In this thread I will post your AAR's, a discussion thread will be opened as a place to pick over the AARs and to see which is most successful.
In this thread I will post your AAR's, a discussion thread will be opened as a place to pick over the AARs and to see which is most successful.
Send in the Elephants
By Ramses II CP
Part 1
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:Overview, 1174-1226.
The Rajput Maharaja was leader of only a small nation, but he was ambitious, and sensed much weakness in the rebels who controlled the lands around his. When a mighty army had been gathered, at great expense, the will of the Rajput people sent it out into the world to expand their nation and enrich their cities.
As the years passed the rich coastal cities to the south fell easily, but the castle at Ajmer remained a thorn in the Maharaja's side. Once again the armies gathered into a single force, and marched forth to war.
Ajmer was taken, though the Maharaja fell in the battle. His son proved to be greatly ambitious as well, and expanded the Rajput empire northward, to the edges of the Ghorid Sultanate, who had taken Delhi mere seasons before a Rajput army could arrive. The Maharaja wisely signed an alliance into being with the Ghorids, and looked to expand to the west.
The rich coastal trade and the ever increasing merchantry deeper in India led to a build up of armies and funds. The Maharaja approached the Ghorid Sultan about purchasing land from him, and found him agreeable. Delhi and another Ghorid city were bought for a King's ransom. Inevitably the continued independence of the Sindi people grated on the Maharaja, and despite an alliance between the Rajput and the Sindi an excuse was found to declare war. The unprepared enemy lost his cities and castle after only a brief campaign.
Next came war against the Ghazni, who had been fighting our Omani allies for many years. Coastal cities which the Omani had spent wildly to defend against the Ghazni were purchased by our Maharaja, replenishing our ally's war chest and expanding our territory.
After the Ghazni met their doom at our hands the Kwarezmshah were next. The fools had attacked the Ghazni while they were occupied with our Rajput armies and taken several of the cities the Maharaja coveted. Alas, the Maharaja fell in an early battle against the Kwarezmshah, but his successor was every bit his equal in ambition, and exceeded his predecessor in shrewdness. Unfortunately for him, his ascent to power was quickly followed by the arrival of the Mongol Horde.
The Mongol invasion from the north had taken the entire Rajput Empire by surprise. The year of their arrival was the year that the last renegade generals of Khwarezmshah were put to death, bringing their national identity to an end. Maharaja Arjunavarman the Cunning sat in council for many days with his mightiest generals, contemplating the situation. The unfortunate truth was the war against the Khwarez horse lords had brought little profit to the extending Empire of India, and now our alliance with the Ghorids had come to a crashing end under the excuse of a failed assassination attempt against one of their merchants. The borders of the Ghorid Sultanate were entirely enrounded by our own borders, but our greatest armies were on the wrong side of the Khyber Pass. If the Ghorids were serious about this war, if they struck quickly, many native Indian provinces would fall before an effective defense could be mustered.
Of course during this potential Ghorid war the Mongols would not be waiting peacefully in the distance. They would advance against our newly conquered lands, taking advantage of the chaos and the unruly populaces. Greater India could be cut in half, or worse.
Arjunavarman is not known as the Cunning for nothing, however, and he hit upon a strikingly simple solution; repay the Ghorids for their lost merchant with some of our new lands, especially those most likley to be hit by the Mongols, and a princely sum of coin in exchange for them agreeing to serve as our vassals. The Ghorid Sultanate had heard naught but rumors of the Mongols, and two of the cities on our northern border most exposed to the Mongols were rich and well protected by bridges and mountains. It would make for a tempting offer, especially as their only other option was to proceed with this war against a formerly trusted ally which also happened to be the largest nation in the known world.
So it was agreed. Samarqand and Termez, in the north, and a distant castle and city to the west, bordering the Seljuks, would be transferred to the control of the Ghorid Sultan, who would then bend knee and declare his nation vassals of the Rajput Empire. A large sum of gold would also change hands, but a condition of the vassalage agreement would see more wealth flowing back to India from the Ghorid lands in later years.
The Mongols struck like lightning, stealing across the bridges west of Samarqand before the Ghorids could move to hold them, and the city of Samarqand withstood only a brief siege before being brutally exterminated by the Mongol Khan.
Not a single defender escaped the city, and few of the peasantry remained alive there. The Rajput armies withdrew to the bridge north of Balkh, and to the west laid siege to the former Khwarez soldiers who administered Barukh as rebels. The Mongols departed Samarqand, leaving no garrison, effectively surrendering the city to rebels.
Cleverly the Maharaja commanded a Rajput army march ahead of them into the hills along the lone passable road to Termez, holding high passes with weak and fractious Muslim conscipts whose destruction would mean little, but whose position might allow them to inflict vast losses against any Mongol attack. An army was also sent to attempt to reclaim Samarqand, behind the Horde.
The Mongol leaders were not fools, however, and seeing the high passes held they sought a path through the forests to reach Termez. When none could be found the Mongols turned back west and descended to the plain between Samarqand and Balkh.
Finding themselves beset by Rajput armies on all sides, they struck south, attempting to take the bridge north of Balkh, where they were turned back by the Maharaja himself and his personal guards in the year 1222. After their defeat near Balkh they struck north, where Rajput forces were thinner, and forced a bridge west of the recently reclaimed Samarqand.
Gradually the Mongols fought their way to the walls of the recently taken city of Bukhara as the Maharaja reclaimed bridges behind them. There in the year 1226, they laid siege. The assault would not be long in coming.
Last edited by TosaInu; 02-26-2008 at 16:57.
Send in the Elephants
By Ramses II CP
Part 2
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:1222, North of Balkh
Maharaja Arjunavar the Cunning surveyed his soldiers with an experienced eye on the night of the battle. Dawn was not far off, and the light was adequate despite a low hanging morning mist. Hundreds of veteran spearmen, well armed and armoured, had been drilled in maintaining the tight formations necessary to hold back the Mongol cavalry at the bridgehead. Valiant Kshatriya warriors backed the center-right to shore up morale where fighting was expected to be the heaviest, while Ghandara axemen hefted their wide bladed polearms behind the far right flank of the spearmen. On the left a lighter company of Indian swordsmen held their ground as a final infantry reserve.
