Elysium
Chieftain
I click the ‘Next Turn’ button. What happens?
My emissary to the City State of ‘European City the Developers heard about in the movies’ is in deep discussion with his counterpart. Recently, the City State has been drawing further and further away from my nation, and my emissary is there to see what’s going on.
“Man from big nation. You give our ancestors 500 gold three centuries ago. In return, we supply you with fish every year. All ancestors now dead, but we still giving fish. We want more gold.”
“Well, I’m sure we could come to some arrangement whereby we pay you every year for the fish – “
“No. 500 gold, every three centuries. That is our way.”
“But you’ll all be dead by the time of the next payment!”
“That is our way.”
“Can’t we just give you a little money every – “
“THAT IS OUR WAY.”
I click the ‘Next Turn’ button. What happens?
At the border between my empire and the mighty civilisation of Rome, a group of merchants have been halted by legionaries.
“Hello chaps, we’re looking to cross the border to sell the finest preserves our country has to offer in your great city of Antioch!”
The legionaries look sternly down at the merchants.
“There is no cross-border trade anywhere, except that mandated by Caesar. Nothing except the goods he has specified in agreement with your ruler may cross.”
A little way away from the huddle of merchants and legionaries, a line of naked men carrying fistfuls of sugar is crossing the border.
“Why can’t they carry the salt in sacks?”
“Because that leaves the possibility of non-allowed goods crossing the border – independent trade. This cannot be borne; as everyone knows, independent trade is only acceptable within a nation. Who knows what might happen if people were allowed to carry what they wanted across borders?
“Why do they have to be naked?”
“Because“ - here the legionary’s nose wrinkles with disgust – “Otherwise they might smuggle shoes across the border on their feet.”
I click the ‘Next Turn’ button. What happens?
One of my adjutants is visiting a trading yard in my most industrious city. Two thousand years ago, we discovered the secret of the bow and arrow.
“Good morning, warriors. How goes the training?”
“Not so good, sire; the men keep dying off every forty years or so, and then we have to make the bows again to fit new men.”
“You’ve been at this for two thousand years. When are we actually going to have an army?”
“It’s a very difficult business, sir, training archers. If only they didn’t keep dying of old age.”
“I swear, I bet other versions of reality never had such an issue in training troops in under a millennium.”
I click the ‘Next Turn’ button. What happens?
I receive a report from one of my field engineers. It contains a verbatim account of a conversation he had with one of the gangmasters leading our efforts to tame the lands of our empire.
“You fellows were meant to be in the hills above the city digging mines three years ago. What took you so long to get here?
“Many apologies, sir, but we were forced to take an alternate route through the jungle.”
“Why? There’s a perfectly good road between the capital and here; why didn’t you use it?”
“We couldn’t. Another gang of workers were in the area, stopping us from getting through.”
“Says here that the other gang had been tasked with digging irrigation ditches to help develop farmland. They weren’t anywhere near the road.”
“Yes, but they were in the area, sir.”
“So?”
“What happens if one of our men had bumped into one of the other men while they were crossing the road? There’d have been such a todo. Can’t have that, sir.”
I click the ‘Next Turn’ button. What happens?
Nothing.
I click the ‘Next Turn’ button. What happens?
Nothing.
I click the ‘Next Turn’ button. What happens?
Nothing.
I click the ‘Civ4 – BTS’ button.
My emissary to the City State of ‘European City the Developers heard about in the movies’ is in deep discussion with his counterpart. Recently, the City State has been drawing further and further away from my nation, and my emissary is there to see what’s going on.
“Man from big nation. You give our ancestors 500 gold three centuries ago. In return, we supply you with fish every year. All ancestors now dead, but we still giving fish. We want more gold.”
“Well, I’m sure we could come to some arrangement whereby we pay you every year for the fish – “
“No. 500 gold, every three centuries. That is our way.”
“But you’ll all be dead by the time of the next payment!”
“That is our way.”
“Can’t we just give you a little money every – “
“THAT IS OUR WAY.”
I click the ‘Next Turn’ button. What happens?
At the border between my empire and the mighty civilisation of Rome, a group of merchants have been halted by legionaries.
“Hello chaps, we’re looking to cross the border to sell the finest preserves our country has to offer in your great city of Antioch!”
The legionaries look sternly down at the merchants.
“There is no cross-border trade anywhere, except that mandated by Caesar. Nothing except the goods he has specified in agreement with your ruler may cross.”
A little way away from the huddle of merchants and legionaries, a line of naked men carrying fistfuls of sugar is crossing the border.
“Why can’t they carry the salt in sacks?”
“Because that leaves the possibility of non-allowed goods crossing the border – independent trade. This cannot be borne; as everyone knows, independent trade is only acceptable within a nation. Who knows what might happen if people were allowed to carry what they wanted across borders?
“Why do they have to be naked?”
“Because“ - here the legionary’s nose wrinkles with disgust – “Otherwise they might smuggle shoes across the border on their feet.”
I click the ‘Next Turn’ button. What happens?
One of my adjutants is visiting a trading yard in my most industrious city. Two thousand years ago, we discovered the secret of the bow and arrow.
“Good morning, warriors. How goes the training?”
“Not so good, sire; the men keep dying off every forty years or so, and then we have to make the bows again to fit new men.”
“You’ve been at this for two thousand years. When are we actually going to have an army?”
“It’s a very difficult business, sir, training archers. If only they didn’t keep dying of old age.”
“I swear, I bet other versions of reality never had such an issue in training troops in under a millennium.”
I click the ‘Next Turn’ button. What happens?
I receive a report from one of my field engineers. It contains a verbatim account of a conversation he had with one of the gangmasters leading our efforts to tame the lands of our empire.
“You fellows were meant to be in the hills above the city digging mines three years ago. What took you so long to get here?
“Many apologies, sir, but we were forced to take an alternate route through the jungle.”
“Why? There’s a perfectly good road between the capital and here; why didn’t you use it?”
“We couldn’t. Another gang of workers were in the area, stopping us from getting through.”
“Says here that the other gang had been tasked with digging irrigation ditches to help develop farmland. They weren’t anywhere near the road.”
“Yes, but they were in the area, sir.”
“So?”
“What happens if one of our men had bumped into one of the other men while they were crossing the road? There’d have been such a todo. Can’t have that, sir.”
I click the ‘Next Turn’ button. What happens?
Nothing.
I click the ‘Next Turn’ button. What happens?
Nothing.
I click the ‘Next Turn’ button. What happens?
Nothing.
I click the ‘Civ4 – BTS’ button.
