Pics & History of your Empire

[ULC]

Battle of Wroclaw Plains

“Are you sure? I cannot believe he would stand against us.”
“ Brother, when have my sources ever been inaccurate? The Polish King shall break the ceasefire next year. You would think the Poles to sit idly by and let their homeland be overrun by the “Czech?” Jindrich smiled his predatory smile, the only thing that could unnerve King Vratislav II. The year was 1102. 13 years of war, 2 years of uneasy peace. The Poles had been isolated to Silesia, and had been building their forces up since then. But they had not attempted to take back any part of their homeland, instead opting for Brandenburg, and to call down the wrath of the Holy Roman Emperor, an ally of the Czech for the last 9 years. Vratislav heaved a heavy sigh, and let the thoughts that so troubled him slip from his mind; The Poles renewing their aggression, the sealing of the alliance with the Hungarians, the war raging in Volhynia with the Cumans, The marriage of his precious daughters to the Rus princes, the 16th birthday of his son Vratislav. All of it weighed down on him.

“ Then prepare the men. If the Poles wish to go to battle, then we shall oblige them.”
“As you will. Shall I inform Lord Jozka to mobilize his unit too?”
“ Yes. Jindrich, to be kind to announce your arrival this time, as it seems that Jozka nearly had a heart attack the last time I sent you.”
“But how else am I to safely practice my skills?”
“On any one but my men, if you would Jindrich.”
“But they are no fun, the comm…”
“ Jindrich, I warning you, I will brook no more disobedience from my spy master. I am sure I can find a worthy replacement.”
Jindrich simply smiles, turns on his heels, and with a flourish exits the throne room.
Vratislav motions to one of his aids.
“Send for my son, I have need to speak with him.”
“Yes my Lord”

Prince Vratislav was at that moment on the practice field, showing off to the ladies of the court his skill with the blade, with Lord Jozka instructing the rest of his men to get back to their training, that Jindrich decided to show up. Again, Lord Jozka reached for his blade while simultaneously making it look as if he was reaching for his heart.
“ King Vratislav wishes to speak with you in the War room Jozka, it seems rather important.”
“Damn you to the devil Jindrich! I’ll have your hide one of these days!”
Jindrich does not reply, but instead turns to Prince Vratislav.
“And your father has also requested your presence”
“ Indeed uncle. Tell my father that I will be along shortly. I need to attend to a few things…” He smiles at the lady of the court as he says this, and they return it with giggles.
“Err, I believe dear prince he means now. Your…personal matters…can be attended to latter.”
“You were always a killjoy uncle. Has it ever occurred to you that my father detests your presence? Maybe you should remove it.”
Clearing his throat, Lord Jozka motions for the prince to follow him, and they depart towards the castle, were the messenger that King Vratislav sent greets them at the entrance, and after a few moments of confusion on the aids part, all depart towards the War room.

“We are here father”, Prince Vratislav announces as he enters the room.
“Good, you received the message I sent.”
“Not exactly, Uncle Jindrich told me of your request.”
Vratislav II stares at his son for a moment, and then mutters to himself something that sounds like “kill that man”.
“What father?”
“Nothing son; Jozka, do you see the map before me?”
“Yes my Lord.”
“What do you see?”
“I see Polish regiments along our border, and German along theirs.”
“Yes, indeed. They are planning to break the ceasefire and attack Prague.”
“You wish me to instead to lead an preemptive strike into their territory? Are the Germans supporting us?”
“Yes, and yes. I see your time in Volhynia has been well spent Lord Jozka.”
“And what of me father?”
“You shall lead Jozkas’ left flank in battle and serve as his eyes and ears. I have little cavalry to spare for the coming battle.”
“And you my Lord?”
“I shall head east, to the aid of the Kievians. It appears Kiev itself is under siege.”
All three men stare at the map solemnly for a moment, and then each in turn leaves to his duty, with the King himself last to leave.

“The men are ready my Lord, and await your command. The Germans say that they too are ready to march.”
“Good, send word to Lord von Luxembourg to begin.”
Lord Jozka surveys the battlefield. In the distance, Wroclaw castle is almost visible beyond the mist and trees. A light breeze blows, enough to carry the arrows but not to sway them from their path.
“My prince, this is your first time in battle I believe, is it not?”
“Yes indeed, and it is good that I serve under one so decorated.”
“You do me an injustice, I have won only because of luck and foolishness on my enemies part.”
“Come now Jozka, don’t be so…”
“Hold prince! The enemy draws neigh! Hurry, to the flank!”
The prince charges off into the mist to his position. Horns blow in the distance, and the German army advances. Stick to the plan, Luxembourg, stick to the plan, is the only thought that enters Jozkas’ mind as his men begin the steady drum roll to begin the march. The Polish army, composed of 5 regiments of Slavic warriors, a small contingent of Horsemen, 2 battalions of spearmen, and 3 units of Royal Knights, easily outnumbers the apparent German/Bohemian forces of 650. But fear can make even the largest of armies run. The Germans charge into the Polish line, and the Polish cavalry immediately move to flank. They are cut down by a hail of arrows, but continue their charge. It proves suicidal, as Prince Vratislav charges out of the mist and strikes them in the rear just as another volley lands home. The Polish cavalry flee into the mist and Prince Vratislav gathers his men to wait for the signal. The Polish line begins to crumble as spearman after spearman falls to Von Luxembourg’s well-trained Men-at-arms, battle hardened from the wars in France, but they hold. Not for long, thinks Jozka. He raises his hand, and hangs there for what seems like an endless moment, and then drops to his side. The Prince charges, and from the mist charge the remaining 400 men of the allied forces on all sides of the Polish army. Panicked, but not defeated, King Wladyslaw rallies his men into a box formation. Surrounded, outnumbered, and outwitted, the Polish continue to fight on till the last man. Finally, the Royal family itself is surrounded and hacked to pieces by the Germans, with no thought of mercy or civility. Luxembourg rides to meet his fellow commander and the crown prince.

