Your most Memorable Strategy game Expirence

[Cowabungaa]

I suck too much at RTS to have any really awesome stories. Most of them are "trolololo" moments like overwhelming all of my enemies in Red Alert 2 with a swath of cloned Conscripts that took up 25% of the minimap.

Or clearing out the entire Black Forest map on Age of Empires 2 until only a few humongous fortresses were left standing there in a wasteland of tree stumps. Yeah that was a fun game.

If you've never seen DEFCON here's a screenshot:

<img height=400>http://www.lgdb.org/sites/default/files/screenshot1_5.jpg

Now imagine that in a darkened Auditorium on a Cinema screen. Breathtaking.

Not to mention haunting as hell. The weeping. The weeping!

That game does a wonderful job of making you feel like a cold, calculating general. Even when I decided to turn Mexico to molten slag because I don't like burritos.

Nice stories all of you. Its great to read about so many interesting games. I'm surprised i have not seen Rise of Nations yet.

I loved that game. So much. Actually I might reinstall that when I need an RTS fix. I remember one game being almost like some sort of doomsday scenario. Almost the entire map covered in industrial complexes and the like, rains of bombs everywhere.

And then the nukes came.

Playing Civ 3 for 100 turns. Mao took my diamond mine. I took his continent, then chased him through Greece and into Germany, where I nuked his final city on turn 100.

It was glorious.

I had something like that in Civ 5. Austria denounced me and threatened me for a bit. Then declared war and quickly asked to forget all about this silly misunderstanding when I shoved them out of my territory.

No, I said.

And so I meticulously eradicated the Austrians for no other reason than spite. And every turn I got a peace offering but the answer stayed the same.

 

[Beffudled Sheep_v1legacy]

I have a couple but my first most memorable success was in Civilization Revolution on the PS3.

I had spent nearly all of my games playing on the easy and normal difficulty settings (I forget what they're called) because I like to have fun and not smash my controllers when I play games. But one day my friend goaded me into playing on Deity, the hardest difficulty. I don't remember who I chose or who I was playing against (my memory is fuzzy...) but I, being the only human player, was at a severe disadvantage because the AI cheated at that difficulty. Within a dozen nor so turns I was 5 techs behind the next least advanced civ and I had barely any buildings or units. Another couple dozen turns pass and I now have 2 cities (I prefer small empires), each with a couple wonders. After that I started massing units. As many archers and pikeman I could afford. I was surrounded on all sides by much more advanced civs that wanted the pathetic little lands I held.

Obviously I was attacked by two civs simultaneously. My puny defenses fell quickly to the onslaught of superior units. Many turns passed and through my ability to rush (I had a lot of production and gold because of my starting area) many untis I was able to keep the numerous assaults at bay, sadlyI lost my 2nd city however. I don't know why but suddenly the most dangerous civ made peace with me (the AI was inconsistent in that game) and the other had another civ declare war on it, distracting it. I used this opputunity to replenish my coffers by spamming caravans. After I had a suitable amount of gold I buitl numerous siege units and knights. The civ that held my second city had left it mostly undefended and it was taken quickly and without much injury.

I pressed my luck and went deeper into it's territory. I took one city at staggering losses and decided to make peace.

I won't bore you with peacetime details so in short I spammed culture buildings, converted weaker enemy cities, spammed more culture buildings, and then after I had an empire of 6 cities I turned everything to science generation and adapted democracy (+25% gold and science). I was still behind but I was catching up by buying techs from other civs and spamming great scientists that I was frequently blessed with.

By the time I caught up tech wise two other civs were wiped out by other AI. They turned their eyes on my still small empire... but I was prepared.
Inside my gates were multiple stacks of Modern Infantry (best unit in the game imo), each one upgraded through buildings and such. All attacks were repelled with extreme effectiveness. I lost many armies but I had dozens more to replace it. After they exhausted their armies on my walls I had lost two cities but they had lost all combat non-defense units. I used bombers, tanks and artillery to take my cities back and slowly expanded into their territories.

City after city fell to my waves of meat and metal. Each one had culture and science builings bought to keep me at the edge of success. It was late game and I was launching spaceship parts to get the science ending. One other civ (Catherine, I remember) was two parts ahead of me though and I was focusing the full might of my armies on her expansive and ill-coordinated empire. Before long she was down to her capital, but it was too well defended for my armies to penetrate. She had to have a dozen and a half units stationed in her capital, all well entrenched defenders. My mightiest units failed to break through. I was losing a bomber wing, a tank army and two modern infantry armies for every one of her defending armies.

She launched the second to last part of the spaceship.... and then I had completed the Manhatten Project and received my ICBM.
I switched my government to Despotism ( the starting type, no bonuses or disadvantages), took the turn of anarchy and then launched my missile at moscow.
It was reduced to 1 population and I rolled my tanks in to take it.

I had beaten her by the skin on my teeth and lost countless armies in the conquest of her entire empire. I built more units to defend my now greatly expanded borders and prepared to destroy the other two civs. But they had been preparing as I waaged war and unleashed their last and best armies against me. I couldnt push them back, they were too strong and surprisingly coordinated, but I kept them at bay with an endless stream of Modern infantry armies (my capital city was producing two armies per turn and my other cities were contributing greatly as well). I would've produced other units but they weren't good enough defenders and got defeated without being able to do much damage.

I had finally pushed them back and laid siege to their capital cities when I won a Science victory.

I had launched my spaceship 10 turns before my near Domination victory and it reached its destination one turn before I assimilated the other civs final cities.

I had done what my friends and I had previously thought impossible... I beat the game on Deity difficulty AND got the highest rank achievable (above Winston Churchill).

I've been gloating ever since that lone victory many years ago. None of my friends have been able to defeat Deity.

Neither have I since that one time but I don't tell them that

 

[Quazimofo]

The valiant defence of Innsbruck in Medieval II : Total War.

Basically managed to defend Innsbruck, which was a castle pretty much embedded into a mountainside on the battle map, basically ended up being Helm's Deep by any other name. I can't remember how many successful defenses I pulled off (as Holy Roman Empire) with, like, two units of spear militia, two units of peasant archers, a light cavalry and a general's bodyguard.

