BTS Roleplaying Challenge: Jamaica!

BTS Roleplaying Challenge: Jamaica!

Welcome to the game, mon.

This is my first foray in Stories & Tales, after posting two other games in the Strategy section. My style is half story, half strategy, but I'm posting this game here due to the rather fanciful backstory for this particular game.

But before I begin, I again must bow down now and acknowledge the master of the ALC genre, and general Civilization bon vivant, Sisiutil. He is my Civ hero.

The idea of the Roleplaying Challenge is to provide a challenge not neccessarily by raising the difficulty level, but by giving myself a handicap by “roleplaying” the civilization in question. At the start I will identify the roleplaying particulars. I am open to suggestions on other handicaps. For additional roleplaying flavor, I will try to have most of the posts be "in character," and keep my nerdy strategy comments inside spoiler tags so as not to disrupt da flow, mon.

I anticipate posting a round every day or two, mainly because I have a short attention span and can't stand waiting. Like the ALC games, I ask for your comments and feedback, and I’ll need it, particularly with the rules I've set for myself.

In this alternate Earth timeline, a group of hardy African slaves escaped their cruel captivity on a plantation island, stealing a ship and sailing away. Unfortunately, they had little sailing experience and ran aground on another island. Uncertain of their location and surroundings, they have to fend for themselves and forge their own civilization. Their blend of African heritage, slave experience, and natural creativity and spirituality has resulted in the creation of their own unique culture.

For this game, I have selected Jamaica (Ethiopia). My leader is Slobbamon (Zara Yaqob), who is Creative and Organized. The unique unit is the Buffalo Soldier (Oromo Warrior), a musketeer that is immune to first strikes and begins the game with the Drill II promotion. The unique building is the Stele, a remnant of their African heritage that replaces the monument and additionally grants a +25% culture bonus. We begin the game with Hunting and Mining.

The rules:

• Civics: We will never use Slavery. We will favor the Representation, Free Speech, and Emancipation civics and must choose them when available. We may choose Universal Suffrage when it becomes available.
• We must aggressively pursue the "mystic herb" (i.e., spices), securing a source within our borders.
• When we have learned Gunpowder, we must send forth our Buffalo Soldiers in a war against a civilization that has wronged us.
• We may only build World Wonders that generate great artists or great prophets.
• We can only pursue a Cultural or Diplomatic (AP or UN) victory.
• We will favor Mansa Musa (see below for list of AI civs), leader of another civilization of freed slaves, over other civilizations so long as we can also pursue the objectives above.
• The first civilization we meet (other than Mansa Musa or Montezuma) will be presumed to be the slaving oppressors from whom we fled. Accordingly, we will never trust them or trade with them and will seek aggressive action against them to liberate the old colonies if possible.

These rules are slightly limiting; no slavery is probably the most significant. As my prior games were at Prince, with harder RP rules, I will attempt this game at Monarch difficulty.

This game’s settings: Monarch difficulty, archipelago map, tropical climate, standard size, epic speed, ancient start. I have also chosen our AI opponents to give the game a colonial Caribbean feel: Victoria, Washington, Willem, Isabella, Montezuma, and Mansa Musa.

The starting screenies (note: I moved the scout to provide a better view of the island) ...





Slobbamon looked to his people crawling to the shore from the raging sea. Many had died from the storm and the sharks that followed it. The salt of the women's tears mixed with the ocean salt on their faces. The men were exhausted from their labors.

"We got to get all dese tings from the ship, mon!" he yelled. "Hurry!"

The escapees at length gathered what little cargo remained on the ship -- tools, cloth, and dried food, and looked at the island.

"Fresh water! It is near! Dis way, my brothers!"

Strategy Comments re: Settling, Tech Order, Build Order, and Wonders:

I'd try for Stonehenge and the Oracle!

Looking forward to this.

Another editorial comment:

Great! I really enjoy your writing. The Gandhi game kind of dropped of in story frequency near the end.

I'd settle 1E, as I'm not a fan of settling on plains hills. I am, however, a fan of settling on plains.