“Glorious victory is it not? Your men performed excellently. Long may the alliance endure, for I hope to never meet such fierce men in battle.”
“Yes, indeed, but with out you we could not have won with so few casualties”, replies the Prince.
“Good luck to you Luxembourg, and may we meet again on the battle field to smite our foes.”
“And to you too, Jozka. Relay my thanks to your king. As for my forces, we shall depart for France. It seems that they have need of men in Friesland.”
Both men salute, then turn with their armies and depart the battlefield, leaving behind the carnage of the day.

The Celebration

Tears fill his eyes as he reads the letter. King Vratislav is not an easy man to move, but the 16th birthday of his son Jan is near. Even now he races with all speed to Prague, letter in hand, leaving the care of his army in the capable hands of Lord Rybar.

“Ride my Lord, go to your son. The Cumans dare not attack with our ally Byzantium harassing them to the south. They have not the numbers.”

With the castle in sight, Vratislav II pushes even harder. He may have not been at his sons’ birth, but he would be there for his 16th. How could he forgive himself if he didn’t make it, he did not know, but make it he must.

“Three cheers for Prince Jan, long may he serve!” The crowd roars its approval, clapping and stopping their hands in rhythm as the minstrels begin their music. Prince Vratislav is in the thick of the festivities, dancing, drinking and singing however horribly, but Prince Jan stands apart. An intellectual by nature, Prince Jan is not as boisterous as his elder brother, nor as gregarious.
“Have you heard? My brother Jan wishes to go on campaign, and he’s only just turned sixteen! How brave he must be, isn’t that right brother?”
“Father wishes it, not I. I wish to study with Lord Adlyn, and better myself.”
“But brother you cannot better yourself through books! Live a little brother, instead of staying in that dark room!”
Jan looks at his brother sourly, and Prince Vratislav makes a face of mock hurt, and quickly dances off. Prince Jan downs his wine in one gulp, and begins to march off to the library when the doors to the hall are thrown open. The music stops and everyone looks to see their king, dripping wet from the storm that rages outside.
“Where is my son? Where is my dear son Jan?”
Stunned at the appearance of his father, having expected he would not show, he finally finds his voice. “Here father; I am here.”
Overwhelmed, King Vratislav rushes to his son and hugs him tight.
“Oh it is good to see you! Long have I missed you! Fives years since I last saw you, and in five years you have grown! I hear you have done well in your studies with my chamberlain. How fortunate for you! I myself had no talent for it, but Adlyn says you’re quite the prodigy!” Prince Jan wriggles uneasily in his fathers grip. Vratislav finally notices the crowd, which is stunned at the Kings openness towards his son. He looks at them and says in frank tones, “Was there not a party in motion for my son? Where is the music? The dancing? This is a celebration, not a sideshow! Enjoy yourselves and stop gawking.” The crowd slowly returns to life, having been shocked that their warrior king could possible display such emotions. But one is not, and he knows how best to exploit the Kings' love for his son.

Last installment coming tomorrow. Wait till you see what King Jan does with the Czech Empire!

[Martok]

Very well done, YLC! That was a truly excellent narrative. I'm definitely looking forward to the next installment!

[Bregil the Bowman]

Part Six of an Account of a VI 2.01 campaign as the Almohads

Umar III becomes Khalifah

It was clear that Ibrahim II was dying. The question remained which of his two brothers would seize the crown first, given that Umar, his son, was still a minor. It seemed likely that should either of his uncles come to power, Umar might not live to receive his father’s crown.

Mohammed, the elder, certainly had the stronger claim, and his campaign against the Holy Roman Empire had certain helped to hasten the demise of the Triple Alliance. It had been many years, however, since Mohammed had been tested in battle – indeed not since the years of his father’s reign - whereas Abdullah had played a crucial role in the Baltic campaign and was being hailed as the conqueror of Khazar. Moreover, neither prince had married and even if one could be persuaded to acknowledge the other’s right to rule, the Khalifate might yet fall into chaos upon their deaths.

Ibrahim’s empire stretched from Portugal to Khazar, from Sinai to Sweden. Malta and Sicily remained in Sicilian hands, but otherwise the seas and islands belonged to the Almohad fleet. Denmark and Sicily alone among the Khalifah’s Catholic enemies had survived, largely due to forbearance. Italy and the Papacy also remained, having enjoyed peace with the Berber leadership throughout the past two centuries, as did the Kingdom of Poland which had stretched as far as Brandenburg in the West and Volhynia in the East.

In the East, the People of Novgorod still held their native city and also Lithuania. The rest of the north-east had fragmented into rebel kingdoms following the demise of the Byzantine empire in 1295. The Golden Horde still ruled in Armenia and Georgia. But Asia Minor and the southern steppe now belonged to the Almohads. It seemed that the only threat to the empire was the likelihood that no clear heir would emerge, risking civil war among the ambitious generals.

Prince Mohammed, contemplating this situation, resolved to strengthen his claim with a campaign against the Sicilians. There had been no actual conflict between the two since the fall of Venice in 1265, but the Sicilian king had consistently refused peace terms and denied Muslim ships access to Sicilian ports. The time had come for Mohammed to make his mark.

“If Mohammed wishes to wear a crown, he must conquer Malta,” a soothsayer was rumoured to have told the Prince’s Italian mistress. Whether or not to believe this omen, he was unsure. As a good Muslim, Mohammed publicly rejected the heathen prophecy, but nonetheless he made preparations for an invading force which landed St Paul’s bay in 1300.

The Sicilian garrison prepared to defend the island. As the seat of Sicilian government for a number of years, Malta was well supplied with Royal Knights, supplemented by spearmen, sergeants, militia, archers and crossbowmen. They were well led, well-motivated soldiers, commanded by the able Lord Malatesta.

Mohammed’s army was somewhat larger and included a fairly typical mix of Almohad troop types – Nubian spears from Morocco, Granadian militiamen, Levantine arbalesters, Cyrenaican cavalry, Cordoban Faris, plus a siege train of mortars and demi-cannon.