The Milanese kept coming, and they broke upon us like the ocean upon a mighty iceberg. They never got past the courtyard, just holding them up with the spear militia while the tiny units of cavalry kicked their back doors in.

By the time the fortress fell, the general was long dead, but before that he was, like, a 7-star general from the defenses.

CHARLEMANGE!

ive not had a really successful defense like that, but i did have one in rome where i sold my town dearly. Very, very dearly.

it was an old reblel town not directly connected to me (i was playing scipii, the blue guys in the south) that was in that one stretch of land right on the coast of essentially yugoslavia, you know the one?

Anyway, i had like 2 town watches, maybe 3, 1 or 2 hastati at fuck-all strength ( i had long passed the point where you cant build, and therefore retrain, them anymore), and a unit of early legionary cohorts. just some cheap guys to keep the happiness up and the income rolling in ya know?

so i hit the point where i gotta go fight them romans, and i forgot about this town until after i declared war, so it got hit by the brutii who had just conquered greece. They came in force. massive, ungodly force. Full stack army of early legionary cohort and a general. the only defense this town had was the first level wooden fence. not an ideal situation. no fleet was nearby for evacuation of the forces, so there was no choice. fight to the death.

To this day i am proud of every single man who fought for me that day. nobody retreated, not once. Every single one died before the day was lost, and they sold themselves dearly.

as the battle begun, i knew there was no point in trying to hold the whole wall. if they got multiple breaches, it would be a slaughter and there was nothing to be done about it. If i stayed too close to the wall they would just spearfuck me before i could do anything, so i had to stay back a bit. Every single soldier i had, besides 2 town watches in reserve, were waiting (240 men, because town watch units are fucking big, but shitty). the brutii and their simple ai did the logical thing, move forward with 3 battering rams to break open the front gate and subsequent wall, with 2 of the three effectively backups in case of fire arrows.

Luckily, the AI isnt the smartest, and broke open the gate, and one section of wall immediately adjacent (or rather, adjacent enough i could still get it all as one big melee), but neglected to finish off the 3rd section it attacked, opting instead to pour through the open doors. My evil plan had succeeded in it's initial reliance on dumb luck, and the battle, several minutes in technically, was finally begun.


The entirety of my horde rushed forward, cohort at the front, outdated and ageless hastati just behind, backed by a mass of town watch. the brutii threw their entire army into those 2 gaps, but few men ever were engaged in battle thanks to the natural chokepoint the holes in the wall offered.

Soldiers met head to head. Swords clashed, shields batted away blows, the clink of metal on metal, the clang of sword on shield, the squish of metal rending flesh. These sounds filled the air that day. The smell of fresh corpses wafted through the winds, mixed with the sweat and blood of the combatants. Men fell, more pressed forward, filling the gaps left by their fallen brethren. corpses littered the battlefield, soon becoming so thick there was no longer solid ground to step on.

The battle raged on and on; hours must have passed. Spears and swords swinging and stabbing constantly, bodies trampled underfoot by fresh men of the Brutii eager to join the battle but meters away. The defenders began to falter. Those who were near the back ranks of their formation found themselves within spitting distance of the enemies. The few brave souls at the forefront who had yet survived were fatigued by the slaughter. The Brutii never ceased, they were gaining ground, and soon there would be no soldiers left to fight them. The order was given, Retreat to the town center. The fight The town watch managed to break off the engagement, but the Legionnaires who never left the front lines stayed. They were less than 10 in number, and they knew their time was done.

While their comrades retreated to catch their breath for the final stand, the legionnaires planted their heels and stood, Shields raised, and swords at the ready for one final fight, Heads held high as they stared death in the face, and spat. they were surrounded, they were killed. But none died without a new companion to join them on the path to hell.

also, i forgot that i did have one unit of peasants i had managed to run off before the battle had begun, but they were with the reserves. anyway, back to the overly dramatic story telling

Ahem...

The battered watch retreated behind their brothers who had sat in reserve, eager to catch a breath before the battle began anew. behind them followed a host of legionnaires... bearing the enemy colors. The fresh watch were disheartened, seeing so few of their brothers return, with a still seemingly endless tide of green marching forward. They steeled themselves for the charge, knowing full well from the pre-battle that they were going to die that day. Every single one resolved to fight to the death.

The enemy advanced slowly however, the men in front panted visibly, and many sported glancing wounds which bled clear as day. Perhaps there was hope yet for victory! perhaps the tide had finally reached reached its limit! But no, this was not the case, for soon fresh men were spotted pushing the wounded aside and sprinting forward, eager to join the battle they could only smell from their deep positions in the ranks.

they ran forward, disorganized, spread apart, undisciplined. One, two, five at a time hit the ranks of the first fresh rank of Watch, and each man was met with a wall of spears. Their eagerness was their undoing. By the time the exhausted horde reached their ranks, pushed forward by generals unwilling to allow any respite against the staunch defenders, the Watch was more than ready, and dozens fell to the initial clash. None had looked to the right however, and soon the second wall of Watch had joined the fray, killing dozens more in the charge, and even killing the enemy leader who, impatient with his army, had worked his way to the front. A Fool He Was!

With his death, the exhausted horde tried to run, convinced they could not win against these indomitable defenders. The Watch would not just let them flee however, they had killed more than half of the defenders already, all of whom honorable soldiers, and the Watch was eager for revenge. Hundreds were trampled and stabbed as they tried to retreat. Screams mixed with battle cries as the cowards tried to escape with their lives, and failed. But this counter-charge was the final nail in the coffin, for miraculously there were still a few of the enemy who had not yet seen battle! enough to match the original defenders in number, and fueled by a calm fury at seeing so much death at what was believed to be a one-sided battle.

No longer was this a clash of armies, this was a slaughter of vengeance. These veterans of the enemy hacked and slashed through the defenders with horrific ease, pushing all the way back to the town center where the few men who survived the initial clash were finally rested enough to rejoin the fray. Once again, they had the advantage of a flank, but the Attackers were no fools. Every one was a veteran, and they knew these tricks. The flank attackers found a disciplined wall, and the few remaining defenders were cut down.

At the end of this day Three thousand men were dead in the streets. from lowly peasants who had grabbed daggers and volunteered to fight the desperate battle, to seasoned veterans of a bygone era, every one of the 500 defenders lay dead, but not before killing five times their number of the treacherous brutii, and even one of their highest generals!

