Foreign Secretary: Your Grace, we have been denounced by Egypt.
Player: Did you say “denounced”?
FS: Yes, Your Grace.
P: Did she explain, you know, what the hell that means?
FS: There was a note, sire. [Removes a slip of paper from pocket, reads.] “You are worse than Brutus and Cassius combined. The world will know the truth!”
P: That’s all it says?
FS: Yes, Your Grace.
P: Who the hell are Brutus and Cassius? Friends of hers?
FS: Presumably not, sire, judging from the context. The note does not elaborate.
P: And she didn’t say or do anything else?
FS: No, Your Grace. She just sort of squinted and shook her head at me, then she handed me this note.
P: What does it say on the back there?
FS: [Flips the note over.] It just says, “Denounces You.”
P: Jesus. Ok, well, what does this mean?
FS: It is often a prelude to war, Your Grace.
P: I was afraid of that.
FS: Should we denounce them in return, Your Grace?
P: No, that would just be petty. [Considers further.] Oh, fuck it, go ahead. But what we really need right now is allies.
FS: The Sumerians seem quite keen for friendship, sire.
P: Gilgamesh? [Considers.] Ok, see if he wants to take things to the next level. But don’t come on too strong.
FS: Understood, sire. [Scribbles a note and hands it to an aide, who leaves the room.]
P: So that’s a start. Now back to Egypt…
[Aide returns, hands note to Foreign Secretary.]
FS: [Looks at note.] It is a reply from the Sumerians, Your Grace.
P: Already? How is that even possible?
FS: It just says, “Oh, happy day!”
P: Oh, God. We’re going to be bros now, aren’t we?
FS: I’m afraid so, Your Grace.
P: Oh well, it’s better than nothing. So about Cleopatra…
[Another aide enters, hands note to Foreign Secretary.]
P: Jesus, what now?
FS: It is a message from the Germans, Your Grace. [Reads.] “I commend you on your prudence. To aid that city-state is to invite death.”
P: Good lord, that sounds ominous. Which city state is he talking about?
FS: The note does not specify, sire.
P: Well, how many city states do we even know?
FS: [Checks notes.] Eleven, Your Grace.
P: Great. So as long as we have no relationship with any city state in any way, we should be fine.
FS: Apparently so, sire.
P: Wonderful. So helpful. But back to Egypt, I know those chariot archers are a concern, but…
[Aide enters, hands note to Foreign Secretary.]
P: Well?
FS: It is another note from the Sumerians, Your Grace.
P: [Rubs temples.] Of course it is. Ok, out with it.
FS: [Reads.] “You are a good friend and ally. Gilgamesh will remember this.”
P: I mean, it could have been worse. It’s actually kind of sweet when you think about it.
FS: There’s more on the back, sire. [Reads.] “You have satisfied their agenda: Power Bottom.”
P: And there it is.
[Another aide enters.]
FS: A note from the Zulu, Your Grace: “You have so few troops. Aren’t you afraid for your life?”
P: What the hell…I mean, it’s obviously a very thinly veiled threat, right?
FS: I would think so, sire.
[Another aide.]
P: What fresh hell is this?
FS: From Norway: “Your seas are unprotected, friend. All too easy to raid!”
P: Again, just a really transparent threat.
[Another aide.]
FS: The Mongolians, sire: “The cavalry you field is an embarrassment, but thankfully a small one.”
P: Ok, that’s actually a pretty good burn.
FS: I’ll admit I chuckled, Your Grace.
P: So to summarize, the Egyptians have denounced us and are likely preparing for war, but they haven’t told us what we’re doing wrong.
FS: Yes, Your Grace.
P: The Germans have congratulated us for narrowly escaping their murderous wrath, but they haven’t told us what we’re doing right.
FS: Correct, sire.
P: Shaka has casually mentioned that our army is pathetic and we should probably be scared for our lives…
FS: Correct.
P: …Harald has told us what a weak navy we have and what a shame it would be if someone decided to raid our coastal settlements…
FS: Also correct.
P: …Genghis Kahn is making hilarious but nonetheless menacing jokes about our lack of a cavalry…
FS: Correctamundo!
P: …and our only ally has an entirely donkey-based military and also happens to be the thirstiest bitch on the continent.
FS: A commendably thorough summation of our predicament, your grace.
P: [Sighs.] Well, there’s no point wallowing in it. All we can do is roll up our sleeves and prepare for the inevitab…
[An aide bursts into the room and rushes to the Foreign Secretary, whispers.]
FS: Sire, Egypt has declared war on us! They have taken the city of Fartsberg and they are marching on Fartsmouth!
P: Damn!
[The aide continues whispering to the Foreign Secretary.]
FS: But there’s good news, Your Grace! The Sumerians have arrived in the capital! Farts Landing is saved!
P: God bless that big dummy and God bless the donkey he rode in on!
[Gilgamesh bursts through the door.]
Gilgamesh: GILGAMESH A KIENGI! OOSHA ROOK ANAKOO!
P: I didn’t catch that.
FS: I believe he said, “Gilgamesh is here, where is my little donkey?”
P: I’m the donkey, aren’t I?
FS: I believe so, Your Grace.
P: He’s not here to defend Farts Landing, is he?
FS: No, sire.
P: He doesn’t even know about the war with Egypt, does he?
FS: Utterly oblivious, sire.
G: La tadar, anakoo teebreeja teebakoo.
FS: He says, “Come donkey, I shall embrace you with my comically huge biceps.”
[Gilgamesh embraces Player.]
P: Actually this is surprisingly comfort—[Gilgamesh accidentally squeezes Player to death.]