 |
|
germanos
|
|
behind a firm ****, Rotterdam, NL
Apr 2002 time: 06:22
|
|
Oh, BTW I got a screen at the beginning of my turn that normally only shows up when you start a new game... I guess that is a result of Darius' password removal thingy? It's rather odd...
|
|
|  |
 |
|
Kull

|
|
El Paso, TX USA
Mar 1999 time: 22:22
|
|
It was a perfect spot for a city; there could be no doubt of that. Three small branches of the Nile ensured easy irrigation over a large acreage, and the people here had taken full advantage of it. All around lay fields heavy with the ripening promise of agricultural bounty. Various grains predominated - wheat & millet chief among them - but also there were orchards, melon patches and root crops. Each day a line of women could be seen moving amongst the plants, painstakingly checking each stalk for the brown stains and ragged leaves that bespoke an assault by beetles, locusts, or some other insect pest. At the first sign of damage they would turn and summon one of the small army of children who followed along behind. Soon, tiny eyes and hands would search the plant from root to heavy-laden head, plucking away the offending insects. This practice was beneficial in several ways, as it kept the children occupied and out of mischief while rescuing the crop from further attack and even adding an important protein source to the diet (since many of the insects - locusts in particular - were edible delicacies in their own right). A series of narrow trails passed through this hum of activity, converging upon the large dwellings that dominated the landscape. Here at last stood the City of Pe. Though smaller than Memphis, it was orderly and well suited for defense - in particular due to the formidable earthen glacis that protected it on all sides. This embankment sloped up from the fields to stand 30 hands above the alluvial plain. Armed men patrolled the top - keeping a watchful eye on the surrounding fields and woods - while others stood guard at the single entry into the city, ready at a word to swing shut it's protective wooden gate.
Several mud-spattered men lay in the rushes rising up from the river to the south, watching this activity with keen interest. Following the discovery of the city four suns earlier these men had carefully circled around it, staying away from open ground and sticking to the shelter of woods and marsh. It had been hot, grueling work, but now they knew what they were up against. "This is NOT going to be easy," muttered Mekret. "Surprise is impossible, and even if we had Sekmut's 2nd to assist us - where in the name of Horus IS he, I wonder - an assault upon those walls across an open field can only be disastrous." The man next to him nodded in wordless agreement. When Mekret was Nomarch of Dahshur, Ar-seth had been his chief lieutenant - and was so again, supplanting a native Memphian. Although Mekret had come to love the Memphis Nome and all it's grand possibilities, the people were another matter entirely. Too many Memphians were questioners, always wanting to know the "why" behind his orders, and that was simply infuriating to a man accustomed to blind obedience. And as the ex-Nomarch knew all too well, the disdain was mutual. The haughty southern nobleman was little loved by the Memphis citizenry, few of whom could understand why he had even been allowed to live, much less command the Nomarch's soldiers. So when he chanced upon Ar-seth laboring on a road crew at the outset of his first mission, Mekret summoned him back to service immediately. It had been a strange chance indeed.
Upon entering the Nomarch's service - and true to his promise to Ra-a-Memfes - Mekret promptly took command of the new troop of skirmishers training near Memphis. When soon thereafter a road crew south of Memphis sent word of a strange encampment in the hills, Mekret responded quickly. With no other troops at hand, extra gold was expended to hasten the training, equipping, and commissioning of the 4th Skirmishers, after which Mekret led them swiftly to the south. All of Memphis knew of the impending military action, and in the days that followed rumors spread throughout the city. As always these grew in the telling, so by the time Mekret's troops were spotted marching up from the south, the entire populace already "knew" there had been a great victory over a huge Barbarian Army - complete with great spoil of riches and slaves. But when the 4th Skirmishers passed through the city gates, looking none the worse for wear and leading only a small captive band of pottery makers - the general feeling in the city quickly changed from one of elation to sarcastic amusement. (In the years that followed, the knowledge and skill of these men would greatly enhance the Potter's Craft throughout all of Egypt - a matter of far greater import than a simple military success - but this wasn't realized at the time).
Mekret was already disappointed to be returning without a glorious victory - and his mood darkened further under the brunt of the knowing glances and half-smiles directed his way by many of the populace. Fortunately it didn't have to be endured for long. In the absence of news from Sekmut's 2nd Skirmishers, Mekret's new mission to enter the Delta in search of the city of Red-Crowned King Menes had come as a great relief. But now Pe was found and the Enemy's power confirmed - and once more he would have to return to Memphis empty-handed. The Nomarch would probably understand, but the thought of those grinning crowds was almost more than pride could bear. There had to be some way of returning victorious...surely the gods would not abandon him now! If only he could....but wait....that was the answer - again. Like it or not, Mekret realized that once more his fate lay in the hands of the gods. Ignoring the men around him - and as Ra's great shining orb sank in the western sky - the ex-Nomarch kneeled in the muck and silently cast fervent prayers into the darkening heavens.
