All right. Short round, but I'm sick as a Dog Soldier and, besides, I'm at yet another decision point.
Sitting Bull was perturbed. The spirits visited him in his sleep, warning him of the development of far-flung peoples growing in strength and vitality as his own empire stagnated. The citizens of Cahokia and Tenochtitlan enjoyed relative productivity and prosperity, but relative to what? The Maya? Their master doesn't even wear a shirt, for the spirits' sakes! The mysteries of the sea would need to be unlocked, but not until the Native American people could ride the waves from a position of strength.
The spirits knew many secrets. And Sitting Bull knew just the way to make them give them up. All research into Masonry was abandoned. The people were ordered to learn the skill of channeling the gods of wood and sky. As the populations of Cahokia and Tenochtitlan quizzically obeyed their lord's seemingly mad orders, the empire continued to grow, claiming the Gulf of Mexico with the new city of Baton Rouge:
This new land showed great promise, and would add much to Sitting Bull's empire.
Once the secrets of Meditation were unlocked, Sitting Bull was determined to develop a mystical elite, who could guide the people in their quests for enlightenment. Many of the king's advisors considered this insane, for he gambled much for seemingly no gain while fields went untilled and hills went unmined. On the eve of the discovery of Priesthood, though, a young medicine man named Chuang-Tzu gained influence in Cahokia, claiming that he would lead his people through the turbulent times ahead:
Sitting Bull was pleased with this development. All was going according to his mad plan.
The people of Tenochtitlan began construction of a vast temple, where Sitting Bull and his Priests might meditate and learn the will of the spirits. Meanwhile, the medicine men back home were instructed to study the secrets of Writing, so that the instructions given might be recorded for all time. In 1150 B.C., with Writing completed, the people of Cahokia were finally allowed to return to their studies of Masonry, and the streets of Tenochtitlan ran red with blood as Sitting Bull threw everything into the construction of his Oracle:
Sitting Bull awoke from his trance to the sound of wailing in the streets and the weight of a tablet in his lap. He looked down and saw, written before him, the Way of the Spirits, written down in exquisite detail.
He ran through the streets of Tenochtitlan, holding up the tablets for all to see. His Dog Soldiers struggled to keep up and protect him from those who had lost family members in the construction of the Oracle. Enough people listened, though, that a new religion was born:
And born in Tenochtitlan, no less! With the force of the Oracle and the fervor of the new religion, together with the far-off influence of Stonehenge, Sitting Bull knew that Tenochtitlan had gained ammunition in its border skirmishes with Mutal. Chuang-Tzu rushed southwards toward the harsh Mexican desert to spread the word of the new faith.
As Sitting Bull reveled in the embrace of the spirits, the more pragmatic elders of Cahokia sent off a new band of Settlers to lay claim to the Atlantic coast:
Savannah was a strong city, bound to be one of the crown jewels of the Americas.
Pacal, despite his jealousy at Sitting Bull's success, saw that his northern neighbor did, indeed, speak the will of the spirits. He converted readily:
This was to both improve relations and fill Sitting Bull's coffers immensely.
Fifty years after Pacal's conversion, Chuang-Tzu finally reached Tenochtitlan and set himself up as prelate of the Way of the Spirit:
Sitting Bull hated to share power, but the high priest was skilled and loyal, spreading the word and bringing in considerable profit.
In 1025 B.C., Sitting Bull, now adorned with the mantles of the Speaker to the Spirits, stood smugly before his advisors. His gambit had worked. Tenochtitlan was vastly more powerful than it ever could have been before, and the Americas were united in a bond of faith. But there were problems to be addressed. Barbarians were at the gates, burning fields and threatening cities. The quest to claim the continent was going slowly. And Sitting Bull stood at a technological crossroads:
The madness had passed, and Sitting Bull was once again taciturn and calculating. Pottery seemed, to him, the logical choice. Despite his Philosophical nature, Sitting Bull knew that the wheels of empire were greased with gold, and the precious metals of Cahokia and Tenochtitlan and even the valuable shrine could not support his people forever. And besides, the Granaries that could be built with that knowledge would allow his cities to grow substantially. But there were other options. Monarchy would allow Sitting Bull to make himself King in name as well as fact, and would end his happiness problems forever. Archery would be an easy technology to earn, and would beef up city defenses considerably.
The cities were all fantastic, but Sitting Bull feared they might not be enough:
More Settlers were needed, but they also needed Dog Soldiers to protect them from the incursions of the Nationless Ones.
Finally, he spread before him a map of the Known World:
The Rockies were largely quiet. Most of the Barbarian incursions were coming from New England and northern Canada.
So, here we are. It was risky, but I now have yet another easy way to provide Culture and Happiness, and fund expansion, to boot! So what should the next move be? Pump Settlers and Dogs, build Cottages, and crash the economy? I, as always, look forward to the input.
Here's the save:
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)
CoL will help with the expenses, and, having courthouses, you might even suplement the research with some tech theft from Pacal ( you can't trade with him for a while anyway 
