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President Regan's America


Zulu Slayer
Jun 14, 2001
San Diego
3000 B.C.

Regan stared out of the window of his oval office. He was about to make a decision that would forever change the way of life for the American people and how they would be viewed by the rest of the World. He thought hard about what he wanted to do, but in the end he really had no choice.

His Empire consisted of only two towns, the capital Washington and four days to the south, New York. The empire he controlled was but a narrow strip of land between two seas, the great ocean of the east and the great ocean of the west. That ***** Elizabeth of the English was but a mere five days to the north and she was constantly annoyed with him, even though he gladly traded information with her. Four days to the south, the French had their capital city of Paris. While Joan was friendly towards the American people, Regan knew that it was only a matter of time before the French made a move on the Americans, as they had nowhere to expand to. The Aztecs where directly to their south and were too strong for the French to attack with success.

With his decision made, Regan summoned all of his advisors to his office. He advised them that if their people were to survive on this island, then they had to do so through war. He was not surprised by the silence that met his statement. What he was surprised by, was the steely resolve he saw in their eyes. All except his domestic advisor Clinton, who had a reputation for choosing the skankiest women to peruse with. In his eyes he saw fear. I bet if we had ships to guard our coast, thats where he would run off to, Regan thought to himself.

He instructed his military advisor, Marshall, to start training warriors in Washington and training Spearmen in New York. All of our funds must be put into our military, so for the time being we will cut back on our Science research. He dismissed them.

Several months later, Marshall had sent an army of five warriors and three spearmen the the lands south of New York. At dawn, of the 17th of March, the warrior known as Patrick (who later became a Saint) led this army into French territory. The French foreign advisor quickly appeared asking Patrick what did he think he was doing? Patrick responded by sending a platoon of warriors against the walls of Paris. When they perished, he sent a second. There was no need to send a third. Paris was now the third town of the American empire and construction of a Temple was ordered. The French were destroyed and Joan was sent to Washington, where she became one of Clinton's mistresses.

2000 B.C.

Regan met with Marshall in his office. He had come to trust and respect his military advisor above all others, except for his wife, Nancy. Marshall was explaining to him that he had trained more warriors and spearmen and was respectfully requesting the order that would allow Patrick to move this army into Aztec territory and destroy that disrespectful bastard, Montezuma.

Regan thought about this for awhile. He knew his people would benefit from the furs and iron that the Aztecs possessed. "We will have them," he finally said to Marshall.

(to be continued when I'm not so busy at the office)
Approx. 1500 B.C.

Patrick stood on the mountain top surveying the newly constructed roads that the American workers had built to expedite the movement of his armies. And what an impressive sight they were!

Since the discovery of Iron outside of the town of New York, all of his warriors had been trained by Marshall himself, in the use of the sword. Most of his men were veterans from the French campaign and even the newly formed batallions of swordsmen would perform as veterans. His armies might loose this coming war, he thought, but they would never retreat. He had two armies at his disposal, both were equal in strength. Each army consisted of 3 spearmen and 4 swordsmen. He hoped it would be enough to take the two Aztec towns on the southern tip of this Island. If this campaign suceeded, all the land south of Washington would be American territory.

He checked with his Lieutenants to make sure all was ready. He drew his sword from it's sheath and gave the order,"advance". The American army, for the first time in history, marched into Aztec territory.

The first platoon of Swordsmen attacked the gates of "Titicolen" (to hell with the correct spelling of the town) and beat back the Aztec archers. The second wave of swordsmen attacked from the right flank, surprising Aztec spearmen and completely destroying them. This was the moment when Patrick gave the order for 3 companies of spearmen to move in and occupy the town. They were sucessful. Patrick immediately gave the order for the construction of a new temple in this town, which he renamed "Arizona". He knew that he would have to keep the Aztec people here happy until all resistance ended.

He gave the order for the second army to keep movin south, where the town of "Orinoco" lay. He ordered his first lieutenant, Clubber, to take the town "at all costs". He would stay behind to make sure the transition of leadership here was sucessful.