Round One: People Get Ready

Slobbamon surveyed the island from the top of the hills, the ocean waves crashing against the cliffs below him. There were so many things to consider, now that they were free. It was one thing to lead a slave revolt and escape; it was an entirely different thing to start a brand new settlement from scratch.

He sighed as he smoked the last bit of his mystic herb and pondered until sunset.

The people had a meager evening meal of small fish and game. After the singing, eating, dancing, and more singing, they retired for the evening.

Slobbamon asked a few people to seek him out at the bonfire after the meal. One by one they sat on the ground, glad to be alive but weary of what they had been through, and of what would surely come. He looked into their faces and nodded.

“Dis here is the council of Jamaica, mon,” he said, indicating all of them with his hands extended. “What is Jamaica? Dis is Jamaica. We are Jamaica. Dis place is our new home. We got to make it our home. We got to learn how to be free, how to rule ourselves, how to protect ourselves so we be no man’s slave again.”

Murmurs of approval were heard all around.

“Dat’s all well and good, Slobbamon, but we have to eat. We need food for the strong men and the babies and for the mothas,” Miss Molly said.

“I saw some of the big buffalo further north, mon,” intoned Mistah Pookie. “And clams the size of your fist off the shore. There be food in dis place, food for everyone. We just got to move the people dere.”

Little Kirby cleared his throat. “I just know we need to get offa dis cliff, mon. Ships could be seein’ us from miles away. We got to move.”

Slobbamon nodded sagely, the thoughts bouncing around his mellow mind.

“We get movin’ in the mornin’, den. We agree? Good. Pookie, you keep lookin’ north and see what you can see.”

"Dis is the Exodus, mon. The movement of Jah people."

--

The council gathered on another hill, to the north of their shipwreck, on the far side of the lake in the middle of the island.

"So wat you tink, eh council?" Slobbamon asked.

"We gots food to eat," Miss Mollly said.

"Dis hill is out of sight from the coast, mon. We defend dis new home good, Slobbamon," added Little Kirby.

"The womens be lovin' dis place. Look!" Mistah Pookie said, pointing at the women gathered at the lakeshore. Blue saphhires and red rubies were found laying on the lakeshore.

"We call dis place Da Shine, den. Open your voices, people of Jamaica! Dis be our home!!!" Slobbamon shouted.





He looked to the north, but there was nothing but trackless jungle on a small finger of land jutting into the sea. Pookie turned to the south and east, following the coast, to see what he could see.

“Ah, other people are here on the island,” he murmured to himself. “Mebbe dey join Jamaica and can show us the way to the mystic herb.”



The people of the village greeted Pookie heartily. They were Africans, stranded on the island before they reached the plantations of their owners.

"You from the old country, den?" he asked their elder, speaking in the bits of Bantu he remembered his mother using.

"Yes. Let us join your tribe and unite against the slavers! We can teach you much of farming the food of the earth."

"Dat sounds good, mon. We plantation people, workin' the land for the cash crop." The lanky man stopped in thought. "You see the mystic herb around here?"

The elder shook his head sadly, but prepared his eager people for the journey westward to Jamaica.



Little Kirby ran into the center of the settlement, a wide grin on his mammoth face. "Come see, Miss Molly! Food for the peoples!"

Behind the muscular Kirby came a tall man with a bulky bag over his shoulder. He dumped the contents on a large, flat stone, and dozens of large clams poured out. Molly clucked her tongue in approval.

"You go now and let Miss Molly handle the cookin'. Go now," she said, giving the man a smile.

"Oh, Miss Molly she like you, Sugah," Kirby said.

He laughed sardonically. "As long as I be bringin' in the clams, oh yes. But I be thinkin' we need to look around the other islands. See wat we can see, as Slobbamon say."

"Just keep bringing' the clams, mon," Kirby said.



The next day, one of the newcomers, a boy, came with a roughly-drawn map of the island. He handed it to Slobbamon. "Pookie" was all the boy said, and the rest of the Council took a look at it:





"Dat be too much land for Mistah Pookie to see at once. I will go to help him watch over it until we can claim it for our people," Kirby offered.

