:applause:
Well done, Matrim!
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:applause:
Well done, Matrim!
Thank you, makaikhaan. It is not my best work, that field of exploits lies in my poetry and things long past. After reading back over what I have written thus far, I wish I had spent more time on it for clarity and typos, but what can you do with the girlfriend impatient for time to be spent with her instead of typing here? Haha. Might also help if I wrote it elsewhere, but I've been writing all of it here--no rough drafts to speak of. Ah well. This is going to be a long one, and my apologies to that. The battles rage on!
A Story of Matrim the Crusader
Chapter 3 - Conflagration
The Western nations, upon learning of the news of the fall of Constantinople, grows quiet for a time, as if the whole world was holding it's breath. The East, however, knew no such pause. The Mongols, under the Golden Horde banner, ravaged the Russians in Kiev and Muscovy, driving all others before them. The Cumans, once a powerful nomad nation, were restricted to the Crimean Peninsula. The Lithuanians were driven north to Livonia and Estonia, displacing the Teutonic Order themselves, and eliminating them. Within a scant quarter century, even the halls of Warsaw were in flames, and ships flying the serpentine black dragon on a field of gold were leaving harbors of Prussia sailing for Sweden. Eventually the Horde will gain full sway over all of Scandinavia.
The Danes, having lost their homeland, indeed cut off by French forces in Saxony, had taken up the old Holy Roman Empire borders, in the heart of Germany, fighting for survival against the French juggernaut. Spain was a patchwork of loyalties, the Castilians exiled to Valencia, flanked by Genoans to the south, and Sicilians along the western and northern coasts of Iberia. Siciliy, Naples, and all holds east under the Hungarian sway. Aquitaine and Toulouse serving as a buffer zone between France and Spain, overrun with rebels.
These things and more are brought to King Henry in the year 1257, as he lies on his deathbed. His son, Richard, is undaunted, anxious to lead and assert his family's honor and God's will upon the world. His younger brother, Edmund, showed little of his aptitude--indeed, he was somewhat effeminate. Henry protected him, against the fundamentalist influences of the court. The following year, just before Constantinople fell, Henry passes and Richard I takes the throne. While reviewing troops in Tripoli, a messenger arrives...
"My Lord," saluting with fist across chest, the officer awaits Montbeliard's nod before continuing. Montbeliard himself played the Steward to young King Richard in all military aspects. Richard was, sadly, little more capable of such matters than his father was. Montbeliard hoped there was something in his lord's bloodline that would manifest before his death. He was not a young man, having already outlived two Crusader-Kings. "Out with it, boy," he grunted irritably.
"Yes, my Lord. Sire, the Ayyubids have led an expedition into Antioch. The garrison, though outnumbered, under Sir John Montfort drove them back into the wilds, inflicting grievous casualties. A little more than one hundred casualties on our part, my lord, and all infidels were put to the sword: totaling some 400. Six Orders of Valor, sire. Even now he has sent word to Sargines and the garrisons of Cyprus and Rhodes. Reinforcements should be en route as we speak."
King Richard listened quietly, with a small smile on his face. He would not mention the English who had arrived just that day, landing under a flag of truce. They were heading south, towards Palestine. He had planned for this day since before his ascension. The smile deepened, and he could not stop the laughter that widened the messenger's eyes. Montbeliard was already striding away bellowing orders.
Sir Geoffrey of Sargines, garbed in the vestments of the Archbishop of Jerusalem, strode down the gangplank from the ship where his men were gathering their gear. Every dock of Antioch, it seemed, was filled with ships unloading troops. The year was 1260, nearing into August. Constantinople surely was the grandest city in the world--he has spent his entire voyage pouring over scrolls and manuscripts brought out of that place, hence his vestments--and he was proud to be that city's Governor. His studies of both military doctrine and theological scripture had both heightened his awareness of God and taught him from his past mistakes in battle.
Soon he gathered with the General Staff; Lord Plantagenant, the new Chancellor of Constantinople; Howard Herbert, the Constable of Jerusalem; and Lord Montfort, fresh back from his Second Battle of Antioch, was now Admiral of Jerusalem. Once the introductions and orders were aside, they heard Montfort's report of this latest engagement against the Ayyubid Prince Khalil: 87 lost, 581 killed, prisoners included, with 6 Orders of Valor as a result; apparently the island garrisons emptied to the mainland in time. The plans for the following war were the business of the day, the most pressing matter was the significant buildup of Egyptians in Syria, no doubt planning another invasion of Antioch.
This attack never came, however. Two years pass, and the English becoming restless, made moreso by the appearance of a French party in Lesser Antioch heading for Edessa. The Crusaders abliged them. In 1263, the English and Crusader allies marched into Palestine, brushing aside the infidels. The following year, Montbeliard leads the bulk of the Crusaders into Syria to root out the amassing Ayyubids. Though outnumbered, Montbeliard was cunning on the offensive, especially against a numerically superior force. Over 1700 Cross-bearing warriors spilled over the dunes to smash into the 1900 awaiting jihadists. The unbearable heat wore down the heavily armored crusaders, sapping strength and resolve, however, and the fight wore on. In the end, hundreds of bodies lay baking in the sun. Among the dead were Montbeliard himself, and his whole order of Templars. Survivers report that, as the battle was at it's height, victory balanced on the edge of a sword, two large units of Egyptian horse appeared out of the sands, threatening the right flank. Montbeliard, uncommitted until that moment, the sun taking an especially heavy toll on his aged frame, spurred his mount into this new threat, saving the entire crusading force. His unit of some 30-odd Templars sent over 100 infidels to the fires of Hell. 557 Crusaders were lost, over 1/4 of the force, taking 1313 Ayyubids with them. Such a hard fight, it was, that only 15 Egyptians surrendered. Only 5 Orders of Valor. That same year, Sargines, unaware of his master's fate, lands in Sinai, sending the garrison fleeing west to Cairo, cutting the Egyptians in half.