The battle opened with forces drawn up on opposing slopes, the Sicilians enjoying a considerable height advantage. However, with Mohammed’s guns ready to fire, they quickly abandoned this position and drew back to a patch of woodland out of cannon range. This manoeuvre allowed the Almohads to advance and set up a new battle line on a higher ridgeline close to the Sicilian defences. Mohammed dismissed his gunners, reasoning that they would have no further role to play.

With the Sicilian knights representing the main threat, Mohammed sent out his Faris to harass their lines, with some success. Several times the knights tried to draw the Faris in with a feigned retreat, or drive them off with a feigned charge. Each time, the Faris resisted the attempt, keeping just beyond range and peppering the armoured knights with arrows at every opportunity. Soon the hillside was peppered with dead horses and dying knights. Sicilian patience cracked and two parties of knights mounted an all out pursuit, which drew them into range of the Almohad arbalesters. Hit with a hail of missiles, half of the knights charged the main Almohad body while the rest pursued the fleeing Faris off to the right. A wall of Nubian spears saw off the first group; a counter-charge from the Prince’s bodyguard engaged the second, while the Faris turned at bay. Each fight was fierce, but the knights had the worst of it, and once broken there was no saving them. The pride of Malta fled the field.

Next the Sicilian commander tried to salvage his position by sending forward archers protected by spearmen. Mohammed deployed his fast moving Saharan cavalry against them, one unit drawing away the spearmen while the other threatened the archers, then exchanging roles. Before long the spearmen were caught from the rear as they turned to face another threatened attack, and soon that part of the Sicilian army was routed – though not before they had inflicted casualties on the brave Saharans.

With the last Sicilian units, including Lord Malatesta, skulking in the woods, Mohammed deemed it prudent to unleash his infantry force, led by the Almohad Urban Militia. Hardly a blow was struck before the Sicilians fled, and a bitter pursuit followed through the trees. The Almohads had triumphed again, and Prince Mohammed laid his plans for the siege of Valletta.

As he did so, a messenger from Navarre arrived at the camp with news of the Khalifah’s death. Ibrahim II, frail in mind and body, had at last gone to join his forefathers. Wiping away a brotherly tear, Mohammed ordered that a warship be made ready with all haste, to escort him back to Spain to claim the crown before the news reached Abdullah in Khazar.

“There will be no need,” the messenger intervened. “The Khalifah’s orders are clear. You are to remain here in Malta, to complete the conquest of this island.”

As Mohammed’s face reddened and the veins bulged on his brow, the messenger continued calmly: “His majesty Umar III, may blessings be upon him, congratulates his uncle on a glorious victory. In recognition of his greatness, and of the love his nephew bears him, he awards you this golden crown, recognising you as soon to be the King of Malta.”

The Prince fumed, but there was little he could do. While the uncles had led their armies in pursuit of glory, their nephew had moved quickly in the Spanish court to confirm his inheritance. The two veteran warriors had been outmanoeuvred by a sixteen year old boy.

Abdullah received the news at his camp in Kiev, and smiled. His reward was to be made Amir of Khazar, and he seemed content. Perhaps despite his recent success, he recognised the peril of civil war among the Almohads if Ibrahim’s son was not allowed to claim his throne. While Mohammed had wintessed the destruction of the Holy Roman Empire and the decadent Sicilians, Abdullah still faced a dangerous Mongol army that should not be underestimated. Moreover, he was separated from the Almohad homelands by the neutral but powerful Kingdom of Poland, poised to exploit any weakness in the Almohad defences. He might have taken his chance against an usurper had Mohammed claimed the throne, but Abdullah knew better than to challenge the rightful heir with so many enemies at his back.

So it was that Umar III became Khalifah in the year 1300.

[Bregil the Bowman]

(Author’s note: this sequence was inspired by the necessity of saving and quitting the game before resolving battles at Smolensk, Peryslavl, Volga-Bulgaria and Malta. In each case when I exited the turn the Khalifah died and his son disappeared from the reckoning. But in each case when I reloaded the game, the Khalifah was spared for another year. I therefore assumed thathe was suffering ill-health, and that Mohammed had laid plans to seize the throne whenever he should die. In the event, he survived long enough to allow his son Umar to take his place – not only that, but a much improved version of Umar with a high command rating and the “Hard Sums” virtue – clearly a young man to be reckoned with!)

[bamff]

I must say that both Bregil's Almo campaign and YLC's Bohemian have been two of the best reads, IMHO.

Well done, both!

[Martok]

Indeed. In fact, I think you may be facing some genuine competition, bamff. Between those two and CountMRVHS' Welsh campaign, I'd say we're witnessing the emergence of some truly superb storytellers.

[bamff]

And lest we forget, Innocentius Polish campaign is also a ripper, and King Kurt's ongoing Teutonic Order campaign!
Truly my lords and ladies, the words spoken by Lord Martok were no jest - we live in a golden age of scribes, and I am truly honoured to have been mentioned in such company!

[Innocentius]

As for YLC and Innocentius, I find it interesting that you guys are playing neighbouring factions (and that you're at war with each other in YLC's). I don't know that I've really seen that before.

Well, now there's a war between Poland and Bohemia in my campaign as well

400th post and here goes:

The reign of King Kazimierz II The Great: 1175 - 1218 A.D.

Kazimierz hardly resembled his father in any way. King Leszek had been a mad man, but a kind and understanding one, as long as his dreams and imaginary friends (including his personal favourite at court; the Lithuanian bear) didn't tell him to do otherwise. Much of the administration of Poland had been handled by the king's brother, Prince Konrad and it was he who was responsible for the upbringing of the young Prince Kazimierz.
Already from a young age Kazimierz showed to have a fierce temper and would not hesitate to use violence to work his will through. He also tended to beat up his younger brother Wladyslaw, being the stronger and older of the two. This however lead to no hostilities between the brothers as they grew up and they would in fact look back and remember it later on, laughing at their own childish behaviour.
It was probably his hot-headedness and desire for war that lead Kazimierz to all the great achievements he accomplished during his long life and reign, and he is remembered in history as King Kazimierz the Great.