"You be careful den, warrior mon," Slobbamon said, patting the muscular man on the back. "You be safe, and we send more people to the east soon."

As Little Kirby left, a pretty young woman looked worried. "He be safe, dat one, Topsy, don't you worry," she thought.





Slobbamon spent much of his time contemplating. He did this in many places; by the lake, on the hilltop, in the fields where the buffalo grazed. He'd never felt so close with nature, with the Earth. If only he had some of the mystic herb, he thought.

He had been so lost in thought that he hardly noticed the buffalo calf that had tentatively approached him.

"You lookin' for your motha, little mon, eh? Slobbamon take you to her, you see."

He led the calf to where he'd last seen the herd, and the beast quickly ran to rejoin. And then Slobbamon chuckled.

"We are the herd, yes we are. We are like dese buffalo ... we will bring dem into Jamaica, and dey will bring us to Jah."





The Council gathered up the young men who were able to work in the fields. Slobbamon addressed them.

"You go now and dig in the Earth and tend to the buffalo. Listen to dere voices, and tink about it," he said, cryptically.

The men looked confused but hefted their tools and set out to the fields to the west and south.

"We cannot get closer to Jah until we understand that he is in everyting, mon. He is everywhere."



Topsy ran into Da Shine, breathless. "The masters have come for us!" she shrieked. Panic gripped the settlement.



Slobbamon strode out to the shore alone as the people of Jamaica watched fearfully.

The white men looked at him and laughed. "Back in the boat, slave," the captain of the small ship yelled, and the crew had their hands on their weapons.

"My people are no one's slave. You tell Washy-mon that Jamaica is FREE!" he shouted exultantly.

As the men began to disembark to recover their property, a sudden powerful gust of wind rocked their boat, sending some flying into the surf. The Americans tried to gather their comrades and right the boat, but the strength of the wind carried them further from shore. They cursed loudly but sailed away, to the lusty cheers and singing of the Jamaicans watching from the hill.

"Jah be praised!" Slobbamon yelled.

It was then that he saw the white arm reaching out from the water. Instinctively, he dove into the sea, paddling to the drowning man. After a few minutes of rough swimming, he drug the lifeless American to the shore. Many of the others had run down from the cliffs to see what had happened.

"Dis man is alive!" Miss Molly said.

"Wat will we do with him?" others asked.

"Dat is for the council to decide, brothers and sistas. For now ... take him to Da Shine. Feed and ... please, bathe him, mon."

The events on the beach were on Slobbamon's mind always. It was nothing short of divine intervention, as was the young American man's life being spared. What was Jah telling him?

"We need to glorify Jah. Without Jah, there is no freedom. Jah is many tings, but is he one or many?"





Sugah, the fisherman, found Slobbamon discussing something on the hilltop with the rest of the Council. They stopped and greeted him, smiling.

"You ready for a long trip, mon?" Miss Molly asked, a twinkle in her eye.

"If the Council say sail to the moon, Sugah go to the moon, Miss Molly," he replied, with a slight nod. The gathered leaders of Jamaica laughed.

"Go den, Sugah, and seek out the islands. See what you can see. See what evil breeds in America, but come back mon. Come back," he added, clapping the taller man on the shoulders.

Utterly alone, Sugah left to set sail in his trusty boat (the ship's boat from their shipwreck, he often remembered with a laugh), to see what he could see.

The Council resumed. "Now, let us decide where to put the sacred Stele," Slobbaman continued. "Do the peoples of Jamaica believe?"

"Dey believe," Topsy said.

"Den let Jah see der labors and hear der voices!"









Little Kirby found Slobbamon in contemplation at the Sacred Stele.

"Jah alone cannot protect us," the warrior said. "We must learn how to defend ourselves. The slavers will return. Dis you know."

"We must make tools of war, den. Talk to the Worker Mons. See if dey can work the metal of the ground."


"More sailors from other lands have found Jamaica," Topsy said, interrupting. "Dere spokesmen have arrived."

