Enders Game 2: Xenocide and the Speakers for the Dead
- Thread starter Speaker
- Start date
Tsukemono5
American Pickle
Happy 21! You're legal! Now (in the US at least) you can smoke and drink and do (cough) other things as well.
[dance]![[party]](/images/smilies/partytime.gif "Party [party]")
[dance]
[dance]
[dance]
Sullla
Patrician Roman Dictator
Hope you have a good one Speaker. 
(It also means you are almost exactly the same age as I am, interestingly enough.)
(It also means you are almost exactly the same age as I am, interestingly enough.)
Sullla
Patrician Roman Dictator
Well, I leave on Saturday the 5th to go to Oxford for a month, during which time I don't know how much access I will have to Civ3. This game may have to go on temporary hiatus while I am away, because I don't think I'll be able to play succession game turns while I'm there. I'm sorry if this upsets some people, but there's nothing I can do about that.
ControlFreak
Not An Addict, Really
Not that I'm a clock watcher but...thats about a month. Did you come back from Oxford Sulla? Hope the trip was a good one.
{kind and gentle bump}
{kind and gentle bump}
ControlFreak
Not An Addict, Really
Anxiously awaiting.
Sullla
Patrician Roman Dictator
Speaker, I am back but didn't start up the game again because I am leaving - again - on Saturday morning on a trip to Florida. There was no point in running the game for a week before I departed once more. For that matter, with the Conquests beta in high gear right now, I doubt I would have time for even one succession game at the moment.
Long story short: This game will resume when I am back to a normal schedule, which should be about the last week of August/first week of September. Until then, enjoy sweet dreams of Temujin and his merry band of Mongols...
Long story short: This game will resume when I am back to a normal schedule, which should be about the last week of August/first week of September. Until then, enjoy sweet dreams of Temujin and his merry band of Mongols...
ControlFreak
Not An Addict, Really
Not to busy to play the Anti-plutocrat though eh Sulla?
Have a good trip to Florida. I hope its vacation and not work.
Have a good trip to Florida. I hope its vacation and not work.
Sullla
Patrician Roman Dictator
Not to busy to play the Anti-plutocrat though eh Sulla?
11 turns in the ancient age on Regent is a wee bit easier than 10 turns in the industrial age on Deity, plus tacking a 2000-word story on to the end of it.
11 turns in the ancient age on Regent is a wee bit easier than 10 turns in the industrial age on Deity, plus tacking a 2000-word story on to the end of it.
Reddwarfian
E're now! Whats all this?
Well, I saw on Sullla's page that he's back.
Here come the Mongol Hordes!
(Question:
How many Boards
could the Mongols Hoard,
if the Mongol Hoardes
got Bored?)
Here come the Mongol Hordes!
(Question:
How many Boards
could the Mongols Hoard,
if the Mongol Hoardes
got Bored?)
Sullla
Patrician Roman Dictator
Hi all, good to see you again. Here's the next chapter of Temujin's saga.
"New Faces"
Golden sunlight shone down from a cloudless sky to play across the streets and tall buildings of Karakorum. A soft breeze stirred the leaves of the trees in the city's parks and sent their shadows dancing in reckless abandon. Birds called out to one another in the air above as they swooped to and fro in the timeless dance of a late summer day. It was the sort of afternoon that sent uplifted hearts, that brought inspiration to lofty poets and joy to small children.
It was a day almost too beautiful for the grim business at hand.
Temujin, adorned all in black, stared down from his high vantage point atop a balcony of the palace. His position afforded him a stunning panorama of the large open space known as the Iron Square below, typically a parade ground for the military and other large-scale operations, as well as a view of the Darhan Road stretching off to the east through the streets of the city and beyond. An enormous procession was slowly winding its way down the broad thoroughfare, bringing the most beloved member of the Mongol ruling family home to his final resting place in the palace. The mood of the vast crowds choking the streets and every rooftop with a view was somber, and the usually bustling city was eerily silent. All traffic and commerce in Karakorum had come to a halt for the day, but it was not a day for celebration. Rather, it was a day of national mourning, and every Mongol from Baruut-Urt to Bayanhongor was paying his respects to Ogodei on this date.
As the funeral procession crawled its way up the streets towards him, Temujin took a moment to reflect back on Ogodei and the few other men of power and influence around him. Ogodei had been a good tool, a fine military commander and never one to question orders. The people loved his overblown emotions and coarse humor, and in many respects he had been the public face of the government to millions of Mongols. Certainly, the ordinary person had had far more contact with Ogodei than with the reclusive and enigmatic Temujin, who was making his first public appearance in ages today. Ogodei had always been ready with a one-line comment for the press to print in the newspapers; frequently something outlandishly stupid, true, but he had become almost the default spokesman for a state than never felt the need to justify its actions to anyone. Yes, Ogodei had been very good at what he had done, Temujin thought. Replacing him was going to be a chore.