Every soldier that fought there was a hero, and every single one deserves their rest in paradise. Sleep well heroes of Salona. Sleep well.

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Aaaaaaaand that is why i really shouldn't stat waxing poetic about some inconsequential videogame/tabletop game moment when i have work i need to be doing. I wind up putting the creative effort into the videogame story and then get tired of writing so i dont do the 10% of my final grade college assignment due by 2:30 tomorrow. Eh, its just critical thinking class, its first term, and im still in goddamn high-school so im allowed to fuck up

 

[Quazimofo]

Building the equivalent of 40K Tactical Squads in Command & Conquer (7 Infantry, 1 Rocket Trooper, 1 Grenadier led by a Commando)I built up a full Battle Company of 6 of these and two 10 man squads of Rocket Troopers and 2 10 man squads of Grenadiers, with each squad led by a Commando and proceeded to send them all at the enemy base. The carnage was glorious > and victory was mine.

For the EMPRAH!!!

The codex astartes calls this manuver...

WHY DIDN'T YOU BREAK THE MARINES INTO COMBAT SQUADS!!!!???!?!?!

it says RIGHT THERE in the tactical unit entry under special rules
combat squds

RAGH!

darned videogame players not following the logic of tabletop gamers, even though the method they chose is significantly more effective for the videogame they are playing which some tabletop elitists call real time tabletop games, and therefore are less good because tabletop games came first, and they are acting like combination elitist-hipsters, and im totally not one of those people and respect people having fun with rts games even if it defies logic and reason, and likes reading these kinds of stories and even do it myself sometimes but thats not he point and im rambling now...

TLDR: its a joke post

 

[Timedraven 117]

The valiant defence of Innsbruck in Medieval II : Total War.

Basically managed to defend Innsbruck, which was a castle pretty much embedded into a mountainside on the battle map, basically ended up being Helm's Deep by any other name. I can't remember how many successful defenses I pulled off (as Holy Roman Empire) with, like, two units of spear militia, two units of peasant archers, a light cavalry and a general's bodyguard.

The Milanese kept coming, and they broke upon us like the ocean upon a mighty iceberg. They never got past the courtyard, just holding them up with the spear militia while the tiny units of cavalry kicked their back doors in.

By the time the fortress fell, the general was long dead, but before that he was, like, a 7-star general from the defenses.

CHARLEMANGE!

ive not had a really successful defense like that, but i did have one in rome where i sold my town dearly. Very, very dearly.

it was an old reblel town not directly connected to me (i was playing scipii, the blue guys in the south) that was in that one stretch of land right on the coast of essentially yugoslavia, you know the one?

Anyway, i had like 2 town watches, maybe 3, 1 or 2 hastati at fuck-all strength ( i had long passed the point where you cant build, and therefore retrain, them anymore), and a unit of early legionary cohorts. just some cheap guys to keep the happiness up and the income rolling in ya know?

so i hit the point where i gotta go fight them romans, and i forgot about this town until after i declared war, so it got hit by the brutii who had just conquered greece. They came in force. massive, ungodly force. Full stack army of early legionary cohort and a general. the only defense this town had was the first level wooden fence. not an ideal situation. no fleet was nearby for evacuation of the forces, so there was no choice. fight to the death.

To this day i am proud of every single man who fought for me that day. nobody retreated, not once. Every single one died before the day was lost, and they sold themselves dearly.

as the battle begun, i knew there was no point in trying to hold the whole wall. if they got multiple breaches, it would be a slaughter and there was nothing to be done about it. If i stayed too close to the wall they would just spearfuck me before i could do anything, so i had to stay back a bit. Every single soldier i had, besides 2 town watches in reserve, were waiting (240 men, because town watch units are fucking big, but shitty). the brutii and their simple ai did the logical thing, move forward with 3 battering rams to break open the front gate and subsequent wall, with 2 of the three effectively backups in case of fire arrows.

Luckily, the AI isnt the smartest, and broke open the gate, and one section of wall immediately adjacent (or rather, adjacent enough i could still get it all as one big melee), but neglected to finish off the 3rd section it attacked, opting instead to pour through the open doors. My evil plan had succeeded in it's initial reliance on dumb luck, and the battle, several minutes in technically, was finally begun.


The entirety of my horde rushed forward, cohort at the front, outdated and ageless hastati just behind, backed by a mass of town watch. the brutii threw their entire army into those 2 gaps, but few men ever were engaged in battle thanks to the natural chokepoint the holes in the wall offered.

Soldiers met head to head. Swords clashed, shields batted away blows, the clink of metal on metal, the clang of sword on shield, the squish of metal rending flesh. These sounds filled the air that day. The smell of fresh corpses wafted through the winds, mixed with the sweat and blood of the combatants. Men fell, more pressed forward, filling the gaps left by their fallen brethren. corpses littered the battlefield, soon becoming so thick there was no longer solid ground to step on.

The battle raged on and on; hours must have passed. Spears and swords swinging and stabbing constantly, bodies trampled underfoot by fresh men of the Brutii eager to join the battle but meters away. The defenders began to falter. Those who were near the back ranks of their formation found themselves within spitting distance of the enemies. The few brave souls at the forefront who had yet survived were fatigued by the slaughter. The Brutii never ceased, they were gaining ground, and soon there would be no soldiers left to fight them. The order was given, Retreat to the town center. The fight The town watch managed to break off the engagement, but the Legionnaires who never left the front lines stayed. They were less than 10 in number, and they knew their time was done.

While their comrades retreated to catch their breath for the final stand, the legionnaires planted their heels and stood, Shields raised, and swords at the ready for one final fight, Heads held high as they stared death in the face, and spat. they were surrounded, they were killed. But none died without a new companion to join them on the path to hell.

also, i forgot that i did have one unit of peasants i had managed to run off before the battle had begun, but they were with the reserves. anyway, back to the overly dramatic story telling

Ahem...

The battered watch retreated behind their brothers who had sat in reserve, eager to catch a breath before the battle began anew. behind them followed a host of legionnaires... bearing the enemy colors. The fresh watch were disheartened, seeing so few of their brothers return, with a still seemingly endless tide of green marching forward. They steeled themselves for the charge, knowing full well from the pre-battle that they were going to die that day. Every single one resolved to fight to the death.

