The Altera Centauri collection has been brought up to date by Darsnan. It comprises every decent scenario he's been able to find anywhere on the web, going back over 20 years.
25 themes/skins/styles are now available to members. Check the select drop-down at the bottom-left of each page.
Call To Power 2 Cradle 3+ mod in progress: https://apolyton.net/forum/other-games/call-to-power-2/ctp2-creation/9437883-making-cradle-3-fully-compatible-with-the-apolyton-edition
Originally posted by vovan
Paragraphs, man, don't forget paragraphs.
Other than that, quality stuff here. Keep it up.
Thanks vovan. Does that read better?
SKILORD and Chrisius your comments are much appreciated also.
The hardest part about writing this is that my mind keeps moving forward in the story I want to tell and I fear that I won't do justice to the part I'm writing now.
The encouragement that you all provide is making this a real pleasure. Thanks so much!!
"I am sick and tired of people who say that if you debate and you disagree with this administration somehow you're not patriotic. We should stand up and say we are Americans and we have a right to debate and disagree with any administration." - Hillary Clinton, 2003
Originally posted by PLATO
Thanks vovan. Does that read better?
Sure does.
Originally posted by PLATO
The hardest part about writing this is that my mind keeps moving forward in the story I want to tell and I fear that I won't do justice to the part I'm writing now.
Hehe, I know how that goes. Sometimes, too, I fear I'll forget this cool new plot twist that comes into my mind while writing a section, so I jump forward, and then resume the old part, and then something else comes to my mind, too. The only thing that keeps me on track is trying to keep the goal of the story in mind. For instance, for the story I'm writing now, I have in mind a specific message I want to convey, and I try to develop the characters and events so as to convey that message the best way possible. Without a goal like that, I found, the events and characters just get out of control and chances are you may never even finish the story.
BTW, did you see the Timeline movie/read the book? The movie was good stuff, and the book - even better. Just wondering if that was any inspiration for you?
Originally posted by vovan
BTW, did you see the Timeline movie/read the book? The movie was good stuff, and the book - even better. Just wondering if that was any inspiration for you?
No I haven't read or seen it. This is probably a good time to discuss my inspiration for this though. After playing literally hundreds of Civ3 games, I realized that the feeling of personal ownership that I had with my civ and the way I related to other civs was more and more based on a "backstory" that I was creating in my mind. This and the fact that the same leaders are leading the civs for over 6000 years got me really thinking about how this could have come to be.
How was this possible? Why did they conflict? Why are some more predisposed to be allies? Where is the driving motivation to advance, to fight, and to build?
The results of these thoughts are playing out before you in my tale. This story has been growing in my mind for sometime now and it finally demanded to be released. I can't tell you or any member of our "guild" what it means to have this place to write. When I say that all of you have made this a pleasure...it is, if anything, an understatement.
"I am sick and tired of people who say that if you debate and you disagree with this administration somehow you're not patriotic. We should stand up and say we are Americans and we have a right to debate and disagree with any administration." - Hillary Clinton, 2003
I can't tell you or any member of our "guild" what it means to have this place to write. When I say that all of you have made this a pleasure...it is, if anything, an understatement.
I know how you feel bro, I'm pretty sure we all do. You don't have to try to explain it to the rest of us.
As for the Michael Chriton book/movie. The movie : but the book was pretty good.
The mist hung heavy among the trees. The forest was already an ancient thing…deep, immense and foreboding. To Ailill it was home. This particular night he was leading his tribe along the old path toward the plain. The time was here when the prophets would be redeemed. For three generations they had worked. For three generations they had sacrificed all. Now was the time of fulfillment. During the last moon the circle had been completed and it was time for the words uttered by Ui Neill to be brought to life.
The heaviness of the fog shrouding the land seemed even deeper tonight to Ailill and he wondered if it was a sign that the gods were working something even more secret than usual. He could sense the same feeling in the tribe. There had been much excitement as the final stone had been set into place. The excitement had run high as the day of the equinox approached. Ui Neill had said that when the power of the day and the power of the night equaled each other that their stalemate would give a window of opportunity to man to receive their own god. No longer would they be ruled by the will of the night and day. Someone would come that would be able to lead them from the trees into greatness. The prophet had said that all that was needed was a place for the people to focus their spiritual energy and direct it towards the heavens to open the way for their own god that would not be beholden to the day or the night. This door was now complete. The stones had been laboriously dug and transported; carefully hewn and placed. All was ready. The path emerged from the trees and Ailill saw by the stars that they would be on time to Stonehenge.
