was slated to happen that night. After a night class, I rushed home, kicked my roommate of my killer rig, and fired up Sid Meir's latest badboy. Oh the fun begins
A fresh start - - -
I haven't played Civ in awhile, so I opted to play as Chieftan to get me warmed up. I stuck with the Americans for no other better reason than I am one. I was tickled to see Abe Lincoln dressed in ancient furs. After a short load span, the game began with a settler, a warrior, and a worker. Cool. Every review seemed to bag on civ for its graphics, but I really like them. The animations rock, too. I built my first city, Wankertopolis. Everything looked kinda of the same, but it was unmistakenly different. I started production of my city's defense and had my workers do a little irrigation. What? I can't irrigate? That's right. Wankertopolis was a coastal city with no fresh water in sight. Wow. Things have changed.
First contact - - -
Caesar was my first contact. He initially offered to exchange some technology. Basically, he wanted my coveted ceremonial burial in exchange for bronze working and 30 gold. 30 gold? When did money enter technology exchange? Going through the diplomatic screens, I realized that you really can offer anything and everything. So I played around. "Come on Caesar," I said. "Give me a couple of your cities, a few hundred gold, and your world maps, and then we might have a deal." Alas, Caesar didn't see the wisdom of the barter. Ultimately, we exchanged technologies with Caesar walking away 15 gold richer.
Empire expansion - - -
As the game progressed, I started building anything and everything. Despotism has definitely changed. It's not really that effective and when you buy an improvement, your city's population decreases. Uggh. I switched to Monarchy which resulted in burning cities. You got it. Anarchy. Great. And the barbarians started attacking. Oops, they sacked one city. Oops. They sacked another. Bastards. I'll get you. Then they started bumping off my workers busy creating my empire's infrastructure. My innocent civs. Butchered. Needless to say, when I'm declared King, I sent in a formidale force of veterans to their home city and wiped them out. Boy that felt good. Barbarians have given me such hell in previous games, its nice to do a little repayment to those savages :)
And then my wise men discovered horseback riding. Lo and behold, multitudes of horses appearred on the map and my cities weren't near any of them. So I sent a few settlers to them right away. Instead of building colonies, I opted to build cities. I built them right on Caesar's border. His arrogance was increasing with each of his trades so I figured a nice military build up might temper his ego.
Once the towns are built, I realized that they weren't harvesting the resources. Huh? I checked the manual again to discover that I must build a road from my capital to the horses. Not a skimply road job in my empire rather a massive undertaking, navigating through swamps, jungles, and between rivers. After a serious amount of turns, my workers reached the horses. Civ congratulated me, telling me of the acquired horse resources. And then I did something which I have always avoided in my civ experience. I connected my roads to the Roman's roads. WHAT!?! Won't they use my roads to wage war against me. Probably. But I was getting some extra revenue to build up my army. And who said I can't use their roads against them?
In closing - - -
By the time I shut down my computer it was one in morning. With my alarm set for six-thirty for work, I realized a cold unfeeling truth. Civilization had done it again. The great time suck had reentered my life. The video game to end all video games had returned with a timesucking fury. And I loved every minute of it.
My roommate thinks I'm nuts for playing this game. It's not a FPS, after all. But he has that look of interest which is often found in the eyes of newly addicted players. Heh heh. "Just play it once," I challenge him. "Just play it once."
During a very long work day, I managed to sneak out on my lunch break and get myself a copy of Civ 3. The video game store said they would only have a few left over units, but upon my arrival I found plenty to go 'round. Yummy. For the rest of the day, I read the manual, preparing for my Civ extravaganza which was slated to happen that night. After a night class, I rushed home, kicked my roommate of my killer rig, and fired up Sid Meir's latest badboy. Oh the fun begins
A fresh start - - -
I haven't played Civ in awhile, so I opted to play as Chieftan to get me warmed up. I stuck with the Americans for no other better reason than I am one. I was tickled to see Abe Lincoln dressed in ancient furs. After a short load span, the game began with a settler, a warrior, and a worker. Cool. Every review seemed to bag on civ for its graphics, but I really like them. The animations rock, too. I built my first city, Wankertopolis. Everything looked kinda of the same, but it was unmistakenly different. I started production of my city's defense and had my workers do a little irrigation. What? I can't irrigate? That's right. Wankertopolis was a coastal city with no fresh water in sight. Wow. Things have changed.
First contact - - -
Caesar was my first contact. He initially offered to exchange some technology. Basically, he wanted my coveted ceremonial burial in exchange for bronze working and 30 gold. 30 gold? When did money enter technology exchange? Going through the diplomatic screens, I realized that you really can offer anything and everything. So I played around. "Come on Caesar," I said. "Give me a couple of your cities, a few hundred gold, and your world maps, and then we might have a deal." Alas, Caesar didn't see the wisdom of the barter. Ultimately, we exchanged technologies with Caesar walking away 15 gold richer.
Empire expansion - - -
As the game progressed, I started building anything and everything. Despotism has definitely changed. It's not really that effective and when you buy an improvement, your city's population decreases. Uggh. I switched to Monarchy which resulted in burning cities. You got it. Anarchy. Great. And the barbarians started attacking. Oops, they sacked one city. Oops. They sacked another. Bastards. I'll get you. Then they started bumping off my workers busy creating my empire's infrastructure. My innocent civs. Butchered. Needless to say, when I'm declared King, I sent in a formidale force of veterans to their home city and wiped them out. Boy that felt good. Barbarians have given me such hell in previous games, its nice to do a little repayment to those savages :)
And then my wise men discovered horseback riding. Lo and behold, multitudes of horses appearred on the map and my cities weren't near any of them. So I sent a few settlers to them right away. Instead of building colonies, I opted to build cities. I built them right on Caesar's border. His arrogance was increasing with each of his trades so I figured a nice military build up might temper his ego.
Once the towns are built, I realized that they weren't harvesting the resources. Huh? I checked the manual again to discover that I must build a road from my capital to the horses. Not a skimply road job in my empire rather a massive undertaking, navigating through swamps, jungles, and between rivers. After a serious amount of turns, my workers reached the horses. Civ congratulated me, telling me of the acquired horse resources. And then I did something which I have always avoided in my civ experience. I connected my roads to the Roman's roads. WHAT!?! Won't they use my roads to wage war against me. Probably. But I was getting some extra revenue to build up my army. And who said I can't use their roads against them?
In closing - - -
By the time I shut down my computer it was one in morning. With my alarm set for six-thirty for work, I realized a cold unfeeling truth. Civilization had done it again. The great time suck had reentered my life. The video game to end all video games had returned with a timesucking fury. And I loved every minute of it.
My roommate thinks I'm nuts for playing this game. It's not a FPS, after all. But he has that look of interest which is often found in the eyes of newly addicted players. Heh heh. "Just play it once," I challenge him. "Just play it once."