And who was there available to take up the duties of the fallen commander? Militarily, Magdalai would become the senior general of the armed forces, but for all of his skill on the battlefield, Magdalai was no more of a public figure than Temujin. His short frame and heavily scarred face would never play well with the public, and Magdalai was more likely to pick a fight with a member of the press than stand around for hours listening to their questions. The death of Ogodei also brought Sabotai to the rank of second-in-command of the military. Sabotai was a grizzled veteran of many combats, a career officer who had long worked with Ogodei as the brains behind their victories. How he would handle formal command remained to be seen, but it was likely that Sabotai and Magdalai would work well together.
But while Sabotai was close to a military genius, he was just as ill-suited for a public role as Magdalai. Who did that leave behind? His sons? Jochi was making his first public appearance in over a decade today, and most of the guests present in the royal box today were trying to figure out the identity of the tall and slender man whom they had never seen before. The notion of Jochi acting as the media outlet for the government was almost laughable. Chagatai offered some more promise, but the man was entirely too wrapped up in the affairs of state, both domestic and international, to do the job properly. An elitist at heart, Chagatai would never be able to understand the common people. For that matter, his popularity was still tainted by his pacifistic stance long ago in the first great offensive war against the Iroquois. Chagatai would never do.
No, none of the men he had available would be able to do the job properly, the khan realized. He would simply have to find himself a new tool, one that would follow orders and do as they were told. His remaining sons almost certainly continued to scheme against him and jockey for power and influence; they would hardly be Mongols if they did not. And there still remained the issue of who had betrayed them at the Battle of Salamanca, a mystery which still eluded even Jochi's efforts to ferret out the individual. There remained a spy somewhere in his ranks, and Temujin would not rest until he discovered who it was.
Temujin barely watched the carriage bearing Ogodei's body as it rolled up the streets, so intent was he on his own internal plotting.
* * * * *
"Next!" barked Temujin roughly to Sabotai. The graying general showed the failed candidate out the door and admitted the next one in to the audience room. Temujin was interviewing various prospects for the vacant public relations role left by Ogodei's death. So far, the men had not been promising.
The next figure shown in the door was a startling figure to behold. He was a big man, almost as tall as Ogodei had been, but where the other man had carried a hefty amount of girth, this person possessed only muscle. His dusty outfit of a canvass shirt and faded brown trousers with a small golden pin of Temujin's Fist attached above the heart identified him as a member of the Iron Fists, the khan's elite military bodyguard. The real shock though was his face, an unmarked perfect oval studded with sapphire-blue eyes and topped by sandy blonde hair, physical traits almost unheard of in Mongolia. A ladies' man by the sight of him, but no one could get into the Iron Fists without being tough as nails. Temujin despised this pretty boy on sight.
"What is your name, boy?" he said gruffly to the newcomer.
"Naadam, great khan," he replied with a bow. The man was smooth, Temujin would give him that.
There was no reason to stretch this audience out. Temujin would be blunt. "All right. Now give me one good reason why I should give you this post."
Naadam was equally blunt in reply. "I've always gotten along well with people, sir. They seem to love me and accept anything I tell them." A dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. "That will make it easier for you to control them and have them believe whatever it is you want."
He knows how to play the game, was the thought that went through Temujin's mind. Dangerous, but potentially too good at what he does to pass up. "You have the position," he said out loud. "Sabotai, show him out." Naadam bowed again and exited with the senior general.
Temujin remained in the room behind his desk, not moving until he was sure the two were gone. When that was the case, he knocked twice on the polished wood, then paused and knocked again. A hidden panel in the wall slid open silently to admit Chagatai, who had been listening unobserved within. Temujin spoke up to the younger man, who was (as usual) clutching a folder full of notes, "Tell me, is he what he seems to be? I don't recall ever seeing him before and his appearing here at this moment is entirely too conveinient."
"I know it may be hard to believe, sir, but he really is Mongolian. From far to the north near the Scandinavian border. Reports say that he's demonically fast with a sword, which would explain the unscarred face. And it says here," Chagatai briefly glanced at one of the papers in his hands, "that he was recently promoted to the Iron Fists from the main body of the army. Most of the old members were killed at Salamanca, if you recall."