The enemy advanced slowly however, the men in front panted visibly, and many sported glancing wounds which bled clear as day. Perhaps there was hope yet for victory! perhaps the tide had finally reached reached its limit! But no, this was not the case, for soon fresh men were spotted pushing the wounded aside and sprinting forward, eager to join the battle they could only smell from their deep positions in the ranks.

they ran forward, disorganized, spread apart, undisciplined. One, two, five at a time hit the ranks of the first fresh rank of Watch, and each man was met with a wall of spears. Their eagerness was their undoing. By the time the exhausted horde reached their ranks, pushed forward by generals unwilling to allow any respite against the staunch defenders, the Watch was more than ready, and dozens fell to the initial clash. None had looked to the right however, and soon the second wall of Watch had joined the fray, killing dozens more in the charge, and even killing the enemy leader who, impatient with his army, had worked his way to the front. A Fool He Was!

With his death, the exhausted horde tried to run, convinced they could not win against these indomitable defenders. The Watch would not just let them flee however, they had killed more than half of the defenders already, all of whom honorable soldiers, and the Watch was eager for revenge. Hundreds were trampled and stabbed as they tried to retreat. Screams mixed with battle cries as the cowards tried to escape with their lives, and failed. But this counter-charge was the final nail in the coffin, for miraculously there were still a few of the enemy who had not yet seen battle! enough to match the original defenders in number, and fueled by a calm fury at seeing so much death at what was believed to be a one-sided battle.

No longer was this a clash of armies, this was a slaughter of vengeance. These veterans of the enemy hacked and slashed through the defenders with horrific ease, pushing all the way back to the town center where the few men who survived the initial clash were finally rested enough to rejoin the fray. Once again, they had the advantage of a flank, but the Attackers were no fools. Every one was a veteran, and they knew these tricks. The flank attackers found a disciplined wall, and the few remaining defenders were cut down.

At the end of this day Three thousand men were dead in the streets. from lowly peasants who had grabbed daggers and volunteered to fight the desperate battle, to seasoned veterans of a bygone era, every one of the 500 defenders lay dead, but not before killing five times their number of the treacherous brutii, and even one of their highest generals!

Every soldier that fought there was a hero, and every single one deserves their rest in paradise. Sleep well heroes of Salona. Sleep well.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Aaaaaaaand that is why i really shouldn't stat waxing poetic about some inconsequential videogame/tabletop game moment when i have work i need to be doing. I wind up putting the creative effort into the videogame story and then get tired of writing so i dont do the 10% of my final grade college assignment due by 2:30 tomorrow. Eh, its just critical thinking class, its first term, and im still in goddamn high-school so im allowed to fuck up

You put any story i have to shame. Bravo good sir, bravo.

 

[sagitel]

i was playing empire total war as the Maratha confederacy. after a while i conquered all of India and middle east and i was also getting america, i set out to Europe. i chose Portugal as my base of operations and i conquered Lisbon. i gathered an army and set out to conquer Madrid. the battle of Madrid meant the fate of all Spain and Portugal. if i won i got Madrid and then Europe fell. if he won he got Lisbon and i would be back. any way i positioned my troops and let the battle started. i had a full army with 3 canons 2 generals and 2 howitzers. others being line infantry. and he had one full army and one 500-men army as reinforcements. i started the battle only to find out that he was not starting in front of me but left of me. so i rotated all of my troops. sadly the trenches and guards i built for them couldn't be rotated along with the canons. then the battle started. since i couldn't act as planned the battle turned out to be a 30 minutes battle full of unorganized units killing each other in the streets of Madrid. i remember that in a field about 400 soldiers of each side were killed and it was basically a slaughter. my howitzers were firing all the time. quick lime poured somewhere, explosion somewhere else. it was ... insane!

then i won with high casualties. but suddenly pain got another army. kicked me out of Europe. and i couldn't go back because the game ended!

 

[Tiger Sora]

The most memorable battle ever...

Command and Conquer Tiberium Dawn, GDI Mission 10: Evacuate Delphi
Mission Status: Failure

Initially start by assaulting a beachhead with Nod turrets perched atop the cliffs. You begin with grenadiers to destroy them, than move along the beach taking out a light tank.
MCV arrives on beachhead. Bring it down the beach eastward, set up base atop cliff, construct base and units to defend.

Nod's aggressive in this mission, tossing waves of troops at you. I was also young playing this game so I wasn't a master strategist as I am now.

Nod Forces overwhelmed my own, destroying my base.

Of course I'm really a Nod double agent corroding GDI from the inside. They suspect nothing and Kane is pleased with what I do.

 

[llubtoille]

Sandbagging into the enemy base in C&C until they couldn't move,
then dismantling them piece by piece with ranged units or ion cannon blasts.
that game was awesome.

 

[regalphantom]

A buddy of mine and I were playing a 1v1 in Starcraft 2 while waiting for a third buddy to finish his assignment so we could 3v3. We were playing on this one map (can't remember the name) where the two primary bases are located fairly close together but separated by an impassible void with an island inbetween, meaning you have to move down, across, and back up again before you can reach their base. I had just finished walling in when my buddy, playing zerg, attacks me, effectively trapping me in my own base. Long story short, he eventually out-econs me and gets into my main base, by which point I had expo'd to the center island. He sends his entire airforce after me only to discover that... I had filled the island with ugraded Missile Turrets, destroying his entire air force. I then proceeded to send cloaked Banshees to his bases to wipe out his ability to produce more air units, and did the best I could. He had a massive advantage over me and eventually won by the virtue that he literally had a hatchery on every other mineral site in the game, but I take pride in the fact that the game was MUCH closer than it should have been.

 

[newfoundsky]

WALL OF TEXT INCOMING

Spoiler: Civilization 4.

It was the 18 Civ map, and I chose to be a very, very expansionist America, which I immediately renamed the Nodrak Theocracy.

I named the capital Nodrak, of course. I quickly unlocked the first religion, and made it my mission to spread it across the world. No small feat when most of the other civilizations are dozens of techs from being able to meet me.

I quickly spread the religion to the Aztecs, and thus began a long, prosperous friendship. Until I had to kill them of course, for crimes against the faith. But I will get to that.

