We should have spent more time researching who Lombardia was friendly with. As our mercenary force carved their way through Cremona, Lombardia called in Milan for help. Using our large cash reserves, we purchased a veritable horde of angry gentlemen, and directed them towards our new foes. Venice was famed for her great mercenary armies, though, so instead of spending most of the year turning chubby blokes into killing machines, we simply hired the finished product. Armies take a long time to raise, what with the training, outfitting, and other tomfoolery associated with gathering a bunch of rowdy men and sending them off to kill people. We were hardly in a position to declare war straight away, however. Our first mission - the impetus for our first war - was the conquest of Cremona, a province to the west that was under the control of Lombardia. Completing such missions confer extra benefits on top of the land you get for taking a province, or the money you stop your enemy from receiving when you blockade their port. To give greater direction to these vast, meandering, centuries-spanning games, Paradox has implemented a mission system to allow for a more goal-orientated approach, should players wish it. If you choose to draw parallels with the excuses used by Germany in WWI, then that’s your problem. We aren’t warmongers, we aren’t conquerors, we just needed room for growth. Now, I would like to point out at this juncture that we’re good guys. With our financial security well in hand, Adam and I thought it was high time to expand our republic. Nobody could be allowed to threaten our lovely money.
Just to be safe, we also ordered a sizable fleet to patrol our trade route. We sent traders into markets connected to our trade network, had them send even more cash our way, and watched as we saw our wee cash counter rise - we were rolling in it. Trade seems to have been really fine-tuned this time around, and we had no small amount of options when it came to expanding our coffers. We had provinces all down the coast of the Adriatic, and further afield we had Crete under our thumb. That we actually ended up drowning in blood and rebellions just goes to show that no plan survives the first five minutes in EUIV, especially when other human players are thrown into the mix. Our plan was a simple one: drown in gold. So I had joint command of wealthy Venice with Rock, Paper, Shotgun’s Adam Smith. Being a gentleman (the worst trait for an EU player), I said I’d be happy to team up with someone and share responsibility for whatever mess we found ourselves in. We started by getting assigned the nations we would lead to victory or death, but there were only eight PCs for nine players. To complicate matters, my playthrough would see me flung into the deep end, as I jumped into a multiplayer match with eight men, at least one of whom was turned into conquering, treacherous, bloodthirsty monster. I am, of course, talking about my first hands-on experience with Paradox’s highly anticipated fourth iteration of its grand strategy flagship, Europa Universalis. It took place within an extremely warm room, in front of a PC, surrounded by fellow journalists. The greatest struggle didn’t take place outside in the frosty tundra, however. A tale of greed, rebellion, and lost gloryĪ wee while ago, I was struggling through blizzards raging across Iceland to cover the Paradox Convention in Reykjavik, hence all the previews I’ve been drip feeding you over the last week or so.
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