"I DO recall, all too well," said Temujin, fixing Chagatai with a baleful stare. "On that issue, what have you found concerning our betrayal on that battlefield?"
Chagatai shrunk inwards, knowing it was never a good idea to give the khan bad news. "Unfortunately nothing as yet, great khan. My considerable efforts have not turned up any new leads."
"Then you had better double them, understood?" Chagatai nodded yes enthusiatically. "Get out of my sight!" roared the khan, sending his son scuttling from the room. After a moment had passed, Temujin knocked again on his desk, and Jochi emerged from another hidden panel where he had been listening to both conversations. The khan fixed him with a level stare before finally asking a simple question. "What do you think?"
Jochi shrugged. "Plots inside plots, with treachery and danger on all sides. Has it ever been any different?"
Temujin nodded slowly in return. With the Mongols, how could it ever be any other way?
* * * * *
Unfortunately I leave tonight at midnight to go see a football game at Florida State, so I will be away this weekend. Speaker has the next set of turns though, so hopefully that won't be an issue.
PS Speaker, if you want I can e-mail you with what's going on in the story behind the scenes, so that you and I can keep the story logically consistent. (Remember, I have the whole ending already planned out and am building up to that where possible.) Or I wouldn't be averse to writing all the story segments if you are very busy, but we should try to avoid that if we can. In any case, good luck!
"New Faces"
Golden sunlight shone down from a cloudless sky to play across the streets and tall buildings of Karakorum. A soft breeze stirred the leaves of the trees in the city's parks and sent their shadows dancing in reckless abandon. Birds called out to one another in the air above as they swooped to and fro in the timeless dance of a late summer day. It was the sort of afternoon that sent uplifted hearts, that brought inspiration to lofty poets and joy to small children.
It was a day almost too beautiful for the grim business at hand.
Temujin, adorned all in black, stared down from his high vantage point atop a balcony of the palace. His position afforded him a stunning panorama of the large open space known as the Iron Square below, typically a parade ground for the military and other large-scale operations, as well as a view of the Darhan Road stretching off to the east through the streets of the city and beyond. An enormous procession was slowly winding its way down the broad thoroughfare, bringing the most beloved member of the Mongol ruling family home to his final resting place in the palace. The mood of the vast crowds choking the streets and every rooftop with a view was somber, and the usually bustling city was eerily silent. All traffic and commerce in Karakorum had come to a halt for the day, but it was not a day for celebration. Rather, it was a day of national mourning, and every Mongol from Baruut-Urt to Bayanhongor was paying his respects to Ogodei on this date.
As the funeral procession crawled its way up the streets towards him, Temujin took a moment to reflect back on Ogodei and the few other men of power and influence around him. Ogodei had been a good tool, a fine military commander and never one to question orders. The people loved his overblown emotions and coarse humor, and in many respects he had been the public face of the government to millions of Mongols. Certainly, the ordinary person had had far more contact with Ogodei than with the reclusive and enigmatic Temujin, who was making his first public appearance in ages today. Ogodei had always been ready with a one-line comment for the press to print in the newspapers; frequently something outlandishly stupid, true, but he had become almost the default spokesman for a state than never felt the need to justify its actions to anyone. Yes, Ogodei had been very good at what he had done, Temujin thought. Replacing him was going to be a chore.
And who was there available to take up the duties of the fallen commander? Militarily, Magdalai would become the senior general of the armed forces, but for all of his skill on the battlefield, Magdalai was no more of a public figure than Temujin. His short frame and heavily scarred face would never play well with the public, and Magdalai was more likely to pick a fight with a member of the press than stand around for hours listening to their questions. The death of Ogodei also brought Sabotai to the rank of second-in-command of the military. Sabotai was a grizzled veteran of many combats, a career officer who had long worked with Ogodei as the brains behind their victories. How he would handle formal command remained to be seen, but it was likely that Sabotai and Magdalai would work well together.
But while Sabotai was close to a military genius, he was just as ill-suited for a public role as Magdalai. Who did that leave behind? His sons? Jochi was making his first public appearance in over a decade today, and most of the guests present in the royal box today were trying to figure out the identity of the tall and slender man whom they had never seen before. The notion of Jochi acting as the media outlet for the government was almost laughable. Chagatai offered some more promise, but the man was entirely too wrapped up in the affairs of state, both domestic and international, to do the job properly. An elitist at heart, Chagatai would never be able to understand the common people. For that matter, his popularity was still tainted by his pacifistic stance long ago in the first great offensive war against the Iroquois. Chagatai would never do.
