Yurt of the Khan: BC Hotseat IC thread

[phonicsmonkey]

The Great Khan's Grand Yurt (or ger in Mongolian) is a large portable felt tent built around a wooden frame and drawn by oxen. It travels with the Mongol armies as they campaign, providing living quarters, a mobile command centre and Royal Court all in one.

After the execution of his emissaries by the governor of Samarqand, the Great Khan received a delegation of diplomats sent by the Grand Alliance of Caliphate, Seljuk,Ghaznavid, Mamluk and Rajput leaders, their mission to placate the Khan and turn him from his course of war.

The Great Khan ordered the diplomats held captive and they are now assembled in his Grand Yurt, where they are allowed to converse freely with their captors and one another, and to give and receive messages from the outside world.

[phonicsmonkey]

The Yurt is empty save for the captives and their guards.

The Caliph's emissary to the Mongols, Zahiriddin Nasr Muhammad Aufi picks himself up off the floor and dusts down his white robes.

In a tremulous and quavering voice, he addresses his captors in pidgen Mongolian.

What right have you to seize us and keep us captive here? The Caliph offers the hand of peace and you spit on it!

Where is your Khan taking this army? And what do you intend to do with us?

[Quirl]

Next to the Caliph's ambassador, the slave representative, Khaiden Abdul-Malik, cousin of Quirl al-Mustafa Mubarak, awaits silently. He is dressed in simple robes and a chainmail mask-- a growing custom amongst the slaves meant to signify their sacrifice of personal identity to the will of their divine slavery.

[The Lemongate]

The Mongol soldiers barely acknowledge the hostages. They remain impassible at Zahiriddin's use of their tongue, his word eliciting no reaction or recognition in their cold, dark eyes. Their faces are foreign, asian and indecipherable. They form a semi-circle around their charges, standing idly or in a low crouch. The air in the yurt is heavy with boredom.

[Ramses II CP]

The Rajput emissary has taken to drawing characters from his language idly on his palm. Any who can read them will be able to tell that he is spelling out 'They will come,' over and over again.

[Zim]

The Ghazni emmisary has been pacing muttering to himself for what seems like days. Every attempt to speak with his captors has failed. Finally he breaks.

Fools! I am a representative the Shah of Ghazni, He who rules from the mountains of Kabul to the seas to the south. He will not suffer to have his diplomats treated to by foreign beggars and thieves. Even now great hosts are likely being sent to free me from this collection of hovels.

Satisfied at having finally gotten the rant out of him, the emmissary collapses onto the ground. Despite the brave words he had heard rumors of the great hosts invading his lands, and wonders if even the great Ghaznavid army can withstand them.

[The Lemongate]

From the entryway comes a polite cough. It is faint, even soft, but to the assembled emissaries, it thunders above the din of men and horses surrounding the yurt. As one, they turn to face the new arrival: a small man of undecipherable age, head shaved, wearing a bright-yellow silk robe with subtle white flowered patterns and a bright-orange sash. The guards straighten at his approach. Hands spread, he bows his head:

I am Qubaphzira of the Xianbei. Welcome to the home of my master, Ghengis Khan.

The man affects another slight bow and, turning towards the entrance, he claps his hands twice. Two girls dressed in rich clothes and light wooden sandals bring in a large tea pot and ornately designed porcelain cups along with fresh fruits and biscuits.

I am sorry for the long wait. My master has only recently returned from the Dangxiang Qiang and so will be with you when time permits. He has asked me to convey his most sincere apologies for any misunderstandings that might have occurred.

Qubaphzira bows his head respectfully to Ghaznavid and Iraki diplomats.

You are not prisoners here. Your horses have been fed and taken care of. You are free to go.

Raising his right hand, he adds a brief "Shü!" and all but two guards leave the yurt.

The Khan is however, much eager to speak with the representatives of the Great Caliph and his allies, particularly the emissary from the Ghaznavid Shah. There is a slight matter of diplomatic protocol I am sure can be quickly amended between men of good faith.

Qubaphzira bows one last time before briskly exiting the yurt in a blur of brightly colored silk.

The emissaries, still stunned by this unexpected turn of events, are unable to utter a sound for a few seconds. The man's words echo strangely in their minds. The warm smiles of the servant girls help them slowly recover from their stupor. It takes them another several minutes before they realize that what had them puzzled was the language in which Qubaphzira, clearly not a Mongol, had spoken to them. A perfect, if slightly accented, eastern variant of Persian.