1265, Mesopotamia falls after a swift skirmish. Sargines, holding Sinai firm, sends his captain, one Lord Wulfstan, into Arabia. It's garrison, left with nowhere to flee, surrendered and melted into the dunes. Edessa falls. The French, however, immediately turn on their would-be allies. The French Crusade is crushed for it's insolence. The English, however, are rather more hospitable, being on a mission from God, and are relinquished control of Palestine.
1268, after suppressing rebels and overrunning forts throughout the desert, the Crusaders march into Cairo, after a swift and bloody siege. Cairo is nearly razed in the conflict.
1271, Wulfstan leads the 2300 Crusaders in their final assault against the 1450 Ayyubids, the last Muslim nation left in Europe. It appears, however, that Sargines's lessons from Montbeliard, did not involve fighting amongst the dunes, as many mistakes of the Syrian campaign were revisited. The halberds and Templars achieve strong early success, overrunning the front lines, capturing two trebuchets. The first and second Ayyubid waves are pushed back and routed. Arbalests take up a vantage point on a hill to the northeast, raining bolts down on any new-comers to the field, covering the exhausted halberdiers withdrawal. Only two feudal sergeant units, both below half capacity, hold the line against the ever-increasing Saharan cavalry appearing over the horizon. Not enough bolts in flight allow the sargeants to become bogged down, and overrun. The arbalests flee without this support, being run down. Back across the field, the first of the Crusader reinforcements crest the last rise, just as the arbalests run past, Ayyubids on their heels. After a brief exchange, the horsemen decide fleeing archers are much easier targets than polearms, fleeing the field and deserting their Khalifah. Though a victory, it was the first battle the Crusaders lost more then their adversaries: 771 lost, 745 killed, and 7 Orders of Valor. The bitter lessons of Cyrenicia lead the Crusaders to swear never to engage heavily armored units in inhospitable regions again.
By 1274, the final garrisons posted, last loyalists driven off or executed, the Middle East, the entirety of the Holy Land is under Crusader rule.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Nicely done, Matrim! ~:cheers:
Now that the whole of the Levant is under Crusader rule, what do you think your next move will be? It would appear the Golden Horde may be a threat to you, but I also see that Genoa's established quite the Mediterranean empire as well. :sweatdrop:
Well, I've already moved onto the next phase and completed it, for the most part. I've just been really busy with work (7 days a week) and the 4th and all that. I was off work today, but had so many errands to run, I didn't have a chance to sit down and write anything. But I might be able to pull something off tomorrow night. But to answer your question, though the Genoans are excommunicated, they are still Christians and I have hopes that they will walk again in the Lord's Light. But this so-called Golden Horde is ravaging under a Pagan banner. They must be removed.
How do I edit a post, by the way? I have a couple of saved game replays and pics I want to put in.
NO!!!! I overran all of Russia in little more than a decade, but my saved game... it is nowhere to be found! I'm afraid I left it at an Autosave and have since covered it... Curses.
That totally sucks, man. I feel for you. :shame:
Luckily it only puts me back about 2 decades. And after looking at my notes of that particular period, all of which are barely legible shorthand... it's probly a good thing, lol. I'll be on with that campaign soon enough.
Hmm. I was set back to 1306 with my saved-game disappearing act, and quickly moved to reconstruct the events I had done before, with the annexation of Crete, for example, and mobilization of my forces in northern turkey.
And then something dire happened. As my favorite author was prone to say when questioned about untold plots, RAFO--Read and Find Out!
Chapter 4: Fires of Heaven soon cometh!
Hi there I'm a long time player of M:TW and have looked at this site for quite a while. I have enjoyed reading some of the stories on this thread so would like to have a go myself, I apologise now if it is rubbish but hopefully the standard will improve as I go :laugh4:
The Hungarians - Early - Normal - GA
The kingdom of Hungary was a modest one consisting of 3 territories: Croatia, Carpathia and of course Hungary itself.
At the start of our story the man charged with leading the nation to a glorious future is one King Laszlo I, and while not known as a prolific warrior he was a competant leader who was confident in his abilities.
https://https://s511.photobucket.com...ungaryKing.jpg
Laszlos first act as leader was to commision the building of watch towers in all 3 provinces, due to the threat of the bordering Italians, Germans and Polish.
Later that same year Lord Laszlo was sworn in as the first Duke of Hungary (Rumours that he was appointed on name alone were unfounded...).
The Duke immediately sent forth a call to the citizens of Hungary to pursue military training in order to improve the very limited armies that were available at the time.
https://https://s511.photobucket.com...ent=Laszlo.jpg
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The following year was a good one for the Duke of Hungary as he wed the Kings only daughter, Princess Agata which sealed his alliance with to the crown of Hungary.
King Lazslo, seemingly determined to secure his borders assigned more building work this time border forts which delighted his commoners who now were beginning to warm to their King.
The first wave of military forces brought the talents of now Lord Azzony, to the fore.
