Shatner
Warlord
First, some background concerning this AAR. Back before I was even done writing up the Khazad AAR , I was dinking around with Fall Further and I noticed the battlemage UU for the Amurites. It looked pretty freakin’ awesome and the concept of having an archmage gish run around with a wand and a sword, leading a charge instead of waiting at the back was simply too evocative to pass up. So I started playing and decided to make a challenge game of it by building only caster units (adepts, priests, firebows and select heroes). My first game went well but I didn’t take any notes so that was a wash. My second game also went well but I made some decisions (mainly focusing on AV) I didn’t like from both a gameplay and story prospective. My third, fourth, and fifth games all ended badly (curse you Jonas!). My sixth game was too easy because I stated with gemstones, two calendar resources, corn, a river, ample hills and freakin’ Yggsdrasil in my capitol’s fat cross. Ironically, Flavor Start said that was my second choice!?... What was #1, endless flood plains covered in gold and copper? I hated giving that game up (especially after my brutal losing streak) but a start like that was practically a cheat. However, game number seven was, in the words of Goldilocks, juuuust right. Which brings us to this game and this story… Finally. I can easily say this has been the most challenging challenge game I have played to date. Once again, I rue Jonas.
One final note: all the stuff about Dain's... responsibility as Caswallan was lifted from this source in this thread.
The Game: Fall Further 050 – patch N
The Map: Pangaea, Normal Size, Aggressive AI, Living World, No Tech Trading, Last Days, All Unique Features, Religion Based Interface, Broader Alignments, Flavor Start
The Difficulty: Emperor
The Speed: Normal
The Rivals: 7 civs, all random
Tebryn of Sheaim: a trouble child and anarchist-in-training
Capria of Bannor: class president and Salutatorian
Daracaat of Archos: a mother’s boy with anger-management issues
Faeryl Viconia of Svaltfar: the class vixen and homecoming queen
Hannah the Irin of Lanun: a loner with an intense personality and perpetually damp hair
Jonas of the Clan of Embers: the quarterback and known pyromaniac
Sandalphon of Sidar: a lad with a trust fund and too much free time, Valedictorian
Dain: Well, this is it; the last time we’ll all be here together before we all graduate and lead our people into a new age. Gee, Capria, what are planning on doing once you leave Erebus High?
Capria: I am going to ensure that discipline and faith see my people into the world. I’ve gone through hell to be the best and so will the Bannor.
Sandalphon: You mean second best, eh salutatorian? Faith is just a distraction; the only world we need is under our feet and not in some god’s vault. Though you may never see us, my people and their accomplishments will outlast you all.
Tebryn: Only if the Sidar are outside the blast radius! This whole world is a mistake and I intend to see it purged.
Faeryl: What? Like Capria after a meal?
Capria: You... you evil, elven hoe. Do the elves of the Winter Court have a weakness to cold because they’re pansies or because they don’t believe in covering their tops?
Faeryl: Ha! Now don’t get your chastity belt in bind. We know it must be hard to squeeze into that armor every morning. Anyway, my people were dressing fashionably before your people even knew their way around a loincloth. We’ve always been superior to you simpletons and we always will be.
Hannah: The world is changing. The world is Change. Either ride the wave or drowned beneath it. Coincidentally, I have plundered all the change from every fountain and wishing well within 20 leagues of this school. I will use the money to finish paying off my boat and then I will sail away. Pray we do not meet on the open sea.
Daracaat: ...You’re weird. Mother says the weird and the weak must be consumed by the strong so the brood can survive. Also, I hope this ceremony ends soon; Mother is waiting to pick me up and she hates to be kept waiting... she gets hungry when she waits.
Jonas: Well, maybe I should feed her a knuckle sandwich! The orcs are the strongest. End. Of. Story. We’ll beat up all you nancy boys and take your stuff and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Dain: Actually, I have theorized that a sufficient application of Force mana could create a barrier which would keep mos-
Jonas: Shut your nerd hole, nerd! All you ever do is study; you’re worse than Sandal-phreak over there. What are you going to do when my people come to take your people’s lunch money; read us to death? Nerd!