The next morning Mekret and his officers rejoined the army in the marshes south of Pe, and marshaled them for the journey out of the Delta and on toward Memphis. With progress slowed by their disappointed and recalcitrant commander, the skirmishers finally crossed the Nile late in the day and made camp between the river and the road - where just before dark they were joined by a caravan traveling down the road toward Memphis. After dining with the troops, Mekret and Ar-Seth joined the travelers around their campfire (it being bad for discipline, after all, for commanders to drink and socialize with their own men). The tradesmen were happy for the rare opportunity to experience the protection of armed men far from a city, and were happy to share wine and sweetmeats with these soldiers - hard and quiet though they might be. As the merchants relaxed and began the time honored tradition of sharing stories, Mekret was soon drawn to the tales of one man in particular, a short wiry Canaanite engaged in a fierce dispute with one of his fellows. "Say what you will of the fabulous "lands between the rivers" in the far, far east. To my mind it's all flat and boring, much like Egypt. But as for Canaan....now there's a REAL land of milk and honey! We have many rich and bountiful cities, the land is well suited for the growing of grape and grain, our men are young and strong, and the women are beyond compare!" There was more in this vein, and at any other time - in any other place - an Egyptian commander would have recognized it for what it was - the vain boastings of a homesick traveler.
But a desperate drowning man will grasp at any flimsy straw, and for Mekret this seemed very promising. Not that he'd ever been there, but Canaan couldn't be THAT far away....could it? And just like that, the decision made, the commander of the 4th Skirmishers spoke his mind to the only man he trusted in all the world. "This I swear to you Ar-Seth, those Memphians will not laugh at me again. In the morning, go to the Nomarch and say what we have learned of the Great Strength of Menes, that we have seen no sign of that shirker Sekmut, and that even now I am leading the 4th Skirmishers eastward to recruit new allies for the war to come!"
Attachment: egypt_b3370.net
This has been downloaded 1 time(s).
|
|
|  |
 |
|
Stefan Härtel
|
 |
Eddie's best friend
Jul 1999 time: 06:22
|
|
Mourning lay over the city of Ecbatana. Bald men and veiled women crowded the central market square to get a glimpse of what has returned of the remains of those brave warriors who set out and gone where no man has gone before.
It was not until Baydad, high priest of all of Media, Tabaristan, Sattagydia and Parthia stepped onto the centre of the square that all became silent.
And what a silence it was. It was, as if the whole world had stopped breathing. It was a silence as dead as those men lying on the market square.
Baydad took a long look around. He seemed to be staring into everyone's face. Then he closed his eyes and looked down. For a moment, the entire city felt his breath.
Then he spread out his arms and layed his head into his neck.
"Here they stood. There they fell. But history will never care at all."
A sudden wave of weep errupted. But Baydad was not to be impressed.
"It was in the cold mountains of the land that is known to us in Elam. Our brave warriors have travelled for decades without seeing anything but mountains, birds and themselves. Seeing other humans was no less than unexpected. Unfortunately, those men were of the brutal sort. And after long fighting, ours had to withdraw, only few living to tell the tale to me before collapsing where you see them now.
Why did you make men so cruel, Ahura Mazda! Give us an answer! Why does the Wise Lord not speak, O Spitama Zarathustra! Why are all of you silent!"
Baydad spent the rest of his days seeking for an answer, but he never found one that satisfied him.
Attachment: cy_b3370.net
This has been downloaded 1 time(s).
|
|
|  |
 |
|
tanelorn
|
 |
of the deep blue sea
Jun 2001 time: 07:22
|
|
The tired band of horse-riders, crossed the banks of Sagarius cautiously,as remaining hidden from the enemy was imperative. As darkness fell on the hills of Lesser Frygia, the young nobles dismounted and led their steeds in a nearby grove of oak trees. They approached the Frygian camp in secrecy, crawling through the fields of barley. They observed the enemy, seeking an opportunity to attack the hated Frygian foes. What they saw startled them: an oven whence came not pots of clay, but pots of a fiery blazing liquid that vile magic turned into axes of red, gleaming stone. Uriah, the raiders captain contemplated in silence "What devilry is this? Oh sky god Tesub, how lowly do our spears look next to these axes! Hepet's mame be praised, they have the arms but we have numbers"."Sons of Heth, attack!" he shouted, his voice resounding with desire. The Frygians were surprised and quickly overcome, however their copper weapons demonstrated beyond any doubt how advanced our western neighbors are. Most of the Frygian artisans were taken hostage and sent back to Hatussas to start building a copper foundry as soon as possible. These are glorious times indeed.