After meeting the Inca, who refused to adopt the faith, me and the Aztecs waged a holy war on them. I captured the western Coast of South America, and renamed the capital New Nodrak. The Incan civilization was fully absorbed into the Theocracy.

Around this time, European powers had begun to make contact. I sent my missionaries over and discovered they had adopted heathen faiths and quickly spread my religion. Only the French accepted the one true faith, and they became a long time ally of the Theocracy. The other European powers had formed a clique, however. (This is VERY rare for the European powers. They usually just kill each other.) The Spanish, Germans, and English were helping each other resist the Faith.

Unable to wage my war at the time, I let them sit. I started colonizing Africa and Australia, and converted the Egyptians. The Mali, however, were not to be convinced. The Europeans had gotten to them first. To make matters worse, the Russians were gearing up to wage war on France, who had no other cities besides Paris, and few military units.

The battle lines were being drawn.

The Theocracy and Its Allies so far:

-Nodrak Theocracy (America)
-The Aztecs
-France
-Egypt

The European Alliance:

-England
-Spain
-Germany
-Mali

Current Superpower:

Russia (VERY hostile)

Neutral:
Rome
Persia
Arabs

Things were not looking well for the Faith. The other powers were very far ahead of the Theocracies allies in terms of technology and military power. However, having two continents to yourself has its advantages. For example, I had many more units than I needed. I gifted my most powerful units to France one turn before Russia finally lost it and declared war. Germany, the spineless dogs, lets the Russians through. I organized my allies and we all declared war on Russia. I landed some forces in France to help further beef them up, and on a whim, sent a small force towards the pacific coast of Asia. What I saw was horrifying.

Russia had expanded all the way to the Pacific. I took a small city, and in doing so, met the Mongolians, Japanese, and Chinese. To my surprise, they were all at war with Russia as well. I could use this. Quickly negotiating open borders, I spread my religion to them. and won three more allies in what I dubbed the First Crusade.

The Russian forces in Asia proved to be too powerful, however, and I and my allies were eventually pushed back to the Japanese islands, with China and Mongolia barely holding their capitals.

The war in Europe was going much better however. I secured open bordered for me and my allies from Rome, and started pushing into the Ukraine. As we neared the Russian capital, the war in Asia started looking up. I launched a seaborne invasion and retook my original beach head, and from there was able to retake the land the Chinese and Mongolians had lost and more.

With the Russian capital under siege and their armies broken, they approached for peace. I forced them to adopt the Faith, declare open borders, and gift cities to the Mongols.
Through shrewd diplomacy and luck, I managed to become a superpower.

The second, third, and fourth Crusades would come to test my resolve in the Faith, shatter my alliances, and forge numerous others. I learned much about myself in this game.

 

[BrotherSurplice]

Spoiler: Big damn wall of text incoming

I remember this incredible battle I once had in Empire Total War. I named it "Wolfe's Drift".

It was in the Road to Independence campaign, in the Seven Years War section. I wanted to snap up some of the Cherokee territories, so I captured one of their towns with a small force of rangers and militia. I had besieged the town, let them come to me, and then smashed their small force of warriors and tribesmen. So I leave the militia to hold the captured town and send my force of about five hundred rangers and a general with his staff north to lay siege to the Cherokee capital.

My train of thought was "it won't be too bad right? There'll only be a few units of warriors and tribesmen right? Right?"

Spoiler: Right?

When I get there, one of my sergeants comes to me and says, "the sentries report Cherokees to the northwest sir, thousands of 'em".

My little strike team of five hundred rangers and their general is attacked by a force of over three thousand Cherokee warriors and tribesmen. Against all of better judgement I decide to stand and fight. I form my men up in a single line of just two ranks in a copse of trees and bushes, a pitifully small force compared to the juggernaut crashing towards me. The Cherokee host comes into sight on the horizon, a sea of brutal looking weapons mixed with a few dozen muskets, a rippling mass of bared torsos and warpaint. My men and their general stoically stand fast as they see their doom approaching.

The ground rumbles as they approach, closer and closer, a tide of righteous anger coming to wash over my band of impudent invaders. The host comes into range, opening the battle with a flurry of shots from their musketmen. Several rangers fall, the wounded who cannot stand crawling back behind the line, grateful for a moments respite from the horde bearing down on them. The great mass of bodies gives a tremendous cheer and surges forward. The order to present goes up along the thin green line, and four hundred and eighty muskets go to four hundred and eighty shoulders. From the Cherokee point of view, it looks as if the whole line of rangers has made a quarter turn to the right. The officers draw breath and bring their swords up, while the Cherokee warriors charge on, confident that the spirits are with them in their struggle against invasion.

"FIRE!"

The swords come down, the dogheads snap forward, the flint strikes steel, sparks fly, the gunpowder flashes in the pan and half a second later four hundred and eighty three-quarter inch balls of lead explode out of the muzzles and smash into the front ranks of the Cherokee swarm. The men firing the muskets are elite rangers, sharpshooters that have honed their deadly skills in the woods of their homeland. Few of the bullets miss. Without thinking, the green-coated men reload. The musket butts come to the floor, the cartridges are bitten open, a pinch of powder goes in the pan, the rest goes down the barrel, the cartridge paper goes on top of the powder, the bullet is spat down the muzzle, the ramrod is thrust into and out of the barrel, the dogheads come back up and four hundred and eighty musket butts come back to four hundred and eighty shoulders. The dogheads come down again, the powder flashes in the pan again and another four hundred and eighty three-quarter inch balls of lead smash into the Cherokee swarm.

The charge falters, but does not stop. The noise and the smoke disorientate the tribesmen, the dead and dying from the volleys make footing treacherous, but still the tribesmen surge forward. The green coats are within spitting distance, close enough to see the terrified faces of the younger soldiers and the calm faces of the older soldiers. Another volley crashes out, almost at point blank range, and scores more tribesmen fall. The swarm clambers over the piles of dead and dying and are finally able to reach their enemy. Axes swing and thud into flesh. The rangers abandon their firing and fight with the butts of their muskets and with their bare hands. The Cherokees fight with the anger of men fighting for their country, while the rangers fight with the savage desperation of men who know that they will die if they fail. The harsh metallic sounds echo all along the line and the ground becomes red with blood. Wounded men crawl out the fight on both sides of the line, desperate to escape the brutal melee whirling behind them. A mass of horses crash into the fight, as my general makes a desperate charge to beat the enemy back. The heavy, straight bladed swords of the men smash onto men's skulls, killing more by the weight of their blade rather than the sharpness of their blade.