Dain: You mock me but your muscles are finite, whereas the arcane is infinite. The Amurites don’t need your brutes, Jonas, or Daracaat’s beasts or Faeryl’s hunters or anything else. We have our magic and it is mighty.
Sandalphon: While I respect your dedication, even I think that is unwise. Who would guard your mages? Who would build your laboratories? Who would-
Dain: Magic can do anything, everything and more! And I have more magic in my little finger than any of you.
Jonas: Not after I break it off.
Daracaat: Not after I feed it to Mother.
Hannah: Not if you lose your hand in a pitched naval battle and have to replace it with a hook.
Hannah: What? It happens more than you’d think.
Capria: The arcane is unwholesome and I would be very worried if you succumbed to its fell temptation.
Tebryn: Don’t listen to any of these sheep; magic IS the answer. That and explosives. If you and your egg heads want to pry at the seams of existence then you’re okay in my book.
Dain: I’ll show you. I’ll show you all! I’ll face the ancient trials, become the Caswallan and my people will become more powerful than any other. And we’ll do it with our minds and our mana alone. By Kyloran’s golden stag, you will all be repayed for each wedgie and insult my people have suffered at your hands.
...
Also, Tebryn, your approval fills me with shame. Please don’t compliment me in the future.
Tebryn: Fair enough, poindexter. Hey Jonas, you wanna set book-boy’s robe on fire before we walk the stage and start our new life of rueing and lamentation?
Jonas: I was hoping you’d ask…
Daracaat: A busy man with legions to command, hopes to conquer Erebus as a Mother’s Day gift
Valledia the Even: An Amurite of subtle but considerable influence, Dain finds her very unsettling
Tebryn: In charge of the debased Sheaim; never amounted to much, just like his mother told him
Capria: Keeping the Bannor on the Straight and Narrow, her moral compass never waivers
Dain kept that robe; burnt, grass stained, torn in places by Jonas’ spikes, smelling of lighter fluid and (faintly) of Dain’s own urine. He hung it up in his wardrobe so that it was the first thing he saw every morning (or the second if one of his appointments ran through the night). It was the image of that robe that drove him as he went through the Cave of the Ancestors and became the Caswallan. It continues to remind him, as he leads the Amurites, of the numerous obstacles his people must overcome. The jocks were out there, gathering their forces, and the Amurites would have to face them eventually. Gulp…
Cevedes was founded within two days march of the ruins of Patria, the remains of the greatest empire ever seen on Erebus. Kylorin, sire to the modern Amurites, had been its king once and the Amurites drew strength from it both as a link to their glorious heritage and as a source of salvageable materials (things from the Age of Magic were built to LAST). As a civilization of magical savants, those few who possessed no magical talent were relegated to menial tasks or the ranks of a peace keeping force called the Beadels. The fiercest of these were pulled from detention supervising and hall monitoring duty and formed into an ad hoc defense force; their squad represented the first, last and only warrior of the Amurites and the only defense Cevedes would have for a long while. The story of these unappreciated proctors is told elsewhere.
Uff huff huff uff, uuugh, oooooooh….
“Well, uh, Noranna the Taciturn, it’s been a pleasure. The shower is through there and your robes should be waiting for you in the antechamber.” Sitting up in bed, Dain performed a quick hand gesture, activating a clever application of air magic, allowing him to converse with his secretary, Lirara the Fastidious, remotely. “Lirara, I’m done with my 7 o’clock appointment. What’s the rest of the morning look like?”
“You have Hilden the Nebulous at 7:30, Gamela the Inexhaustible at 8, Kiri the Observant at 8:30, Gamela the Inexhaustible again at 9 AND 9:30. At 10 you have a clothes-on meeting with Valledia the Even to discuss matters of state. Then, at 11 you have one Othmar the Astrologer, a great sage who wants to discuss something called ‘Knowledge of the Ether’ with you. Finally you have a light lunch, followed by your 1 o’clock appointment.”
