Be honest...

[Grundel]

I started writing the following story after my third CIv3 game. For some reason, I just can't get into the story this time. I have a good idea of the type of story that i wanted to tell, but it just doesn't seem right...it seems plain.

I have posted most of what I have written of it. If enough people are interested, or i get enough positive feedback, I will finish it.

Here it comes. Be honest.

The story is now finished, and I renamed it from Be honest to 'The Plains of Tyre'

Enjoy

[Grundel]

The battle was over. Loosening the grip on his sword, Gunther dropped to his knees and looked around. Stretching in all directions the field was littered with the dead or dying. Snow gently fell, and was stained pink when it finally settled upon the ground. His heart nearly beat out of his chest. Gunther had never been more excited in his life. Nearly exhausted, he thrust the blood soaked blade of his sword into the frozen earth with every remaining ounce of energy accompanied with a blood curling yell. He had heard stories from his village elders of the horrors of combat, however he never realized just how much fun it would be.

“Are you OK?” one of the shaman had asked him. Many of these healers were tending to other wounded, or giving final ‘testiments’ to those about to pass on. Gunther looked squarely at the Shaman, and said nothing. He thought how the mighty German army had defeated the Barbarian horde. He thought of how many men he had sent to the after life. He thought of those he knew before the battle began and how that many of them he would not see again until such time as he passed into the after world. However, most of these thoughts waned, and his mind returned to one, simple fact. He wanted to do this again.

++ 20 years later, the Persian city of Tyre ++

The air smelled distinctively of spice.

Darin loved to walk on the waterfront during market time. The place moved as if the waterfront itself was a living thing…teamsters unloading ships, merchants selling their goods, and people haggling with them. The intricate noises of a thousand people speaking somehow reassured him, reminding him that he was alive.

“3 pends” The merchant yelled again. No longer distracted, Darin looked at the salesmen and was reminded why he was there.

“3? I give you 2” He replied.

“These are the finest Indian spices! Selling the grove for 2 will surely starve my family!”

“Not even a special price for the captain of the guard?” Darin offered a wry smile.

The merchant sighed and hunched his shoulders in an obvious feign of disappointment . “Ok, but only this time! Come again and you will pay full price!”

Darin’s smile broadened. “Thank you my friend.” He collected his spice and went home. Along the way he thought of how he might use it in the soup he had planned this evening.

++ The meeting ++

Gunther stepped forward and bowed. “Yes, my leige, you summoned me”

Bismarck sat at his throne, as always with the most stern look on his face. Gunther hated that man, the week fool. He doubted he ever lifted a weapon in his life…yet he was in control of the entire empire. However he tolerated him. Usually these meetings ended with orders sending him off to some battle, which always satisfied him.

The years had been kind to Gunther, at least in his mind’s eye. His valor that was displayed in many battles had lead to his promotions…captain, commander, marshall, and finally general. Legends followed Gunther with his many victories, as did stories of his ruthless brutality toward his enemies. Gunther had no respect for those who were not willing to lift a blade. He thought that most beureucrats, such as Bismarck himself, were nothing but soft, weak men that manipulated men instead of besting them with their own strength. However, he also acknkowledged that these soft men were needed, as the lowly citizens of the empire needed to be coddled…and men like Gunther were not the sort for that.

“Thank you for coming”. Bismarck replied. “It appears that the Mighty German Empire is in need of its greatest general once again.”

With a thin smile, Gunther replied “How can its most humble servant, Gunther, be of assistance?”

Bismarck stood from his throne, and summoned Gunther, along with a few aids, to his war chamber. The company followed.

The chamber contained a large, stone table situated in the center of the room. Upon the table was a map of the known world, showing Germany with its surrounding neighbors…Persian, Zululand, Babylon and France. Bismarck positioned himself at the end of the table, and his aids fell into their position as if rehearsed a thousand times. Gunther stood opposite his leader.

“Gunther, our empire is the greatest in the world.” Bismarck began, looking down studying the map. “And is so because of your tireless efforts.”

Gunther kept his vigilant gaze on his king.

“Now, Germany calls upon you once again. We must secure more land. Germany’s greatness cannot be realized until we control more land.”

“Once more, my leige, shall my armies be unleashed upon the world?” Gunther asked in a hopefull voice.

“Yes. The way of the world shall be the German way. “

“What enemy shall fall before our army?” Gunther asked? France was a weak neighbor, living mostly in the desert. Zululand was overrun with Jungle, but did have valueable luxuries within their borders. Babylon was ripe with iron deposits…

“Persia.” Bismark said, before Gunther could complete his thought.