The Cherokee begin to lose heart. Hundreds of their number lie dead or dying, killed by the volleys and by the brass bound musket butts. The men they face are far braver and more skilled than they thought. At the rear of the host, men begin to go back. Some use the pretense of helping the wounded, but eventually the trickle becomes a flood. The Cherokees fall back in disarray. The rangers reform their line, reload and smash more volleys into the retreating enemy. They are too exhausted to pursue, so they use the respite to care for the wounded and check their weapons. For on the horizon, the Cherokee are reforming. Their chief rides among them, exhorting them to another act of courage. Though hundreds of Cherokees are dead and dying, less than three hundred rangers remain, standing in a line that looks even more pitiful than when they started.

The Cherokee surge forward again, the volleys crash out, scores of tribesmen fall and the brutal melee begins anew. The axes and musket butts swing, hands claw at the enemy and the wounded are trampled underfoot. The generals of both armies charge again. Again the Cherokee lose heart, and fall back. The rangers now number just over two hundred. The Cherokees reform again. One last charge should see the impudent British invaders off the Cherokee's land. Another charge, more fall to the volleys that now seem horribly small and the melee begins a third time. Blood flows in rivers as the exhausted tribesmen and green coats fight desperately. But of the Cherokee army of three thousand that had marched to fight the British, almost two thousand lie dead, dying or wounded on the battlefield. Their chief falls, torn from his horse and clubbed to death my a mob of rangers. They fall back, more volleys crash out and the retreat becomes a rout.

The rangers see their enemy fall back and a cheer goes up from the force that now numbers just over a hundred. The cheer is nervous at first, as they fear another charge, but it grows in volume as they realize that the enemy is retreating for good. Men clap each other on the backs and hold their tattered, bullet scarred flags to the sky. The general, with less than ten bodyguards and staff members still on their horses, slumps in his saddle and weeps for joy at his victory, and in sorrow for the cost. The ranger's jubilation swiftly turns to weariness and sadness, as they find dead friends under the piles of corpses. They return to their camp carrying the wounded on their supply wagons. They return under a flag of truce to the battlefield to collect their dead. The Cherokees are their too, collecting their dead and wounded and harbouring a new found respect for these men in green coats who had fought so bravely.

In the British camp, the general sits in his tent before a table strewn with maps and lists. He gives an order: "One day to rest, bury the dead and care for the wounded. The day after, we strike camp and return to British territory". As the blood stained staff officers wearily leave to carry out his orders, the general takes one more look at the maps that he is about to roll up. One thought flashes through his mind.

"I. Will. Return."

Well, this post turned out longer than I ever thought it would.

EDIT: Spoilered because of wall of text.

 

[Quazimofo]

snip

snip

You put any story i have to shame. Bravo good sir, bravo.

well, thats just over-dramatizing it. it was basically just 3/4 of my army wailing on theirs at the gates, pulling back, using flank charges to panic the dumbass ai that only went down one street, and then running down the panicked soldiers, before getting slaughtered by a much better equipped enemy.

 

[Glademaster_v1legacy]

Probably when my 2 friends and I were playing a game of CoH on Villers Bocage. Actually, I have 2 from that map. In one our 3rd friend dropped and we decided to jeep rush while he had a smoke. It went so well we continued. We lost a lot of ground and the AI base but we were both Armour Company so we pushed them back with Pershings and then we repaired the AI base. The AI also went Armour. So they got faced rolled by 3 Pershings and the AI spamming off map support.

The other from that map we were Wehrmacht and not USA playing from the left side not right. We had a decent early game but were getting destroyed in the mid game. The enemy had pushed to my base and had destroyed the premade MGs but it was too late for them. They did not have a diverse force so we had all just gotten the ability to have rank 3 tanks so they got face rolled by Panthers, King Tigers and Ostwinds. All they built were Shermans and Riflemen and then said that Wehrmacht were OP because of it.

 

[ChadSexington]

I remember at a LAN once we played a 3 vs. 3 round of Age Of Empires II: Age Of Kings.

My team mates weren't really great RTS players, I'm not amazing, competent certainly but these guys weren't entirely sure what they were doing. They were both pretty aggressive players so I came up with my own little play style which I called the centrelink play style. Essentially, these guys attacked and I built trade carts. Lots of trade carts. About 150 of them. I'd give them gold when necessary and fill my base with castles for defence.

It worked well for a while but as I said earlier, my team mates weren't great so the battle was pretty drawn out. Growing bored of my strategy I instructed one of my friends to build enough ships to transport 200 units across to the enemy island and gave him the appropriate funds to do so.

I was playing as Celts, as I always do and proceeded to wipe out all my trade carts and make 200 Woad Raiders. These guys have low armour but high speed and damage vs. buildings. I loaded them up, he dropped me off and about thirty seconds later I hear my friend (other team) yell "WHAT THE FUCK? GUYS, I NEED HELP!" Within about two minutes I'd wiped out his base (through tears of laughter) and moved onto his friends base. It only took about five minutes from the point I attacked for the game to end.

It's not often I kick ass but when I do I feel like such a bad ass.

 

[Kiefer13]

*Epic Snip*

...and now I want to play Rome: Total War again.

Bravo good sir, for a thoroughly enjoyable read.

 

[ParanoidEngineer]

One that isn't my best probably, but one that I do remember.

For those of you who don't know, in Starcraft II (don't complain about the amount of SCII replies on this post, it's a sport, people play it) you get a new profile picture when you reach milestones with each race. For example, when you win 10 games as Terran, you get a Marine picture. At 25, a Marauder, at 50, a Medivac, at 100, A Siege Tank, and at 250, a Ghost. I play Random (meaning I play all three races and one gets chosen at random at the start of the game) , so I get pictures for all three races and Random pictures too. My usual thinking is "if they've got a good picture, they're going to be tough to beat". Obviously this is ridiculous, because you could win 1000 games as Zerg by zerg-rushing and be beaten by a noob who uses a Hellion harass he saw online, but I still think it. So I jumped into a game after I just unlocked the 25 wins as Protoss badge, and saw I was facing a Ghost. Shit.

