Rex Tyrannus
280lbs of gross stupidity
A brief note: I loaded up this game immediately after finishing a PBEM turn with a friend of mine. For some reason, the last message from the PBEM stayed on my screen during the entire set. Huh?
Also, I must appologize for the time this report has taken. This weekend has been frustrating. Anyhow, onto the show...
800 AD
My footsteps echo as I walk through the palace. Alone. So silent and empty. Where is everybody? "Guards!" I call out and get no response. A cold breze sifts in through a drafty window somewhere in the palace. What time is it? It must be close to evening. Shadows in the yard outside are long and the light casts an oragne glow about me.
Somewhere in the distance, children laugh. I smile and follow the sound. It eventually leads me to my private garden where my wife watches my children at play. Joy overwhelms me and I drop to my knees weeping.
"Papa!" says my eldest son. "Lord Father, we're playing dragons and samurai. Have you come to watch." The other children swarm to me with cries of "Papa" and a thousand embraces. I am speechless seeing my children and wife after so long.
"Papa, watch." Again, the eldest trying his best belanced stance. Master Haya has taught him well. Pride mixes with the joy. "Are you watching, Papa?"
In an instance, the joy erupts into grief as an arrow rips through the boy's throat, red life raining everywhere. Men leap from the walls in all directions. Where are my guards? More arrows tear into my children. I have no sword. A man grabs by wife from behind and opens her throat from ear to ear.
"Papa," my boy mouths as blood babbles from the wound, drowning his speech. A horn sounds. My army. Too late, I realize. The horn blows a second time. A moan.
A third time, and the sleeps leaves my body. I am back in bed--alone. The same nightmare I have every night. I grab the cup of wine my good servants have left by my bed to help me to sleep.
The horn.
That was not the drem. It blows again. Attackers, here in Kyoto. My guards burst into the room. It's not as bad as I thought. Not here in the city. Outside. Our workers in the camps have been taken by a Carthaginian raiding party.
So far, my thoughts have not dwealt long on Carthage. Was Hannibal behind the murder of my family? No, it was Stalin. As we speak, the Russian is fighting for his former home.
815 AD
And again, more attacks:
830 AD
Though, if it were Stalin, he must have had help from my old enemy, Octavius. That one has concentrated his efforts in Osaka. I will attack his guard with *my* elite warrior.
But Rome's God's are more kind than Japan's. We lose this battle.
Back to Stalin, I attack his troops in the forests outside Moscow. Fortune favors Japan.
845 AD
My advisors tell me that my vengance has cost me my economy. I have no choice.
My master of war tells me that Rome is preparing a full assault on Osaka. I am uncertain of our future.
Further, our scouts tell us Rome employs an archer we've not yet known. This threat is menacing.
In all this chaos, it is almost pleasant to know that, in places, art is still a treasure.
To be continued...

Also, I must appologize for the time this report has taken. This weekend has been frustrating. Anyhow, onto the show...
800 AD
My footsteps echo as I walk through the palace. Alone. So silent and empty. Where is everybody? "Guards!" I call out and get no response. A cold breze sifts in through a drafty window somewhere in the palace. What time is it? It must be close to evening. Shadows in the yard outside are long and the light casts an oragne glow about me.
Somewhere in the distance, children laugh. I smile and follow the sound. It eventually leads me to my private garden where my wife watches my children at play. Joy overwhelms me and I drop to my knees weeping.
"Papa!" says my eldest son. "Lord Father, we're playing dragons and samurai. Have you come to watch." The other children swarm to me with cries of "Papa" and a thousand embraces. I am speechless seeing my children and wife after so long.
"Papa, watch." Again, the eldest trying his best belanced stance. Master Haya has taught him well. Pride mixes with the joy. "Are you watching, Papa?"
In an instance, the joy erupts into grief as an arrow rips through the boy's throat, red life raining everywhere. Men leap from the walls in all directions. Where are my guards? More arrows tear into my children. I have no sword. A man grabs by wife from behind and opens her throat from ear to ear.
"Papa," my boy mouths as blood babbles from the wound, drowning his speech. A horn sounds. My army. Too late, I realize. The horn blows a second time. A moan.
A third time, and the sleeps leaves my body. I am back in bed--alone. The same nightmare I have every night. I grab the cup of wine my good servants have left by my bed to help me to sleep.
The horn.
That was not the drem. It blows again. Attackers, here in Kyoto. My guards burst into the room. It's not as bad as I thought. Not here in the city. Outside. Our workers in the camps have been taken by a Carthaginian raiding party.

So far, my thoughts have not dwealt long on Carthage. Was Hannibal behind the murder of my family? No, it was Stalin. As we speak, the Russian is fighting for his former home.

815 AD
And again, more attacks:

830 AD
Though, if it were Stalin, he must have had help from my old enemy, Octavius. That one has concentrated his efforts in Osaka. I will attack his guard with *my* elite warrior.

But Rome's God's are more kind than Japan's. We lose this battle.
Back to Stalin, I attack his troops in the forests outside Moscow. Fortune favors Japan.

845 AD
My advisors tell me that my vengance has cost me my economy. I have no choice.

My master of war tells me that Rome is preparing a full assault on Osaka. I am uncertain of our future.

Further, our scouts tell us Rome employs an archer we've not yet known. This threat is menacing.

In all this chaos, it is almost pleasant to know that, in places, art is still a treasure.

To be continued...