Outside the yurt, the sound of innumerable hooves and the guttural voices of the Mongols picks up, reminding the diplomats all too well of their immediate surroundings.

[Quirl]

The slave takes a seat on the floor and declines the girls' offering of food. They leave a bowl in front of him nonetheless, and the slave suddenly remembers the old Egyptian diplomat from the time of Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn. He rolls his eyes in remembrance and slides the bowl away from him subtly with his foot...

[Ramses II CP]

A second Rajput emissary is thrust into the yurt. The first looks on seemingly without surprise, but the second avoids his eyes and sits on the far side of the tent from him. The two do not speak and the second resolutely refuses to meet the gaze of the first. After a time he lifts his head to nod at the man from Ghazni and the Seljuk diplomat, but remains utterly silent.

[Zim]

The Ghaznavid diplomat picks himself up and nods to the newly arrived Rajput emissary before bowing to Qubaphzira.

I understand the governor of Samarqand was less than polite. He is a man of the ruling stock of the old Kwarezhm Shah, which we appointed to the position as recognition for his family's long control of the region. We fear he is somewhat embittered by his family's poor fortune in the last war. The Shah of Ghazni apologizes for the trouble that has been caused between our peoples.

[phonicsmonkey]

Zahiriddin has been outside the Yurt for a walk. He re-enters and speaks to his fellow diplomats in a hushed tone.

Gentlemen, we are certainly nearing the vicinity of Samarqand. What the Khan intends to do with this great host can be in little doubt. I hope the messages we have sent to our Caliph and Sultans have been heard and preparations have been made.

It seems war is now unavoidable, unless there is some trick up the Khan's sleeve...

OOC:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

When I wrote above that the diplomats had been held captive, it was really a plot device just to provide an explanation as to why they would stick around the Yurt once the mongols attack their homelands. Not some attempt to paint the Mongols in a certain light. I'm going to struggle to find an IC reason for Zahiriddin to be here by his own free will if the Mongols are laying waste to the Caliph's allies.

[Quirl]

A message is received by the slave after being reviewed by the Mongols. Though the Mongols are visibly hesitant to hand him the letter, they see no immediate harm in doing so.

The slave unwraps the scroll, reads it, and then announces:

The slaves have been preparing a "stable and dock system" to supply continuous aid in the form of light cavalry and dhows. This system is finally complete and the first wave of anti-horse archers are en route to Transoxiana.

He puts away the scroll

I hope they will arrive in time to aid our masters in the North.

OOC:

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

How are we supposed to receive frequent messages from our underlings in our empire if we are in our enemy's tent? That could be a problem...

Anyways, these are "slaves" I'm sending out, so if anyone in the 4th Caliphate has specific objectives for them, let me know...

[Ramses II CP]

Much time has passed and still the second Rajput emissary avoids the first. The men do not eat together and the second will not sit anywhere near the first. The situation has begun to border on the absurd, and this is not lost on the first diplomat. While the slave is reading the second diplomat pays careful attention, turning his back on his predecessor completely, who sneaks up on him from behind.

After the document is read the second man turns around to find himself nose to nose with the first. He jumps as though someone pinched him and claps his right hand over the left side of his chest, holding his rough shirt tight against himself. The first diplomat is no less startled by this response, and jerks back himself, but on seeing the gesture from the second his eyes widen.

The second man recovers and says something low and fast in a native Indian tongue to the first, then shoves him with brute force, tumbling him hard away to the ground.

For a few instants the silence holds, then the first man, still with a look of shock in his eyes, leaps to his feet and begins to shout,

"Guards! Guards! This man is no diplomat! Though he was once of my people he bears the mark of a Muslim slave. He must have been a turncoat in service to the Ghors! I demand that you check his credentials, he does not belong here. My name is Siyaka Devapala and I am the sole true representative of the Rajput people!"

The second man sneers at the first and does not answer, simply watching for the Mongol response in silence.

[Quirl]

The slave watches the sudden outburst between the two Hindus with wide-eyed curiosity. He looks up at the Mongol guards to see their next move, wondering if the other Hindu is indeed a spy and assassin.