Gunther looked up, startled. “Persia?” Persia, their western neighbor, had lush, fertile grassland and ore rich hills. Many harbors surrounded the great Bay of Persopolis. However, Persia also had one of the largest standing armies in the known world. Soon, his confusion turned to acceptance, and then excitement. “Persia!” He repeated, and a smile crossed his lips. His blood lust shall be satisfied again.

“Yes, my liege. Persia shall fall under enlightened German rule. “ Gunther said. He bowed to his king, and left the room. He gathered his aids, and set upon planning the invasion.

++ Fields of Green ++

Kaspar was gathering the recently harvested barley stalks in his fathers field and placing them on the wagon to be brought back to the granary when he felt something…something odd.

The ground…it seemed to vibrate. He could barley feel it, but it did. He glanced at his wagon. He kept a barrell of water to drink from while working the fields in the warm weather, and he noticed small ripples forming on the surface.

Confused, he stopped and looked around. A gentle breeze could be felt, and he saw the barley stalks sway in the wind, creating the unusual but beautiful wave effect. The sky was clear, barring a few birds that could be seen flying in the distance. He looked back toward the house. Although far, he could see it in the distance, with the tell tale smoke escaping from the chimney with the promise of a warm meal.

His horses began to act restless.

Looking around again, in the opposite direction of his home, he saw what appeared to be more smoke. However, it was twice as far away as his home. It stretched across the entire horizon.

“Strange?” He muttered to himself.

The ground shaking became more profound. In the distance toward the smoke, he could see what appeared to be objects.

Closer inspection revealed that they were horses…horses ridden by men. They were getting closer. He could hear the thunder of their hooves.

A few moments later, there was little doubt. Only a hundred yards away, he could see armored figures carrying various weapons: Lances, spears, swords, mauls…all different, all deadly. Kaspar froze in his tracks.

As the thundering herd came upon them, these mounted warriors engulfed Kaspar and his work. The riders rode around him as if he were not even there. His own horses were becoming uncontrolable at this time, and he held the reigns with all of his strength. A wave of fear overcame him.

While gaining control of his own animals, he looked at the warriors that were riding by. Nearing the end of this human and horse swarm, one of the riders stopped and let the rest pass by. This figure eyed Kasper squarely, and it chilled him to the bone. These were not Persians, as he was.

After all the horsemen passed, one still remained. This rider continued to stare strictly at Kaspar. Kaspar said and did nothing, except accept his gaze. After what seemed an eternity, the rider rode off to join with the rest.

Kaspar paid no attention to the trampled crops that now surrounded him, but only to his heartbeat, which he was sure would pound out of his chest. He had no idea who these people were, but he had a profound sense that he was lucky to still be alive.


Gunther hurried to catch up with his army. He thought about killing the young farmer, but the thought passed. There would be plenty of people to kill…very soon.

++ The Battle ++

Gunther’s army consisted mostly of cavalry…warriors on horseback carrying spears, swords, and wore thick leather hides for armor. His plan was simple. He would ride his army directly toward Tyre, the largest city in eastern Persia, and attack without warning. No setting up a siege, no declaring war, no meeting an army on the field. Persia was not expecting such an attack, and would have no time to prepare their defenses.

The initial contact was quick and brutal. The Germans rode into Tyre, and began to kill everyone in sight, all the while making their way toward the barracks located in the center. The defenders were caught by complete surprise. The Germans rode through the Persians with little resistance.

Upon reaching the barracks, Gunther’s troops had the city guard surrounded. After a couple hours of heavy fighting, the Persian’s defense broke, and the city fell into Bismarcks hands. Spear men and archers, which where held back from the initial attack, marched into Tyre to secure it form any counter attacks. The surviving defenders were gathered in the court yard of the barracks.

Gunther eyed the disarmed Persian immortals with a blank expressionless face. His officer rode to him.

“Sir, the city is secured. What should we do with the prisoners?” The officer asked.

Gunther’s gaze never averted from the Persian men. “Kill all but 5. Send the survivors out of the city. Advise them they have one day’s head start before we come for them. If they manage to reach safety before our warriors find them, then they can tell what they saw here today.”

The officer saluted “Yes sir.” He motioned to men. Five Persians were lead away. The rest were slaughtered were they stood. The stone floor of the courtyard was stained red with the blood of a hundred men.

“Immortals.” Gunther thought to himself. “Hans!” Gunther yelled for his officer.”

“Sir?”

“Go to every home in the city, and from each take one person. Bring them here.”

“A man from each home, General?”

“Man, woman, child…it matters not.” Gunther replied.

“Very well.”

[dannyevilcat]

Well, I for one think it's great. Hope you do continue!

[ike0481]

Looks Good.