Fighting was expected to be heavier on the right because most of the archers were concentrated on the left, where the higher river bank gave them better visibility. No matter how valorous the enemy, they would shy from the brute force of a wall of arrows pouring down on their right. Also the Maharaja had erected his personal banner on his right, and he suspected the Mongols, unused to defeat, would strike directly for the head of the army they faced in an effort to cause panic and disarray among the Rajput forces.
This was all to the good, for also standing on the center right with the Maharaja were three companies of experienced elephant javelineers. The heavy javelins with their narrow, jagged heads would penetrate even the thick armor of the Mongol heavy cavalry, while the elephants themselves wrought havoc among the enemy infantry and cavalry alike. This was not a battle the Maharaja believed he could lose, yet still he had commanded one of his noblemen to take up a reinforcing position not too far to the rear. It didn't pay to be overconfident, especially not in the face of as great a despoiling army as the Mongol Horde.
As expected, the small initial army under the Mongol Prince raced across the bridge at a full charge, shrugging off the storm of arrows which destroyed their slower infantry companies and picked off the lightly armored horse archers. By the time the Khanzada and his guardsmen struck the wall of spears most of the rest of his army had been killed or driven off already. Still, the mighty heavy cavalry came on, striking the massed spearmen like a boulder rolling downhill.
The fighting was vicious, as the packed Indian spearmen struggled to bring their weapons to bear with enough force to penetrate the heavy Mongol armor, while the superb Mongol horsemen drove their horses deeper and deeper into the formation, crushing heads with each swing of the mace, and killing five Indians for each Mongol who was drug from his horse and spitted against the ground. Eventually the Mongols penetrated the formation so deeply that they had nearly reached the Kshatriya warriors. The Maharaja reached for his horn to order his heavy infantry into battle, but was reluctant to risk tiring them so early in the battle. This army was but a quarter of the size of the one yet to come!
In the end, with half of his bodyguard company lost and all of the rest of his men dead or in flight, the Mongol Prince made the only logical decision and withdrew.
After only a moment's hesitation the Maharaja commanded his most trusted company of elephant javelineers to give pursuit, despite the annoyance it would cause the spearmen. They departed with orders to return before the second Mongol army could arrive.
Alas, not only did the Khanzada withdraw too quickly to ever be engaged by the elephants, the army of the Mongol general Tolui came forward out of the mist at such a pace that the Maharaja's javelineers could not withdraw. Though only a few Mongols were yet positioned on the bridge, the risk of breaking open the Indian spear formations to allow the passage of the elephants was too great. Arjunavar ordered the javelineers to turn about and assault the head of the Mongol column, knowing that none of his men will survive such an attack.
A storm of arrows lashed out from the Indian army, flying past their desperately struggling elephant allies, but this time that storm was answered by an equal volume of arrows hurtling in the other direction. Many of the Maharaja's archers and spearmen were felled, but the enemy feared to fire any full volleys at the elephants heading off their column. As the javelineers pressed in close, hurling their heavy bolts from on high and guiding their elephants to crush the Mongols both ahorse and on foot, the enemy responded with panic and disarray. Some of their mighty heavy lancers, driven mad by the approach of the elephants, leapt over the bridge railing to certain death in the chill waters below.
One by one, though, the elephants fell. They took many of their fearsome foes with them, and even in death they would crush the life from dozens of the densely packed Mongols, but it was not enough. At last Tolui came forward with his personal guard, and by sheer force of will restored a certain measure of order to the army of the Horde attempting to force the bridge. His men brought their lances to bear on our mighty elephants, even in such close quarters.
When one of the last three Rajput elephants on the bridge took a mortal wound from Tolui's standard bearer the Mongols began to advance up the bridge around the two still fighting, directly into the massed fire of the Maharaja's archer corp. Once surrounded on all sides, the two remaining elephants lost their advantage, and were felled quickly. Though their corpses would choke the bridge, the enemy pressed ahead with their assault.
Heedless of their losses, ignoring the massed spears of the Rajput who held the bridgehead, the heavy lancers struck like a hammer. Tolui himself was in the third wave, and the Indian spearmen were sorely pressed. Inch by bloody inch the spears of the Maharaja gave ground, surrendering the region around the mouth of the bridge to the heavily armored horsemen.
Seeing this Maharaja Arjunavar the Cunning blew his horn, and sent in his heavy infantry. The spearmen tried to make room for the axe and sword weilding men behind them to come to grips with the Mongols, but really the scene at the front was one of barely contained chaos. Only the sight of the Eagle banner of the Kshatriya warriors kept the men's fighting spirit high, as the Maharaja himself was forced to withdraw somewhat when two of the elephants of his personal guard were assailed by heavy archer fire.
Despite Tolui's presence at the front, however, the enemy's spirit was starting to slack. Their heavy lancers no longer pressed the attack with the same vigor, and many of them attempted to ride along in front of the reinforced spear line rather than push in to penetrate it. Behind them the greater numbers of the Indian archers had begun to tell, and the Mongol Horse archers and foot had been greatly reduced. Seeing this, Tolui led his guards on one last attack against the right side of the spear formation, which might have been slightly thinner, while the Maharaja was still moving to the rear.
Reaching higher ground the Maharaja turned back to view the battle. Peering through the mists he was shocked to discover that three Mongol Heavy Lancers had completely penetrated his spear line and might even be able to reach a position behind the center of the spearmen. The men of the Maharaja's guard were mighty and steadfast, but the appearance of an enemy to your rear would give doubt to even great armies out of legend.
Maharaja Arjunavar the Cunning screamed an order to his remaining javelineers, 'Send in the Elephants!'