Meanwile, a band of Hatti skirmishers crossed the border into Cappadocia, to find itself facing a wondrous structure: a house of stones, 30 feet high! Cappadocian archers could be seen marching up and down the battlements. The rocks were mortared together with ingenious artistry, and those above surely spied on our men from afar as they approached. Going closer would be pure madness, their arrows would reach us well before we could even harass them. Judging this "tower" to be an achievement of immesaurable value, the skirmisher captain Luwian sent for gold from Hatussas. We would bribe the garisson! Soon enough we would learn how to build these "fortifications" ourselves.
A third party, unable to penetrate the Armenian highlands, decides to head for river Pyramus and the cities of Cilicia they 've been hearing about all this time. This will bring them closer to the fabled "copper" island across the sea.
Attachment: hittites_b3360.net
This has been downloaded 1 time(s).
|
|
|  |
 |
|
Civfan
|
|
Toronto, Canada
Sep 1999 time: 05:22
|
|
trade agreements and borders have been proposed.
Attachment: ha_b3360.net
This has been downloaded 1 time(s).
|
|
|  |
 |
|
germanos
|
|
behind a firm ****, Rotterdam, NL
Apr 2002 time: 06:22
|
|
Assyrians got drunk during a festifal, celebrating the Midwinter.
Scouts met with the Persians, and after a PM, peace was established between the two nations. The stars seem to be in good alignement for mutual benefit of this encounter.
Two huts discovered, three towns are now under seige.
City of Mardich founded on the Euphrates.
The messengers returned from Babylonia. More cooperation between Assyria and Babylon will be seen in the future.
Attachment: assyria_b3360.net
This has been downloaded 2 time(s).
|
|
|  |
 |
|
Kull

|
|
El Paso, TX USA
Mar 1999 time: 22:22
|
|
The placid Nile waters reflected the shimmering image of stars embedded in the body of the goddess Nut - with her great black belly arched high above the earth - while just beyond lay the twinkling earthbound lights of Abydos. There weren't as many now, most winking out one-by-one as the night made it's steady march toward dawn, and these few that remained were most likely the watch fires of sentries. The chirping of crickets dominated the night, occasionally broken by the eerie howling of hyenas and the startled cry of some unlucky creature transitioning suddenly from life to death. There was another sound too, although it was low and muffled and as yet unheard by those who dozed around the dimming lights of Abydos - the quiet sound of sandaled feet traversing the sands, drawing ever closer to the city.
Although pleased by the results of his mission to Saqqara, the satisfaction slowly faded as Unas journeyed southward and his mind turned once more to the regiment recuperating in Dahshur. Leaving his command for a short journey to Memphis and back was one thing, but the additional assignment in Saqqara had kept him away much longer than anticipated. While in Saqqara, and even now on the road south, Unas occasionally met travelers coming up the Nile from Dahshur - and their tales left him more and more concerned about the condition of his men. As it turned out, there was ample reason for worry. During the prolonged absence, Unas' second-in-command had spent the days and nights indulging a taste for beer - and the rest of the army happily followed their new leader's example. In less than a month the 1st Skirmishers had been transformed from the Nomarch's elite into a loose collection of drunken sots. So it was hardly surprising that upon hearing of Unas' sudden arrival in Dahshur, the drunken lieutenant was able to assemble less than half the company for inspection - and his reward for this performance was swift and certain. It had taken Unas a full turn of the moon to restore order, a task that might have lasted longer if the men weren't sobered and motivated by the ever-present stench arising from the rotting corpse of the former reveler-in-chief. Still splayed across the parade ground where he had fallen - the spear in his chest a convenient roost for crows - the deputy commander was now contributing more toward discipline and unit cohesiveness than he'd ever been capable of while alive.
It was a chastened group of men that marched with perfect military precision through the streets of Dahshur, heading south behind their grim, tight-lipped commander. Unas had plenty of reason for concern. Several suns to the south lay a city that had spurned the advances of the Nomarch, and it was the mission of the 1st Skirmishers to "convince" the citizens that their real future lay in joining the Memphis Nome. The journey along the Nile had been uneventful, marked by the unchanging landscape of wide flowing river, darkened bands of fertile soil along each bank, and the desiccated pink desert that lay just beyond the reach of Egyptian irrigation technology. Near a place where the Nile completed a long, barely perceptible bend to the east, the view from a vantage point high in the hills revealed a strange landscape dotted with black pools of pitch. A strange liquid indeed, Unas had seen it used in torches and as a hardening component in bricks - but these people used the substance as part of an old ritual involving the preservation of corpses. Below, several laborers could be seen working the pools - ladling the viscous naphtha into clay-lined baskets strapped to the backs of donkeys. In the distance, a line of these animals could be seen traveling toward a barely perceptible jumble of mud-brick dwellings - the city of Abydos.