“Hmm, reschedule my 10am with Valledia, tell her Ms. the Inexhaustible tends to go over time, and then bump up this Othmar fellow to 10:15. I suspect we’ll have a lot to discuss, so have my 1 o’clock bring lunch with them; if we hold the appointment in my lab then food spillage will be less of an issue. Who is my 1 o’clock after all?”
“Me, Mr. Dain, sir.”
“Oh, then bring your notebook as well; I’d like you to take some dictation. I have a theory concerning the use of body magic that could help me clear my schedule in half the time.”
Magic is tricky business. Grab any spindly 6-year old, train him, feed him the right kind of food to make him bulk out, convince him that it’s okay to ventilate those people you dislike and, after a decade or so, you have a grunt. Just about any kid will do and the formula is so simple that every tribe knows how to produce warriors even when they’re too thick to know how to build a proper wall. But magic... sigh. Start with that same 6-year old and train him in the base eldritch arts (recognizing symbols of power, focusing your thoughts, proper enunciation of thaumaturgical phonemes, knowing when to stay inside the circle of protection vs. when to run behind the blast wall... basic stuff, really). Expose him in steady doses to the mana your people have access to WHILE preventing him from getting poisoned, asphyxiated or driven mad from working in the mage guild. After a decade, that boy has a 1 in 3 chance AT BEST of becoming an adept; another third lack the physical attunement to call on enough magic to cast anything larger than a cantrip and the final third are probably dead from a common mana allergy or (more typically) attempting to summon a succubus without using the proper protection (it looks like our Abjuration-Only education is not effective at preventing teen predation). Each adept then has to spend years training to ascend to the ranks of the wizards and finally wield power in excess of what some muscle-bound oaf with a sword can do. That’s the reason it takes more than 3x the hammers to produce an adept as it does a warrior; one schlub + training = one warrior vs. three schlubs + expensive training = one adept (and one dolt and one nasty, nasty mess).
With a few battlecasters (adepts trained to use their magic to enhance their combat prowess), the Amurites were able to expand beyond Cevedes, beyond the protection of the Beadels. In year 82, Uddenarat was founded far to the north in a region overgrown with jungles. Though our workers lacked the implements to quickly remove them, our generalists (adepts trained in casting the spells afforded by our palace’s mana) were capable of lighting the jungles ablaze, causing them to eventually burn down and be replaced with more managable terrain (forests). The city would serve as a buffer between Daracaat (to the north) and Capria (to the north-west), both of whom had been sending scouts into the region and taping “kick me” signs onto the backs of our diplomats.
Dain sat in his study taking notes during one of his rare moments alone. “Unfortunately, using haste to increase the efficiency at which I am able to fulfill my procreative obligation as the Caswallan has proven untenable. While a regeneration spell allows all participants to recover quickly and completely from the bodily injury caused by the friction burns, the act of coupling is hampered by the intense discomfort experienced by one or all involved (with the noteworthy exception of Tilania the Flame ******ant). On the plus side, word of my experiments seems to have spread; Lirara is reporting that many appointments are being cancelled or rescheduled (with the noteworthy exception of Tilania, who has been quite… opportunistic of late). Valledia informs me that she suspects both Daracaat and Tebryn of building up for an invasion. While the latter is isolated in a single city surrounded by desert, and therefore not much of a threat, Daracaat has been very successful in giving his mother room to stretch her many legs. Were he to invade, we would need more forces than we are capable of fielding to prevent from being overwhelmed. Valledia has a loathsome but talented mage under her management (though I could never prove this since Valledia is quite subtle in her on-goings... shiver) named Samael who is an expert on necromancy. He claims that, with full funding for his research, he could produce a technique that would animate and control the mindless dead. The ethical ramifications of this are of slight concern but magic is a tool that is only as evil as the one who wields it, even magic as tainted as necromancy. My major concern is that, with the notable exception of Tebryn, all the world would look upon our use of Death mana with fear and disgust; especially Ms. Militant herself, Capria. I will have to deliberate on this, and the use of mundane and magical lubrication to mitigate friction, in the time to come. Speaking of which, Lirara has just informed me that Tilania has arrived for her 3 o’clock…”
While Valledia is a lackluster mage (by Amurite standards), she is second-to-none at anticipating her political adversaries. In the year 110 Daracaat declared war on the Amurites by sending Dain a silk body bag with his name on it ("Mother made it herself"). Generalists used disembodied eyes to spy on the enemy, allowing the battlecasters to stall Daracaat’s warriors in the smoke-filled jungles surrounding Udenarat. With the great sage William Marlander tenured at the Abruel Azburgoh Academy of Cevedes, the Amurites were able to unlock the secrets of Necromancy by year 128. This was fortuitous because Tebryn declared war in the year 130. However, Daracaat has grown increasingly cautious, amassing his warriors into ever larger groups which threaten to overwhelm the war-weary adepts. The Amurites lack the adepts needed to animate the skeletons necessary to hold off both forces indefinitely. With a swarm of venomous jocks marching on Udenarat, Dain has been forced to resort to measures no sane mage should ever have to consider. “Ahem. Err, Valledia, I need your advice.”