Losses among the Indian spearmen to the elephant's charge were substantial, as the enemy was so deeply intermixed as to prevent any of the niceties of more open field combat, but the effect on the Mongols was instantaneous. Their front ranks crumpled and fled while general Tolui himself sounded the retreat. The path of the elephant's advance was littered with the smashed corpses of Mongol horsemen, and no few Rajput spearmen as well.
Storming across the river the javelineers overtook an isolated company of Mongol foot who had attempted to flee in the wrong direction, encircled them, and crushed them like ants.
Tales of the battle on the streets of Balkh would call it an heroic victory, but those who fought that day knew how close the Maharaja had come to disaster, and would never forget the tone of near panic with which he had uttered the words that decided the battle. Send in the Elephants.
Send In the Elephants
By Ramses II CP
Part 3
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:1226, Bukhara
A visitor to the city of Bukhara might find the calm silence of the streets strange, considering the circumstances. Over eight thousand Mongol soldiers encircled the walls, with several more armies in range to reinforce them should the first wave's assault somehow fail. Their defenders were fewer than two thousand poorly trained Muslim conscripts and militiamen, led by two generals from the city's most recent conquerors, the Rajputs. Ahh, but there was the note to explain the odd complacency one could sense on the ground; the city's most recent conquerors were the fourth such to hold that title in less than ten years. Not so long ago the Ghazni had come, driving away the Kwarezmshah from Bukhara, and had admistered the city for a few short years until a war with the Rajputs on the other side of the Ghazni lands had drawn their defenders away, and the Kwarezmshah had returned and retaken Bukhara. Soon the Rajput tide lapped into Kwarez lands, and the leaders of the Kwarezmshah were hunted like goats across the plains. When the last Kwarez general fell to an assassin's blade, an ambitious former captain took control of the city and demanded taxes of the people. A year later the Rajputs arrived, slaughtered the rebel garrison, and took their place as overlords of Bukhara.
Now, just a few years after they arrived, the Rajputs themselves were in grave danger of being expelled, but to the citizens of Bukhara it was very nearly business as usual. All those who had relatives or family distant from the conflict had already left and the remaining young women of Bukhara knew how to disguise themselves and where they might hide if the besiegers broke into the city. The oldsters had become good friends with death, that ever faithful companion who had swallowed up so many of their fellow citizens. Indeed, the people of Bukhara sat waiting and watching patiently, certain that they had already seen and weathered the worst Allah could bring the bear.
They were wrong.
Apara of Malwa understood very well why he had been placed in command of Bukhara. He was expendable. His loyalty was questionable, his reputation was that of an underhanded alcoholic, and he found the essential business of overseeing the collection of taxes an intolerable bore. His companion in the city, Mahlakadeva of Mewar, had never even led men in the field, and was best known for his debauched parties. In short, Arjunavar the Cunning was using the two men to draw more of his nobles out of India to serve, either family members to avenge Apara and Mahlakadeva in the event of their loss, or young nobles desperate to make a name for themselves struggling to emulate their supposed heroism in the event of their victory in defense of Bukhara.
At the moment, the latter outcome struck Apara as incredibly unlikely. He was deep in his cups and feeling maudlin about his lot in life. Mahlakadeva, not yet drunk but well on his way, had been arguing all evening that there must be some way to hold the walls, and shooting down the inexperienced commander time and again had crushed what little courage and hope the liqour could build up in Apara. Now, at the utter nadir of his belief in victory, and suffering from the aching need to vomit, Apara was suddenly aware of the deep reverberation of mighty Mongol horns outside the walls. Staggering to his feet, he waved a hand at Mahlakadeva and mumbled 'Get'em ready, mungrels ish attacking. An' bring me a bucket!'
Runners were sent rapidly to wake the garrison troops, and in some disarray they arranged themselves on the walls, javelin throwers intermixed with archers all along the north wall where the enemy had concentrated his siege engines. A short company of Kshatriya warriors, the sole heavy infantry in the city, held the gates. At the square Apara and Mahlakadeva were struggling to get their elephants in a battle formation.
Initially the defense went well. The Mongols attempting to scale ladders died in droves under a shower of javelins. One of the Mongol siege towers lit the night sky with an inferno from the profusion of fire arrows.
With the ram approaching the walls Mahlakdeva was first to arrive at the gate. He immediately ordered all present cavalry to sally out and find room to ride. The horsemen poured forth from the gates, overwhelming the first company of Mongol infantry at their ram. The massed fire of hundreds of enemy archers inflicted horrific losses amidst the mercenary cavalry, but the Mongols abandoned their first attempt to bring a ram to bear on the gates and the remaining Rajput horsemen were able to withdraw.
As the battles on the walls intensified Apara finally reached the area of the gates. Seeing the cavalry attempting to return to the safety of the walls he noted through the open gate that the enemy were bringing up another ram, and ordered the mercenaries to sally again. Despite an overwhelming volume of fire from the Mongols they were able to drive off a second company of Mongols and force them to abandon their last ram in the open ground before the gates.
Unfortunately for the few surviving mercenaries Apara, noting that the Mongol siege tower had lowered it's ramp, ordered the gates barred shut. None of the Rajput hirelings would return. To the right of the gate the javelin infantry was holding it's own against the onrushing horde, but this was still just the first wave.
To the left of the gates the Mongols scaling the ladders were making better headway, having cleared a section of the walls to allow their men to make the transition from ladder to rampart in relative safety. Apara commanded the Kshatriya warriors up onto the left wall to halt the advance of the Horde and prevent them from capturing the gatehouse.
The news only got worse, as the second and third wave of reinforcements reached the walls around the gatehouse, and began to scale the ladders as well. Hundreds of Mongol infantry swarmed near the ladders, almost under the effective arc within which the archers could fire their arrows. It was a scene of incredible chaos, as the Mongol archers fired their arrows in steep arcs while the Rajput archers were forced to lean dangerously over the wall to attempt a direct shot.