"Den let us meet them, but be wary, Topsy ... for all of the white men seek power over Jah people." He and the bouncy young woman left his hut, leisurely strolling to the seaside where the emissaries awaited.




"Dere is no metal here, mon," the worker said. Little Kirby was getting impatient. Then, in the distance he saw a boat sailing towards Jamaica. Sugah's boat.

"The orange metal! It is to the south! In America!" Sugah yelled when he was within earshot.

The news traveled quickly to the Council. "It is agreed, den. We will settle Jamaica and den ... dose who are willing, will sail south to the land of oppression, to begin our war of liberation!"

"We will need bigger ships to carry the men across the water," Sugar said.

"Work with the worker mons. Build a bigger ship, Sugah. And then you, Mistah Pookie ... you are going for a boat ride, to see wat you can see in the Land of Oppression."

--

One of the other fisherman proved more adept than Sugah with the larger boat they'd cobbled together.

"You sure you can drive dis boat, mon?" Sugah asked.

"Oh yes," Captain Reefah replied smokily.

"Where you get that mystic herb?"

"I got my stash mon. I sail bettah dat way. Get Mistah Pookie and let's go!"



"This is the place," the new Jamaican said, pointing to the location of her former village.

"We will settle here, den, in dis Fishin' Ground."





Mistah Pookie stealthily crept along the hills, for though he was 60 years of age, he had no desire to die at the hands of vengeful slavers. He knew what happened to escaped slaves.

"Dey leave dis land to the wild ... but we will make it ours, and use it to free all of the slaves of America," he thought.

Here is the world as Jamaica knows it, and Jamaica proper:





Strategy Comments:

Two spots I'd reccommend:1s of the copper to grab it, the gold, and fish, or 1-2w of the copper.
However, the latter choice requires another city to deny Washington the corn and gold farther east.

If it's only a blocking city, the you could go for 1N of the gold.

The War of Liberation

Michael Killian awoke with a start. He looked around wildly and then remembered: he was thrown overboard! Michael checked himself for injuries, finding none; but he smelled like a flower and was wearing some kind of smock ... like the kind the slaves wore ...

"Ah, you are awake, den," Miss Alice said. "Eat dis," she said, handing him a bowl with some kind of meat in it. He was ravenous.

"I demand to know what this is!" Michael shouted, pointing at the bowl.

"Jerk."

"What did you call me?"

She laughed heartily. "The food, mon. It is jerk. You will like it. All the mens do. Eat!"

He sniffed at it cautiously, then took a small bite. It was sweet and spicy. Soon Michael found himself wolfing it down.

--

They did not restrain him in any way. Some gave him hard looks, but he held his tongue once he realized his predicament. After his initial shock wore off, he resolved to negotiate his release so that he could return to the colony and report on the slave encampment. He asked after the leaders of the slaves, and they directed him to the hilltop, where a large stone monunment had been erected.

"Sit down, mon, and join us," Slobbamon said. A group of them appeared to be in conversation.

"I ... do not belong here."

"Neither do we, mon! Our ship wrecked here after we escaped your people. We are stuck too ... but where is our home? Our fathers were taken from dere homes in Africa, but America is not our home. So dis place, Jamaica, dis is our home," he intoned. "And where is your home, mon?"

"Ireland. I was born there."

"Ah, the green hills and little sheep, eh? So leave us to our home, and we leave you to yours. But know dat we will never suffa slavery here or in America."

Michael became red in the face and was about to yell when he saw a large man staring him down. He remembered that one ... Kirby, yes, that was his name.

"How can I get back then?"

Slobbamon laughed. "When Captain Reefah returns from his voyage, you may leave if you wish. Until den ... you are in dis free land. And you must work like all of us for your bread, mon."

Michael rose, flushed but silent, and left the Council.

"He will never understand, Slobbamon," Little Kirby sneered. "You saw his face! He wanted a whip in his hand."

"We see how he do with a plow in his hand instead, eh?" Slobbamon said, smiling. "Now, let us look at Mistah Pookie's map of western America."



"The people of Freedom Force must eat. Let dem settle near the orange metal and the fish," Miss Molly advised.