I silently (as I often do before matches like this) that I would get Zerg. I did. I open up by going for a baneling bust to do some good damage early game. I send a scoutling up his ramp and see he's walled off not with a barracks and two supply depots, as is normal, but he's gone for some hyper-mega-super-wall-of-neverbreaking with three bunkers with marines, six depots, two barracks and two starports with tech labs. I break through and wreck his economy, but here's his tactial error that basically saved me the game: he showed me his two starports. That meant one thing only: 2port Banshee (Banshee are cloaked anti-ground units that wreck Zerg early game). I throw down two spore crawelers at each base and mass my queens. He attacks, I eat his Banshees. And by now, I bring out my Brofestors. I end up attacking him with 36 2/2 'lings and 19 Infestors. He had a lot of anti-zergling though, so I bury my Infestors. All my Infestors had 200 energy, and could spawn an Infested Marine (Terran Marines on my side) for 25 energy each. Do the maths. From my secret burrowed location, I send 152 Infested Marines into his base, each with 2/2 upgrades. They melt his face, but he built a Planetary Fortress in his base (god knows why), and I was stuck. But then I just went ahead and used the cunning strategy of MOAR INFESTED MARINES! His Planetary died and he flew off with his starports. Right over my Infestors. I followed him, picking up about twenty-five more Infestors en route, and find his super-secret hidden base. My Infestors have full energy. 352 INFESTED MARINES NOW WITH 3/3 IN YO FACE! He gg'd. I grinned for two days straight.

 

[Lewg999]

Once in Civ 5 while playing as Germany I'd reached about 2010 AD and really , really needed more land because of a lack of resources and my general desire for world domination. Anyway at this point I'd only had one war all game and was on track to win diplomatically. As the map I was playing on was now completely full with no spare territory I made the , in hindsight rather dumb ,decision to nuke a smaller city state ( Edinburgh ) In the hopes of gaining just enough land to build a city.

This did not go well.

I'd completely forgotten that fallout existed from nuclear bombs and the resulting spread of fallout spread into surrounding nations .... 6 of them.

As you can probably tell I won the much contested territory of Edinburgh and lost the support of the just slightly more major powers of Egypt , America , Japan , Greece , France and Britain.

Suffice to say I did not win.

 

[Quazimofo]

*Epic Snip*

...and now I want to play Rome: Total War again.

Bravo good sir, for a thoroughly enjoyable read.

very glad you like it, im rather self conscious about what i write, and i don't do it often.

also after writing that, i really need to find my copy of R:TW. good thing it's still installed.

Captcha: Back to basics. i guess it is captcha, after all that shogun 2, i guess it is.

 

[Timedraven 117]

snip

snip

You put any story i have to shame. Bravo good sir, bravo.

well, thats just over-dramatizing it. it was basically just 3/4 of my army wailing on theirs at the gates, pulling back, using flank charges to panic the dumbass ai that only went down one street, and then running down the panicked soldiers, before getting slaughtered by a much better equipped enemy.

It was amazing man! Those are the overly dramatized epic stories that i love to see!

Spoiler: Big damn wall of text incoming

I remember this incredible battle I once had in Empire Total War. I named it "Wolfe's Drift".

It was in the Road to Independence campaign, in the Seven Years War section. I wanted to snap up some of the Cherokee territories, so I captured one of their towns with a small force of rangers and militia. I had besieged the town, let them come to me, and then smashed their small force of warriors and tribesmen. So I leave the militia to hold the captured town and send my force of about five hundred rangers and a general with his staff north to lay siege to the Cherokee capital.

My train of thought was "it won't be too bad right? There'll only be a few units of warriors and tribesmen right? Right?"

Spoiler: Right?

When I get there, one of my sergeants comes to me and says, "the sentries report Cherokees to the northwest sir, thousands of 'em".

My little strike team of five hundred rangers and their general is attacked by a force of over three thousand Cherokee warriors and tribesmen. Against all of better judgement I decide to stand and fight. I form my men up in a single line of just two ranks in a copse of trees and bushes, a pitifully small force compared to the juggernaut crashing towards me. The Cherokee host comes into sight on the horizon, a sea of brutal looking weapons mixed with a few dozen muskets, a rippling mass of bared torsos and warpaint. My men and their general stoically stand fast as they see their doom approaching.

The ground rumbles as they approach, closer and closer, a tide of righteous anger coming to wash over my band of impudent invaders. The host comes into range, opening the battle with a flurry of shots from their musketmen. Several rangers fall, the wounded who cannot stand crawling back behind the line, grateful for a moments respite from the horde bearing down on them. The great mass of bodies gives a tremendous cheer and surges forward. The order to present goes up along the thin green line, and four hundred and eighty muskets go to four hundred and eighty shoulders. From the Cherokee point of view, it looks as if the whole line of rangers has made a quarter turn to the right. The officers draw breath and bring their swords up, while the Cherokee warriors charge on, confident that the spirits are with them in their struggle against invasion.

"FIRE!"

The swords come down, the dogheads snap forward, the flint strikes steel, sparks fly, the gunpowder flashes in the pan and half a second later four hundred and eighty three-quarter inch balls of lead explode out of the muzzles and smash into the front ranks of the Cherokee swarm. The men firing the muskets are elite rangers, sharpshooters that have honed their deadly skills in the woods of their homeland. Few of the bullets miss. Without thinking, the green-coated men reload. The musket butts come to the floor, the cartridges are bitten open, a pinch of powder goes in the pan, the rest goes down the barrel, the cartridge paper goes on top of the powder, the bullet is spat down the muzzle, the ramrod is thrust into and out of the barrel, the dogheads come back up and four hundred and eighty musket butts come back to four hundred and eighty shoulders. The dogheads come down again, the powder flashes in the pan again and another four hundred and eighty three-quarter inch balls of lead smash into the Cherokee swarm.