When Kazimierz ascended to the throne at the age of 30 he became King of Poland during its golden years. Poland was wealthy and at peace and had been so for the past 20 years and more. Although the good years continued throughout Kazimierz' reign his heavy investments in the army slowly drained the treasuries of Poland and although it would not suffer, a slight economic decline began with the crowning of King Kazimierz.
Despite Kazimierz' desire for war, peace remained for several years as Poland was surrounded by powerful kingdoms that could not easily be overthrown and conquered. In the late 1170-ies however, the Fatamid Khalifah began to fall apart. The capture of Egypt by the Catholic Sicilians and the conquest of all the Fatamid homelands by the eastern Turks known as the Seljuks triggered a civil war in the Fatamid possessions in the Balkans. The weak remnants of what was once the Byzantine Empire exploited this weakness and retook the lands of Moldavia, Wallachia and Bulgaria. Temporarily reaching a size worthy of an empire.
Kazimierz himself was not late to exploit this either. Also, fighting against the heathens his father had so easy-goingly allied with to save his kingdom would indeed be something that would please the Pope down in Rome. Kazimierz now quickly recruited an impressive army, and marched down into Hungary from Lesser Poland in the spring of 1183. The Fatamids who suffered dearly from their civil war and their unsuccessful wars with the Byzantines could do nothing and were forced to retreat, only leaving token garrisons to hold out throughout Hungary.
King Kazimierz immediately began to throw the Fatamids out by castle by castle driving them out. He even sent words to Poland to invite burghers and impoverished farmers and beggars to come south into Hungary to settle there and repopulate the lands where the war had taken its toll. He was too hasty in this however, and his success was short-lasted as a massive Fatamid army was gathered by the Khalif himself in Croatia and Serbia and marched into Hungary already in 1184.

The Battle of Mohács

As soon as Kazimierz heard of this he rallied his army, abandoned the multiple sieges it was involved it and hurried south. At the village of Mohács, south of the Danube he caught up with the Fatamid army.
The Khalif soon learned about the Hungarian presence and prepared his army for attack. Kazimierz responded to this by retreating to a great hill nearby, where he safely positioned his entire army. The Khalif's men approached, their archers, far away from their homes in Egypt, first. Long before they were close enough to reach the Poles, hails of Polish arrows rained down upon them. Thus began the Battle of Mohács.
The archery duel was brief and worked mainly in the benefit for the Poles. The Fatamid army outnumbered them severely, but the height advantage gave their archers a chance to even out the numbers a bit. The Khalif however soon grew impatient and ordered his entire army forth, focusing at the Polish centre. "A breakthrough in the centre would be disastrous for the Polish, allowing my men to reach the soft core of their army" the Khalif thought. But in the end it was he who paid for this tactic.
The Fatamid troops fought with great discipline and skill, unheard of by the Polish, and a breakthrough really was near at times, but then disaster struck for the Fatamids. Suddenly, the Khalif fell silently from his horse, dead; struck by a bolt from the Polish mounted crossbowmen.
With this, Kazimierz ordered his flanks to encircle the enemy. He and his knights and their retainers rode around the back of the enemy, engaging a tired and disorientated unit of Ghulams to thereafter attack the main army from behind. Everything went as planned, but even in the bitter end the Saracen infantry fought with such discipline and stoutness that the Poles themselves wavered at times. Their bravery was simply unbelievable!
In the end however, there was little that the encircled Fatamids could do, and they broke and fled, hunted down by the Polish knights and mounted crossbowmen. The battle was won.
The Fatamids who were taken prisoners were quickly ransomed back by an Emir acting in the name of the new Khalif, who was currently occupied trying to reclaim Bulgaria from the Byzantines. Among the prisoners were many fine generals who made a pretty penny for the Polish.


Notes: I couldn't resist letting the Catholics beat a Muslim army at Mohács =P

The year 1184 saw further reason for celebration for the Polish, as Prince Casimir came of age in that year, and his birthday was celebrated with great splendour back in Krakow.
The war was not over yet however as many of the token garrisons left throughout Hungary in 1183 remained, and it would take two years for Kazimierz to drive them all out. On April 26, 1186 Esztergom Castle, the last Fatamid stronghold in Hungary, fell to his troops. Soon thereafter he signed a peace-treaty with the Khalif in Bulgaria, which was now once again the hands of the Muslims.
Good years followed. The feast for the wedding between Prince Casimir and Princess Klementine of Germany in 1192 is considered one of the greatest feasts in Polish early medieval history and the festivities went on for an entire weak in Krakow. During this weak, it is said that no one in Krakow except perhaps the youngest children were sober enough to even stand. If this is true is debatable though, as splendid tourneys took place in which Casimir himself participated.
During these peaceful years Kazimierz in secret forged a plan however. A plan of war to make himself master of the Dnepr and the east. In secret he allied with his former enemies the Fatamids - who were desperate for allies in their dire position - and thus cancelled his alliance with the "Byzantine" (rather Levidian) Emperor. In 1195 he invaded Carpathia while Prince Casimir marched with another army into the lands of Moldavia.
In Moldavia the Byzantines realised that their inferior numbers made victory impossible and retreated back into Levidia. In Carpathia however a battle stood. The Fatamids, the Khalif himself, now actually helped the Polish and sent an army into Carpathia hoping to claim some glory for themselves. This was a dire mistake however as they foolishly attacked the Byzantine army while Kazimierz was still organising his. The Fatamids were routed and slaughtered and their Khalif barely got away with his head still on. This made the battle all the more simple for Kazimierz however as the Byzantine forces were now tired, decimated and separated as some of them were still chasing the fleeing Fatamids. He charged head on with his men and personally slew many that day.
Shortly after the battle, the now highly self-confident Kazimierz claimed: "Surely I am know the only King on Earth who has beaten both a Khalif and an Emperor!".