Abydos lay just east of a Nile crossing - one of the few along this section of the river - and served as a transit point for all merchants journeying north or south. Defensive strongpoints guarded the western shore of the ford, hindering the chance of a successful attack from that direction. Nevertheless, a few days earlier Unas led the 1st Skirmishers in an ostentatious approach toward the fortifications. Taking cover near some palm trees at the extreme range of their bows, the soldiers conducted a desultory long-range archery assault. This display of ineptitude was concluded - in full view of their opponents - by the sight of Unas trying to inspire his men into conducting a frontal assault upon the enemy position. A few men came tentatively forward - only to abandon the attack in disorder under a hail of arrows - but most either failed to move or simply gave up and raced in full retreat toward the distant hills behind them, completely ignoring Unas' threats and imprecations. By day's end the dispirited 1st Skirmishers could clearly be seen traveling up into the northern hills - returning from whence they came. It had clearly been a major victory for the joyous warriors of Abydos - except for one small detail. The entire assault was conducted in perfect accord with Unas' plan - a carefully orchestrated show designed to deceive the enemy and lull them into complacency!
After the regiment made camp for the night, a small party was tasked with maintaining the cooking fires and otherwise simulating the appearance of a large military force. Meanwhile most of the 1st Skirmishers traveled swiftly along a hillside trail that bypassed Abydos and took them to another crossing just south of the city. The ruse of retreat to the north had clearly worked, since the ford was poorly defended by a few inattentive men huddled around an open campfire. The sleepy guards never knew what hit them, and soon the 1st Skirmishers were crossing the river and heading north toward the lights of Abydos.
Gathering his men in an orchard just south of the city, Unas gave them their orders. The assault was going to be quick and would target a few key religious, civil, and military buildings. Abydos had no wall, and this simplified matters enormously by allowing Unas to divide his men into four groups. The smallest was already heading west, and would wait in ambush between the river forts and the city. Once the clamor of attack arose from Abydos, any attempted relief from the Nile guards would run into a deadly surprise. Of the remaining platoons, two would operate in tandem and take the Nomarch's palace and the main barracks - a pair of buildings facing one another across a narrow plaza. The last group would gain control of the Osiris Temple, a complex of buildings that sprawled along the western edge of Abydos. As with the earlier ruse, the assault went exactly as planned - at first. Unas himself led the first two groups against the palace and barracks. Surprise and luck were with the 1st Skirmishers, and the Nomarch of Abydos was killed within moments of the first clash. Victory over the remaining troops proved quick and clean - too quick in fact. The number of opposing soldiers was far smaller than Unas had expected. With resistance ended, Unas gathered his men and led them toward the Osiris complex - and now the first hint of trouble appeared in the form of, first one, and then several fires beginning to light the night sky above the Temple.
After presiding over his glorious "victory" the day before, the senior commander of the Abydos army had been suddenly stricken by the Gods. While reporting the details of his triumph to the Nomarch, the general suddenly turned red, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he dropped to the ground like a sack of dates - already dead before the final echoes of his collapse had passed from the hall. A bad omen, to say the least! Clearly the Gods were unhappy with this man, and so the Nomarch insisted he be prepared for burial immediately - with all religious ceremonies and interment to occur that very night. The old general had been well respected by his men, and there was great unhappiness over this unseemly haste. Thus most of the Abydos soldiery were present in the Temple of Osiris when a small band of invaders suddenly intruded upon the funerary rites. The benefit of surprise quickly shifted to the warriors of Abydos, and the overwhelmed Memphians were soon being hunted down and dispatched, one by one. In their desperation to escape this trap, several of the 1st Skirmishers grabbed torches from the wall sconces and started fires in the hope of delaying their pursuers. The tactic failed miserably, but did have an unintended side effect - for the Temple of Osiris was a tinderbox. Although constructed largely of mud brick, it was reinforced by wooden braces and many of the walls and doorways were covered by cloth hangings - but worst of all it was the central repository for the city's large store of Naphtha. It didn't take long before the first flames reached this storeroom, and when they did the entire temple exploded upward in a vast fireball! This sacrilege must have truly displeased the Gods, for at that moment the light night air wafting in from the north suddenly freshened and shifted to the west - driving the scorching flames forward, into the heart of the city.