Sheer numbers were wearing away Apara's army. Half his archers had fallen, and two heavily abused companies of javelineers had fled for the square already. The Kshatriya warriors were holding their ground against the primary Mongol push left of the gates, but seventy men could only hold back several hundred for so long. Apara, an experienced commander of men, could see that this was the crisis point. One of the armies would break, and it would be soon. Either dispair would overtake the Mongols or the Rajputs, and there was only one thing Apara could do to influence the course of the matter. It was time to sally his personal guard and push forward the elephants into the maelstrom. Shouting to get Mahlakadeva's attention, Apara attempted to win a little courage for his men by repeating his Maharaja's successful battle cry, 'Send in the elephants!'
Apara himself was one of the first out of the gates. He attempted to direct his men to make their charge on the left, and most of them responded, but the scene was one of unutterable chaos. He had underestimated the Mongol's numbers. They had thousands of men waiting to climb the ladders, and hundreds more using the siege tower on the other side. The Rajput's main hope, that their archers could inflict sufficient losses to drive away the remainder, had failed due to the incredible volume of fire the enemy had lofted in response. Almost all of Apara's archers were dead now, and his javelin men were on the verge of breaking. Only the valiant Kshatriya warriors still gamely fought to hold the gatehouse.
Now, here in view of the madness of the battle, Apara knew the full measure of despair. Turning to look back he attempted to order Mahlakadeva back into the city, to organize some final defense of the square, but it was too late. The eager young fool had ridden out standing tall and proud, and was already dead. His arrow ridden corpse dangled over the side of his personal elephant, which looked half crazed with it's own bristle of arrows protruding from thick, gray skin. Glancing back in the direction of his attack, Apara saw the fifth wave of Mongols rounding the corner of the city walls, and at last knew the number of his days. Even so, with the knowledge of his own certain death strong in him, he fought his war beast as best he was able, crushing and rending the flesh of the tightly packed Horde beneath him until at last his elephant collapsed and threw him to his death.
With the fall of their commander's banner, and the death of his elephants true panic now struck the ranks, and such few men as still defended the walls fled in fear, except the remaining Kshatriya warriors. They would stand there on the left and fight to the last man, but to no avail. Mongol infantry from the right side captured the gates and threw them open, allowing the enemy cavalry into the city. Few men from the walls escaped to see the desperate last stand at the square.
When the sun began to rise over Bukhara that day the last living Rajput soldier in the city was surrounded and made to watch as the Mongols carried out a merciless plan of extermination in the streets. Working in haste but with great effeciency the Mongol soldiers moved from house to house, dragging out every peasant they could find and putting them to the sword. Less than an hour later the enemy would depart, leaving Bukhara to the dead and dying, but also leaving that lone soldier to carry the tale.
It was a dark day for the Rajput empire. The greatest defeat in the history of the nation. Two nobles and an entire city lost, over two thousand men gone into their graves, and countless peasants piled in the streets of Bukhara to show our people the price of defiance. The Maharaja commanded that another army move in to restore order, and Bukhara became once more a part of the empire, but it was changed beyond recognition. Those few locals who survived the rapacious conquest swore that they would never again rest complacent at the thought of just another battle.
The Mongols themselves rode away back east to trouble the central plains with more battles. They would never again lay siege to a city, Some guessed that the losses inflicted on the Horde at Bukhara had changed the enemy almost as much as it changed the city. Others simply pointed out that the Mongol invasion was never primarily about territory, it was about dominance. If the Maharaja didn't bend knee after the butchery of Bukhara then what purpose would further sieges serve? Either the Khan would break the Maharaja's armies, or he would withdraw in defeat, and for a time following Bukhara it appeared that the Rajputs might be forced to accept nominal Mongol control of their people as the enemy won victory after victory, and killed Indian noble after noble. Only when the Rajput forces outnumbered the enemy could they claim victory, and it was ever costly even so.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Then came the year 1231, the year of the elephant.
Send in the Elephants
By Ramses II CP
Part 4
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:1231, North of Bukhara
The Elephants Arrive.
After their victory at Bukhara the Mongols marched east and met the army of the Maharaja at a bridge to the northeast of that city. There they threw back many costly assaults by poorly trained Rajput armies desperate to redeem their recent losses, but declined to attempt to force a crossing. Instead they marched further north, towards Samarqand and the more weakly held bridge there.
Scouting Samarqand and the bridge to it's west they found armies overwhelmingly staffed with immense numbers of archers. They could certainly have crossed this bridge, despite the ongoing attacks from Rajput mercenaries and militia soldiers, but then they would have been facing another potentially costly siege against a well entrenched foe and a sea of archers. For two years the Horde held together there in the central plain, turning back every attack with dramatic losses, but gradually being whittled away.
In the third year they marched back south towards Bukhara, but this time the Maharaja was ready for them. He had gathered a massive army of elephants, javelineers and archers, and placed them under a fresh general who was desperate to prove himself and save the city. Surely never before had so many elephants been seen in one place outside of India itself, and this was no wild herd. These were well trained and highly motivated war beasts under the direction of stalwart veterans of the wars against the Muslims. Unflinchingly they advanced directly into the heart of the Mongol formation, facing the combined might of over five thousand of the enemy.
Tribuvanpal calmly drew up his forces in a long line, stretching across the gently sloping desert sands. He detailed several companies of javelineers to hold his left flank against an advancing Mongol army there, and sounded a general advance to meet the army of Jebe which lay before him. Normal Indian tactics called for the elephants to hold back and fire their missiles until the opponent was forced to commit himself fully against the Indian infantry, but on this day there would be no infantry.
On the left the javelineers struck the first blow, charging downhill against a disorganized foe who had been riding hard in the hopes of turning the Rajput flank. The carnage among the lead heavy lancers was very great.
In the center it was much the same, as Jebe sent his heavy lancers into battle against the massed elephant assault. Whatever panic the Mongols might have felt in their first battle against the elephants of the Maharaja at that bridge so many years ago they had now learned to control. The hated foe fought with great courage, never shrinking from the great gray bulk of the war beasts.
Tribuvanpal attempted to keep order in his lines by bringing multiple elephant companies to bear against each forward element of Jebe's command while sending the more experienced companies deeper into the enemy formation to disrupt it. This met with great success against the Mongol cavalry as company after company of heavy lancers was felled to a man, but losses inevitably began to mount among the more isolated elephants at the front. Still they held their discipline and slaughtered many men for each that fell.