“Yes you do, Caswallan. You have failed to sire us enough necromancers, it would seem. I take it the KY jelly isn’t holding up?”
“No, and my… not the point. Daracaat will conquer Udenarat and we can’t stop him. Even if Tebryn weren’t pelting us from the west with scouts and warriors, we still couldn’t hold back that mama’s boy. We’re stuck between a Jock and a Head Case.”
“So, give Daracaat Udenarat. Give it to him, compliment Mother on her textiles and withdraw our adepts to the capitol.”
“WHAT?! It’s bad enough that our citizenry in the north are going to be nuggied, swirlied and nurpled (not to mention, snacked on by Mother and her multi-limbed children), you expect me to give them over willingly and to kiss chitin!?!”
“Yes. I do because if you don’t Daracaat will take Udenarat the small and expendable and then come for Cevedes the beating-heart of the Amurites. We can’t stop him yet but those egg heads in the academy are busting their humps to unlock the magic that runs through our veins and your loins. Hasn’t that been the plan, hmm? 'No warriors, no swordsmen, no archers; nothing so crude for the Amurites. We only need our birthright, Magic.' Then the pasty and the robed will blow up the muscle-bound oafs who taunted you in high school, showing that nerds rule and jocks drool, right? I’ve read your journals and... not with magic, you dolt; your chamber is heavily warded against all forms of magic (and STDs), but not against servants who know a bribe when they see one. So, I have seen all the drawings in the margins of your old textbooks involving Jonas and a recently summoned pit beast. It was your ego, Dain!, that got us into this mess. And if you aren’t willing to suck up to Mother than not only will all of your people become spider-chow but you will have proven to all of Erebus that you just can’t make it unless you’ve got grunts guarding the borders.”
“… sometimes it was a chaos marauder instead of a pit beast…”
“Pull it together and make the sacrifice that will buy us the time we need. Oh, and once Daracaat’s off our back, smack Tebryn around good and hard for me; there was an incident after the prom that I still owe him for… and Valledia always gets Even.”
So, I gave Udenarat to Daracaat on turn 136. I’m 28 turns away from sorcery, 2nd to last in the score and only have one city. I’m either going to die ignobly to an anarchist or a man who still lives with his Mother OR I’m somehow going to fireball and specter my way out of the Amurite-shaped hole I’m in. GO NERDS!
If you want to play your own version of Revenge of the Nerds(tm), follow these rules:
1) You can only build adepts, firebows and priest units. For extra credit, do it with just adepts.
2) You shall emphasize SCIENCE above all else. Knowledge is Power. Power corrupts. Absolute power rocks absolutely.
3) You must win via the Tower of Mastery. It's the only fitting victory for an Amurite. Plus, the view from up there is GREAT!
4) You shall try to vassalize instead of destroy. Yes, it's a long ways to Feudalism, but there is a finite amount of mana out there and it all belongs to YOU.
5) No heroes except arcane and disciple heroes. Sorry Saverous. Bye, bye Bambur. Hello Hemah. Greetings Gibon.