Unas saw the firestorm approaching and tried desperately to rally his men. Of those who panicked and ran to the east - hoping somehow to outrun the flames - not a one was ever seen again. The rest followed Unas south through the streets, retracing their original route into the city. But now their progress was slowed by the appearance of hundreds of panic-stricken citizens flooding from their homes in a desperate attempt to escape the approaching blaze. Unas knew that the afterlife held torment for those proven unworthy in the test of Maat - but he couldn't imagine it to be worse than what he saw and heard that night in the teeming, screaming streets of Abydos. Time has no meaning in the midst of such overwhelming terror and chaos, but eventually he saw an opening between the buildings ahead, and ran through it into the sweetest smelling dampness he had ever experienced (although truly it was a farmer's field like any other). Behind him the fire roared past with a great soul-sucking groan - a sound so terrible it seemed that only some monstrous horned beast could have produced it. Dazed, Unas staggered toward the only familiar landmark - the orchard starting point - and then turned back toward Abydos. For the first time he could see that the entire city was a sea of flame. Anything that could burn was being consumed, and over all hung the sickening stench of charred flesh, the roar and crackle of the burning, and the distant, fading sound of human screams.
For the rest of the night, Unas searched the outlying fields, calling for his men. But few responded to his slowly hoarsening voice. By morning he'd gathered fewer than fifteen men, scarcely a tenth of those who'd accompanied him the night before - and all, including himself, were suffering from extensive burns. The only moment of joy came when the ambush team added their total of ten to his number. Their battle had barely begun when all fighting was halted by the unexpected explosion that ripped apart the Temple of Osiris - men had simply dropped their spears and gazed in horror at the ensuing spectacle, all thoughts of warfare gone from their minds. With the morning came a cessation of the fires, and the first tentative journey into what had once been Abydos - and was now nothing more than a charred shell. Unas hadn't been sent here to destroy this place, and he was profoundly saddened by the extensive destruction and massive loss of life. His hands shaking, mind reeling at the additional thought of so many of his own soldiers gone forever, it took great strength of will to calmly utter the words that had to be spoken. Calling over one of the unwounded men from the ambush team, Unas issued the orders, speaking loudly for all to hear. "Go to the Nomarch and report the news of this tragedy. On the way, tell those at the hill camp to rejoin the few of us that remain. For neither I nor anyone else in the 1st Skirmishers will leave this place. We will not abandon its few remaining citizens now - now when they need us most. There WILL be a city here once again, and the men of Memphis will not leave this spot until that day comes to pass".
Attachment: egypt_b3360.net
This has been downloaded 1 time(s).
|
|
|  |
 |
|
germanos
|
|
behind a firm ****, Rotterdam, NL
Apr 2002 time: 06:22
|
|
From my side of the border I can say this:
In PBEM, when players meet (or as is often the case in many scenario's from the beginning) they do not talk with the envoys of the civ, since these are controled by the AI (Absolute Ignorant)
and not the player.
So in this game, when you meet somebody, you must refuse to talk to the AI (Absolutely Irritating)
Civfan and I then started to send eachother PM's to talk and negotiate.
We dicided on some stuff (that will remain private for now, although if you read our posts, you could see some of the things we agreed on), and then when our turn is up, we can contact the AI, and try to get the deals done as agreed, f.e. tech swaps or any of the other nice things that can be done.
Sometimes the AI does not let you do what you want to, and recently a poster here, Yaroslav, has build a Utility that lets you do the things you want, without being at the mercy of the AI (the Absolutely Impossible).
You can find it somewhere here on the forum, or in the scenario creation IITC.
Here is a link to CFC-site.
http://forums.civfanatics.com/showt...&threadid=38689
The original version works fine, and the beta version is being tested (with good results from what I understand). Have a look at it.
For now, you probably won't need it since we are early in the game.
If you meet somebody, you will have the option to set your attitude towards them. This is quite important, since if I agree to trade techs with you, but you set your attitude to me as Icy or worse, when I meet 'your' envoy, he probably will insult me and laugh at my offers .
Oh, and don't forget to Ctrl-N at the end of your turn, or the AI will start to talk with other AI's while you are having a good time elsewhere You don't want your techs ending up at your opponents desk .
If you have more questions, I'll do my best to answer them (I'm only around for a few months myself)
|
|
|  |
 |
|
Stefan Härtel
|
 |
Eddie's best friend
Jul 1999 time: 06:22
|
|
A Persian's Tale
Or: The Art Of Being Great
By Darev, the son of Bardiya, son of Frada of Behistun
Mithra Publications, Ecbatana, 3360 BC
251 Stone Tablets with many illustrations:
345 Darics
150 Rolls of parchment with many coloured illustration:
500 Darics
Oral tradition (sung by the best of Sattagydian slaves):
1,000 Darics
Currency Converter:
1 Persian Daric=5 Median Darics
1 Persian Daric=90 Parthian Darics
100 Persian Darics=1 Hittite Talent in Silver
1 Hittite Talent in Silver=500,000 Babylonian Shekels
1 Babylonian Shekel=2 Assyrian Shekels
1 Assyrian Shekel=40 Mycenean Drachms
2 Mycenean Drachms=1 Minoan Drachm
1,000,000 Minoan Drachms=1 Egyptian Talent in Silver
!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!Your Advertisment Could Be Here!!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!