The charge falters, but does not stop. The noise and the smoke disorientate the tribesmen, the dead and dying from the volleys make footing treacherous, but still the tribesmen surge forward. The green coats are within spitting distance, close enough to see the terrified faces of the younger soldiers and the calm faces of the older soldiers. Another volley crashes out, almost at point blank range, and scores more tribesmen fall. The swarm clambers over the piles of dead and dying and are finally able to reach their enemy. Axes swing and thud into flesh. The rangers abandon their firing and fight with the butts of their muskets and with their bare hands. The Cherokees fight with the anger of men fighting for their country, while the rangers fight with the savage desperation of men who know that they will die if they fail. The harsh metallic sounds echo all along the line and the ground becomes red with blood. Wounded men crawl out the fight on both sides of the line, desperate to escape the brutal melee whirling behind them. A mass of horses crash into the fight, as my general makes a desperate charge to beat the enemy back. The heavy, straight bladed swords of the men smash onto men's skulls, killing more by the weight of their blade rather than the sharpness of their blade.

The Cherokee begin to lose heart. Hundreds of their number lie dead or dying, killed by the volleys and by the brass bound musket butts. The men they face are far braver and more skilled than they thought. At the rear of the host, men begin to go back. Some use the pretense of helping the wounded, but eventually the trickle becomes a flood. The Cherokees fall back in disarray. The rangers reform their line, reload and smash more volleys into the retreating enemy. They are too exhausted to pursue, so they use the respite to care for the wounded and check their weapons. For on the horizon, the Cherokee are reforming. Their chief rides among them, exhorting them to another act of courage. Though hundreds of Cherokees are dead and dying, less than three hundred rangers remain, standing in a line that looks even more pitiful than when they started.

The Cherokee surge forward again, the volleys crash out, scores of tribesmen fall and the brutal melee begins anew. The axes and musket butts swing, hands claw at the enemy and the wounded are trampled underfoot. The generals of both armies charge again. Again the Cherokee lose heart, and fall back. The rangers now number just over two hundred. The Cherokees reform again. One last charge should see the impudent British invaders off the Cherokee's land. Another charge, more fall to the volleys that now seem horribly small and the melee begins a third time. Blood flows in rivers as the exhausted tribesmen and green coats fight desperately. But of the Cherokee army of three thousand that had marched to fight the British, almost two thousand lie dead, dying or wounded on the battlefield. Their chief falls, torn from his horse and clubbed to death my a mob of rangers. They fall back, more volleys crash out and the retreat becomes a rout.

The rangers see their enemy fall back and a cheer goes up from the force that now numbers just over a hundred. The cheer is nervous at first, as they fear another charge, but it grows in volume as they realize that the enemy is retreating for good. Men clap each other on the backs and hold their tattered, bullet scarred flags to the sky. The general, with less than ten bodyguards and staff members still on their horses, slumps in his saddle and weeps for joy at his victory, and in sorrow for the cost. The ranger's jubilation swiftly turns to weariness and sadness, as they find dead friends under the piles of corpses. They return to their camp carrying the wounded on their supply wagons. They return under a flag of truce to the battlefield to collect their dead. The Cherokees are their too, collecting their dead and wounded and harbouring a new found respect for these men in green coats who had fought so bravely.

In the British camp, the general sits in his tent before a table strewn with maps and lists. He gives an order: "One day to rest, bury the dead and care for the wounded. The day after, we strike camp and return to British territory". As the blood stained staff officers wearily leave to carry out his orders, the general takes one more look at the maps that he is about to roll up. One thought flashes through his mind.

"I. Will. Return."

Well, this post turned out longer than I ever thought it would.

EDIT: Spoilered because of wall of text.

As well as you good sir, amazing stuff, great post the both of you!

 

[mojopin87]

I guess for me, it would have to be my first playthrough of Medieval: Total War. I chose the english as I liked the idea of starting with an island base that would be easy to defend while expanding from my beach-heads in France. Anyways, things were basically going according to plan, first allying myself with the Holy Roman Empire and most of the other nearby factions then, after building my forces, declaring war on France. Again, this basically went off as expected with my more advanced and much larger army making quick work of the French (who had been warring on and off with my allies the HRE most of the game so far). However, when I reached the northern edge of the iberian peninsula I was in for a surprise.

The Spanish, who I had been fairly friendly towards, were in the final stages of being completely wiped out by the staggeringly huge army of the Almohad Caliphate made up of nearly a dozen full banner armies and several Jihad armies in the immediately adjacent provinces alone, with who knows how many more behind them. Knowing I was next, I frantically started pulling my forces from my eastern border to reinforce my provinces in southern France, leaving only small defensive forces to hold the castles along the border of the HRE and hoping my long time allies would not decide to stab me in the back. This set the stage for the ridiculously long, epic contest to decide the fate of western europe. Would I be able to stand against the hordes poised to sweep away all of Christendom?

As I suspected, they declared holy war against me once they finished mopping up the Spanish. In battle after battle I was outnumbered by at least 3:1 but several times almost 5:1. But time and time again, my battle line - consisting of elite infantry units backed by longbowmen (england's special unit and far superior to any other ranged unit of its day), catapults, and large numbers of knights in reserve, held on and broke the enemy leaving the feilds of Bordeaux and Champagne littered with tens of thousands of enemy dead. This went on for at least 20-30 turns of near constant attacks as I slowly bled the relentless enemy dry, frantically rushing fresh units to the front and retraining those too depleted to go on, until, quite suddenly, the attacks slowed, then stopped. Now I had them!

Soon I declared the Crusade targeting the enemy capital and sent my massive and now very, very experienced army into enemy lands. Resistance was stiff at first and each province was bought with buckets of English blood, but after several epic clashes in Castille and Valencia the rout was on. Soon I had swept the entire peninsula, all the while building more units back in my strongholds in France and England, sending fresh armies to the front and restoring my depleted eastern defences which, thankfully, were never tested by the HRE (I later realized that they had been busy slaughtering the danes, the poles, and the hungarians at the time). Seeing little resistance ahead I found no reason to stop now and swept all across the north african coast till I reached Egypt. By this time, my army was streched a little thin with so much new territory acquired so quickly. My spies had also now uncovered the full extent of my erstwhile allies, the HRE. Sending my fleet to retrieve the core of my army from the african coast, I prepared for a long war against the well fortified HRE that would decide who would rule as the true super power of Europe.