Azzony was given the title of Duke of Croatia in recognition of his intelligence and loyalty to his King.
https://https://s511.photobucket.com...ent=Azzony.jpg
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Three years passed quietly, with investment into weapons manufacture and agricultural technologies taking place. In early 1091 the kingdom of Hungary rejoiced as King Laszlos eldest son, Prince Laszlo came of age, Despite his young age he had already shown some aptitude on the battlefield which filled his father with pride. But in the young princes private life he had begun to enjoy his drink, would this weakness hold back his true potential...
https://https://s511.photobucket.com...nt=Laszlop.jpg
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The year of 1093 was a busy one for King Laszlo, throughout the year he was approached by representatives from Italy, Germany, Sicily and the Papal States all of whom forged successful alliances.
The month of April brought with it great celebration as Laszlo fathered his 3rd child, Price Kalmar.
But perhaps most importantly the King had amassed an army on the border of Carpathia and Moldavia, a rebel held province loosely ruled by Karoly Gyorgy.
The army, led by Prince Laszlo numbered 220, including urban militia, cavalrymen and local Jobbagy.
Reports from the border revealed that the rebels were very disorganised and only consisted of poorly trained spearmen. The attack would take place the following year.
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The dawn of 1094 brought celebration for Prince Laszlo who married Princess Hedwig of Germany, further solidifying the bond between the two nations.
On the home front King Laszlos middle child, Prince Bela came of age and while not the equal of his brother on the battlefield, he still has a certain proficiency, although there are whispers concerning the young Princes preference for boys over girls...
https://https://s511.photobucket.com...rrent=Bela.jpg
Late in the year Prince Laszlo led his men into the heart of Moldavia, but to their surprise they met no resistance, the cowardly rebels had fled the area leaving the Prince to claim Moldavia as the first Hungarian conquered province.
Once word of the capture reached the King in Croatia a day of celebration was held, the king realised what a crucial area he now had under his rule and and also what the future could hold...
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Thanks for taking the time to read this, if any of the more experienced writers want to give me some pointers, I'd appreciate it. :2thumbsup:
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Nicely done, Yorkshireman22. I'd say you're off to a pretty good start. :yes:
I got a good chuckle from that one. ~DQuote:
Later that same year Lord Laszlo was sworn in as the first Duke of Hungary (Rumours that he was appointed on name alone were unfounded...).
Drums of war. – Turkish Campaign MTW, VI, GA (Hard, early)
Suleyman I (1078-1099) stood upon the threshold of the terrace. Below were the thousands of Turks who had thrust the crown to his head. He looked at the masses with a sorrowful smile and then turned to grim faces of his retinue.
What of it? Of war? He asked. The men all stood silently; their eyes betrayed their fear.
‘What of it!’ He shouted to them.
‘My Sultan, it comes to us all. The drums are sounding even now. If we do not act, we risk complete defeat.’ Amir Sabbah answered quietly. Suleyman regarded him with a respectful nod. He was the only captain worthy of the name.
‘Very well. The Byzantines?’ He replied.
‘Oh no, your magnificence. They are too powerful and are blessed by their heathen god. Our empire must stretch to the desert. The Egyptians are weak and bloated, that is where we must strike.’
‘Search the Taverns for mercenaries and ready your men. We shall go to war and beat drums of our own!’
For a full year his workshops were busy with the sound of hammer and anvil. He took the route down to Antioch himself and with his Ghulam bodyguards would lead the spearhead. On the eve of their departure he took counsel once more with Sabbah.
‘Friend; tomorrow we enter Egyptian lands and our fate.’
‘The omens are good.’ Replied the Amir pointing to the sky. The crescent moon cast low was a deep red.
At first light he surveyed his troops; host of Horse archers, spearmen and Bedouin camel warriors. At the head of the column he marched into Antioch and the Egyptian Kings domain.
In the year 1079 the Egyptians retreated from their lands at the mere sight of the Sultan and his grand army. It set about another ten years of uneasy peace, but there were ever Egyptian hordes at his border.
In 1089 came the battle that been Suleyman’s destiny. The Egyptian command had long been gearing up for this event and sent a huge force to Antioch to re-take their ancient lands. Suleyman had not been idle and with foresight had deployed his firstborn son and heir prince Suleyman to the region with two extra battalions of archers. It was said that on that day the drums of war sounded so loudly that all of Turkey heard them, and most quailed. 2000 hardened Egyptian troops arrived in Antioch with a baggage train of another 1000 or so peasants. Prince Suleyman set out to meet with Amir Sabbah before the battle. He found him leaning on a giant wooden contraption.
‘Amir! ‘Tis upon us, the day of reckoning.’
‘Prince Suleyman.’ The Amir replied bowing. ‘Not yet my Prince, for we have Allah with us and he has delivered secrets that even our alchemists have not.’
‘That?’ The Prince replied eying the engine of war.’
‘Yes; these are ballista, constructed from manuscripts stolen from the Byzantine workshops. Let the Egyptians come. Let them die.’ The prince left to meet his men with the Amir’s words resounding through his mind.
The battle of Antioch (The first main encounter of the Egyptian wars.)
The Egyptian Army set about the field with purpose, Suleyman deployed his troops along a rocky outcrop that would provide a great defence against any flanking cavalry. He set three units of archers to defend the position and two units of spears as a reserve. At the far end was the ballista. His Horse archers, Bedouin camels and Ghulam bodyguards would have the job of flanking and harassing the advancing army.