AAA (Atar Advertisment Association)
1 Ahura Mazda Plaza, 32421 Ecbatana
Mail by horse, camel, dromedary, elephant, pigeon and donkey accepted
Slaves will be kept (please no ink on shaved heads!)
Fire Signs only from 7.30 PM to 4.30 AM
Opened 24 hours a day, 5 days a week!
|
|
|  |
 |
|
germanos
|
|
behind a firm ****, Rotterdam, NL
Apr 2002 time: 06:22
|
|
quote: Originally posted by Stefan Härtel
Currency Converter:
1 Babylonian Shekel=2 Assyrian Shekels
|
EXTRA EXTRA, READ TNE NEWS !!
INFLATION CAUSES RIOTS
Assyrian Finance Minister sacked
rabarberrabarberrabarber
|
|
|  |
 |
|  |
 |
|
Civfan
|
|
Toronto, Canada
Sep 1999 time: 05:22
|
|
quote: Originally posted by Stefan Härtel
A Persian's Tale
Or: The Art Of Being Great
By Darev, the son of Bardiya, son of Frada of Behistun
Mithra Publications, Ecbatana, 3360 BC
251 Stone Tablets with many illustrations:
345 Darics
150 Rolls of parchment with many coloured illustration:
500 Darics
Oral tradition (sung by the best of Sattagydian slaves):
1,000 Darics
Currency Converter:
1 Persian Daric=5 Median Darics
1 Persian Daric=90 Parthian Darics
100 Persian Darics=1 Hittite Talent in Silver
1 Hittite Talent in Silver=500,000 Babylonian Shekels
1 Babylonian Shekel=2 Assyrian Shekels
1 Assyrian Shekel=40 Mycenean Drachms
2 Mycenean Drachms=1 Minoan Drachm
1,000,000 Minoan Drachms=1 Egyptian Talent in Silver
!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!Your Advertisment Could Be Here!!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!
AAA (Atar Advertisment Association)
1 Ahura Mazda Plaza, 32421 Ecbatana
Mail by horse, camel, dromedary, elephant, pigeon and donkey accepted
Slaves will be kept (please no ink on shaved heads!)
Fire Signs only from 7.30 PM to 4.30 AM
Opened 24 hours a day, 5 days a week! |
Ok, I'll take 150 Rolls of parchment with many coloured illustrations for 500 Darics.
Heres 2,500,000 Babylonian Shekels.
Wheres my change?????
|
|
|  |
 |
|  |
 |
|
Civfan
|
|
Toronto, Canada
Sep 1999 time: 05:22
|
|
soldiers continue spreading the word of the babylon people.
borders defined with the Assryians.
Attachment: ha_b3350.net
This has been downloaded 1 time(s).
|
|
|  |
 |
|
germanos
|
|
behind a firm ****, Rotterdam, NL
Apr 2002 time: 06:22
|
|
Sargon's grandson, overseeing the past decade's of his reigh, was happy, yet very tired. The empire had expanded, following the wise lessons his father and grandfather had tought him. Many groups of scouts had been send out to discover the far and fabled lands, and many lonely Huts, Villages and Tribes had been discovered. The rewards had been overwhelming, although the price had sometimes been high. Hostile bands of Barbarians had emerged from their huts, and deadly battles had to be fought with them, as well as with the Villagers. Many soldiers had fallen, but many slaves captured, bringing money to the Royal Coffers.
His predesessors could not prepare him though for the difficult task that lay before him, now that new and far greater neighbours appeared to be bordering the fringes of the Assyrian Empire. While most of the Hutdwellers had not been more than peasants, the Villagers raw barbaric bands, and the Tribes encountered peacefull and obedient followers; the unions of cities that borderd the Assyrians to the South and East were of a completely different nature.
These people were as strong as the barbarians, as proud as the tribesmen, and as resourcefull as the hutdwellers, and those three combined made them fearsome enemies, skillfull opponents or valuable friends, depending on how well the Assyrians would be able to cooperate with them. It was clear that the vastness of the Empire, combined with the establishment of these first contacts, would require a completely different approach, and that the organisation of the Assyrian society would have to change drasticly. From now on there would had to be more then Scouts and Warriors alone. Sargon the Third was in desparate need for men that could take care of the Assyrian interests at the courts of the rulers of these city-unions. It required many moons, sometimes even many harvests before news would have traveled between the frontiers and the Capitol Nineveh, to reach Sargon's large and beautifull tents that comprimised his Palace. Allready news had arrived to late to be of any good, and recently a messenger arrived, only able to tell Sargon that barbarians had raided the party. His fellow travelers had given up their lives to let the messenger escape, so he could bring at least word of cooperation from the South, but that it was completely unknown what had been written in the sealed scrolls that the Lugal had trusted to his safekeeping.