On the left the main body of the Mongol reinforcements had been surrounded by elephants who were rapidly whittling away the brutal heavy lancers. None of these men would make it to the main engagement to disrupt the battle there, which preserved morale and prevented any massed attack against Tribuvanpal's flank.
As the attack against Jebe's force continued the first small group of enemy reinforcements arrived to his rear and began to shower arrows down against any elephants not heavily engaged in melee with the Mongols. There was no Rajput reserve remaining to commit against them, so their stings and our losses must be borne. The fourth and final reinforcing army was still organizing in the distance, trying to determine if they should aid Jebe first or his other reinforcements.
Back on the left the heavy lancers had been all but eliminated, and the elephants began to roll up the Mongol flank towards their massed infantry. If nothing else the loss of so many mighty horse warriors and their highly trained mounts would make this day a strategic victory. Tribuvanpal's army was starting to tire from the continuous fighting, but there could be no retreat yet.
The first company of elephants to reach the Mongol infantry on the left tore gaping holes in their formations, and butchered many hundreds of them while the Mongol Khan and his guardsmen fought desperately to hold back many more eager elephants. Though the Rajput men were growing weary they still inflicted great losses on the enemy.
Alas, at the central engagement the tide was starting to turn. The first elements of the fourth Mongol army (Seen to the left in the following screenshot) had arrived and added their arrows to the already high volume of fire directed at the Indian army. Two companies of elephants, including those of the secondary commander, Vakpati Jhala, went mad with fear and ran amok. Many of the rest were at half strength and struggling to continue fighting.
To the left the javelineers had completed their charge through the entire Mongol infantry formation, and hurled the last of their missiles against the enemy's heavy horse archers. Truly the sands ran red with the blood of the enemy on this day! Still, it was not enough.
The center of the Rajput line began to collapse under the weight of the fresh men of the fourth wave of Mongols. Vakpati Jhala and his guardsmen were all killed, and almost all of the elephants at the center were in flight or running amok. There was little for Tribuvanpal to do but sound the withdrawal and attempt to salvage what he could. Obviously the enemy had suffered horrific losses even in victory, and though they might be in possession of the field at the end of the day the price they paid was far higher than the worth of this patch of desert.
Retreating back into the deep sands Tribuvanpal paused to review the battlefield one last time. Around every elephant's corpse could be seen the scattered remains of a dozen or more dead Mongols. The advance of Ogodei's fresh force had swept the Rajput resistance aside, but the terrible cost and the fact that Tribuvanpal's own reinforcements were many times nearer than the enemy's would turn this tactical defeat into a mighty strategic victory.
Following this 'defeat' the garrison commander of Bukhara, anxious to avert another siege, departed the city and assailed the Mongols in the field with his men. Though the numbers were almost equal and the Mongols had just fought a terrible battle against Tribuvanpal which killed most of their heavy lancers they had no trouble sweeping the militia soldiers and crudely armed spearmen aside.
Siyaka Suryavanshi's men met a vengeful enemy, and were crushed as the Mongols returned the favor for their staggering losses in the previous battle. The Maharaja, angry at Siyaka's failure, called upon all the cavalry mercenaries in the Bukhara region to ride out and inflict more losses on the Mongols to emphasize the futility of their making a second attempt against the city.
Captain Lakshmanadeva made a good attempt and did inflict substantial losses on the soldiers remaining under Jebe, but he then found himself unable to withdraw or bring down the enemy general in battle, and took many losses of his own. The Maharaja was heard to remark that at least a dead mercenary had already taken his last coin.
After these battles the Maharaja drew on the depth of his forces in the region and fully reinforced Bukhara with hundreds of archers and several more companies of heavy infantry. The Mongols scouted the city closely... and marched away east, over the unheld bridge near Samarqand and all the way south to the bridge north of Balkh, where they would fall completely into the final trap of Maharaja Arjunavar the Cunning.
Send In the Elephants
By Ramses II CP
Part 5
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:1231, North of Balkh
After the catastrophic victory in which they lost three thousand veteran warrios the Mongol Horde could have chosen to retreat, to return to their homes and gather their forces for another attempt, but ultimately this too would have played directly into the Maharaja's plans. If the Rajput Empire were given the time to consolidate their holdings and fortify the Hindu Kush there could never be a final Mongol victory. So, battered, bruised, bloodied, and yet strangely triumphant the Mongols departed the deserts north of Bukhara and struck east, crossing the bridges west of Samarqand and force marching their men all the way across the unguarded bridge north of Balkh. That city was a tempting target, with a small garrison at the time of their march and the majority of the Rajput armies still concentrated to the west.
What the Mongol Lords could not know is the awesome wealth of India, which had allowed the Maharaja to continue training soldiers at his premier facilities in the east. Those men, having made the difficult trek through the mountainous Ghorid lands, were now in range to reinforce the Balkh region, joined by the usual Muslim conscripts and large numbers of local mercenaries. Balkh had appeared to be a weak point in the Rajput line, but it was merely bait in a trap. As soon as the Mongols wearied and made camp, just a short distance north of the city, the Maharaja cut orders for every man at arms nearby to march as rapidly as possible towards Balkh, and then he led his personal troops across the bridge behind the Mongols, sealing them in a pocket.
Three of his most experienced armies were unable to force their men near enough to strike, but thousands of others, including many fresh companies out of India, moved into position to pin the remaining Mongols using the curve of the river. The Mongol Horde had been surrounded by the Rajput Horde. Now was the time for the mother of all battles, for after the fall of the Mongols the Maharaja saw little chance that his other enemies would be able to stay his hand.
Coordination of so many men would be difficult, so the Maharaja arranged matters to allow for several different advances against the enemy. First one of his least experienced commanders, Tukaji Ranawat and his mentor and close friend Tukaji Minhas would assault the very head of the Mongol column. Tukaji Ranawat, who had seen training engagements against rebels but never a major field battle, would also be able to call on selected reinforcements from a smaller army nearby, but they would not advance onto the field without his command. (I had to give the AI a good commander and the best troops because even though it's improved in BC, it's still not very good at fighting.)