Looks good to me. You got a solid start. Make the entire story as strong as your first paragraph and I'd say you've got another winner. You got me wondering who Darin is. Will he be one of the 5 survivors of Tyre who escape the brutal hands of Gunther. Keep it coming!

[Chronus]

I like it!

My only discouragement is the fact that I am now, more than ever, too intimidated to try my own hand at this storytelling.

[Grundel]

Chronus...

I felt the same way after reading some stuff from a guy named 'presidentmike', but i wrote some stuff anyway and had alot of fun with it. Just give it a shot, you may be surprised.

Don't write to compete with anyone, just write about one of your games, or an event in your game and have fun with it.

And, thank you for the kind words. I willfinish this one

And Ike, Darin is more prminent in the rest of the story

[quinalla]

Grundel, as always, it was a good read, I have enjoyed reading all the stories people have posted, sure some obviously write better then others, but all of them are fun to read, so definately don't be discouraged, Chronus.

-quinalla

[ElDiablo]

Grundel, ever since I started playing Civ II, I've always come to Apolyton...now with the stories forum in Civ III, I try to read as many stories as possible. Your stories have enticed me from the beginning as you are such a great storyteller. I can even see the story in a movie-type point of view...
Great job. Please continue!

[The Eliminator]

Grundel, I'm on a self imposed (final exams) Civ3 hiatus, and your stories are the only thing that keeps me going - knowing that I get to read them during my study breaks. Please, for the love of Gawd, keep 'em coming!!!!!!

[Grundel]

Next installment...still writing the finale.

++ The Escape ++


Darin’s gripped his wound. Although the bleeding had stopped, the pain was fierce. His side burned as if it were on fire. But that did not matter now.

His unit was butchered before he ever knew what happened. A horseman rammed a spear into his side, and left him for dead. As the skirmishes entered town, they were finishing off anyone that still had a breath of life in them. Feigning death, he was passed over.

There was nothing he could do now. The streets were empty with the exception of the occasional patrol that would wander by. Hiding, and gripping his wound, he began to make his way out of town…ducking behind cover when the enemy appeared.

Escaping and evading, he made his way to a commercial stable. Near the outskirts of town. Here, the patrols were heavy, and many Germans soldiers held the perimeter. There was no escape, without someone seeing him. He fashioned a horse as quickly and quietly as he could, and thought of how he would escape. After finishing, he looked out the window again, and assessed the situation.

He saw soldiers digging an entrenchment outside of the town, covering strategic approaches. Make shift wooden barricades were fashioned behind where this trench was being dug, and were manned by bowmen.

Over on another side, he say several horsemen leading a group of men behind them, each with his hands bound to the person in front of him. They were obvious Persians, and looked to be soldiers that he served with. Although at a good distance, he could tell that they were not well… beaten , wounded or both. It looked as if there were five of them. He could only imagine their fate.

Another German soldier appeared, and suddenly cut the men loose. At spear point, they were forced out into the plains that surrounded the city. They began to run.

“Curious” he thought. However, he now realized that if he were to escape, he would have to ride through the defenses. Darin’s chances of surviving this were ghastly. He looked about the stable. About ten horses were here. The Germans, he guessed, would be along soon to claim them for their own army…he had little time.

Surveying his surrounds, he found a tinderbox, which was used to light the lanterns here at night. He could use it. Quickly, he began to formulate a plan. Gathering some oil and the tinderboxes, he carefully exited the stable and made his way toward one of the barricades.

The pain in his side stayed with him, like an old companion. However, there was no time for this now. He tore a small swatch of cloth from his cloak, and soaked it in oil. The season lately had been dry, and he anticipated that the wood used to build these barricades would be equally so. He wrapped the oil soaked cloth around a board that was lying nearby.

He lit the board. Wasting no time, he flung it at the base of the wooden tower. The fire took right away, as the flames crawled up the supports. Smoke billowed from the tower, and the soldiers inside jumped to escape the flames. Screams could be hears, and the immediate attention of everyone in the area was directed at the flaming tower.

Taking this opportunity, Darin rushed back to the stable, and gathered six horses. He could hear much commotion now, as the surrounding areas became alive with activity. Looking out the window again, he saw that the fire spread to a nearby building. Smoke was becoming thicker in the area. There was mass confusion.

“Perfect” He thought.

Ignoring the sharp pain in his side, he lead the horses out of the stables. Mounting one and with the rest in tow, he bolted for freedom.

The smoke from the fire cast a thin haze around the area. As Darin rode toward the open plains, soldiers ran about the area in disarray. Most paid either no attention to him, or were too distracted tending to other pressing needs to care what was happening. In a few moments, he broke from the smoke into the open plains, and rode in full gallop.