Sargon frowned and was very worried that the Empire would fall in disarray if todays structure of society continued, with so little control of the Empire's roads and rivers, since it was noted by the newly appointed State Treasurer that many taxes never arrived in the Capitol. Undoubtedly some claims of the governors that the parties must have been raided on their trip to Nineveh were valid, but in his private chambers Sargon had also received discontented citizens from faraway cities that the city-governers were corrupt, or that taxmen had been seen traveling away from the Capitol to distant lands. Sargon vowed he would instruct his wisest men to bring him a solution for this problem, so that his newborn son, Tudiya, would not have to bother so much with these rougue governers. He doubted though that even his grandson to be, godwilling, would be releived of this burden.
In the meantime, despite Sargon's worries, the Empire thrived. The deal made with the Persians to the East had brought knowledge of new lands, and new knowledge on how the animals of the plains could be used for the benefit of mankind. In the South another Village was subdued, as well as in the West. In between them two huts were entered by Scouts. Both extended the knowledge of Assyria, although one of them would not be beneficial to the Empire, to say the least!
A raving band of Barbarians emerged from far away on the plains, fourlegged and twice as tall as the Assyrian Skirmishers! They advanced with speeds as fast as the feared sandstormes towards the Scouts, who could only watch with fear on the ever closing enemy, their feet stuck in the mud. A few of the men who were able to keep their wit, ran when they saw what was coming, and managed to flee to the Tell of Mardich and tell their tale. From their incoherent stories, it became clear that the hutdwellers had found yet another way to use the animals of the plains for their benefit, but here is was for battle. The men were riding on the backs of wild horses, who did seem to be subdued, but not yet meek! These men had found a way to use the fantastic speed of these animals to their advantage, and there would be no way to escape them. Even the Charioteers from Calah would not be able to match their progress! No doubt, the Scouts would be overrun by the mounted barbarians, and trampled under the legs of the horses. What a horrible way to die in battle, slain by an animal…
Assyrian commanders from Tell Mardich set forth on their trip to Nineveh, to urge their Lord to investigate the use of Horses for warfare, so they would be able to counter-attack these barbarians, and secure Assyria's frontiers.
Attachment: assyria_b3350.net
This has been downloaded 1 time(s).
|
|
|  |
 |
|
Kull

|
|
El Paso, TX USA
Mar 1999 time: 22:22
|
|
It was quiet now. Not a perfect silence to be sure, but at this late evening hour the remaining noises were those of nature - the kind of normal background hum that Ramesses had known all his life and found perfect for contemplation. Ramesses. That would take some getting used to. As most men aged, the fires of discovery cooled in their breasts - but that truth, like many others, didn't apply to Merneptah! The old buzzard seemed to grow more inventive with each passing moon, and it hadn't taken long before he came up with an entirely new concept for Pictographs. As far as the Nomarch was concerned, the new "Hieroglyphs" still looked like pictures - but instead of one-for-one identifiers, they now represented distinct human voice portions, or "syllables" as Merneptah called them. Thus you could mix and match the hieroglyphs to obtain entire words, and that included concepts like time and distance as opposed to just a listing of items. There were plenty of advantages to this form of symbolism, not least the new ability for the Nomarch to communicate his thoughts entirely via writing to city governors and distant military commanders. The problem for the Nomarch was it took 5 hieroglyphs to spell out his old name, and so Merneptah had suggested slimming it to 2 by using this new pronunciation. Ramesses. Hmmmmph. The Nomarch enjoyed his rare moments of contemplation, but this one was making his head hurt.
Far more pleasant to think of today's celebrations. The solstice was an important event on the Egyptian Calendar. Throughout the year, Ra's journey through the heavens alternately grew longer and then shorter, and no one - even those idiotic chanting priests - really knew why. He hadn't shared this thought with anyone, but the Nomarch suspected it was all related to temperature. In the hot summer days, Ra was happy to be outdoors - hunting, hawking, and driving his chariot. Conversely, during the chilly winter the Sun God was undoubtedly in a hurry to get home for dinner and some warming bedtime bliss with his wives! Whatever the reason, it was a critical point in one of the most important annual cycles governing Egyptian life. The solstice festival celebrated the end of the year - marking the final harvests and the time when all looked forward to the next Nile flood - after which the cycle of planting, tending, and harvesting would continue as it had since the beginning of time. Ramesses grinned briefly at this thought. He'd done plenty of harvesting himself this year. New crops of cities, peoples, and armies had been added to the growing Memphis Nome - but sweetest of all were his children. There were now thirty-two of the little bees (what else to call them? They almost seemed to buzz as they swarmed through the palace each day!) with twelve more arriving this year alone! Children were the greatest Gift the Gods could send, and who knew, perhaps there could be twenty more in the year to come?
