Neal strode past his general and into his throne room. Rome was an unprecedented opportunity, but there was no time to waste. The colonnaded Palace was strangely empty. Footsteps echoed as the King of the World approached his seat of power. Two mustachioed advisors flanked him as he strode down the hall. Neal, used to surprises, took the flunkies' appearance in stride, and merely asked them for advice.
The man on the left, his toga trimmed in red, immediately piped up. "It's-a me, Advisor Mario!" Neal hadn't asked for a name, but it would come in handy. "I believe-a we should continue to build-a the Aqueduct. The Aqueduct, she make-a the people happy. Without running water, how we learn-a the plumbing?"
Neal rolled his eyes. "Aqueducts make people healthy, not happy. And Rome is too small for Health to be a concern anytime soon." He turned to the other advisor, in green. "What do you have to say?"
"Don't-a take any advice from-a Luigi," Mario cautioned quickly. "He is-a my brother, but he's-a crazy!" Luigi (
of course he would be Luigi, Neal inwardly groaned) silently pulled a dagger from under his toga and ran it across his tongue, coating it in blood. Suddenly, Rome siding with the doves as a matter of course made a little more sense. But the neighbors were ripe for the picking.
"Lock him up," Neal said to a Praetorian, nodding at the still-staring Luigi. "and prepare the armories. We're going to beef up the armed forces."
As Rome mobilized, Neal contacted an old friend, looking to make a trade:
"Ah, so now you are a Roman," the Chinese emperor said with a smirk.
"I am. How are things in the east?"
"Quite well. Striking at Japan was a bold move. I trust you have a similar thrust ready for my own neck?"
"Not just yet," the King of the World replied ruefully, "but keep your eyes open."
Tokugawa, bristling at his subservient status, begged for an embargo against his Chinese overlords. Neal brushed him off with a laugh. Catherine, though, had a more serious demand:
The Jackal had declared herself a heretic in a world of the faithful. She was a useless blight festering in the desert. Neal felt no compunctions about severing all ties with Egypt.
After a few decades' worth of military buildup (read: Praetorian spam, complete with Whip), Neal felt ready to strike north, into France:
Louis was a good man, but he was fat, rich, and lazy. Paris and his Wonders would be better off in practical, Roman hands.
Of course, fat, rich and lazy didn't mean unlikable. France had friends willing to come to its defense:
War with the Khan was meaningless, and Russia only meant that eastern borders would need to be watched. But Neal felt the sting of Isabella's condemnation deeply. She was the matriarch of the Buddhist faith, and apparently she found Neal's actions worthy of censure of the highest sort. Caesar would have buckled under this pressure immediately, and, indeed, Advisor Mario suggested just such a course of action. When asked his opinion, Luigi merely twisted the head off the dungeon rat he had been petting in his lap with a look of quiet savagery on his face. Yes, before Caesar could reclaim his throne, Spain would pay for its insolence.
Queen Elizabeth of England, doubtless thrilled at the prospect of freeing London from French cultural pressure, traded Horseback Riding to the Roman war effort in exchange for Monarchy. By 595, the army stood at the gates of Paris:
The battle was long and fierce, and resulted in more than a few casualties. Of course, it also resulted in the birth of a Great General, who was quickly settled in the Eternal City to pass on his expertise to future Praetorians.
When Paris fell, its Wonders were laid bare for all to see:
Louis, unfortunately, still lived, apparently having disappeared off to some hidden retreat somewhere. Neal was vexed, but a hunt for France would need to wait until after a day of reckoning with the Spanish.
In fact, Isabella had the gall to send Settlers out to claim the lush south of France:
Those Settlers, clapped in irons and forced to work Italian vineyards, were quickly disabused from their delusions of expansion.
At this point, Louis was willing to pay well for an armistice, so Neal relented:
The Workers in the screenshot were spared. It was hoped that they would lead to New France, but they simply milled about. This suggests, along with the Galleys that were burned in Paris' harbor, that Louis is off of the continent, likely tucked into Ireland.
As troops filed into position around Madrid, Genghis Khan learned that he had more to worry about than the far-off Romans:
Hopefully, Qin doesn't take too big a bite out of Mongolia. I'd hate to have to take China down a few pegs with a gimpy empire.
Madrid fell, and held the wealth to fund Roman conquests for centuries to come:
And, with that, Isabella, Queen of Spain and Matriarch of the Buddhist See, passed into the mists of history. Note: for those who are curious- I plan on just wholesale skipping people who die, and tacking the extra turns onto an endgame as Roosevelt (or, if he dies off, whoever ends up being last). Most games don't run all the way to 2050 anyway, so I figure this is the best way to do it. Because, as we all know, bootstrapping America is going to be a pain in the butt.
Catherine wanted a hefty bribe to end the war:
But Neal was flush with cash, and the prospect of facing down a rampaging Red Stack didn't thrill him, so he paid it.
As peace spread across the land, and Veteran Praetorians were joined by fresh Catapults in Paris, a strange message was on the wind:
This was India bowing to Persia. Yeah, I know. Confusing.
Jeanne d'Arc, in her Prophetess guise rather than her Generalessa guise, was, fittingly, born in Paris:
She was a warrior-maiden, and we had the Mausoleum in the old French capital. What better use for her than to kick off a Golden Age in which our troops would make one last massive march before control of Rome slipped back into AI hands?
Frederick was given the bad news:
And the army trundled east, towards Berlin. Frederick could keep Antium, for all Neal cared, but Berlin would be taken to make the trade fair.
Much as with the war on France, the strike at Germany did not go uncontested. Hatshepsut, seeing an opportunity to redeem herself in the eyes of her neighbors, declared war:
Upon seeing who she thought would be the glassy-eyed Caesar, though, the Jackal's eyes widened in shock. "It's you!"
"Yes, it's me. I won't be in charge of Rome for too much longer, but I'm coming for you. That's a promise."
Greece, meanwhile, was more passive-aggressive in its tactics:
Honestly, Neal couldn't really fault the Hellenes for this. He would have taken the same opportunity, had it presented itself. And, besides, Neal had all the Praetorians he could use until the changeover would take place. This was Caesar's problem, not his.
After a few turns of bombardment, Berlin was ready to be taken:
And, not wanting to leave too many messes behind him, Neal wrapped up the war with Frederick for a pittance of gold:
Neal had, perhaps, not taken over the known world with his legions, but he had certainly expanded Rome's reach and made her a genuine world power to be reckoned with:
Advisor Luigi was hanged at dawn. Such a monster could not be allowed to roam free. Advisor Mario was shown maps of the expanded Roman Empire, and told that, with even a modicum of force, Rome could be much more than a mere Aqueduct. It was time to bring back Caesar. It was time to move on.
Neal closed his eyes and felt a baking sun and cool, flowing linens. He smelled salt and incense, and heard the hiss of sand on the wind and the roar of waves on the ocean. He opened his eyes:
He looked to his western border. "I told you I'd be coming for you, Hattie."
So we are the Arabs. We are technologically advanced, though perhaps a bit lacking in production, and completely bereft of metals. But, then, so is Egypt, and Hattie hasn't exactly been on my good side lately. I say we send Settlers and Barbarian-killers down the east coast of Africa, research Guilds, and send some Camel Archers and Siege Engines off to ruin Egypt's day. Thoughts?