The battle was easily won and the few survivors figured it was best to leave the lands, having heard of the great siege techniques deployed by Kazimierz in Hungary. Emperor Alexius III was in such a pathetic state that he dared not even send an emissary to ransom the prisoners, fearing that the Poles might somehow hurt him in that way. As no ransom was paid, the prisoners were slain, to the great amusement of the King.

The Battle for Carpathia:


Kazimierz did not settle with this, and continued his conquest by sending his son Casimir and his brother Wladyslaw into Levidia the next year. The terrified and pitiful Alexius ran like a whipped dog, retreating to the Crimea. Thus ended the Byzantine-Polish wars, the Byzantines being utterly crushed and robbed of all glory. Alexius died soon thereafter, refusing a truce into the very last.

A long period of peace now followed after these great successes. Some said this was the second golden age of Poland, but truly, the golden age had never ceased to be.
In 1205 King Kazimierz' second son Leszek celebrated his sixteenth birthday and his younger brother Henry, named in English manner, celebrated his in 1206. These were both great banquets and Poland was now regarded as the most civilised kingdom in all of Christendom. Even fashion, which usually was determined by what the Italians or French wore, now originated in Poland and all kingdoms in Europe, apart from perhaps from the Crown of Castille and Leon attempted to imitate the Polish and copied their manners and customs. Truly, Poland, along with Castille-Leon was now the centre for Christian civilisation.
But during these years Kazimierz always longed for war. He was growing old, he knew that and felt it too. He deeply desired to ride to war one last time during his life. He again wanted to taste blood (in Carpathia and Moldavia there were rumours of him being a vampire, feasting on the blood of the men he slew) and wished for a last chance for glory. In 1216, his chance came.

The old Bishop Leszek Buczak who, thirty years ago, had persuaded the King of Castille and Leon into an alliance was found murdered with the murderer still in the room! Apparently too shocked by his own horrible deed, he had been unable to leave the spot and was found staring at the body of the poor old bishop.
Questioning soon revealed that the man was a Moravian and in the service of the King of Bohemia. The culprit was hanged like any common thief, and King Kazimierz soon declared war upon the Kingdom of Bohemia.

The Battle of Letovice:

In the early autumn of 1217 a massive Polish army crossed the Bohemian border. The Bohemians were prepared, but not for this. Allies for so long, they had expected this war to be over within a month or two, probably resulting in nothing, but Kazimierz was a man who meant business. Instead of the minor border raid that the Bohemians had prepared for a simply huge Polish army crossed from Lesser Poland. The overwhelmed Bohemians realised their only way of surviving was by running away, and so they did to their eternal shame. Kazimierz did not blame them however, he too would have fled for such a superior force. Bloodthirsty he was, but not foolish.

Of course, the Bohemians would not allow their homelands and capital to be lost so easily and Prince Spytihev returned with an army outnumbering the Polish army with 5:3. Outside the little village of Letovice the two armies met on July 2, 1218.
Kazimierz brought with him fewer troops than the Bohemians, but his troops were equipped with the latest armour and weapons and he even had a few troops yet untested in warfare: three regiments of crossbowmen and two regiments of pole-arm wielding dismounted knights.
The Bohemians bravely approached the slight slope between to woods where the Poles were positioned in their traditional defensive manner: spearmen up front and archers (or this time crossbowmen) behind with swordsmen on the flanks. The famous Bohemian bowmen marched up and indeed they inflicted the heaviest casualties on the Polish of all Bohemian troops that day, but they were no match for the Polish crossbowmen. Disaster struck the Bohemians already at an early stage as Prince Spytihev was killed by the Polish crossbowmen. Despite the fall of their leader, the Bohemians kept on coming against the Polish position.
Soon the crossbowmen ran out of bolts and withdrew. Instead Kazimierz called for the knights he held in reserve to help him fend off the enemy archers. The battle raged on for hours with casualties mounting on each side. The Bohemians always marched into the semi-circular trap set up by the Poles. Once they were in the trap, the Polish cavalry rode down their archers without mercy while the Polish infantry engaged the Bohemian spearmen, sergeants and militiamen to prevent them from aiding their friends. This worked perfectly, and wave after wave of Bohemian reinforcements was broken and driven back. The two generals Sir Godzimir Puch and Sir Przemyslaw Sochaczew showed great bravery in this battle and were responsible for a lot of casualties on the Bohemian side.
In the end, the Bohemians gave up and retreated (or fled, some say), leaving the Polish as victors once again. July 2 1218 would always be remembered as a black day in Bohemian history. The ravens circling over the battlefield in the evening sky that night were beyond counting.
The prisoners taken that day were simply too many for the Polish to handle and Kazimierz rather had them executed than rebelling, adding another massacre to that on the battlefield. For this cruel deed he was hated by all Bohemia.



Shortly after the battle King Kazimierz II died peacefully in his bed, out of age it is said. He died a happy man, having achieved a final great deed in his long life, defeating the Bohemians in such a battle as had never been witnessed by anyone before. He never got to see the end of the Bohemian wars, but had full confidence in his sons to finish what he had started. For his great deeds as well as his body figure he was remembered in Polish history as King Kazimierz the Great.
Prince Casimir would have succeeded him as King, but preferred to let the crown go to his much younger brother Leszek, who was crowned King Leszek II of all Poland, Lithuania, Hungary, Levidia, Lord of Kiev in late 1218 at the age of 29.

The Kingdom of Poland in 1218:


King Leszek II:

[Martok]

Brave, Innocentius; another excellent narrative! You had some very nice battles in there, and my congratulations on your victories. My compliments as well on using the muder of poor Bishop Leszek Buczak as casus belli for war against the Bohemians -- that was a nice touch.

By the way, I just have ask: What the heck is up with the Seljuks becoming a superpower?? Is that pretty common for them in your campaigns, or is it more of an anomaly?