Spoiler Alert, click show to read: 

*Nudge, nudge* Mongol Guards

[Quirl]

After the intense argument between the two Hindu diplomats, the slave leans over and taps one of the men on the shoulder. The Hindu man whips around and the slave is as equally startled by his response. Then the Egyptian man clears his throats and simply says...

I have been asked to speak with you regarding San'a, when you... or the other one... have a moment...

He then leans back and looks towards the others.

I have received a letter that your humble slaves have captured Mecca and that the last remnants of the blasphemous Oman have been purged from Arabia. Your blessed Jihad has been carried out with success in the south. We will carry out with equal ferocity the defense of the Caliphate in the north.

He is silent.

[phonicsmonkey]

Zahiriddin overhears this and his face brightens noticeably.

Praise be to Allah! At last our noble Caliph's jihad against the heretical ibadis is complete with the return of Mecca to the rule of the faithful!

At least there are some glad tidings amongst the stream of bad news - I have not received a dispatch from Baghdad for many months, which suggests the communication lines are blocked by the armies of our insidious hosts.

I pray it is not true, but I heard our guards bragging that by some gross incompetence the gates of Firuzkh were not barred against the besiegers and the Shah of Ghazni himself was slain along with his royal army and the city put to the sword.

He grows visibly angry and pensive once more, turning to the Mongol guards and shaking his fist at them.

May the judgement of Allah come swiftly on you infidels! Your perfidious incursion will be halted soon enough when the armies of the righteous ride to the aid of Ghazni!

And on that day your great Khan will feel the cold steel of justice, or the rough judgement of the hangman's rope!

[Quirl]

Whether by sword or by conversion, Allah will be victorious. This is the only thing which gives me comfort in the face of such dire news.

He bows low in a mixture of prayer and grieving for the shah and all the faithful...

[Ramses II CP]

Both Rajput emissaries are at last removed from the Yurt. After some time the first man, looking very much shaken and disturbed, returns and makes an announcement,

The Maharaja...

My leader... has... submitted to the Mongols. India is now a vassal of the Mongol Empire.

I regret that I have no further information to offer you at this time, but please know that I came here in good faith believing fully in our alliance. It is with much regret that I now reveal it's failure.

I must believe the Maharaja will halt at repaying the treachery of Ghazni, so surely if your masters simply avoid Indian armies, fleets, and lands peace can still be had!

Hanging his head low the Rajput diplomat slinks to the back edge of the tent and sits quietly.

[Quirl]

The slave scoffs.

The vassal of a dragon can offer nothing but war, Hindu master. I doubt in this peace you hope for.

[phonicsmonkey]

Zahirridin regards the Hindu ambassador with interest.

Strange, in all my many journeys in your lands I did not detect the note of treachery or cowardice in the people I encountered.

Perhaps Muhammed of Ghor was right all along about these Rajput princes.

Still, I am sure the Caliph has greater concerns than the pathetic collapse of far-off India.

The Ghaznavids will mourn the day that their Hindu neighbours chose to be slaves of the Khan, but their lands will be restored to them in time through the grace of Allah.

[phonicsmonkey]

Zahirridin receives a message and, after reading it quickly, turns to the Hindu once more.

Your Maharajah, it seems, is as false in his words as in his deeds.

Despite his claims that he does not seek war with the Caliphate, his navies have blockaded my masters ports!

In addition, he has attacked his Ghaznavid neighbours, and the Caliph's ancient allies, and besieged their cities!

Surely he must know that he cannot have the peace he claims to seek unless he reverses these actions and offers reparations immediately.

[Quirl]

Though the GhaZim dignitary has been away for several days, a letter from his country arrives and is placed in Zahirridin's hands.

To those who speak on our behalf,

Let it be known that the Hindu prince who besieged Suqutra has been slain, along with his companion and entire army. Also, the GhaZim cities of Turbat and Gwadar remain in Muslim hands. These cities were grossly outnumbered by the infidel. Yet, through cunning and the grace of Allah, the faithful prevailed. May His blessings carry to your own struggles as you deal with the Khan.

Peace be with you,

GhaZim

[phonicsmonkey]

Zahirridin receives a message and reads it, his face darkening as he takes in the bleak news. He turns to the Seljuk and the Mamluk, pointedly ignoring the Hindu traitor.