General Ranawat's men were mostly of decent quality, though his archers were a mixed bunch, but short on cavalry, while General Minhas commanded a modest quantity of cavalry and many elephants. It was planned as a classic engagement, with Ranawat's army acting as the anvil to Minhas' hammer. The enemy would approach from the northeast while Ranawat's reinforcements came in from the west.
First the general would have to deal with the indomitable guardsmen of the Mongol with the smallest command, Jebe. Ranawat dispatched his most decorated company of elephant archers to engage Jebe's men and pin them in place, to prevent the fast moving heavy cavalry from attempting to flank his infantry.
Jebe fought like a mad beast, even drawing the attention of Minhas' flanking force as it arrived on the field. General Ranawat, uncertain of how best to respond, stood his ground and awaited the expected assault from the Horde.
The remarkable resistance of Jebe's men delayed the advance of Minhas' flanking force and drew the small army of Kubeke to reinforce Jebe. Already the enemy had put a kink in the plan, but the cautious and inexperienced Ranawat ordered his men to keep their discipline and hold their ground. At long last one of the elephant javelineers from Minhas' command was able to strike Jebe a firm blow and knock him out of his saddle. Immediately an elephant from the archer corp Ranawat had sent out originally crushed the life from that mighty Mongol lord. (Screenshot was ugly, mostly the inside of an elephant. S'one of the problems with the Rajputs.)
Now the guardsmen of Kubeke and his small army were all that stood in the way of the advance of Minhas' men. They would have to be swept aside quickly, as the full strength army of Subutai the Tyrant was closing quickly on Ranawat's position with Khanzada Guyuk's quarter size force in support. The pivotal moment of the battle was near.
In the center Subutai was attempting to deploy his men to screen his right against the inevitable advance of Mindhas while still pushing forward his center against Ranawat's smaller army. Khanzada Guyuk was thus first to arrive, and his smashing charge against the center right of the Rajput line nearly annihilated an entire company of Bharat spearmen. Ranawat, on the left of his formation, commanded companies of Kshatriya warriors and Ghandara axemen to reinforce the line.
Moments passed as the massed ranks of archers drew their bows to fire at Subutai's advancing men while watching nervously the nearby assault of Guyuk and his guardsmen. If the line should fail those heavy lancers would carve a bloody path through the archers without hesitation, and the daggers of the lightly armed men would not be able to defend them. Back on the flank Minhas' personal guardsmen finally drug down the mighty Kubeke, freeing his massed elephants to advance at last.
Subutai knew he was in for a bloody struggle now, but he could not abandon Prince Guyuk to fight alone. Before turning his army to meet the hammer of Minhas he dispatched two companies of heavy lancers to try Ranawat's line and reinforce Guyuk. Ranawat was watching alertly for the attack of Subutai, and so he immediately ordered his remaining heavy infantry companies to reinforce the right side of his line against Guyuk and the heavy lancers. The line guarding the archers would now be quite thin, but all of the Mongol heavy cavalry had been committed to battle.
Just as he felt the situation on his right was starting to edge in his favor Ranawat got word of a disaster amongst the flankers, as Tukaji Minhas's elephant was felled by the guardsmen of Subutai the Tyrant. The veteran commander of the Rajput hammer had fallen and the flankers were in serious danger of being overwhelmed. Ranawat himself rode out to take command of their battle, seething with excitement, worry, and desperate hope. His first significant battle, and now he was in overall command of thousands of Rajput warriors engaged in a vicious struggle with a mighty foe.
His first action was to bring Minhas' cavalry around to screen his archers so that he could commit his remaining spearmen to the struggle against Kubeke and the heavy lancers. Guyuk's guardsmen were clearly tiring, and though the Indian archers would be unguarded Ranawat believed that battle must be won right now, or it would slip away. Ranawat's lone fresh company of elephants was also detailed to clear away the small remaining infantry force of Guyuk.
Arriving on the left Ranawat found that Minhas had fought a good battle against signficant odds, and now the Mongol's heavy lancers and heavy horse archers had been cleared away almost entirely. Subutai the Tyrant had rallied a dozen of those valiant men to his side, but he was having great difficulty keeping order now that elephants had penetrated his lines on all sides and were taking a terrible toll amongst his foot soldiers. The Indian general organized several heavily embattled companies of elephants into a flanking force to push through Subutai's small remaining cavalry force and deep into his infantry.
When a dozen elephants crashed through his line and charged into his infantry, Subutai realized the day was lost. None of his guardsmen remained to aid him, so when he turned to retreat the dam burst and the tide of remaining elephants crashed against his foot soldiers, who could not stand against them. Subutai the Tyrant himself was shot in the back as he attempted to withdraw, and felled by a simple arrow after having fought through countless close engagements with the massed war beasts of Minhas' army.
Across the field Khanzada Guyuk struggled to extricate himself from the Rajput infantry surrounding him. He had seen the fall of the banner of Subutai and knew with fair certainty that he was now the sole remaining Mongol general. It was less important to slaughter the hundreds of archers he had nearly carved a path to than to oversee the withdrawal of Subutai's remaining army so that they could fight again another day. Beset by elephants and Rajput cavalry on all sides, the Mongol foot soldiers were having a difficult time keeping order during their retreat. It was on the verge of becoming a rout.
Worse yet for the Mongols, Guyuk's attempt to guide the remaining infantry was cut off by a company of Minhas' Kshatriya elephants, and Guyuk's few remaining men were forced to fight for their lives once again.
Minutes passed as Guyuk's men struggled to cut a path out for him, but in the end they proved too few to deny the elephants their bloody revenge for the death of Minhas. Khanzada Guyuk, heir to the Horde, was brutally gored in the chest, and his corpse tossed into the air by an enraged war beast. Of the four mighty Mongol generals who had been brought to battle on this day not one would escape.