Elizabeth felt trapped like a common prisoner as she waited in the tiny lifepod to be launched in a de-orbit burn to the planet below. Much had changed in the last 500 years for her. Hers had been a land of plenty. Huge plains producing a vast amount of agriculture. Her slaves had been well treated, well fed, and well housed. The income she had produced by selling these foodstuffs to the other nations of Alpha Prime had been immense. She had come to know the other leaders well during the time since they had brought down the old corrupt Republic. She had learned how to squeeze every last ounce of money out of them to keep their populations fed and content. Elizabeth knew that the secret to subservience was a full stomach. Only Cleopatra on the Northern Island had the capacity to produce anything near a surplus in food production, but she was no competition to Elizabeth. In fact, Elizabeth had actively sought out the alliance with her. Noone had known that Ceasar’s people were starving as he prepared his treachery. Elizabeth had not noticed that her income from Ceasar had been flat for a generation. Even now she wondered how her existence would be different if she had left Cleopatra to her own devices when Ceasar had attacked.
She felt the jolt as the lifepod was released from the ship and her journey into exile began. The decent was seemed easy enough but she could feel the temperature rising as the heatshield reached its limits. She looked out of the small window as the lifepod plunged deeper into the alien atmosphere. It appeared that she was heading toward a medium sized island on the northern half of the planet. She thought again of Cleopatra’s island and the irony was not lost on her. As the breaking thrusters fired she could begin to get a look at the lay of the land. This, she realized, would be her only opportunity for an airiel look at her new home for sometime to come. The decent was was slowing rapidly when Elizabeth saw a huge flame appear on the horizon. She wondered if she was being propelled into a forest fire, but no. The flame was enormous but very localized. She was going to land very close to it.
Ailill had checked all the arrangements twice. All was ready. The great fire had been started and even now was pushing the night and the day to their point of equality. It was time to begin the invocation. Ailill gathered all the people in their places. A shaman before each pillar…a part of the tribe behind each shaman…Ailill on the great stone above the fire. He began the litany of fire and stone and wood. He raised his hands to the heavens and pronounced the day and the night at stalemate. He commanded the door between earth and heaven to open and…Fire lit the sky! He heard the awestruck murmur roll through the tribe. Sweat broke out on Ailill’s forehead as the significance of ths ritual finally came to rest upon him. He…Ailill…was commanding a god down from the heavens! As the fire in the sky neared the great Stonehenge, Ailill could do nothing but prostrate himself upon the great stone. The people were all prone on the ground in fear and somewhere Ailill heard a shaman weeping. The god came to rest not 200 feet from Stonehenge in its shiny Chariot. The people of the forest were more than ready to receive it.
Elizabeth knew enough about the ancient history of her people to guess what was going on below her. She was overwhelmed at her fortune. The only structure of its size that she had been able to see for a thousand miles. People lined up in a formation and a leader perched on a rock. It had to be a religious ceremony…it just had to be. Elizabeth mentally knocked off a thousand year from the time she had originally estimated that it would take her to return to Alpha prime. She laughed out loud at what she was about to do. Hah! Queen Elizabeth the God! The lifepod opened and she went to meet her new subjects.
"I am sick and tired of people who say that if you debate and you disagree with this administration somehow you're not patriotic. We should stand up and say we are Americans and we have a right to debate and disagree with any administration." - Hillary Clinton, 2003
A proud member of the "Apolyton Story Writers Guild".There are many great stories at the Civ 3 stories forum, do yourself a favour and visit the forum. Lose yourself in one of many epic tales and be inspired to write yourself, as I was.
You really think so? I am trying to transition from simply the leaders perspective into a dual perspective of the people on the ground and the leaders. Just part of the "flow" of the story that I am trying to get going.
As this is my first story (and it will probably take awhile to tell it!), I would like to hear any constructive critisism that you have. I am enjoying writing it so much that it only seems fair that everyone should have a chance of enjoying reading it as well.
"I am sick and tired of people who say that if you debate and you disagree with this administration somehow you're not patriotic. We should stand up and say we are Americans and we have a right to debate and disagree with any administration." - Hillary Clinton, 2003
Rurik pulled the bear skin closer around his neck as he stared into the cold mountain day. This would be his 30th winter in these mountains. He had developed the habit of greeting the dawn every morning and contemplating his day. His was a peaceful tribe and they had long ago given up wandering far from his mountains. Yes, he thought of them as his mountains. His father had led the people here when the barbarians had forced them from the plains below, but it mattered not. The winter below was just as harsh as the winter here and here the game was easier to predict. It was nearly time to move the tribe to the next hunting ground. Perhaps this year they would camp a little lower on the mountain and take advantage of the later snowfall. It would be a little farther to the game, but his hunting parties were well provisioned this year. Rurik turned from the rising sun and began to walk back toward the camp, never noticing the meteor trail that appeared over his left shoulder.