[Innocentius]

Brave, Innocentius; another excellent narrative! You had some very nice battles in there, and my congratulations on your victories. My compliments as well on using the muder of poor Bishop Leszek Buczak as casus belli for war against the Bohemians -- that was a nice touch.

By the way, I just have ask: What the heck is up with the Seljuks becoming a superpower?? Is that pretty common for them in your campaigns, or is it more of an anomaly?

The Seljuks becoming that big is something I've never seen before. It's pure luck actually. The Byz got kicked out of Anatolia and the Balkans by the Eggies while they were busy fighting the Cumans. The Eggies then continued to fight on the Balkans, pretty much abandoning their homelands. The Sicilian fleet then destroyed their fleet and cut them off and defeated their main armies in a series of battles i Egypt ans Cyrenaica. Then the Seljuks just mopped up the rest.
With the the rich provinces in Anatolia and the Levant they had enough money to steamroll the Volga-Bulgars who were seriously weakened by several wars at once (first against Novgorod and Kiev, then against Sweden and Denmark that briefly re-emerged in Finland). So basically they exploited the weakness of others. They might have over-grown though, but if they don't collaps from civil war or from an unwise attack on me the Horde will deal with them.

Me, I'm going to try and get myself a ceasefire with the Bohemians once Bohemia falls (and probably after a battle or two, they still have pretty large stacks) and then start preparing for the Horde (as I don't own Khazar this won't be gamey, once I notice the Horde I will send reinforcement to bolster my defences).

[bamff]

Bamff’s Aragonese Escapade

Chapter 5 – Conquest in the East (1190 - 1200)

Treachery at Court
The Lord Chamberlain’s frustration was clear.

“No, my lord, no. The time is right to seek peace with Egypt. To this end we must decrease our forces in Cyrenaica as a sign of our good faith.”

“Don Felipe, I trust you recall which of us wears the crown. The Egyptian Sultan – what is the man’s name? Ah yes, Baybars…He has refused all offers of a ceasefire thus far. In any case, we fight for more than Aragon. This war is the crucifix against the crescent, Christianity against the Muslim.” King Fernando spoke the words tolerantly, but his patience was wearing thin. The evidence of Lord Mendez’s disloyalty had been mounting steadily over recent years, and now here he was, suggesting a withdrawal of Aragonese troops from Cyrenaica, a move which would leave it open to Egyptian invasion.

“Yes, my lord, it is you who wears the crown. You were placed on the throne by birth, but you remain there through MY good counsel. Do not be show yourself to be the fool that you are, you know I am right.” Mendez realised, even as he spat out these words that he had gone too far. No matter, he would simply have to advance the timing of his plans, he reasoned.

Fernando’s voice was as cold as the waters from a Pyrenees spring when he spoke.

“Lord Chamberlain you overstep your mark. It is you who hold your post by virtue of MY good grace. Were you not my second cousin, you would have vacated your post some years hence, and indeed it is that connection which will now save you from facing a charge of treason….but you leave me with no option. You are officially stripped of the titles of Duke of Aragon and Lord Chamberlain. Leave me – and never darken my sight again.”

Mendez bowed, then abruptly turned on his heel and marched from the chamber.

As he left, Felipe Mendoza, the Aragonese spymaster, stepped from behind a tapestry which adorned the western wall of the chamber.

“You are certain that he will make his move within the month?” queried the Aragonese king.

“Indeed, my lord, I would warrant that he will now accelerate his plans.”

“And your men have the others under close scrutiny?”

“All conspirators will be in custody or in their graves as soon as you will it, my lord.”

“It pains me to have to take such action, but it is for the good of Aragon. I cannot brook any treachery, especially whilst we are without an heir to the throne. Contact Don Ruy Pacheco. He should ahhh…’meet’ with Lord Mendez as soon as is possible.”

The mere mention of Pacheco caused Mendoza to suffer an involuntary shiver. The man was the most feared assassin in all of Aragon. He was unnaturally skilled in his dark art, and completely devoid of emotion. One could not tell whether Pacheco drew any satisfaction from his grim trade, but he was most certainly effective.

“As you will it, my lord.” Mendoza bowed, and scurried off to convey the King’s orders.

Some hours later, Lord Mendez was still raging in his family stronghold.

“To think, that fool Fernando should think he could dismiss ME! I made him, and I will destroy him! I will make a far greater King of Aragon! Was it not I that taught him the value of a well placed bribe? The importance of diplomacy when required? The use of military strength? The…”

“Use of the assassin’s blade, and how to avoid it?”

“Yes, yes, that too…who are you, and what are doing in my…” Mendez’s last query trailed off as the colour drained from his face. The goblet that had been held in his right hand clattered to the floor as though his fingers had suddenly lost all sensation, all function.

“P-P-Pacheco?” he stammered, then grunted as the blade slid between his ribs. He gasped for air, clutching at his gory robes as the knife was withdrawn then thrust once more deep into his chest. He coughed twice as he fell to his knees. Pacheco stepped around behind his victim, and grabbed a handful of his hair.

“Should have paid more attention to your own lesson then, shouldn’t you – my lord?” the assassin’s question was laced with sarcasm. Mendez could only manage a guttural sob in response, before Pacheco drew his blade across the traitor’s throat. Pacheco then calmly knelt beside his victim. He examined Mendez body for a moment, ensuring that his target was indeed dead, then wiped his blade clean on Mendez’s tunic.

The following morning, the broken bodies of a dozen traitors were placed upon the castle walls, with Lord Mendez having pride of place nearest the gate. King Fernando appointed Lord de Molina as Duke of Aragon and Lord Chamberlain.

“I apologise that it has taken us so long to bring you to this post, old friend,” Fernando confided, “but we had to bring the traitor out into the open first. Now, what news on our plans?”

“Our forces have advanced into Egypt and the Sinai, my Lord. The army moving into Sinai is led by Don Pedro Berenguer. My own cousin, Don Pedro de Molina leads our forces into Egypt.”