The Egyptians had some cavalry, mighty camel warriors, on the opposing flank. In its centre was a core of spears with peasants behind and skirmishing archers led the van. As they approached the ridge the Egyptian camels broke formation with a unit of spears to attack Suleyman’s cavalry detachment. Catching the Turkish with surprise the Egyptian spears managed to engage Suleymans camels and the Egyptian camels also charged into the Eastern fray. It looked as though Suleymans flanking manoeuvre was in tatters. He well knew the power of the camel.
The main Egyptian army came under withering fire from the ridge and were dying in droves but pushed on resolutely, it looked as though they would reach the summit where the Turkish could only hold it briefly. The Turkish started to waver but, two things turned the battle that day; Suleyman took the initiative and wheeled his Ghulam bodyguards away from the melee. He was able to round the knot on the east and found himself behind the Egyptian rear. He spurred his steed onwards into the peasants that formed the soft underbelly of Egypt’s army. Secondly, as the portents had decreed a lucky volley from the ballista killed the enemy general. The spears and camels routed and the peasants followed. The Egyptians had been soundly beaten, but luck had played a key part, and it taught Prince Suleyman some valuable lessons.
In the aftermath of the battle some two thousand enemies had been slain, the Turkish had lost over five hundred men, mostly the camels and horse archers that had got slaughtered by the Egyptian spearmen. As it was the Egyptians sued for a ceasefire as Syria rebelled from their hands. It was a fortuitous turn of events for the Sultan and there would many more for his Empire, but for now it was a time for rebuilding and strengthening. Alas for Suleyman I his reign was ended prematurely when he died of Syphilis at the age of fifty one. His son, Suleyman II cleansed the old harem for fear of the same demise. He was a headstrong king with only a few virtues, even with the first major victory won he would need all of his father’s luck.
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Bravo, Ironsword! A fine first chapter in the annals of the Turks! :medievalcheers:
So I have to ask: Had you intended for the ballista crew to kill the Egyptian commander, or did they get a lucky shot? ~;)
Also, kudos on the description of Suleyman's unfortunate demise....and the steps his son took to remedy any such thing happening to him. I got a pretty good chuckle out of that. ~D
Still reading this thread and still thoroughly enjoying it. Keep it up.
Perhaps this has been brought up already, but Pitbull's posts on the fourth page made me cry of laughter:
https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showp...&postcount=109
(scroll down some for an even better post)
I've had a couple good games. there was the one where I took over the world as the turks on medium. that was tricky. Ended up playing off against Spain for the last 50 or so years.
Byzantine game was easily the most entertaining, because them on easy is a joke. I quickly went all the way up to scandinavia, took all 3 viking producing countries and just spent almost 50-75 years building up huscarles/landrunners. or landsmen, can't remember. Either way, when the golden horde came into Khazar in 1232ish with 16,000ish men I met them with 26,000, of which about 5 were landsmen, 8 were huscarles, then a lot of other :daisy:. it was crazy. they lasted all of 2 turns in the game.
pwned?
Apologies for the delay in this latest chapter....one of those times when life gets in the way of MTW, I suppose....but I got here in the end.
The Chronicles of Bamff of the Serbs
~ A Campaign in XL ver 3.0 – Hard – GA ~
Chapter 8 – Christendom is a House Divided
News of Pope John’s treachery quickly reached the Tzar. His fury was said to be dreadful to behold. In truth Tzar Stefan was as angry with himself as with his former ally. He inwardly seethed that he had focussed too closely on the Danish threat beyond his northern boundaries and consequently had not noticed the viper in his own garden.
He fumed to his assembled advisors. “Send for de Richemont!”
Lord de Richemont was one of a number of French nobles who had sworn allegiance to Serbia in the dying days of the French kingdom. He had been rewarded by Tzar Stefan with the title of Duke of Normandy, and had established a reputation throughout the kingdom of Serbia for being ‘most eloquent’. The populace of Normandy rejoiced in their new Duke, and not only because he was one of their own. De Richemont had established a reputation as a great builder. His skills were, however, most definitely not limited to the social or economic arena. A true “man for all seasons”, Lord de Richemont was also a renowned leader of men, and a skilled tactician. Time and again, he had shown himself to be an expert attacker. More than capable for the job at hand, mused Tzar Stefan.
“My Lord, I do not wish to appear presumptuous, but I must ask - why the Frenchman? Surely one of our own Serbian born generals…” The question had come from the lips of Lord Davidovic, Duke of Milan. His voice had trailed off as the Tzar’s eyes fell upon his own.
“I am well aware,” began the Tzar in measured ones “That there are as many among you who regard de Richemont as ‘Weak Principled’ as there are who believe him to be a ‘Man of Principles’. The dichotomy of vices and virtues in this world in which we live is often confusing, and yes, I am well aware that both of these descriptions have been applied to this man. Yes, he was born in France. True he turned his back on the King of France to swear loyalty to Serbia. It is also true that he is general of exceptional ability, a general who has earned the respect and unquestioning loyalty of all who have ever served under him – and it is for this reason that I have chosen him to lead our army into the Papal States.”
With that the Tzar waved his hand to dismiss the other assembled nobles. To a man, they bowed and filed from the room, with the exception of Lord Hrnjak, Voivode of Moldavia.
“Majesty, I had thought that Prince Desa was to lead our avenging army….”