6) There is NO rule six!
One final note: all the stuff about Dain's... responsibility as Caswallan was lifted from this source in this thread.
Revenge of the Nerds: An Amurite Story
The Game: Fall Further 050 – patch N
The Map: Pangaea, Normal Size, Aggressive AI, Living World, No Tech Trading, Last Days, All Unique Features, Religion Based Interface, Broader Alignments, Flavor Start
The Difficulty: Emperor
The Speed: Normal
The Rivals: 7 civs, all random
Scene One
The Place: Erebus High Auditorium, just before Graduation (Theme - Breaking the Ice)
The Time: End of the Age of Ice, cusp of the Age of Rebirth
The Cast:
Dain of the Amurites: Not yet the Caswallan, an awkward youth with ambition to rival his acneThe Place: Erebus High Auditorium, just before Graduation (Theme - Breaking the Ice)
The Time: End of the Age of Ice, cusp of the Age of Rebirth
The Cast:
Tebryn of Sheaim: a trouble child and anarchist-in-training
Capria of Bannor: class president and Salutatorian
Daracaat of Archos: a mother’s boy with anger-management issues
Faeryl Viconia of Svaltfar: the class vixen and homecoming queen
Hannah the Irin of Lanun: a loner with an intense personality and perpetually damp hair
Jonas of the Clan of Embers: the quarterback and known pyromaniac
Sandalphon of Sidar: a lad with a trust fund and too much free time, Valedictorian
Dain: Well, this is it; the last time we’ll all be here together before we all graduate and lead our people into a new age. Gee, Capria, what are planning on doing once you leave Erebus High?
Capria: I am going to ensure that discipline and faith see my people into the world. I’ve gone through hell to be the best and so will the Bannor.
Sandalphon: You mean second best, eh salutatorian? Faith is just a distraction; the only world we need is under our feet and not in some god’s vault. Though you may never see us, my people and their accomplishments will outlast you all.
Tebryn: Only if the Sidar are outside the blast radius! This whole world is a mistake and I intend to see it purged.
Faeryl: What? Like Capria after a meal?
Capria: You... you evil, elven hoe. Do the elves of the Winter Court have a weakness to cold because they’re pansies or because they don’t believe in covering their tops?
Faeryl: Ha! Now don’t get your chastity belt in bind. We know it must be hard to squeeze into that armor every morning. Anyway, my people were dressing fashionably before your people even knew their way around a loincloth. We’ve always been superior to you simpletons and we always will be.
Hannah: The world is changing. The world is Change. Either ride the wave or drowned beneath it. Coincidentally, I have plundered all the change from every fountain and wishing well within 20 leagues of this school. I will use the money to finish paying off my boat and then I will sail away. Pray we do not meet on the open sea.
Daracaat: ...You’re weird. Mother says the weird and the weak must be consumed by the strong so the brood can survive. Also, I hope this ceremony ends soon; Mother is waiting to pick me up and she hates to be kept waiting... she gets hungry when she waits.
Jonas: Well, maybe I should feed her a knuckle sandwich! The orcs are the strongest. End. Of. Story. We’ll beat up all you nancy boys and take your stuff and there’s nothing you can do about it.
Dain: Actually, I have theorized that a sufficient application of Force mana could create a barrier which would keep mos-
Jonas: Shut your nerd hole, nerd! All you ever do is study; you’re worse than Sandal-phreak over there. What are you going to do when my people come to take your people’s lunch money; read us to death? Nerd!
Dain: You mock me but your muscles are finite, whereas the arcane is infinite. The Amurites don’t need your brutes, Jonas, or Daracaat’s beasts or Faeryl’s hunters or anything else. We have our magic and it is mighty.
Sandalphon: While I respect your dedication, even I think that is unwise. Who would guard your mages? Who would build your laboratories? Who would-
Dain: Magic can do anything, everything and more! And I have more magic in my little finger than any of you.
Jonas: Not after I break it off.
Daracaat: Not after I feed it to Mother.
Hannah: Not if you lose your hand in a pitched naval battle and have to replace it with a hook.