"We are agreed, den."





"You sure about dis, mon? We could use you."

Sugah laughed. "My boat is for fishin', Slobbamon. And on Da North Point, dey need more fishermens. So dere I go."

Miss Molly's eyes were red, but she said nothing. The next day, she left Da Shine in the early morning, left a note that she was leaving the council, and walked all the way to Da North Point.

--

He hefted the weapon. It felt good. Topsy looked at him in alarm.

"Wat you gonna do with dat, Kirby?"

"We gonna free the slaves. All of dem."



"Jamaica is gettin' bigger. We need some rules," Topsy said.

The council argued a bit over that.

"Rules? Laws to end the freedom we have now? No," Slobbamon said.

"Listen!" she shrieked, silencing the others. "Too much freedom leads to some people ruling over others, by strength or bein' sneaky. Laws protect the freedom. Rules so dat no one say the Council is seekin' the power for demselves only."

The members of the council considered this.

"As long as the laws obey Jah's laws," Slobbamon said, convinced.





"The people honor Jah with dis Temple," Slobbamon yelled to the gathered populace. "Let us worship Him and bring freedom to our brothers still in America!"

Jamaica yelled as one.

In the crowd was Michael Killian. In the months that had passed, he'd come to accept his predicament and worked alongside former slaves. He began to understand that there was another way besides domination. But he could not bring himself to fight America. He was torn, and went to Slobbamon in the Sacred Stele.

"You have your history, and you see also injustice. You have two minds on dis, mon. You have seen the whip scars on the backs of the womens. You see the pain we have felt."

"They are my people."

"Your people are misguided. We only fight those enslave."

"Do I have your word that you will not slay all of my kind?"

"You do, mon. I have already told Kirby this. Those who surrender to the freedom of Jah will be welcomed as part of Jamaica."



"They want dis?" Slobbamon asked, astonished.

"Yes, the people want dis. And the Council is agreed," Topsy said. "War is coming. We need to unite behind one man."

He sighed, then gathered himself.

To the gathered masses the next day, he shouted, "I take dis crown as a symbol only. I will be no man's slave or master. And when dis War of Liberation is over, I will take dis crown of jewels off my head and glorify Jah!" The crowd cheered.

Let each of us do wat we must to end the opression in America! If you cook, den cook well. If you fight, den fight hard. If you trade, den make the coin for Jamaica!







"Dis is beautiful," Topsy said, modeling the shiny golden nugget necklace Kirby had given her.

"It is from the south. The worker mons dere pull it from the Earth. And dere now, I must go."

"Take me wit' you!" she cried.

"Dis war brewin' is no place for you ... the freedom we be seekin' will be earned in blood, Topsy."

"Den be mine tonight, my brave one. And return to me," she said, pulling him close.





The fighting men had gathered near Freetown, sharpening their blades for what lie ahead. Little Kirby looked at them and nodded. There was Blademon, exercising relentlessly, and a man as big as Kirby they all called the Mighty Dredd, smiling with the younger warriors. "We will win," he thought.





The warriors quietly stole throught the jungle bordering American lands. Peering through the edge of the trees, they saw it: the settlement of New York. Past the fields and farm settlements, the city itself was built on a hill, and in the distance, bowmen patrolled its battlements. This would not be easy, Kirby knew.

"For Freedom! Let us end the oppression!" Kirby shouted.

They raced across the plain, hoping to surprise the Americans.







Screams of American women were heard as the Jamaicans sprinted to the fortifications. Exodus was cut down by an arrow nearly 100 yards before they reached the wall. The others, enraged, rammed a loaded cart through the front gate, though Doobie Brother, Liberator Mon, Blademon, and Big Axer all died from the defenders' shafts once inside the courtyard.

Slava Killa's axe drove clean through a man, while Mighty Dredd hurled one man into three others and cut them all down as they tried to flee from his wrath. A uniformed American with a sabre dashed to rally his men, but was cut off by Little Kirby. He deftly blocked Kirby's axe strokes and riposted, stabbing into the larger man's side. The American sneered.