Before Clubber moved his regiment out, he gave a very stirring speach to his men. He told them that if they were victorious in this coming battle, the scourge of the Aztecs would forever be wiped from the pages of history. That their ancestors would never have to know what it is like to fear a race of people that did not drink whisky. These savages were heathens that must be destroyed. With that said, he ordered that each man be given a wee drop of "the water of life". With that done, "Clubber's Crusaders" moved south.

(more later)
Marshall was summoned to Regan's office to give his report on how the Aztec war was going. So far he told the President, all was going as planned, but a situation had developed that had been reported by the legendary scout, Tom Horn. It seems that the Aztecs have a third town, that was to the North West of English territory. It was possible that the Aztecs could launch a counter offensive south, on the capital of Washington itself.

This wouldn't do, thought Regan. He immediately ordered that all newly formed regiments of swordsmen and spearmen would march to the northern end of the American border, to be prepared for the Aztec assault. No new units would be sent south. With that said, Regan noticed that Marshall had gone quite silent.

"What", he said. "You don't agree"?
"Mr. President", replied Marshall. "I understand completely the need to secure our northern borders and our capital. But our armies to the south are counting on us to provide reinforcements if the assault on Orinoco does not succeed".
"Well then, General", replied Regan. I suggest that the assault on Orinoco does not fail, for if it does, we will not have the resources to launch a second offensive on that town until next spring. By the way, who is leading the attack"?
"A young Lieutenant, Sir", said Marshall. "By the name of Clubber".
Regan replied, with ice in his voice, "I hope that this young Lieutenant has brass balls, because he's sure going to need them".

(to be continued)
Hey Folks, just a word from the Author.

This is my first attempt to write a story on a game I played. Give me some feedback, please. Applause or critism, I will accept both.

Just a rundown on the game:

Prince level
Standard map with 16 civs.
Raging hordes of Barbarians, but with so many Civs on a standard map, they don't factor much into the game.
Everything else was a random selection.

I would appreciate some feedback.

I hope you enjoy!
As the snow gently fell to the ground, Clubber took time to survey the hostile surroundings. The climate here was cold and miserable, mountains of snow and ice dominated the landscape as far as the eye could see. What kind of a people would want to settle in this god forsaken land, he thought. His army's camp was located just outside the town of Orinoco, on a patch of ground that was completly frozen over. As he looked around, his thoughts turned to the warm, green valleys of his birthplace, New York. If I live through this he swore, I'll shall return there and never leave.

He turned his attention to his men. Most were scattered around the fires that they had built to keep warm. Some of them were keeping busy by sharpening their swords and spears, for the battle that would commence on the morrow. Lord, he silently prayed, please don't let me fail them. Let me deliver them to victory even if it costs me my life. With that, he returned to his tent to write a final letter to his wife and son, in the event he would perish in the forthcoming battle.


In the morning, the sky had turned to blue and the sun had finally made an appearance. As Clubber inspected his troops he saw the sun gleaming brilliantly off their swords, spears and shields. His army looked magnificent, he thought. Soon those weapons will be covered in the blood of our enemies and with god's will, we can return home.

He turned to face the town of Orinoco. He could see the Aztec archers lined up on the walls, and behind them, spearmen to protect them from the American assault. He gave the order for the bugler to sound the advance. When they heard it, his men let out a loud roar, a roar that echoed and reveberated through the entire valley. They knew that this would be the bloodiest battle that their people had ever fought. They knew that no quarter would be given for both sides. Their would be no prisoners taken on this day, only casualties.

As one, the American army marched into range of the Aztec archers.

Good story. Name one of your future heroes Genuis after me (your new best friend :))
could you post a screen shot ;)
or will that take away our image of the game :lol:

Actually I think you should name your general "washington" after Geoge of course ;)
The blood flowed down his leg as Clubber snapped off the end of the arrow that had pierced his thigh. With considerable pain, he pushed the broken arrow through and pulled it out. He could not stop the flow of blood, but at least he could walk now.