As the Rajput Horde harried the fleeing enemy army off the field that day they left behind a carpet of large, dark dots against the sand like elephant droppings in the desert. Screaming challenges and insults Ranawat and his guardsmen triumphantly rode among the broken Mongol infantry, scattering them and slaughtering those who could not flee.
It was another stunningly destructive battle, but this time the Mongols were driven back in defeat, and possession of the field went to the Rajput army. Reviewing reports after the battle Ranawat realized that though it had seemed to be a great battle and an amazing victory pulled off by his valiant troops, in fact the flanking force had done most of the heavy lifting and absorbed fifty percent losses in so doing, including the death of his great friend and teacher General Minhas. Elephants and cavalry had accounted for the overwhelming majority of Mongol casualties, while Ranawat's spearmen and heavy infantry accounted for over half of the Rajput losses. Three hundred Mongol prisoners would be offered for ransom, but the offer was refused.
Next the Maharaja sought to weaken and weary the largest remaining Mongol army under the command of Ogodei by sending an army of conscripts and javelin militia against it.
It was a mistake.
The best that could be said was that running down so many of Captain Vakpatiraja's cowardly soldiers must have dulled the blades of the enemy and cost them a great quantity of whetstones. The prisoners were executed by the Mongols. (I think that's the single worst defeat I have ever suffered playing a Total War game. Javelins just aren't very effective against mongol heavy lancers and Khan's guard.)
...
After that debacle Arjunavar of Mewar, an experienced Rajput general who had fought the Mongols before, was given leave to bring his army of mercenaries and conscripts into the field against Ogodei's men. His instructions were to attempt to hold the line long enough to bleed the enemy of his remaining cavalry, and then to fall back and let better equipped men complete the assault.
Arjunavar was forced to deploy in great haste as the Mongol Khan was entering the field very near his position. Almost immediately after his spearmen set their lines, before his archers could reach their position and draw their bows, the Khan charged.
Arrows and javelins poured out of the Rajput formation and into the Khan's guard, but their armor was incredible and few of them fell. Anxiously Arjunavar watched for the approaching banners of Ogodei, and urged his spearmen and javelineers to great efforts. Still the Khan advanced, crushing all resistance before him, and finally Arjunavar led his personal guard around his formation to come to grips with the Khan from behind.
Khan Jochi withdrew, having slaughtered nearly two hundred of Arjunavar's soldiers. Enraged the Rajput general pursued him, but was struck down by an errant arrow launched by one of his own men. His shocked guardsmen lost control of their elephants, and those beasts ran amok amidst the Mongol Khan's army.
It was a terrible moment to see the death of their general, as the still mighty army of Ogodei was just cresting the hills northeast of Arjunavar's men. When Ogodei personally led the charge of his remaining heavy lancers, it was too much for the battered mercenary spearmen. They broke and attempted to flee before the charge even fully struck home.
Having turned the flank of our spear line Ogodei and his guardsmen then rolled up the rest of the diminished line, while he ordered his other company of heavy lancers to ride into the massed Rajput archer formation. The leaderless Indian army had no response for these canny acts, and simply attempted to stand their ground and inflict as many losses on the enemy as possible.
One company of stalwart men singlehandedly prevented the wholesale rout of Arjunavar's army, as some veteran Dayalami javelineers, knowing that to flee in the face of cavalry was certain death, stood firm against Ogodei and forced him to call his heavy lancers away from the Rajput archers. Those men fought desperately for a few more minutes before being drug down and killed to a man, which gave the archers several more volleys to damage Ogodei's infantry.
In the end it made little difference, however, as two thousand Indians would give their lives against less than a quarter those losses among the Mongols. Arjunavar of Mewar's corpse was never found, and his few remaining men fled in abject terror.
The next day a messenger at the head of a column of wagons from the Mongol's ever shrinking supply train delivered the grim news to the Maharaja that Khan Jochi had ordered the nearly seven hundred Rajput soldiers he had captured to be put to the sword. Within the wagons were the heads of those men, piled high and reeking of death.
Shaking with rage the Maharaja swore a terrible oath that no Mongol who ever set foot in Rajput lands would be allowed to depart with his head. Then, though he knew he was being manipulated, he called Tukaji Ranawat to his side to ask if he wanted vengeance for the death of his mentor. It was a question that could have only one answer.
Maharaja Arjunavar the Cunning brought together every willing man with the strength left in his legs to march and in his arm to fight, and placed them under General Ranawat with only one order; crush the Mongols, break their armies, and drive their leaders from the field.
(continued, and completed, soon)
Send in the Elephants
By Ramses II CP
Part 6
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:1231, North of Balkh
The little known Rajput general Tukaji Ranawat stood before the men of his new command and thought deeply about the speech he must give. Since his costly victory just a few miles further south along this road there had been a pair of staggering defeats for the Rajput army. The men were not fully aware of just how badly those engagements had gone, but as a Kshatriya noble Tukaji was trusted with the knowledge and expected to have the fortitude to deal with it. In the words of the Maharaja himself Captain Vakpatiraja had done little but the dull enemy's swords with his men's lives, two thousand of them, and some six hundred had surrendered only to be brutally executed under the burning sun.
After that escapade Arjunavarman of Mewar, one of the Maharaja's most successful and favored generals, had led an expensive and well equipped mercenary army into the field, which the Mongols had proceeded to massacre. Arjunavarman of Mewar himself was dead, his body unidentifiable amidst the scattered bits of men remaining in the field. The only good news out of that mess was that the Mongol Prince Tolui had succumbed to his wounds after the battle, leaving only two Mongol generals still in the field. Khan Jochi, in command of the lesser force, and Khanzada Ogodei, at the head of a three quarters complete Mongol army. All told the enemy would field fewer troops than Tukaji, and yet their remaining men were merciless veterans of dozens of battles. They had faced elephants, arrows, spears, swords, and every manner of lance and javelin and survived despite it. They were the hard inner core of the Mongol Horde. They would not be broken easily.