…Puzzled Looks…
Hannah: What? It happens more than you’d think.
Capria: The arcane is unwholesome and I would be very worried if you succumbed to its fell temptation.
Tebryn: Don’t listen to any of these sheep; magic IS the answer. That and explosives. If you and your egg heads want to pry at the seams of existence then you’re okay in my book.
Dain: I’ll show you. I’ll show you all! I’ll face the ancient trials, become the Caswallan and my people will become more powerful than any other. And we’ll do it with our minds and our mana alone. By Kyloran’s golden stag, you will all be repayed for each wedgie and insult my people have suffered at your hands.
...
Also, Tebryn, your approval fills me with shame. Please don’t compliment me in the future.
Tebryn: Fair enough, poindexter. Hey Jonas, you wanna set book-boy’s robe on fire before we walk the stage and start our new life of rueing and lamentation?
Jonas: I was hoping you’d ask…
End Scene One
Scene Two
The Place: The Super-Continent of Erebus
The Time: The Age of Rebirth, Year 1 to Year 136
The Cast:
Dain the Caswallan: Leader of the Amurites, now spends more time on Statecraft then Spellcraft-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Scene Two
The Place: The Super-Continent of Erebus
The Time: The Age of Rebirth, Year 1 to Year 136
The Cast:
Daracaat: A busy man with legions to command, hopes to conquer Erebus as a Mother’s Day gift
Valledia the Even: An Amurite of subtle but considerable influence, Dain finds her very unsettling
Tebryn: In charge of the debased Sheaim; never amounted to much, just like his mother told him
Capria: Keeping the Bannor on the Straight and Narrow, her moral compass never waivers
Dain kept that robe; burnt, grass stained, torn in places by Jonas’ spikes, smelling of lighter fluid and (faintly) of Dain’s own urine. He hung it up in his wardrobe so that it was the first thing he saw every morning (or the second if one of his appointments ran through the night). It was the image of that robe that drove him as he went through the Cave of the Ancestors and became the Caswallan. It continues to remind him, as he leads the Amurites, of the numerous obstacles his people must overcome. The jocks were out there, gathering their forces, and the Amurites would have to face them eventually. Gulp…
Cevedes was founded within two days march of the ruins of Patria, the remains of the greatest empire ever seen on Erebus. Kylorin, sire to the modern Amurites, had been its king once and the Amurites drew strength from it both as a link to their glorious heritage and as a source of salvageable materials (things from the Age of Magic were built to LAST). As a civilization of magical savants, those few who possessed no magical talent were relegated to menial tasks or the ranks of a peace keeping force called the Beadels. The fiercest of these were pulled from detention supervising and hall monitoring duty and formed into an ad hoc defense force; their squad represented the first, last and only warrior of the Amurites and the only defense Cevedes would have for a long while. The story of these unappreciated proctors is told elsewhere.
Uff huff huff uff, uuugh, oooooooh….
“Well, uh, Noranna the Taciturn, it’s been a pleasure. The shower is through there and your robes should be waiting for you in the antechamber.” Sitting up in bed, Dain performed a quick hand gesture, activating a clever application of air magic, allowing him to converse with his secretary, Lirara the Fastidious, remotely. “Lirara, I’m done with my 7 o’clock appointment. What’s the rest of the morning look like?”
“You have Hilden the Nebulous at 7:30, Gamela the Inexhaustible at 8, Kiri the Observant at 8:30, Gamela the Inexhaustible again at 9 AND 9:30. At 10 you have a clothes-on meeting with Valledia the Even to discuss matters of state. Then, at 11 you have one Othmar the Astrologer, a great sage who wants to discuss something called ‘Knowledge of the Ether’ with you. Finally you have a light lunch, followed by your 1 o’clock appointment.”
“Hmm, reschedule my 10am with Valledia, tell her Ms. the Inexhaustible tends to go over time, and then bump up this Othmar fellow to 10:15. I suspect we’ll have a lot to discuss, so have my 1 o’clock bring lunch with them; if we hold the appointment in my lab then food spillage will be less of an issue. Who is my 1 o’clock after all?”