"You will die for your impudence, n .."

His final epithet ended prematurely with a furious whirlwind of axe. At the sight of their leader's severed head, the remainder of the garrison surrendered.

"Dis place is now free!!!" Kirby shouted.





Reinforcements slowly arrived from the north and west, after the surviving army had rested.

"We press on, brothas! To Washington!"





Many of the warband wore stern faces. They remembered this place. It was the place where they were born into bondage.

"Do you see? Do you see why we have come?" Little Kirby exhorted, pointing to the fields. "Do you see your cousins enslaved? Can you still feel the sting of the lash? I can. I know you can too. For Freedom!!"

But the men of America were ready, having heard of the invaders' ferocity in the battle of New York. As the warband approached, ambushes were sprung, and the defenders retreated before the Jamaicans could engage them. As they approached the city, their numbers were already thinning from a withering rain of arrows. Half were dead or dying before axes could be brought to bear.

The Mighty Dredd fell, a dozen arrows in his body, and Kirby launched himself into the few remaining defenders ...







He was bloody and wearied, but buoyed by the reinforcements from Jamaica and the newly-freed slaves that bolstered their ranks.

"Hello, lover-mon," Topsy said. He turned and laughed for the first time in weeks. "Did you tink I would leave you?"

"No," he said, stifling the emotion he felt. "But you are armed ... you not be fighting?"

"Yes, Kirby. Some womens join the men in battle. I am wit you," she smiled, looking up at him. He knew he would not win this argument, and looked to the south, where Washington himself had fled.

It was time to end this, he thought.

The army marched to the sole remaining Colony, Boston. Despite their hopeless odds, the Americans refused to surrender, shouting harsh words from their hastily-thrown up barricade.



"It is over, Washy-mon," Kirby said, as Topsy held her axe to the neck of the dignified man on the ground.

"Over? Hardly. It is a matter of time before our English cousins reclaim this land. And what good will your freedom do you then, mmm?" he laughed, spasming and coughing up a bit of blood. Tears of pain were in the man's eyes.

"I will show you the mercy you denied all of our people. Jah take you," Topsy said, coldly, and took his head.

Strategy Comments:

Good so far, I'll keep an eye on this one!

Great story!! This has nothing to do with Sean Kingston and Haile Selassie, right?

As for the cultural victory, definitely Da Shine, and maybe Washington. After that, possibly either North Point with Moai or NYC. No need to do what write though. I'm not that experienced. Usually I use my first three cities.

N E way, keep it up!!

Dis be awesome, mon

Rhythm of Jah People

The liberation of America triggered a period of reflection, celebration, and catharsis in what was now called United Jamaica. As time passed, the people began to put aside their anger from the war and the oppression that preceded it. Slobbamon remained the titular ruler of the land, but ruled with a light touch, insisting only that Jah be glorified and the principles of equality and freedom be followed. Symbolizing this new era of trust, the council appointed Michael Killian governor of Washington.

Killian and his new (and pregnant) wife Alice arrived in the former American colony capital, the mixed race couple an embodiment of United Jamaica.

"Let the people uplift der spirits with song," Slobbamon had said. So while Killian focused the American settlements on restoring production and prosperity, Alice established several communes of musicians and artists throughout the southern provinces, so as to stimulate the hearts and minds of the people and further unify them.





Slobbamon greeted the English emissary heartily, ignoring the warnings of Little Kirby about Washington's dying words.

"You want to trade, mon? The bounty of United Jamaica is here for all to share."

"I notice that many of Jamaica's cash crops go ... untended. Perhaps you would like us to teach you how to cultivate your plantains?" the diplomat asked.

Life on the plantation was not far removed for any of the former slaves. Yet if all worked in the fields and earned their own crops, was that not reaping the fruit of the Earth and glorifying Jah?

"You got a deal, mon."







Music was everywhere in United Jamaica. The beat of Jamaica became ingrained in the soul, and not just from the former slaves. American colonists contributed their own instruments and rhythms, fusing the musical culture with new harmonies.