No, none of the men he had available would be able to do the job properly, the khan realized. He would simply have to find himself a new tool, one that would follow orders and do as they were told. His remaining sons almost certainly continued to scheme against him and jockey for power and influence; they would hardly be Mongols if they did not. And there still remained the issue of who had betrayed them at the Battle of Salamanca, a mystery which still eluded even Jochi's efforts to ferret out the individual. There remained a spy somewhere in his ranks, and Temujin would not rest until he discovered who it was.
Temujin barely watched the carriage bearing Ogodei's body as it rolled up the streets, so intent was he on his own internal plotting.
* * * * *
"Next!" barked Temujin roughly to Sabotai. The graying general showed the failed candidate out the door and admitted the next one in to the audience room. Temujin was interviewing various prospects for the vacant public relations role left by Ogodei's death. So far, the men had not been promising.
The next figure shown in the door was a startling figure to behold. He was a big man, almost as tall as Ogodei had been, but where the other man had carried a hefty amount of girth, this person possessed only muscle. His dusty outfit of a canvass shirt and faded brown trousers with a small golden pin of Temujin's Fist attached above the heart identified him as a member of the Iron Fists, the khan's elite military bodyguard. The real shock though was his face, an unmarked perfect oval studded with sapphire-blue eyes and topped by sandy blonde hair, physical traits almost unheard of in Mongolia. A ladies' man by the sight of him, but no one could get into the Iron Fists without being tough as nails. Temujin despised this pretty boy on sight.
"What is your name, boy?" he said gruffly to the newcomer.
"Naadam, great khan," he replied with a bow. The man was smooth, Temujin would give him that.
There was no reason to stretch this audience out. Temujin would be blunt. "All right. Now give me one good reason why I should give you this post."
Naadam was equally blunt in reply. "I've always gotten along well with people, sir. They seem to love me and accept anything I tell them." A dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. "That will make it easier for you to control them and have them believe whatever it is you want."
He knows how to play the game, was the thought that went through Temujin's mind. Dangerous, but potentially too good at what he does to pass up. "You have the position," he said out loud. "Sabotai, show him out." Naadam bowed again and exited with the senior general.
Temujin remained in the room behind his desk, not moving until he was sure the two were gone. When that was the case, he knocked twice on the polished wood, then paused and knocked again. A hidden panel in the wall slid open silently to admit Chagatai, who had been listening unobserved within. Temujin spoke up to the younger man, who was (as usual) clutching a folder full of notes, "Tell me, is he what he seems to be? I don't recall ever seeing him before and his appearing here at this moment is entirely too conveinient."
"I know it may be hard to believe, sir, but he really is Mongolian. From far to the north near the Scandinavian border. Reports say that he's demonically fast with a sword, which would explain the unscarred face. And it says here," Chagatai briefly glanced at one of the papers in his hands, "that he was recently promoted to the Iron Fists from the main body of the army. Most of the old members were killed at Salamanca, if you recall."
"I DO recall, all too well," said Temujin, fixing Chagatai with a baleful stare. "On that issue, what have you found concerning our betrayal on that battlefield?"
Chagatai shrunk inwards, knowing it was never a good idea to give the khan bad news. "Unfortunately nothing as yet, great khan. My considerable efforts have not turned up any new leads."
"Then you had better double them, understood?" Chagatai nodded yes enthusiatically. "Get out of my sight!" roared the khan, sending his son scuttling from the room. After a moment had passed, Temujin knocked again on his desk, and Jochi emerged from another hidden panel where he had been listening to both conversations. The khan fixed him with a level stare before finally asking a simple question. "What do you think?"
Jochi shrugged. "Plots inside plots, with treachery and danger on all sides. Has it ever been any different?"
Temujin nodded slowly in return. With the Mongols, how could it ever be any other way?
* * * * *
Unfortunately I leave tonight at midnight to go see a football game at Florida State, so I will be away this weekend. Speaker has the next set of turns though, so hopefully that won't be an issue.
PS Speaker, if you want I can e-mail you with what's going on in the story behind the scenes, so that you and I can keep the story logically consistent. (Remember, I have the whole ending already planned out and am building up to that where possible.) Or I wouldn't be averse to writing all the story segments if you are very busy, but we should try to avoid that if we can. In any case, good luck!
ControlFreak
Not An Addict, Really
It's so nice to have you back. I love reading your tales.
Reddwarfian
E're now! Whats all this?
I can't wait!
Can I see a screen shot? How's the Mongolian homeland doin?
Can I see a screen shot? How's the Mongolian homeland doin?