The battle of Orinoco was in full swing. The Aztec archers had poured their sharp barbs down on the American army, but presented themselves as easy targets for the American spearmen, who did not miss. American swordsmen had pushed on to the walls of the town and engaged in hand to hand combat with the towns defenders. In the end, the town put up little resistence and within the hour, the town had fallen.

As the army moved in to occupy the new American town of Orinoco, Clubber once more looked around this god forsaken land and decided what he would do. He knew that the border of the American empire would soon stretch to this land without having to maintain a town here and having to keep the populace happy.
He turned to his sargeant and said, "put the Aztec people in chains and we will march them back to Arizona, where they can work or die. When we leave, will will burn this place to the ground".

With that, he started to walk to the aid tent, where the physican Genuis was waiting with a red hot sword to cauterize his wound.


"Mr. President", announced Marshall. "We have just received word that the Aztec town of Orinoco has been razed by our Army in the south. It was a complete victory !!! Lieutenant Clubber has returned to Arizona with his army and several dozen slaves. All the land south of Washington is ours"!
"Good news indeed, General", replied Regan. Now send for my foreign advisor so I can make peace with these pathetic Aztecs, while we fortify our armies to the north".
"But Sir", exclaimed Marshall. "Should we not press on"?
"No, the Aztecs are no longer a threat to us and we have taken what we needed from them", answered Regan. "Now is the time to make sure all of our towns are well defended. Make sure there are 2 companies of spearmen garrisoned in each town, along with one company of swordsmen. Send all remaining troops and new recruits to our northern borders where can prepare for our next campaign".
"And what shall I prepare these men for, Sir"?, asked Marshall.
"For a simultanious attack on London, Nottingham and Oxford", replied Regan, with a sly smile.

Approx. 1 A.D.

They were all seated around the table in the war room. The air was full of cigarette smoke and the burnt smell of old coffee permeated the room.

The Foreign Advisor, Carter, said "the English have no idea what we are up to. That cow Elizabeth has surrounded herself with idiotic advisors that couldn't organize a piss up in a brewery."

Regan looked at Marshall and asked, " is everything ready"?
Marshall replied, " Yes sir. We have three armies massed just inside our borders to the north. The 1st. army will be led by General Patrick. He will lead the assault on Nottingham. The 2nd. army will under the command of Major Clubber, who will launch the attack on Oxford."
"Who will lead the 3rd. army"?, asked Regan.
"With your permission, I will sir", replied Marshall. "The assault on the English capital of London is too important to trust to a lesser Commander. As soon as this meeting convenes, I plan to ride north to join my men, to launch the attack two days from now.
"You may do so, General", said Regan. "But watch your ass"!


Patrick walked out of his tent in to the warm morning sunshine. His men were all waiting for him. They were not nervous about the coming battle and if they were, they hid it well. He mounted his horse that his aide had brought to him and said, "send me the flag bearer".

As his aide left to fetch the soldier who had been choosen to carry the American Flag, Patrick had time to reflect on his life and history. Although he was an American, he was also a direct decendant of the Celtic warrior Cunnobelin. Through the years, the history of the celtic tribe had been passed down from generation to generation. It was against the great god Sid's will that they survive in this world, and the English had persecuted them greatly before they perished. He was the last one and today he planned to make the English suffer.

As the flag bearer approached, Patrick handed him his most prized possession and said, " I want you to attach this to your pole below our flag".
"What is it, sir"?, asked the soldier.
He did not reply to the question but gazed in appreciation, as the golden harp on an emerald green background was attached below the American flag and hoisted in the air.
Hurry, hurry, you don't write fast enough!!!! I want to see smoke coming from your keyboard...

...more, please.
With that, he started to walk to the aid tent, where the physican Genuis was waiting with a red hot sword to cauterize his wound.

Oh yeah. Now it's a good story. But even without me it's still great. Keep up the good work.
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