“Excellent, excellent. I look forward to hearing of our successes.”

The Battle of El Arish
Don Pedro Berenguer surveyed the mountains that dominated the landscape near the coastal township of El Arish.

“That is where I would be, were I defending.” He noted to his lieutenant, Don Diego Diaz de Haro, a fellow Knight of Santiago.

“Agreed my lord. Perhaps I should take my squadron higher up the slope to determine the muslim’s position?”

“Yes. I will bring our main body up the slope to this position. By the time we reach the crest, you should have had ample time to identify the Egyptian dispositions.”

Intelligence gained by Felipe Mendoza’s men indicated that the Aragonese were up against a force commanded by Sultan Baybars II himself, and including both Prince el Adil and the legendary Amir abu Ma’mum, the man credited with almost single handedly destroying a French crusade aimed at Tripoli the preceding year.

As the Aragonese troops reached the crest, the Egyptian force came into view. The two armies appeared very similar in size.

“What is he doing?” asked an incredulous Berenguer as he watched the Egyptian force.

Sultan Baybars II was clearly not a battlefield leader. The Egyptian force wheeled and turned and then turned again as the Sultan continually changed his mind on the question of where best to position himself to face the Aragonese attack. Eventually, the strain of the constant relocations, and the obvious complete indecision of Baybars caused several Egyptian units to turn and ride away from the field. A cascade effect was then triggered, as the Egyptian units, seeing their comrades withdraw, and their Sultan continue to dither, each wheeled and retire from the field. Berenguer’s men were left alone on the field, victorious, but mightily confused as to what had just happened.

The Battle of Sidi Barrani
As Berenguer’s army celebrated its bizarre victory in the Sinai, a second Aragonese army was advancing into battle at Sidi Barrani in Egypt.

This army was led by Don Pedro de Molina, a wily tactician indeed. De Molina’s army included some unusual units, all of which could trace their origins back to Aragonese crusades against the Almohads some years previous. Whilst many Aragonese commanders would tend to ignore the effectiveness of such units, de Molina was known as a man who would embrace the unconventional. As a consequence, he would make very good use indeed of such units as Steppe Heavy Cavalry, Mounted Crossbowmen, Irish Horsemen, and Dhruzina Infantry.

“The Egyptian artillery is our primary obstacle” de Molina began as his captains drew near, “but I have a plan which will overcome this problem. Moreover, the Egyptian general has kindly disposed his forces in a manner most conducive to the success of this plan.”

Indeed, al Adil abu Inan had positioned the bulk of his army well to the rear of his artillery units. Possibly he was seeking to gain the advantage offered by occupying slightly higher ground. Don Pedro de Molina ordered the steppe heavy cavalry and mounted crossbows to advance on the Egyptian right flank, and the Irish horsemen on the left. Upon reaching their designated positions, the mounted crossbows and Irish horse reverted to their secondary role – light cavalry. They swept down upon the hapless Egyptian artillery, bringing with them panic, destruction and death.

The Egyptians reacted quickly, with units of desert archers and Nubian spearmen moveing forward to engage the Aragonese units. As Don Pedro de Molina watched the Egyptian line unfold from the centre, a smile spread across his weathered face.


The Egyptian forces divide


The Aragonese advance in good order

“Perfect.” He raised his sword, then thrust it toward the broken Egyptian line. With a rousing cry of “Santiago!” the Aragonese army advanced.
With the Egyptian forces spread all over the field, they could offer little in the way of coherent resistance, and though they fought bravely, they were steadily forced back. In the thick of the fighting, al Adil abu Inan was cut down, and his death broke the spirit of much of the Egyptian force. As the Aragonese regrouped atop the hillock, their hearts momentarily sank. Hordes of Egyptian reinforcements were advancing in good order, ready to avenge their fallen comrades.

Don Pedro de Molina surveyed his men grimly. He knew that his supply lines were stretched perilously thin, and that consequently it would be quite some time before any reinforcements were to hand. He also knew that any attempt to withdraw now would be tantamount to suicide with such numbers of Bedouin camel warriors, Ghulam cavalry, and Saharan cavalry so near. The eyes of his men were upon him, some clearly unnerved by the size of the advancing Egyptian force. Defiantly he raised his sword “For Aragon and for Christendom!” he shouted.

As the first Egyptian counterattack was repelled, a second wave was sighted advancing across the desert. With his own reinforcements still far away, and his men tiring fast, grim necessity forced his hand, and he gave the order to despatch the enemy prisoners taken thus far. The surviving Dhruzina infantry carried out the order with some relish.

The second Egyptian counterattack was dealt with as was the first, and a third attack was similarly repelled. The Egyptian casualties were steadily mounting. But so were those of the Aragonese, and still the reinforcements had not made their way across the burning desert sands. The first two units of reinforcements arrived just as did the fourth Egyptian counterattack, and the sight of these units joining the line was enough to see the Egyptians break off their attack and flee the field. 1,552 Egyptian and 528 Aragonese corpses lay strewn across the sand. The surviving Aragonese troops were utterly exhausted, but the sight of the fleeing Egyptians energized them sufficiently to raise a rousing cheer for their general. Victory to Aragon had been won!


Tons of Camel meat - it's enough to make Mithrandir cry


Victory!

France on the Offensive Again
In 1190, the French war machine once again slipped into gear, with French armies storming into the English provinces of Scotland, Mercia, Wales, and Wessex. The English manage to hold in Wales alone.

This was indeed a curious victory. The English chose to make their stand near the small welsh township of Llanfairpwllgwyngllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch. French commanders, in attempting to direct their troops to the field are sorely afflicted with tongue cramps. Those that manage to successfully impart the information to their men take so long in making their way through the name of their destination that very few Frenchmen arrive in time for the battle. Consequently the English emerge victorious, but even this victory is tainted – the English garrison is so weakened in the battle that the Welsh seize the opportunity to rise up the following year under the inspired leadership of Sir William Marshall.

