I was browsing the Civilopedia, and it occured to me that there's a lot of blank entries. The entries that are filled are cool, but there's a lot of empty space. As such, I figured I'd write a few entries myself... maybe some of them will get accepted, and help to fill the gaps.
If anyone else has anything like this, post it here...
Dance of Blades
The enemy was almost upon us, and nobody in the camp was prepared. Our scouts had failed us, and we would surely be set upon in moments. Soldiers grabbed up their weapons in frantic preparation, dreading the imminent attack. Yet in the midst of all this commotion, the adept sent to assist us was strangely passive. He simply stood in the center of the camp, and started whistling... an eerie tune, with a strange, unearthly melody. I took him for mad, but then the sound intensified, becoming louder then any a human could possibly produce. In the next moment, a strange impulse came upon me, drawing me forward to meet the enemy charge. All around, I could see my allies, scattered about at random... but then both sides met... and something strange happened. Although our forces held no discernable line, each man was somehow in position to repel the enemy's first strike. Despite our total confusion, and the lack of any kind of preparation or planning, not a single enemy soldier entered the camp. Throughout this all, that haunting melody continued, and the battle seemed to mimic the strange rhythms of the tune.
The moment passed, and the song faded, but by the time it did, every one of our men was on his feet and fighting, and the whole of the enemy's first wave lay dead or dying.
-Excerpt from the Diary of Anton Sandor, of the 3rd Infantry Legion
If anyone else has anything like this, post it here...
Dance of Blades
The enemy was almost upon us, and nobody in the camp was prepared. Our scouts had failed us, and we would surely be set upon in moments. Soldiers grabbed up their weapons in frantic preparation, dreading the imminent attack. Yet in the midst of all this commotion, the adept sent to assist us was strangely passive. He simply stood in the center of the camp, and started whistling... an eerie tune, with a strange, unearthly melody. I took him for mad, but then the sound intensified, becoming louder then any a human could possibly produce. In the next moment, a strange impulse came upon me, drawing me forward to meet the enemy charge. All around, I could see my allies, scattered about at random... but then both sides met... and something strange happened. Although our forces held no discernable line, each man was somehow in position to repel the enemy's first strike. Despite our total confusion, and the lack of any kind of preparation or planning, not a single enemy soldier entered the camp. Throughout this all, that haunting melody continued, and the battle seemed to mimic the strange rhythms of the tune.
The moment passed, and the song faded, but by the time it did, every one of our men was on his feet and fighting, and the whole of the enemy's first wave lay dead or dying.
-Excerpt from the Diary of Anton Sandor, of the 3rd Infantry Legion