The garishly-dressed musician came to Da Shine to talk to Slobbamon.

"You hear this music, boss-mon? It is ... the voice of Jah, spoken trew the people," Da Uplifta said.

"Yeah mon. You understand," the leader nodded.

"I want to take dis music to all the peoples of the world, to bring more trade and culture to the land."

"Do it, mon. Let the Aztec and the English and the Dutch hear the sound of freedom."




"Where you want us to go, Guvna?" the leader of the colonists asked.

"Go to the north of Freetown. On the coastal cliffs you can see Jamaica on a clear day. There you will have buffalo and elephant to tend, and gold to mine. Send word when you are settled," Killian said.

"You are wise, husband, but remember to show you heart to dem," Alice counseled after they had departed.

"Yes, love, of course," he replied, but he worried ever about other nations and their machinations. They would not stand for what United Jamaica had become.





Peace had existed for many years in Jamaica since the the Liberation. Indeed, many neighboring nations had adopted the tenets of Jah, including the Dutch to the West and the native Aztecs to the east. The people took this as a sign of Slobbamon's wisdom in spreading music, equality, and the teachings of Jah to the world.

The emissary of the Aztec nation arrived in Da Shine agitated. He strode directly to the Sacred Stele for an audience with the Council.

"We have many needs, Slobbamon," the ambassador said directly. "Montezuma the Great demands that you pay tribute to the Aztec nation."

The leaders of Jamaica reacted with stunned silence. At length, Topsy spoke. "Why you say dis, mon? We leave your lands to you. We bring you music and trade wit you. Dis is not right." Many heads nodded in agreement.

"Do you refuse the demand of the heir of Queztalcoatl?"

"Dat god is false, and Montezuma knows it," Slobbamon said, irate. "His people see the truth of Jah. But the Council here says no to your demand. If Montezuma come as a friend and ask for help, Jamaica is here, mon. But remember dis -- Jamaica will be no one's slave or master. You tell dis to the son of Quezty-mon."







The meeting with the Aztec emissary had left a bitter taste in the mouths of the Council. That changed not two days later.

"Dere are others! Other escaped slaves! Dey have heard of Jamaica and seek relations!" Little Kirby said, running into the Stele.

Even the mellow Slobbamon laughed and shouted at this news. "Let us all go to meet dem!" he yelled.





The Grand Meetin' Hall was finished.

"Here we will have Jamaica's National Council, where all the great people can congregate," Slobbamon said to the gathered people. "We must use our minds and our hearts both in the coming time."





The settlement of the southern provinces of United Jamaica continued.

"A city on the northern coast would allow us to domesticate the wild horses there, as well as harvest the fruit and mine nearby gold. We then need to look to the northeast, beyond New York, at the wild hogs and incense. These are all important resources we need to exploit," Killian said, looking at his rough map of the province.

Alice nodded, rubbing her pregnant belly. The Killians had been a prolific couple; it was their fourth child. "Dis land is bountiful," she said.



The Worker Mons were busy building roads to the northeast, in preparation of the settlement. A company of American archers watched the east, and Da Love Boat, a galley christened by Slobbamon to symbolize the peace of Jah, was cruising off the coast.

"Aztec galleys to the east!" the Worker Mons shouted.

Strategy Comments:

See it this way: those are galleys. If bad, Son of Quetzy-mon can bring to the peaceful lands of Jamaica just 8 units. Quite an unimpressive SoD.

The Aztec War

Captain Reefah guided his creaky ship along the Aztec coast. He was exploring, searching out the lay of the land. And for a source of the mystic herb. Through his clouded mind, even he recognized danger when it approached in the form of an Aztec war-galley.

"Turn the ship about, mon! We got to run!" he shouted.

The Aztecs' arrows, some flaming, pincushioned the ship. As the attackers closed in from downwind, the flames reached Captain Reefah's precious stash. Billowing clouds of sweet smoke wafted onto the decks of the Aztec ship.

By the time the ships locked together for boarding, the Aztecs were so befuddled by the effects of the mystic herb, they were easy prey for the acclimated Jamaican sailors. Leading the way was Captain Reefah, enraged that his stash had been scorched.