“Indeed, Hrnjak, old friend, that is what we discussed – however the talents of de Richemont in the field are too good to ignore…and he will be desperate to prove himself a “true” Serbian noble. Thos two factors aside – I also will confess that I found the sweet irony too delicious to resist. One who has turned to us, renouncing his former loyalties to the Catholic Church, leading our army to punish a former ally who has treacherously turned against us. Imagine that - a former Catholic leading the army which will drive the Pope from the Papal States, no less. Our own Orthodox Church will rejoice, and by giving them this victory to trumpet over Catholicism, I will wield ever greater control over the clergy. Perhaps we may at last have the Church working for the State.”
So it was that Lord de Richemont, a Frenchman by birth, led the Serbian army that marched upon the Papal States.
Battle Joined at Perugia
Whilst the two forces that faced one another across the plains to the west of Perugia were similar in size, there were some vital differences in leadership, equipment, and battlefield experience. Almost all of the Serbian army units had seen action in the war with Byzantium. Some had served in the rebel uprisings that had plagued various Mediterranean island territories. All were well equipped and well armed.
On the papist side of the field stood a ragged collection indeed. There were as many farmers, tradesmen, and merchants among their number as professional soldiers – and many of those claiming this latter title had never seen battle outside the arena of the joust, and a good number had not seen any more “active” service than standing guard at whatever castle the Pope was presently visiting. Their armour and equipment varied dramatically according to the wealth and station of each individual man. All were acutely aware of this, and of how different the situation was with the Serbian force that now faced them.
These deficiencies on the part of the Papist army may have been redressed but for the leadership issue. Pope John XXI was a man of the church, not a warrior by any means. Indeed, it was a most unusual turn of events that he had even appeared on the field on this day, although, like all members of the Papist army, he knew what was at stake in this encounter. He cut a fine figure indeed astride his stallion, but it somehow did not ring true. True, his armour and vestments were the finest that money could buy, but his troops drew no comfort from the finery of his dress, nor the gleam of his highly polished armour. It was to the man inside the armour that they were looking to for inspiration, and sadly there was little there to instill any confidence. The Serbian army had no such problems. Lord de Richemont had distinguished himself time and again in the field for his native France. He carried with him the aura of a successful general, as well he might with such a career. Both he and his armour showed the scars of battle, and none doubted his leadership nor tactical ability.
This final difference, on top of the others, was to prove decisive. As the Serbian forces bore down upon the defenders, Pope John’s prevarication cost his men dearly. By the time he had reached a decision and issued orders, all too often the troops who were the subject of those orders were either dead or fleeing the field. With the carnage unfolding before his very eyes, the Pope turned to his adjutant Biagio Corsini.
“My Lord Corsini. I must away to….errr….gather reinforcements….and ….umm…to check on the defences of Perugia Castle. It is God’s will. I appoint you commander of this army. May God be with you,” and with that, the clearly panic stricken Pope spurred his mount and he raced away from the field.
News of the Pope’s flight spread as wildfire throughout the Papist army, and a great many of the force quickly chose to follow his lead. To his great credit, Corsini tried hard to rally the troops, but it was to no avail. With Vlastela Heavy Cavalry cutting a swathe through the now thoroughly disordered ranks of the Papal forces, few were interested in sacrificing themselves for the cause. The unfortunate Corsini finds himself to be one of 240 prisoners taken. 1,087 soldiers of the Papacy, and 299 Serbians lie dead on the field.
https://i140.photobucket.com/albums/...apalStates.jpg
Lord de Richemont had proven himself to all in Serbia – but he himself was not yet satisfied. When he had sworn allegiance to Serbia, he had also turned to the Orthodox faith, renouncing his Catholocism. The Catholic Church had in turn excommunicated all members of his family. Whilst this did not concern de Richemont himself, it was a devastating blow to his younger sister, Eloise. Stripped of her religion, she had descended into madness. Refusing to eat or drink, the once beautiful young woman had faded away to a miserable end. Now, fate had presented de Richemont with a golden opportunity to exact his vengeance. His army marched immediately on Perugia Castle. He had already claimed the province for Serbia, but he also wanted to claim the Pope for his Tzar, and for his dear sister.
Completely surrounded, outnumbered, with no hope of relief, and with dwindling supplies, the garrison of Perugia have little hope of resistance. The castle falls to the Serbians early in 1270, and fortunately for Pope John XXI, Tzar Stefan accepts the ransom of 12,122 florins offered by the Pope's followers for the safe return of the pontiff. The Pope is exiled to Corsica. The Italian peninsula is now completely under Serbian rule.
Meanwhile, the Serbian advance in the east continued to soak up the former states of the Byzantine Empire. None is able to resist the Serbian advance when standing alone. Rum, Armenia, and Trebizond fall to the eastern armies in 1270.
At the insistence of his court, Pope John XXI petitions Tzar Stefan for a ceasefire in 1272. The Pope is a broken man. Stefan, believing that he has successfully avenged the treachery of 1268 and in the process shown the world that Serbia is not to be trifled with, accepts the Pope’s offer - and offers the Pope a none too subtle reminder that should he breach this latest agreement, it will be de Richemont who will be sent to deal with him, and that next time, Tzar Stefan will not be holding the leash of his "dog of war".
That same year, Edessa falls to Lord Roganovic as the Serbian steamroller continues its eastward drive. Two years later Prince Uros takes Syria, and Lord Garasanin claims Mesopotamia. All three are bloodless victories.
The kingdom of Greater Serbia now stretches unbroken from the English Channel to the middle east. Only Denmark stands as a possible rival in the north, and in 1274, they reveal their true intentions, with a crusade launched against the Serbian province of Edessa.