“Me, Mr. Dain, sir.”
“Oh, then bring your notebook as well; I’d like you to take some dictation. I have a theory concerning the use of body magic that could help me clear my schedule in half the time.”
Magic is tricky business. Grab any spindly 6-year old, train him, feed him the right kind of food to make him bulk out, convince him that it’s okay to ventilate those people you dislike and, after a decade or so, you have a grunt. Just about any kid will do and the formula is so simple that every tribe knows how to produce warriors even when they’re too thick to know how to build a proper wall. But magic... sigh. Start with that same 6-year old and train him in the base eldritch arts (recognizing symbols of power, focusing your thoughts, proper enunciation of thaumaturgical phonemes, knowing when to stay inside the circle of protection vs. when to run behind the blast wall... basic stuff, really). Expose him in steady doses to the mana your people have access to WHILE preventing him from getting poisoned, asphyxiated or driven mad from working in the mage guild. After a decade, that boy has a 1 in 3 chance AT BEST of becoming an adept; another third lack the physical attunement to call on enough magic to cast anything larger than a cantrip and the final third are probably dead from a common mana allergy or (more typically) attempting to summon a succubus without using the proper protection (it looks like our Abjuration-Only education is not effective at preventing teen predation). Each adept then has to spend years training to ascend to the ranks of the wizards and finally wield power in excess of what some muscle-bound oaf with a sword can do. That’s the reason it takes more than 3x the hammers to produce an adept as it does a warrior; one schlub + training = one warrior vs. three schlubs + expensive training = one adept (and one dolt and one nasty, nasty mess).
With a few battlecasters (adepts trained to use their magic to enhance their combat prowess), the Amurites were able to expand beyond Cevedes, beyond the protection of the Beadels. In year 82, Uddenarat was founded far to the north in a region overgrown with jungles. Though our workers lacked the implements to quickly remove them, our generalists (adepts trained in casting the spells afforded by our palace’s mana) were capable of lighting the jungles ablaze, causing them to eventually burn down and be replaced with more managable terrain (forests). The city would serve as a buffer between Daracaat (to the north) and Capria (to the north-west), both of whom had been sending scouts into the region and taping “kick me” signs onto the backs of our diplomats.
Dain sat in his study taking notes during one of his rare moments alone. “Unfortunately, using haste to increase the efficiency at which I am able to fulfill my procreative obligation as the Caswallan has proven untenable. While a regeneration spell allows all participants to recover quickly and completely from the bodily injury caused by the friction burns, the act of coupling is hampered by the intense discomfort experienced by one or all involved (with the noteworthy exception of Tilania the Flame ******ant). On the plus side, word of my experiments seems to have spread; Lirara is reporting that many appointments are being cancelled or rescheduled (with the noteworthy exception of Tilania, who has been quite… opportunistic of late). Valledia informs me that she suspects both Daracaat and Tebryn of building up for an invasion. While the latter is isolated in a single city surrounded by desert, and therefore not much of a threat, Daracaat has been very successful in giving his mother room to stretch her many legs. Were he to invade, we would need more forces than we are capable of fielding to prevent from being overwhelmed. Valledia has a loathsome but talented mage under her management (though I could never prove this since Valledia is quite subtle in her on-goings... shiver) named Samael who is an expert on necromancy. He claims that, with full funding for his research, he could produce a technique that would animate and control the mindless dead. The ethical ramifications of this are of slight concern but magic is a tool that is only as evil as the one who wields it, even magic as tainted as necromancy. My major concern is that, with the notable exception of Tebryn, all the world would look upon our use of Death mana with fear and disgust; especially Ms. Militant herself, Capria. I will have to deliberate on this, and the use of mundane and magical lubrication to mitigate friction, in the time to come. Speaking of which, Lirara has just informed me that Tilania has arrived for her 3 o’clock…”
While Valledia is a lackluster mage (by Amurite standards), she is second-to-none at anticipating her political adversaries. In the year 110 Daracaat declared war on the Amurites by sending Dain a silk body bag with his name on it ("Mother made it herself"). Generalists used disembodied eyes to spy on the enemy, allowing the battlecasters to stall Daracaat’s warriors in the smoke-filled jungles surrounding Udenarat. With the great sage William Marlander tenured at the Abruel Azburgoh Academy of Cevedes, the Amurites were able to unlock the secrets of Necromancy by year 128. This was fortuitous because Tebryn declared war in the year 130. However, Daracaat has grown increasingly cautious, amassing his warriors into ever larger groups which threaten to overwhelm the war-weary adepts. The Amurites lack the adepts needed to animate the skeletons necessary to hold off both forces indefinitely. With a swarm of venomous jocks marching on Udenarat, Dain has been forced to resort to measures no sane mage should ever have to consider. “Ahem. Err, Valledia, I need your advice.”