A few minutes later, Darin caught up with the others.

“Thank god!” One exclaimed.

“Come, quickly. We must ride! “ Darin urged the soldiers.

“They killed….they killed everyone” his thoughts seemed to be focused on this one thought.

“Yes, I know. But there is no time for that now. Ride!!!”

“The women, the children…”


++ Relief ++

“Sir!” the guard exclaimed “There is a visitor here. You must see him.”

The captain looked up form his plate, food particles wedged in his beard. “What is it?”

The guard stepped back, and helped Darin into the room.

“What is wrong with this man? “ The captain questioned.

Darin was able to get his breath under control. He spoke.

“Sir, I bring new from Tyre. It has fallen under German control.” Darin’s voice trailed off.

The Captain stood up. “WHAT?”

“We were attacked, without warning. Everyone was killed. “ Darin continued

Although his lips said nothing, his expression bore extreme rage. He gathered himself for a moment.

“Guard, take this man to the surgeons, see to it that him and any other survivors are taken care of. Dispatch riders to Persopolis, Arbella, and Gordium. Assemble all of the troops we have here at Sidon.”

“Yes sir.” The guard helped Darin from the chambers, and set others about on their duties. The winter wind had carried war with it as it blew this season.

Sidon, several miles north of Tyre, had a large standing force, being near both the German and Japanese border. Stationed within the inner bailey were 1 catapult battery, 2 divisions of Immortals, and 2 Battalions of spearmen. Knowing that the bulk of the Persian army was months away, and knowing that they were probably the next target of the barbaric Germans, they had little choice but to march on to Tyre. Riders were dispatched to other cities, and slowly Persia began to awake. The stage was set for the great war.

++ On the Field ++

Three weeks had passed since the fall of Tyre. Now a bristling fortress, Gunther was confident that they would be able to hold off most any invasion…at least until reinforcements arrived. However, that did not mean that he did not expect a confrontation before then. He would have been very disappointed if that did not happen.

Gunther had made himself at home. The gates of the city had been decorated with the crucified bodies of the slaughtered soldeirs..a reminder to those that entertained thoughts of resistance. When blood was spilled, it remained…Gunther swore in a mandate that anyone who was caught cleaning blood would have theirs spilled immediately.

Gunther reveled in the gruesomeness that surrounded him. When the remaining population was tamed, and when they were joined by superior German settlers, this place’s glory will be regained. But for now, this would be perfect.

The scene was quickly interrupted, as Hans entered to bear news of his patrols.

“Sir, they are coming.” Hans reported, in an indifferent tone of voice.

“We are prepared. Gather the riders. We shall meet Tyre’s would be liberators.”

“Very well, General”.

The preparations were made, and in a few hours Gunther and his troops rode out of town. They rode north, waiting to meet their attackers head on.

[Grundel]

BTW...I did not run the spell or grmmar checker on this

[ike0481]

This is not acceptable!

What, no spell check? No grammer check? Do not let the grammer nazi Padma hear about this else he'll run straight over from The Mercury Device and nick pick you with his grammer phiology. :-)

Love your story Grundel. I also gotta say that I have read many of your posts here at Apolyton and you always have something kind to say. Despite my awful first short story "The Bloody War" you came in and boosted my confidence and because of you I wrote another story that made it to the weekly contest. I have certinally been inspired by your kind words and I am sure others have too. Thank you very much!

[Grundel]

Ike...

I am honored if my support lead you to write 1984bc and UFO...those were great !

If i have nothing nice to say, then i won't even bother posting anything All of your stories are good, ike, even though your later ones are better than your earlier ones

If you think your first was awful, read the Roman Wars, Barbarian Wars, and the letter home. I wrote those back in the day, and I think they are lost near the beginning pages of this forum. They were ghastly!! (Actually, the letter home wasn't bad...it just was real short)

Somehow, the Roman war sparked some long and involved discussion among a ton of people about civ 3 warfare and the ai...couldn't figure out that one. I don't think anyone made any comments aobut the story....(which wasn't really good, just some ramblings about my game)

But I also agree that there are not so friendly people lurking around here. I posted a quick question in the strategy forum, and got slammed by some dude because i did not put what my question was in the subject line. Well, so much for going there again. I will just ask Vel in the future Vel and you always seem to have good things to say about my posts

Man, can you all feel the love around here ?

[marcuspeddle]

Send the link to me so I can include it in this week's contest. I'd do it myself but if I do it this time I'll end up doing it forever.

Anatolia

[Grundel]

This one isn't ready yet I was thinking about posting something different for the next contest anyway...

Btw, Anatolia, when is the submission deadline?