Looking up into the dark starry skies, savoring the rich night air, it was impossible not to smile as Ramesses contemplated all that was right with his world. It was good to be the Nomarch! And then his eyes closed and the smile spread all the way to his heart as a waft of sweet perfume added its fragrance to the cool breeze. Soft hands slid though his hair to stroke the scalp beneath, and then moved down to knead the muscles of the Nomarch's neck. He started to turn, but the hands instead became firm - pushing and guiding him to the nearby divan. Lying face down in the cushioned softness, Ramesses felt the clothes being tugged from his body, and then the hands returned - spreading the massage from his neck down to the shoulders, and then lower still. His eyes still shut, half in a dream, the Nomarch could feel himself caressed by other parts of her body - smoother, silkier, and wonderful in every way. Yes, today was a time to celebrate harvests - but tonight the cycle had moved on. His smile now spreading to the tips of every extremity, the Nomarch's contemplation turned once again - dwelling now on delicious thoughts of the sowing to come!
Attachment: egypt_b3350.net
This has been downloaded 1 time(s).
|
|
|  |
 |
|
Stefan Härtel
|
 |
Eddie's best friend
Jul 1999 time: 06:22
|
|
It was a cold, sunless winter morning. Snow had fallen hard on the mountains, and the road to Ecbatana seemed to have disappeared. It was a hard task for Vadfradad, the young recruit, to struggle himself to Ecbatana from the western frontier of the empire.
Not only because it was cold, dark and dangerous.
It was hard, because it was the day of Mithras. On this day, he would normally be celebrating with his family, in Behesht, or with his friends at the border. But neither of both was the case. He was carrying a letter of vital importance to Ecbatana, to the residence of the Great King.
Nobody exactly knew what the letter contained. Naturally, Vadfradad felt tempted to open the letter and read it. But he resisted. He tried to explain to himself, that he didn't do it because it wasn't his business. But that was not true. The letter carried three seals. Whose seals they were was anyone's fair guess. But most people were sure that they were the seals of the King of Assyria.
Vadfradad paused for a moment. He had been running since sunset. His horse had dropped dead halfway between his outpost in the mountains of Adharbaidjan and Ecbatana. It was now, he estimated, fifteen miles of Mede measure to Ecbatana. He needed a rest. Fifteen Mede miles on foot! Normally, there'd be a road here, but it was all covered with snow, and unrecognizable from the rest of the barren and plain landscape. He'd be safer from the weather if he'd walk along the slopes of the mountains far to the left and right of him, but he'd definately become prey to a wolf, a bear, or some abstracted kind of human being who vowed to celebrate Mithras' birthday with a meal of human flesh.
Vadfradad stared down at the letter. One of the seals showed a man wrestling two snakes, holding them at their heads in his both hands. Right and left of him were inscriptions, but Vadfradad couldn't read them, for they were definately not in Persian or Median.
As he stared on the seal, he knew his situation was ridiculous. If the letter bore good news, it'd be carved into stone and placed on any marketplace throughout the empire. Some fool would surely read the contents aloud for the masses. So it was of no difference if he broke the seals now and read the letter. However, if the letter was bad news, he'd be executed anyway, for being the poor hog who had to deliver the message. So it was of no difference either if he broke the seals.
Of course, breaking the seals was a crime fit for capital punishment. His head would roll as soon as the broken seals had been seen. And he wasn't worthy of reading a letter sent to the Great King himself. His eyes, so it had been told long ago, would be eaten by snakes and his fingers would be stinged by scorpions while his organs were eaten by the fiercest of wolves he'd ever imagined, as he fried in hell for ever and ever. Not a nice prospect.
It was still a long way to Ecbatana, so Vadfradad resumed running. Perhaps, if he was lucky, the Great King would reward him for a good message, and he got to celebrate Mithras' day after all. Not with a decorated pistachio tree, presents, carols and family, but at least under a roof with a nice cozy fire, and the famous Mede roast beef.
Attachment: cy_b3350.net
This has been downloaded 2 time(s).
|
|
|  |
 |
|
Civfan
|
|
Toronto, Canada
Sep 1999 time: 05:22
|
|
The babylons discover more barbarians villages. Word has it they are to be subjected to the Babylon state.
Attachment: ha_b3340.net
This has been downloaded 2 time(s).
|
|
|  |
All times are GMT. The time now is 05:22. Apolyton Time is 00:22. |
top of page
|
|
|
Forum Rules:
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts
|
HTML code is ON
vB code is ON
Smilies are ON
[IMG] code is ON
|
|
|
|
|
|