...
“Yes you do, Caswallan. You have failed to sire us enough necromancers, it would seem. I take it the KY jelly isn’t holding up?”
“No, and my… not the point. Daracaat will conquer Udenarat and we can’t stop him. Even if Tebryn weren’t pelting us from the west with scouts and warriors, we still couldn’t hold back that mama’s boy. We’re stuck between a Jock and a Head Case.”
“So, give Daracaat Udenarat. Give it to him, compliment Mother on her textiles and withdraw our adepts to the capitol.”
“WHAT?! It’s bad enough that our citizenry in the north are going to be nuggied, swirlied and nurpled (not to mention, snacked on by Mother and her multi-limbed children), you expect me to give them over willingly and to kiss chitin!?!”
“Yes. I do because if you don’t Daracaat will take Udenarat the small and expendable and then come for Cevedes the beating-heart of the Amurites. We can’t stop him yet but those egg heads in the academy are busting their humps to unlock the magic that runs through our veins and your loins. Hasn’t that been the plan, hmm? 'No warriors, no swordsmen, no archers; nothing so crude for the Amurites. We only need our birthright, Magic.' Then the pasty and the robed will blow up the muscle-bound oafs who taunted you in high school, showing that nerds rule and jocks drool, right? I’ve read your journals and... not with magic, you dolt; your chamber is heavily warded against all forms of magic (and STDs), but not against servants who know a bribe when they see one. So, I have seen all the drawings in the margins of your old textbooks involving Jonas and a recently summoned pit beast. It was your ego, Dain!, that got us into this mess. And if you aren’t willing to suck up to Mother than not only will all of your people become spider-chow but you will have proven to all of Erebus that you just can’t make it unless you’ve got grunts guarding the borders.”
“… sometimes it was a chaos marauder instead of a pit beast…”
“Pull it together and make the sacrifice that will buy us the time we need. Oh, and once Daracaat’s off our back, smack Tebryn around good and hard for me; there was an incident after the prom that I still owe him for… and Valledia always gets Even.”
End Scene Two
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So, I gave Udenarat to Daracaat on turn 136. I’m 28 turns away from sorcery, 2nd to last in the score and only have one city. I’m either going to die ignobly to an anarchist or a man who still lives with his Mother OR I’m somehow going to fireball and specter my way out of the Amurite-shaped hole I’m in. GO NERDS!
If you want to play your own version of Revenge of the Nerds(tm), follow these rules:
1) You can only build adepts, firebows and priest units. For extra credit, do it with just adepts.
2) You shall emphasize SCIENCE above all else. Knowledge is Power. Power corrupts. Absolute power rocks absolutely.
3) You must win via the Tower of Mastery. It's the only fitting victory for an Amurite. Plus, the view from up there is GREAT!
4) You shall try to vassalize instead of destroy. Yes, it's a long ways to Feudalism, but there is a finite amount of mana out there and it all belongs to YOU.
5) No heroes except arcane and disciple heroes. Sorry Saverous. Bye, bye Bambur. Hello Hemah. Greetings Gibon.
6) There is NO rule six!
By the time my grand assault on the lion failed, I was hit by Armageddon and wasn't able to build any more workers or adepts, and the few adepts I had left were all enraged and went off suiciding against strength 10 bears... *sigh*. 