Catherine waited in the lifepod for the decent to the surface of this new world. She knew that many hard times would await her below but she knew also that she could overcome them. Her upbringing in the Farsung Mountains had been harsh. The poverty that her people had endured under the republic had been severe while they watched the valley people prosper. The old republic had promised “prosperity for all”. What a joke, she thought. She could only hope that she could find the same type fortitude in some of these “life forms” that had been reported on the planet below. She knew in her heart that Caesar and Bismarck would be trying to rekindle the hatred they had for all living things. So much had come to pass...
“Empress! A communication is coming in from the front,” the excited communications officer turned and nearly yelled at Catherine. It had been nearly a week since she had had any communication with her Generals. Far…far to long. Since this blasted war had started she had never gone more than several hours without an update and now it had been a week! “Read it you idiot!” she nearly screamed. The communications officer turned and began reading the message, “To the Most High Empress Catherine, I am distraught to report the utter decimation of the fourth laser division. The support that we expected from General Pham’s two missile divisions never arrived. I am holding out with a group of 75 commandos in the hills above the Farsung river. The only good news that I have to report is that the enemy has been virtually destroyed before us. I am anticipating starting guerilla operations within the next month as we try to consolidate and repair equipment. I am assuming that the wretched German commander is doing the same, if he still lives. We have received some reports from captured locals that the city of Taloria is even now in open revolt. Our intelligence is very limited now, but we have some indications that popular uprisings are beginning in many areas. There appears to be some of the old Republicists that are organizing this movement. My means are very limited and while I wish to engage Bismarck’s troops when I am able, I can’t help but contemplate if I should try to move on Taloria to put down the revolt. I await your orders. General Cossack, commander, 4th laser division.” Catherine could do nothing but hang her head. She had been holding out her last hope that Cossack’s division could finally bring the Germans to their knees. It had come to this then…her armies were destroyed…her cities in revolt…all that was left was to wait for the inevitable.
Rurik sat around the huge fire with the other elders of his tribe. It had been decided that they would indeed stay lower on the mountain this winter. His people were hardy but he saw no reason to put them through more hardship than they had to endure. This year had seen more births than any year that he could remember. It would be good to let these newborns try to survive in a slightly less demanding climate. Perhaps, if enough survived, they could even add another hunting party in seven or eight years. The council of elders was very cautious though, and they refused to make plans beyond the coming season. Rurik understood this. It was unwise to plan on things beyond the immediate. Life was so harsh in these mountains.
Catherine was overjoyed that her lifepod had landed in the foothills of a great mountain range. Any other leader, she knew, would head for the roving bands she had seen on the plains during her decent, but Catherine had seen something in the mountains too that had given her heart hope. She had seen a bonfire on one of the upper slopes. It had been above the tree line and she knew that meant people. Any group that would choose to live there must be the kind of people she was looking for. She had been climbing for nearly two days now and was invigorated by the cold nights and cool days. She could sense the winter coming and knew that she must find this band quickly. Her very survival depended on befriending them, but she knew that she could…she understood these kind of people.
Her hopes were not in vain as late that afternoon she topped a crest in the ridgeline she had been ascending. There they were! The camp seemed to be in the process of breaking and she stood there and watched these people work. There was much inefficiency in the way that they did things. Her trained eye began to instantly organize things in her mind. She noticed a bearded man standing at the center of the camp. He was staring straight at her. No alarm had been raised…no action of any kind had been taken…he just looked up at her as she looked at him. She decided that the introduction was hers to make and began walking straight toward him. As she approached the camp the activity level began to decrease and more and more of the people stopped what they were doing and watched Catherine. She made her way to the center of the camp and to the bearded man.
Catherine looked Rurik in the eye. It was impossible for her to tell how old the man was. By his face she could tell that he had seen more than one winter and he carried an air of authority in his gaze. “I am Catherine of the Farsung Mountains,” she said. “I am Rurik…Welcome to our camp. What may we do for you?” Catherine had worked out her story well over the days of her ascent to this encampment. “My people in the Farsung Mountains were driven from their camps by the barbarians that dwell in the valleys. We had retreated to the high camps and made weapons but we were too late. The barbarians had had to long to ready for this massacre. All my people have been lost. I survived only because of a hidden trail. We knew of your people from the barbarians. I have journeyed many months to bring you this news and to help you prepare for the coming war. We learned much from our fight and if I can teach your people then maybe we can survive.” Rurik looked hard into Catherine’s eyes. Yes…yes he could see it… she had been involved in battle and he could see the haunting look of having lost it all. Rurik had seen that look in his father’s eyes. “You must come before the council tonight and tell your story. I will not allow my people to suffer at the hands of the barbarian again.” Again? These people had been through this before? Perfect thought Catherine…yes, just perfect. For the first time in what seemed like ages, she smiled. Together, she and Rurik walked toward the fire.
"I am sick and tired of people who say that if you debate and you disagree with this administration somehow you're not patriotic. We should stand up and say we are Americans and we have a right to debate and disagree with any administration." - Hillary Clinton, 2003
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