"Feel the power of the herb!" he shouted, taking deep breaths of the smoke between sword thrusts.





The bulk of the Aztec war-party landed to the east of Fishin' Ground, on a hill. The catapults began a slow bombardment of the town's defenses. Without sufficient troops to encircle the settlement, however, Jamaican troops were able to reinforce the garrison.

Two companies of Aztecs wielding wooden swords studded with sharpened stones and wearing the skins of jungle beasts, charged prematurely and were easily slain by the defenders. It was time for a counter-attack.





"Montymon will regret invading Jamaica," Slobbamon said to the council. "Send out the fleet to sink every Aztec ship in sight. Let the southern island of the Aztec be free. The people dere will welcome us -- dey worship Jah like us."



Topsy regarded Little Kirby with admiration. "Look at you, mon." He was wearing a leather helmet with a large red feather sticking out of the top. "General Kirby. I like it. I don tink I've ever been carnal with an officer," she giggled.

He smiled but was too nervous to respond. Kirby had always led by example. Now he was having to give orders. But he was ready, and the men were ready. The invasion fleet of Jamaica sailed east.



The war elephants charged the bewildered defenders of Tlacopan, reducing their numbers. Kirby's cadre charged the remaining Aztecs from the beach, liberating the city's Jah faithful from the tyranny of Montezuma ...





"Welcome to Da Shine, mon," Slobbamon said to the Aztec missionary, who stood in awe of the Sacred Stele.

"We come spread the word of Jah," the missionary said. "We have made inroads in the English Empire as well. With but a little coin, we could bring Jah to many."

"Den we will open the coffas of Jamaica to you, mon!"



Kirby's forces were badly wounded from the assault. He used the time to gather replacements and train them in the use of heavier armor and weapons, newly shipped from the southern provinces, courtesy of Governor Killian.

He had ordered the catapults to start bombarding the next city, which was strongly defended on a hill with but one approach by land. He gathered his men and marched to the north, hoping to reach the battle in time.

The walls had been breached and the catapults launched a bombardment directly against the garrison just as the general's men arrived.

"For freedom, brothas!" Kirby shouted and charged, not noticing that many of his men were tired from the trek northward ...



She screamed when she saw him fall and charged, along with the rest of her enraged fellows.



The city was taken, but not without cost. Topsy cradled his head in her lap, her tears raining on his head. His life was nearly spent.

"Is the city free?" he gasped.

"Yes, Kirby!"

"Den we have won freedom for dem," he said, and he closed his eyes.

"Don't leave me! Aaaaaagh!"

He managed a faint smile. "No woman no cry."

His voice trailed off and he was still. Her wails pierced the Aztec city, and the local Jah faithful comforted her as best they could.



"We must end dis. Send the men on ships to take the last city to the east," Topsy said, assuming command.







"Tell the son of Quetzy-mon dat peace is made," Slobbamon said, looking at the pile of tribute from the Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan. "If he play nice, we be friends some day. If not, we bring Jah's fury and come and take his head."

The Aztec emissary bowed and quickly left the Sacred Stele.

"Dese games of nations. It is a strange ting," he said to himself.



Topsy made the long journey home to Da Shine, the bump in her stomach still concealed by the scales of her bronze armor. Her emotions were too raw, still, to speak much about her travails, but word had spread of Kirby's bravery and famous last words, even before she had arrived. Many Jamaicans approached her with simple gifts of remembrance and grief.

When she came to her small home, a musician was waiting for her, and bowed slightly.

"If you please, Miss Topsy, to hear dis bard's song," he said. She nodded hesistantly.

Strumming an ungainly homemade guitar, he crooned, "No woman no cry ..."

But the tears fell down her face, heedless to the music.

Strategy Comments:

Nice! ALMOST (or should I say MUCH) better than Your Native Americal RP!!!

A small 'Garrason' on the desert isle is useful to discourage any stupid 'Monty Rules horsehockyt' attacks.


Go going on the Cultural victory!