Yet to break them was the very task the Maharaja had entrusted to Tukaji. To break the Mongols, or to bleed out his own life in the effort. There could be no more retreats, no more tactical withdrawals. Maharaja Arjunavar the Cunning had sworn an oath to see his enemies driven ceaselessly to their deaths, and General Ranawat was his instrument in the completion of this oath.
Shaking his head gently to clear such dark thoughts Tukaji raised his eyes at last, and under his sharp gaze the soldiers stiffened and stood erect. Pausing for only a moment to let his face fill with anger, General Ranawat said simply, 'Victory or death!'
'Victory or death!' his men roared back at him with one voice, 'Victory or death! Victory or death!'
The company leaders had a little trouble getting the men to form up afterward. Tukaji had instructed the infantry to make for a nearby hill and arrange themselves in a standard Indian battle line, with heavy spearmen backed by heavy infantry supported by massed archer fire.
The elephants of Tukaji's command had spotted a small company of Mongol foot archers that were badly out of position and unsupported. They charged immediately.
After crushing those men the foremost elephants moved on out to attack the right flank of the advancing Mongol armies, which was screened by two companies of horse archers. Tukaji, having seen the reports from the survivors on the impact of the Mongol charge against the Arjunavarman of Mewar's mercenary spearmen, had arranged a little suprise for the initial charge of the heavy lancers facing him.
More elephants moved in immediately to blunt the Mongol charges and give the infantry a chance to come to grips with their enemy at close range. In the center and on his right Tukaji's spearmen took few losses to the Mongol charge.
The battle was far from won yet, however, as these were just the remaining soldiers of Khan Jochi. Now the men of Khanzada Ogodei arrived in force, and Tukaji was very glad he had not broken his infantry formations yet. Ogodei's lancers charged to try to support their Khan's attack, but the scattered melee prevented them from bringing the full force of their lances against the Rajput infantry.
Still Tukaji withheld his infantry, commanding them on stiff penalty not to break their formations. Two of the elephant companies became uncontrollable, running amok, and several had to be put to death by their masters. The conflict in front of the Indian infantry line was utterly uncompromising, and attrition took a heavy toll on both sides. Eventually the assault against the right flank of the Rajputs was wiped out, and the few remaining elephants from that side moved to reinforce the center.
Khan Jochi and Khanzada Ogodei combined their guardsmen and managed to carve a path through almost all of General Ranawat's remaining elephants. The general was quite reluctant to expose his archers to the possibility of a charge, so instead he drove his own guardsmen to attack the two Mongol generals.
The battle was one of endurance now. The superior number of Rajput archers had taken a heavy toll on the Mongol foot, and there were fewer than half of them still fighting. Khan Jochi's small army had been entirely wiped out except for his few remaining personal guards. After a long duel with Tukaji's own personal elephant the Mongol Khan, worn out and bloodied, sounded his horn for a retreat. The instant he rode clear of the melee with their commander alert Indian archers directed a massive volley at him, and brought him down.
The battle had worn on, but it was no longer in doubt. Khanzada Ogodei, fearful at seeing his master felled, turned tail and ran from the field. The stalwart Mongol infantry remained to buy time for their general to escape, and were ground away by the overhwhelming volume of fire from the Rajput archers.
Tukaji Ranawat was elated! His valiant soldiers had, at a substantial cost in elephants to be sure, driven the final army of Mongols from the field in utter defeat. They had thrown down the killers of Tukaji Minhas and Arjunavarman of Mewar and vanquished the last great army of the Horde. No longer would men speak of a Mongol invasion, now they would tell stories of the Rajput Invasion!
In the end Ogodei escaped, but the men he took with him could hardly still be called an army.
Riding through the badlands southwest of Balkh Ogodei was hunted like a bandit, always being driven further into the rough country. At last, having been harried for many weeks, Ogodei chose his ground and came to a halt north of Herat.
The garrison commander there, Vallabharaj Jasrotai, got word from the weary hunters who had finally cornered the last Mongol Khan, and so he rode out, hiring on mercenaries as he went, and brought the beast to battle in the shadow of the mountains.
Khan Ogodei must have been weary and desperate after so long a ride, after such a bloody defeat, but he still fought like a demon. Not shrinking in the slightest he spurred his guards to a charge and immediately brought the battle to Vallabharaj Jasrotai's little tested guardsmen.
On that rough hillside Vallabharaj Jasrotai and Khan Ogodei did battle, fighting a personal duel amidst the hundreds of other men on the field while the cavalry mercenaries dealt with Ogodei's remaining infantry. Surely the Khan must have known many moments of terror, but his will to fight was undiminished.
General Jasrotai tried every trick at his disposal, every technique he had learned in battle school with his elephant. The beast took hold of the Khan's horse around it's throat, but the spiked armor saved the war horse from a broken neck.
Next the Rajput commander directed his war beast to kick the Khan from his horse. The Khan was an exceptional horseman, however, and despite suffering a catastrophically broken arm from this attack he held his seat, and kept command of his horse.
Looking around for the first time in many minutes Ogodei came to the realization that all the rest of his command had died, that only a paltry few of his bodyguards still defended him, and that the mercenary cavalry was starting to move back from chasing down routing Mongol foot to cut off the Khan's own retreat. At long last his will broke like his arm, and he made a panic driven attempt to flee the melee. Simple javelin mercenaries drug him down off his horse and held him captive, bringing the last battle of the Mongol War to an end.
Vallabharaj Jasrotai sent word to Maharaja Arjunavar the Cunning asking what was to be done with the prisoners, and the Maharaja sent back a simple note in his own hand stating only, 'Fulfill my oath.'
Two years later wise men of all faiths assessed the Rajput Horde as unstoppable, and destined to form a mighty empire stretching for the far east into Africa and Europe. When any man spoke of resisting the spread of the Empire another nearby would take him aside and say, 'You may fight. You may even win at first. And yet, what will you do when they send in the elephants? What, but die? No, no, go in peace my friend and be thankful the Maharaja is forgiving.'
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