This act of aggression is followed in 1275 by the invasion of Moldavia. A mighty Danish army, numbering some 7,132 men follows Lord Tryggvasson into the Serbian province. The defending Serbian garrison, under Lord Komljenovic, numbers no more than 1,680 men. Notwithstanding the overwhelming numerical superiority of the Danes, the Serbian army stands firm, marching to meet their foes on the plains adjacent to the township of Puesti.
Carnage at Puesti
Lord Tryggvasson, though a highly successful general, had established a reputation as a somewhat unorthodox tactician. Time and again during he had surprised his enemies by directing his armies to do what was least expected, and time and again his armies had triumphed as the Danish steamroller had swept eastwards across northern Europe. True to form at Puesti, Tryggvasson’s first wave consisted of nothing but javelinmen.
Sadly for his men, Tryggvasson’s gamble that the Serbs would break and run as such a large group of men approached was wildly optimistic. The Serbian arbalests and bowmen rained death upon the Danes from long range. Not one javelin man reached a point close enough to the Serbian line to allow a single Danish javelin to be hurled. Very few Danes lived to flee. A roar went up from the Serbian ranks as the shattered and panic stricken Danes fled the field. Whilst the field was literally covered in dead and dying Danes, not a single Serb had been injured, let alone killed (although one young bowman was heard to complain of blisters on his drawing fingers).
The second Danish wave was to fare better than the first, but only just. Led by the fearsome Lord Slyngebard, this wave at least inflicted some casualties on the Serbs, with 3 arbalests and 3 Vlastela footknights falling. Again, however, the Danes were driven back with appalling loss of life. Lord Slyngebard himself was among the dead. His troop of 20 royal knights had been reduced to 2 in the space of 50 metres, such was the accuracy of the Serbian archers. The pattern was repeated again and again. It soon became apparent to Lord Tryggvasson that the day was lost. As the devastated Danish general led the remnant of his army from the field, he paused to look back. From one side to the other, all that he could see were Danish corpses. He turned to Sir Ulfhedin Huntjofsen, and noted “I fear that this is the beginning of the end, Ulfhedin. Look at the losses that they inflicted on this mighty army…..and we barely scratched their force. This may be a war that we cannot win.”
Huntjofsen was shocked at his superior’s words “My Lord, surely the darkness of this day has clouded your judgement. One battle does not…” the words died on his lips as Tryggvasson’s hand touched his shoulder.
The older man spoke “Thank you Ulfhedin, I too have seen my share of warfare and ordinarily would agree. It was the manner of this victory that has caused my concern. If their armies in the north are half as disciplined, half as well equipped, and half as well led as this one, I fear that Denmark is in grave danger indeed.”
His concerns were justified. The battle of Puesti had cost 1,469 Danish lives. A further 791 men faced an uncertain future as prisoners. By comparison, only 36 Serbians had been lost.
https://i140.photobucket.com/albums/...stiVictory.jpg
Victories in the North
Even as Lord Tryggvasson’s army licked its wounds in retreat, three Serbian armies struck in North-western Europe. Lord Gvero led one force into Brandenburg, Lord Nacuk invaded Friesland, and Milojica Subasic led a third army into Saxony. The size of these forces, and the sudden nature of the triple strike resulted in little opposition being encountered, and all three provinces passed to Serbian control. The fall of Saxony, and its chapter house also resulted in the dissolution of the Danish crusade on Edessa.
The weight of these blows hit the Danish king hard. A mere shadow of his former self, he falls gravely ill. Only months later, the news spreads across Europe that the Danish King is dead. With no heir, Denmark dissolves. The great nation that was is now no more than a ragtag collection of independent states.
Serbia now stands alone as the only significant power in Medieval Europe.
“A minor victory, some may say,” muses Tzar Stefan “but a victory nonetheless. I have no thirst for war for the sake of war. With none to stand against us, now is the time to enjoy the fruits of our labours of these past 200 years.”
And so it came to pass that the Chronicles of Bamff of the Serbs came to an end in the year 1279, with Serbia standing alone as the greatest power in Medieval Europe.
Previous Chapters of This Campaign
Chapter 1 – A Place to Live
Chapter 2 - Carving an Empire
Chapter 3 – Treachery & Triumph
Chapter 4 – An Unexpected Threat
Chapter 5 – The Storm Breaks
Chapter 6 – Conquest & Expansion
Chapter 7 – Peace Proves a Fleeting & Illusory Thing
How can I show a picture that I saved from a MTW gasme?
Hi Ingersoll
I have sent you a "step by step" via private message, just so as not to get "off topic" in this thread.
Cheers!
bamff
Bravo! Bravissimi! :medievalcheers: A magnificent conclusion to an outstanding AAR! You are, as always, to be commended on your fine storytelling, bamff. :2thumbsup:
Naturally, the following passage made me laugh the hardest:
Truly, your talent for breaking the fourth wall in your campaign stories remains unequaled. :laugh4: :laugh4: :laugh4:Quote:
Originally Posted by bamff
I got a good chuckle from that one as well. :beam:Quote:
Originally Posted by bamff
I thank you for providing us with such superb entertainment, my friend. Homer himself could not have done better. :bow:
Spoiler Alert, click show to read:
Many thanks Martok, I am glad to hear that it entertained! :bow:
Personally I was a bit disappointed in how it ended up. With the collapse of Denmark I suddenly found myself with a huge empire and army, surrounded by minnows. Yes, I could have steamrolled on to a conclusion, but that didn't strike me as a whole lot of fun....
