Gooblah
Heh...
- Joined
- Jun 5, 2007
- Messages
- 4,282
Well, my computer problems have finally been fixed. Well, not really. I've reverted to Vanilla Civ4, and have rediscovered the Greek World scenario. Seeking inspiration from Sisutil and other greats of this forum, as well as the legacy of Rome, I will create this story detailing the Roman domination of the Mediterranean.
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The tribe was growing restless.
We must settle here! Those damn Etruscans and Greeks have left us with almost nothing!
A shout of approval met the young mans words. His eyes surveyed the crowd. Good, noone was opposing him, though some remained silent. Another man stepped forward. Romuluss eyes glazed over. His brother, Remus, was once again calling for war, his deep voice appealing to the carnal instincts of men. It was Remus who had always favored battle; since the two had been left for the wolves, Remus had fought first and though later, if at all. Romulus favored a more calculating approach. His tribe had been pushed back from the north by the Etruscans, the people of the large kingdom on the north bank of the River Tiber. To the south and west lay Greeks, but not those led by the immortal Pericles. Rather, these Colonial Greeks, as they favored themselves, chose to war periodically with the mother country and the surrounding nations. The only true Civilizations were to the south. The Phonecians resided on the south banks of the Mare Mediterranae, but they remained hostile to the Romans. Slowly Remus wound down, but the crowd remained hungry for more. Chants of Kill the Etruscans! and Long live the Tribe! ran through the male assembly.
May I suggest a compromise? Romulus held up both his hands and signaled for calm. He paused, then began to speak. Regardless of our military might, an Empire must have a capital. Thus, the fate of our nation will be decided on this very night. He stripped down to a loincloth. The crowd gasped. Brother Remus! I challenge you to a duel! The winner will lead this nation and give his name to the capital. The loser will die and become feed for the crows! Laughing, Remus imitated the motion. Two daggers were produced and handed to the brothers. The two marched outside into the bitter morning air, with the crowd of spectators growing. As soon as they stepped out of the tent, Remus initiated the battle with a lunge towards his brother. Romulus cleanly sidestepped, bringing his dagger around to his left in one swift motion. It was met by iron, creating sparks. A feral grin stretched across both faces as they thrusted and parried. Thin lines of blood soon trickled down limbs and torso. The dirt beneath them was slowly dyed a light red as their energy was slowly sapped from their limbs. Finally, Remus took one last chance. Leaping at his brother, he took his dagger and plunged downwards, attempting smash Romuluss knee. Suddenly, a foot connected with his groin. Drawing up in pain, he clutched himself and writhed in agony. Romulus stood over his brother.
Remus, you fool! It was by your idiocy I was forced to slay you! With that, Romulus cleanly plunged his dagger into Remuss chest, and the second brother fell, dead. Romulus looked around at the male faces, expecting shouts of congratulation. Instead, he was met with mouths in thin line, and glares of hatred sparkling in every eye. Remus is dead! We will settle here! The capital will be known as Romulus stopped short as he looked down at the iron protruding from his neck. With a gurgle, he fell. A man in his thirties withdrew the weapon, wiped it clean on the grass, then straightened.
The capital will be known as Rome. However, the honor of the battle will fall to Remus, for his name shall adorn the gate to the city. Slowly, the men of the tribe knelt before him. Julius Caesar simply smiled. Soon, Rome would be the jewel of the world. And he would lead it.
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-----
The tribe was growing restless.
We must settle here! Those damn Etruscans and Greeks have left us with almost nothing!
A shout of approval met the young mans words. His eyes surveyed the crowd. Good, noone was opposing him, though some remained silent. Another man stepped forward. Romuluss eyes glazed over. His brother, Remus, was once again calling for war, his deep voice appealing to the carnal instincts of men. It was Remus who had always favored battle; since the two had been left for the wolves, Remus had fought first and though later, if at all. Romulus favored a more calculating approach. His tribe had been pushed back from the north by the Etruscans, the people of the large kingdom on the north bank of the River Tiber. To the south and west lay Greeks, but not those led by the immortal Pericles. Rather, these Colonial Greeks, as they favored themselves, chose to war periodically with the mother country and the surrounding nations. The only true Civilizations were to the south. The Phonecians resided on the south banks of the Mare Mediterranae, but they remained hostile to the Romans. Slowly Remus wound down, but the crowd remained hungry for more. Chants of Kill the Etruscans! and Long live the Tribe! ran through the male assembly.
May I suggest a compromise? Romulus held up both his hands and signaled for calm. He paused, then began to speak. Regardless of our military might, an Empire must have a capital. Thus, the fate of our nation will be decided on this very night. He stripped down to a loincloth. The crowd gasped. Brother Remus! I challenge you to a duel! The winner will lead this nation and give his name to the capital. The loser will die and become feed for the crows! Laughing, Remus imitated the motion. Two daggers were produced and handed to the brothers. The two marched outside into the bitter morning air, with the crowd of spectators growing. As soon as they stepped out of the tent, Remus initiated the battle with a lunge towards his brother. Romulus cleanly sidestepped, bringing his dagger around to his left in one swift motion. It was met by iron, creating sparks. A feral grin stretched across both faces as they thrusted and parried. Thin lines of blood soon trickled down limbs and torso. The dirt beneath them was slowly dyed a light red as their energy was slowly sapped from their limbs. Finally, Remus took one last chance. Leaping at his brother, he took his dagger and plunged downwards, attempting smash Romuluss knee. Suddenly, a foot connected with his groin. Drawing up in pain, he clutched himself and writhed in agony. Romulus stood over his brother.
Remus, you fool! It was by your idiocy I was forced to slay you! With that, Romulus cleanly plunged his dagger into Remuss chest, and the second brother fell, dead. Romulus looked around at the male faces, expecting shouts of congratulation. Instead, he was met with mouths in thin line, and glares of hatred sparkling in every eye. Remus is dead! We will settle here! The capital will be known as Romulus stopped short as he looked down at the iron protruding from his neck. With a gurgle, he fell. A man in his thirties withdrew the weapon, wiped it clean on the grass, then straightened.
The capital will be known as Rome. However, the honor of the battle will fall to Remus, for his name shall adorn the gate to the city. Slowly, the men of the tribe knelt before him. Julius Caesar simply smiled. Soon, Rome would be the jewel of the world. And he would lead it.
---
Spoiler :
