In this series, we spin the tale of the opening few turns of Total War: Attila’s
grand campaign, from the Western Roman Empire’s perspective, playing on the normal
difficulty. Surrounded by barbarians and nomadic hordes, the Empire’s borders
are quickly painted a bloody crimson.
Part 1
The
year is 395 AD.
Having fed on the fat of past conquests, Rome, the jewel of the
Empire has become corrupt and decadent. The Senates seats are filled by the
amoral and the lax. Fresh-faced and brimming with ambition, can Emperor Flavius
Honorius Augustus be the agent of change in what is sure to be dark and
tumultuous times?
Emperor Augustus, and by that I mean I, begin by researching Classical Philosophy, in order to reduce corruption across the provinces. This
is the first step on the road to economic recovery, because boy do we need it…
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The finance window. |
Currently,
the Western Roman Empire is bringing in a measly 618 income per month. It
barely covers the cost of the army and leaves little left over for growth.
Naturally,
I move next to reduce the size of the army, specifically to remove the ad-hoc
combinations of Levis Armaturae (skirmishers) and Limitanei Borderguards
(spearmen). In classical Roman fashion, the reformed legions will have a solid
core of heavy infantry; Cohors. Assisted by a sizeable complement of cavalry;
Equites. Lo and behold, we are up to a predicted 5484 income next month.
Finally, I exhaust the remaining Imperial coffers on a mixture of industrial
and agricultural developments, and dish out some governorships (the first to
Emperor Augustus himself of course…).
Almost
immediately after hitting ‘End Turn’, foreign sails are spotted off the southern
coast Britannia, and so, on the first turn of the campaign, the battle for
Camulodumun begins.
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Saxon ships emerge from the veil of fog. |
As I
begin to deploy my forces, it becomes immediately clear just how dire the
situation is; they are attacking the port settlement by sea and I have just one
ship, while theirs seem countless. We are outnumbered four to one.
With
little hope of anything but a watery grave, I dispatched my lone ship towards
the enemy fleet.
Rather remarkably, my marines successful assault and board the enemy general’s vessel. His forces blinded by bloodlust and promised spoils, continue to row hard towards the Britannian beachfront, leaving him to be slaughter at sea.
By the time the fleet reaches land, word of their generals absence spreads like wildfire through the Saxon ranks, hindering their ability to capture the port. Using the narrow streets of Camulodumun, and aided by prepared barricades, we trap the numerically superior Saxons, cutting them down in an almost text-book manner.
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