So, back into the saddle, and on to the next challenge (hopefully soon-ish)!
well done bamff - another excellent account
i have always enjoyed reading your campaign narratives.
I am also very impressed with some of your battle victories - the one against the Danes with only 36 killed is amazing (as well as totally beyond my skill)
Many thanks, MJF!
As for the lopsided body count at Puesti, I think a large part of that was down to luck - in that the AI made some really odd early choices about what troops to send at me, the terrain was favourable, and the AI general did not have a "valour count" to match my general.
I was fortunate that I could park myself somewhere where the AI had to come uphill, and where my arbs could fire over the heads of my CFK's. The poor old AI were largely mown down before they could get close enough to return fire.
So, while I would love to take the credit for the victory, there was in reality (or 'virtuality" as it may be!) not a great deal of skill on my part - just a fair slice of good fortune and the good sense to follow MeglaGnome's guide on the proper use of Arbalests!
French, Year 1190, Inquistion of Rome. Gotta love those Inquisitors
https://i357.photobucket.com/albums/...Inquistion.jpg
Holy crap, man. How many inquisitors do you have in Rome anyway -- four? Now that's what I call zealotry!
3 GI's, 4 I's? Just the thing to keep the Rome fires burning...
Is that the ONLY non-french province remaining, Ingersoll?
A little bit of a "change of pace" for me with this one....I decided that I would have a crack at Burgundy, and consequently had to abandon my usual preference to "build from scratch"....
The Chronicles of Bamff of Burgundy
~ A Campaign in XL ver 3.0 – Hard – GA ~
Chapter 1– The Duchy Stirs
Prelude to War
Phillipe shifted in his saddle, drinking in the vista that spread out before him. His gaze rested momentarily on the distant peak of Haut-Folin. Bathed as it now was in the glorious colours of the setting sun, it almost seemed to glow. Granted it was neither the tallest nor most majestic of mountains, but it was the highest point in all of Burgundy. The highest point in Phillipe’s dominion.
It had been a long and winding road that had led to Phillipe holding the title Duke of Burgundy. His forebears had done well to carve out a territory for his family at all. For a time, Burgundy had been a truly volatile and anarchic territory, squabbled over by local lords, the French crown, and the Holy Roman Empire to the east. Phillipe’s forebears, had struggled long and hard to stabilise the Duchy. They had succeeded, and Burgundy had flowered – although at this time, in 1321, that precious flower was still blossoming in the shadow of France, the Holy Roman Empire, and Genoa and Venice to the south. Burgundy was a principality that was now on the verge of standing shoulder to shoulder with the other great powers of Europe, to claim its place as a nation….and yet, it was still but a principality.
He reflected on the territories that he had inherited from the hard work of his ancestors, and the infrastructure provided by the programming work of VikingHorde. He had not had any say over what had been constructed in the years up to now, but he was confident that he could take the existing structures that had come into his possession, and use them wisely.
Phillipe was determined to change that, to set things right in the garden of Europe. He would put Burgundy on the map. “Burgundy will be known for more than coq au vin and bourguigon de boeuf,” he muttered again to himself. He paused for a moment, watching a starling feeding a brood of hungry chicks, and his thoughts turned to his own family. A smile flitted across his face as he thought of his beloved Duchess Jeanne, and their three children – Phillipe, Jean, and Charlotte. Phillipe, the eldest was but 11 years of age…..and the lady Jeanne, was, even now, once again heavy with child.
He knew that the course of action that he was contemplating would potentially place them in even greater peril than his beloved Burgundy. He looked to the heavens, and asked himself “Should I wait? At least until the boys are of age?”
His mount snorted, interrupting his doubts.
“Yes, you are quite right, old friend,” Phillipe smiled as he stroked the beast’s mane. “There must be no further delay.”
He had already garnered the support of the Jours Generaux, the Burgundian parliament that sat at Beaune. Of course their support was not, strictly speaking, necessary, but one thing that Phillipe had learned well enough in his 38 years was that the support of the parliament, and of the Burgundian people, would make his task all the easier.
There was still some way to go, many preparations to be made. He turned his mount away from the setting sun and with a gentle dig of his heels started back towards Dijon castle.
The Journey Begins
Phillipe had good reason for caution. Burgundy’s options for expansion were severely limited, and fraught with great risk. The army, such as it was in 1321, was in no fit state to take on those of France, the Holy Roman Empire, Venice, or Genoa, and a war of attrition with any of these neighbouring powers could have only one end result. Eventually, Phillipe knew that he would have to lock horns with one of these great states, but he would do so at a time of his own choosing – a time which offered a far greater probability of success – or at least, of survival.
In the meantime, Duke Phillipe busied himself and Lord de Blois, whom he had appointed Master of the Armoury, with the task of assembling, equipping, and training a credible military force. As the year 1322 dawned, some progress had been made. Not enough, it was true, for Burgundy to answer the call of Pope John XXII for all Catholic nations to crusade against the Nasrids, but certainly enough to impress several visiting Aragonese nobles. These nobles had already been amazed by the opulence and finery of the court at Dijon, noting it to be “far superior to that of Paris”. This in itself had caused Duke Phillipe’s chest to swell with pride, but it was to carry far greater import for Burgundy.
With the glowing accolades of the travelling nobles ringing in his ears, King Alfonso IV of Aragon was the first European head of state to offer Phillipe the recognition that he so craved, sending an emissary to offer an alliance with the Duchy. Phillipe wasted no time in accepting this alliance, and the Burgundian court found itself celebrating for the second time in a matter of months, with the Duchess Jeanne having only recently delivered a third son, Charles, after a trouble free labour.
