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I got hooked on the stuff shortly after it hit the streets back in 96.
I spent a good portion of my college years wasting too much of my time on the stuff. I thought I had the AI all figured out, I experiemented with a few scenarios, most couldn't cut it for me. So I slowly weened myself off of it and put it away. I just got bored with it.
So I was going through the cobwebbed portions of my hard drive last friday night and found an old dusty file with the game still in it.
I figured I'd dust it off and give it a whirl, just for old times sake, nostalgia and all. Just to liven it up a little, I figured I'd try it on Emperor level. After all, I had mastered the lesser levels. Build lots and lots of cities. Out advance your neigbors. And finally crush them all with an overwhelming force.
Let me start by saying kudos to the programmers. The AI has surprising depth at the more advanced levels.
By sunday morning had built an empire worthy of global domination. Yet those dastardly Vikings were showing surprising resistance to my tried and true blitzkreig of howitzers supported by stealth fighters. It was pretty tough slogging, of Stalingrad proportions.
Nevertheless, by midafternoon I had the enemy on the run, I had pushed my forces through a bottleneck at an isthmus and had begun to loot and pillage the viking homeland, when those sons of bitches wiped out my advanced forces with a rush built fleet of stealth bombers, and nuked the isthmus.
So I decided it was time to save the game, take a shower, and get something to eat. So when I was showering all I could think of was how those bombers would have to take a turn to refuel, I could get hit them when they were on the ground. When I was eating all I could think of was how the war was in Viking territory. All my cities were fine, and I was outproducing them. It was only a matter of time.
Another few hours I realized that I was pretty much in a quagmire. It's wave after wave of attack and counterattack. I didn't give up until Adult Swim came on, and before I saved I checked 'demographics'. Those thrice-damned, english-raping, lutefisk-eating, square-rigged-sailing Vikings have a larger production base then I do.
And here I am at work on monday and all that I can think about is how a well organized wave of spies might be able to throw a wrench in the Viking war machine.
But I have to remember to pick up some roses on the way home for my poor disgruntled wife. And maybe some No-Doz for myself. As soon as she's asleep those Viking manufacturing plants are coming down.
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