"Damn," General Scotocles growled. He stood on a hill outside the Grecian city of Laddopolis, watching the construction of towers and the milling of unsettled soldiers. Shaking his head, he wondered why the Gods had made him Greek. Why not Roman, or Egyptian, or even that most noble of races, Shang? Maybe another sacrifice to Mars was in order...
Sighing, Scotocles asked the messenger, "What news of our attack on the Romans?"
"I haven't heard yet --" the young man began, only to be interrupted by the arrival of a force of cavalry. They wore red Grecian uniforms, and their leader quickly rode to the top of the hill, dismounting next to Scotocles.
"Commander Equicles reporting, sir," the officer declared, with a snappy salute. "I am pleased to report the destruction of the Roman city, and the massacre of its inhabitants."
Scotocles brightened. "You destroyed their town center? Their workers?"
"Yes, sir!"
"And what of their army?"
"A few Roman chariots escaped to the East, sir. Nothing of consequence."
Scotocles smiled. "Then we stand alone against Phoenicia. Good. Now it is time to show them our greatness. Bring me the architect."
A shuffling old man appeared; he bore a vague resemblence to Artistotle. Under his arm were rolled sheets of parchment.
"You will begin building my monument at once," Scotocles ordered the old man. "I will put all of the workers at your disposal when they have completed the north defenses."
The architect was disturbed. "Sir, we've just emptied the last mines in this region. If we build the Wonder, we will have severely depleted our resources..."
Scotocles held up a hand to silence the architect. "If I can not defeat the Phoenicians on the battlefield, I will awe them into surrender with a testiment to my power. Go now, and build my statue." The old man turned and walked away, muttering under his breath about arrogant generals.
A few days later, the giant copper statue of Scotocles was rising from the ground, the workers had already completed the feet, and were working on the calves, when a horn sounded along the northern defensive line.
"The Phoenicians are coming! The Phoenicians are coming!" shouted a lookout in one of the high towers.
Indeed, the Phoenicians were coming -- a dozen elephant-mounted archers, a handful of priests, backed up by catapult ships along the coast. Scotocles directed the Greek forces from the hill. His priests converted many of the elephants; his towers slaughtered the enemy holy men. At sea, a fleet of swift Greek Triremes dodged in to sink the Phoenician catapults. In minutes, the Phoenician threat was ended.
"Why are the horns still sounding?" Scotocles asked.
Behind him, in the center of the city, at the base of his magnificent statue, three Roman sycthe chariots danced. Where had they come from? How had they gotten through the Greek defenses? Frantically, Scotocles ordered his heavy cavalry to defend the monument -- but it was too late. The nascent structure collapsed suddenly; a cloud of dust rolled across the bodies of workers butchered by the Roman chariots. Soon the chariots were dead too, killed by Grecian horsemen. But the damage was done...
"I told you so," said the old architect smugly.
With a nod toward the annoying old man, Scotocles ordered "Off with his head!" True, a noble general should avoid fits of pique -- but Scotocles felt that this was a special occasion.
It was going to be a long war.
(Note: I eventually lost when the Phoenician managed to complete a wonder. Even with fully-upgraded Centurions and Helepoli, I couldn't breach the Phoenician defenses. Such is life...)