By 1324, Phillipe was ready to test the mettle of his new army, and he marched east into Switzerland. The Swiss forces rallied behind the banner of Hermann Echter. Phillipe would soon be able to gauge the success of his endeavours in the crucible of combat.
Victory at Langnau
Whilst Echter had done well to rally an army to face the Burgundian force, his real challenge now lay before him. Like many in Switzerland, he had great faith in the strength of polearms….perhaps too great. He had neglected to bring any projectile troops to the field at Langnau at all, reasoning that the prevailing weather conditions in Switzerland were not at all conducive to such weapons. Switzerland was simply far too rainy. Also, he felt that the Burgundians would have to ascend from the valley floor in any case, and that consequently his own men were safe from the enemy crossbows simply because they would remain out of range.
As it transpired, the field at Langnau was bathed in bright sunshine for several days leading up to the battle, and the sun remained continued to radiate its warmth on the field as the two armies stood face to face. Echter’s height advantage was also destined to be short lived. Duke Phillipe, had a plan of his own to counter this.
While the main Burgundian line formed up halfway up the slope, Phillipe directed his Coustilliers to approach the Swiss position from either flank. Sir Bernard de Plaisans wheeled his men out to approach the Swiss from the right, and Sir Arthur Marcel’s Coustilliers approached from the left. Two volleys of javelins rained down upon the Swiss before the Coustilliers achieved their goal. Despite Echter’s repeated orders to stand fast, a regiment of Halberdiers and one of Pikemen broke ranks to chase off the Coustilliers of de Plaisans. The wily Burgundian captain deftly drew them ever further down the slope, pausing to hurl a volley of javelins and then wheeling away out of reach just as the Swiss looked to close on their tormentors. Before they had even seen the danger, the first combined volley from three regiments of Burgundian crossbowmen ripped through the Swiss ranks. Again and again the Burgundian bowmen unleashed death upon their foes, as javelins continued to do their own deadly work from above and behind the Swiss force.
In desperation, the Swiss charged at the Crossbowmen. The Burgundians simply withdrew, allowing the chivalric footknights, halberdiers, and chivalric men at arms to move forward. The footknights under Lord de Blois, having advanced up the slope earlier, now wheeled in to smash into the exposed left flank of the Swiss halberdiers. The resulting carnage was terrible to behold, as the tightly packed Swiss were hacked down in droves.
Meanwhile, further up the slope, casualties among Echter’s own regiment of Pikemen were also mounting under a steady hail of javelins from Marcel’s Coustilliers. No matter how many times the Pikemen turned, the Coustilliers countered, moving around their flank to hurl their javelins at the less protected flanks or rear of the Swiss line. Survival was now paramount in Echter’s mind. Clearly the day was lost, it was now time to escape. He ordered his men to march further up the slope. Marcel’s Coustilliers moved in to cut off this avenue of escape, and heroically engaged the Pikemen directly in order to hold them. They did not have to hold for long, before Duke Phillipe led his Royal Knights into the exposed rear of the Swiss formation. Caught in this pincer, with nowhere to run, and no room to manoeuvre, the Swiss had but two choices – surrender or die. Some dropped their cumbersome weapons and tried to flee, but they were ridden down by the knights and coustilliers. Echter, not wishing to see any more of his countrymen die in vain, surrendered, and called upon all other survivors to do the same.
196 Swiss soldiers lay dead all across the slope. A mere 64 had survived to surrender. Burgundian losses amounted to a paltry 5 dead. Duke Phillipe, and his army, had passed their first test with flying colours. Switzerland had fallen. Sir Arthur Marcel’s role in the victory was duly rewarded, with Phillipe bestowing upon him the title of Duke of Switzerland.
https://i140.photobucket.com/albums/...witzerland.jpg
News of the Burgundian victory travelled swiftly across Europe. Consul Pietro IV of Genoa was the first to react, accepting a Burgundian offer of alliance late in 1324.
Before the year was complete, bells would be tolling throughout Burgundy one more time. Barely weeks after Duke Phillipe II triumphantly returned to Dijon in 1324, all of Burgundy was celebrating the birth of Prince Louis, a fourth son to the royal house. It appeared that heaven itself was smiling upon Duke Phillipe II.
For his own part, however, Phillipe knew that the true test was yet to come. All that had unfolded thus far, the preliminary steps of his “Grand Plan” were but a stroll in the alps compared with what lay ahead. Was Europe ready for Burgundy? Was Burgundy ready to follow him? Only one thing was sure. Phillipe himself was ready to open the “second phase” of his plan, and once again, his army began assembling….
I think it was 5 Grand Inquisitors and it was the last province left. I was getting People Killed = 30800 for quite a few turns. It may be a limitation of the game somewhere/somehow. Funny that Rome would have so many heretics :-)
You can send assassins after one of your princes.
Marvelous, bamff! I don't think we've seen a Burgundian campaign before, so this should be especially good. :2thumbsup:
(Also loved the mention of VikingHorde. :laugh4: )
Yes you can. Although I still prefer to "prune" my sons by sending them on suicide missions. ~DQuote:
Originally Posted by Ingersoll
I had a question concerning playing the PAPACY, in the Glorious Achievments they have crusades but cannot build a chapterhouse. I found out that if they occupy the province they get the points. So OK then, off on the crusades. Having trouble with the Byzantians, Hungarians, Novogards.
https://i357.photobucket.com/albums/...oll/Papacy.jpg