Brothers, it seems that the proud Sultanate of Ghazni has been reduced to a mere shadow of its former self. The Caliph has granted the remaining Ghaznavid princes leave to make peace with their Hindu and Mongol aggressors.

Dark is this day for Islam when the feet of the infidel tread the lands of the faithful!

[Quirl]

Not too long afterward, the slave also receives a letter. After unfurling and reading it, he speaks...

But he does not tread so freely in the sea. For your slaves have destroyed a large Rajput navy in the south, reducing the enemy fleet to two ships. They have also begun to siege Calula and will take it in the name of the Fourth Caliphate.

[phonicsmonkey]

Some hours ago the Khan's guards had come for Zahirridin and dragged him away. The other captives huddled in the yurt did not believe they would see him again, but towards the evening he is dragged back in, his face bloodied and bruised and his robes torn and dirtied. For a long while he lays gasping on the dirt floor, until the Seljuk takes pity on him and brings him some water to sip. As he slowly regains his composure and the colour returns to his ashen face, he turns to the gathered captives and says, in a rasping voice:

They seemed to believe I had some knowledge of the Caliph's war plans, as though I could be in his mind from here...wherever here is...

I did learn from them that the Cailph's armies had unsuccessfully attempted to retake the city of Birjand.

Also, they boasted that their forces were within reach of Georgia, having made a successful foray along the coast of the Caspian Sea in the face of stern Seljuk opposition.

Friends, this war hangs in the balance - should their forces reach Rayy or Baghdad I fear the resistance will crumble utterly. We must hope that the Caliph and his allies are in command of the situation.

[Quirl]

A letter arrives from Egypt. After it is reviewed by the Mongols, it is passed to the Caliphate's delegation within the Khan's yurt.

Masters of the Caliphate,

Kostantiniyye has been retaken from the Latin Menace. Their forces were completely routed with very little loss on the part of your servants. A diplomat has already begun the process of transferring the city back to Seljuk hands. Varna will fall next season. I am overseeing these operations myself and assure you the Infidels of the West will not aid the Mongol ghūls of the East.

Al-hamdulillāh. Al-hamduliarobyān Al-Khilāfa,

-Alpawit Marsal Yūsuf Ibn Naïm

[SilverShield]

It is early in the morning. After having successfully crushed the defensive lines in the Iranian mountains it is one of the taken forts where the Great Khan’s army still is resting. So are the yurts.


SÄN BÄN UU!!

A man enters the yurt bringing food and drinks to the remaining envoys.

While he is serving the breakfast he starts to talk.

There is good news for you. All of you will soon see your families again. He smiles.

But no… dont worry… I am not talking of meeting them all again in Shangri La. You ll all see them soon again on mother earth. And you wont even have to take this trip alone on your own feet. The yurt will drop each of you there from where he descended. He now laughs out out. Our first stop will be Merv our next stop will be Baghdad and the end of this lovely journey will be the great city of Cairo. He laughs out loud again.

Enjoy the ride.

He then steps out of the yurt leaving the envoys clueless. They seem to not have heard about the rise of the Dominion of the East yet - the uniting of the forces and the will of the Grand Dominator of the North, the Great Khan and the Grand Dominator of the South, the Great Maharaja.

[phonicsmonkey]

Zahiriddin Nasr Muhammad Aufi, appointed by the Caliph to explore the far east and captured by the Mongol horde as they plundered the Silk Road, draws himself up to his full height and with a haughty expression regards his captors with the utmost distaste.

In'shallah I will see the dreaming minarets of mighty Baghdad again - but it will not be at the mercy of the Infidel Khan!

[Quirl]

"Al-hamdulillāh!"

The assembled faithful reply.

[Quirl]

Khaiden stands and walks slowly to the end of the tent. He throws back the curtain and spots the man who had addressed them earlier. He points to him and shouts across the camp.

More and more we ride away with you from the front lines! Where is your boasting?! Where is the drool of your hunger which was just a short while ago so fresh on your beard?! Now, I only see your tail between your legs--your whimpering eyes as you scamper off from al-Khilifa's hordes!

What strength are you gathering?! What time are you biding?! You merely run! You are cowards! And I look forward to the day we finally skewer you!

With that, he closes the tent and heads back inside. No more needs to be said.