It is not all grim news for the English in 1191, however. Forces from Northumbria travel south to relieve the siege in Mercia. In 1192, these same English forces reclaim Wessex from the French.

In 1193, the French are brought to account for their latest offensive, as Pope Gregory IX excommunicates them for their aggression against a fellow Catholic faction.

Barely two years later, King Phillipe is dead, and with no heir to the throne (there had long been many unfortunate rumours of the French Monarch’s preference for the company of “pretty young boys”), the former kingdom of France dissolves into a series of independent states.

Antioch & Tripoli
In 1193, Pope Gregory had given his Papal blessing to an Aragonese crusade aimed at the Egyptian province of Antioch. The crusaders duly arrive in Antioch in 1195. Their arrival causes terror in the local populace, and the Egyptian forces withdraw immediately to their stronghold without so much as loosing a single arrow.

Prince Ferdinand leads a strong Aragonese force into Tripoli that same year, with a very similar result. The Egyptian forces again retreat to their stronghold rather than facing their invaders in battle.

Within two years, both castles fall, and Antioch and Tripoli become parts of the growing Aragonese Empire.

Lord de Molina reads the news aloud at court “Our Army has crushed the last vestiges of resistance in Tripoli, and our brave Crusaders have taken Antioch. It is a Glorious Achievement indeed!”

“No my dear Lord Chancellor. Had we taken Antioch 22 years ago, it would have been truly a glorious achievement. Do not misunderstand me, this conquest is still a memorable and worthy victory, and we are most pleased to include the provinces of Tripoli and Antioch into the realm of Aragon.”

Foreign Developments
The Norwegian flag is once again unfurled in 1198, as a group of loyalists seize the formerly French province of Saxony. King Fernando sends an emissary to investigate the strength of the newly reborn faction, to determine whether it is worthy of being offered an alliance.

The Maltese, inspired no doubt by the new found freedom of the French provinces as well as the impressive oratory of Vitale Giuliani rise up against their Sicilian masters in 1199.

Lord de Molina asks the king whether Aragon should send aid to aid the Sicilians, long an ally of Aragon.

“We do have troops available in sufficient number and ability to crush the Maltese army. They could be in Malta within the month.”

“True, true,” agreed King Fernando “However, were we to send them NOW, our cousins the Sicilians would retain Malta….whereas if we delay our move we may find ourselves in a position to be….rewarded for our efforts. By all means, send orders for the troops to ready themselves. I will give the order to sail when it is appropriate.”

“As you will, my Lord” smiled Lord de Molina, before bowing and retiring.




State of the world in the year 1200. Note the stack in Burgundy that is rebel in one pic and Genoese in the next. The Genoese are in the process of bribing their way into Burgundy!


Previous Chapters of This Campaign
Chapter 4 - https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showpo...postcount=1039
Chapter 3 - https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showpo...postcount=1033
Chapter 2 - https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showpo...postcount=1014
Chapter 1 - https://forums.totalwar.org/vb/showpo...postcount=1000

[The Unknown Guy]

SHADOW OF THE EMPEROR
a pocket mod Holy Roman Empire Campaign



Episode I: Emperor Conrad II and the destruction of Denmark

Conrad II wiped the sweat off his brow, as he examined the battle aftermath. Back on his camp, his petty court of sycophants was feasting on boar and wine, but it was his opinion that a man should always be fully aware of the conseçuences of his deeds, lest self-deception lead him away from the path of rightneousness.

After being elected as Emperor, Conrad had made it his personal cause to make the Empire safe for all pious men, and started a series of agrarian reforms, aimed to achieve a prosperous state of well-being worthy of the original Romans.

The first step in this had been building a series of garrisoned forts, to prevent skirmishes from neighbouring kingdoms into an altogether too wide front.

The second step was the annexion of the domains of the self-styled "King" of Denmark. For a long time this rebellious region had defied imperial power. Not anymore. After ensuing the safety of his borders, the Emperor had marched north with his forces, raising milita levees along the way to finish this danger in the northern imperial domains.

Upon reaching their intended target, they were met by the King´s army. Apparently his rival´s intentions had been to lure Conrad´s armies into a trap in the forest, sending his forces there, while he and his firstborn stayed behind, no doubt hoping to charge at the rear of the Emperor´s army while engaging his main host.

His treacherousness had been his downfall. His distance from his men effectively allowed Conrad to drive his german levees between the Danish monarch and his forces, allowing him first to annihilate them separatedly. The King himself, a fool and treacherous villain to the end, had fallen along with his son when he was rounded up along his song by a host of peasants and plebeians eçuipped with makeshift poleaxes, which dragged him to the ground and hacked them to pieces.

After that, his demoralized army, despite being surprisingly well eçuipped, had been easy to lure out of the woods where they lurked, and annihilated by subseçuent assaults by the imperial forces, among which were a considerable number of exiled norsemen, who had sworn fealty to the Emperor. "They fought bravely" thought Conrad, and immediatedly decided that their leader should receive the title of the new Imperial duchy of Denmark"

He dismounted to check his horse for wounds. In the final stages of the battle, a body of axe-wielding danes, the fiercest and most loyal to the dead king, had been particularily hard to fall. It had reçuired several charges from the Emperor himself to finally break and drive them off the field

[TBC]

[Innocentius]

Great campaigns everyone! It has been long since there was a HRE-campaign here

Martok: You wondered about the Turks? Well... Their Sultan died:

1219:


1220




I'll post a write-up of the reign of King Leszek II within short (plenty of battles against the Horde recently).

[Deus ret.]

Impressive collapse indeed! A really unglamorous end for such a large empire.

Btw what happened to the Sicilians in the same turn? Suddenly they're down to only 3 provinces!

[Martok]

@ bamff & The Unknown Guy: Awesome campaigns, guys. I'm looking forward to more (as always!).

@ Innocentius: Yeah, I saw that in the other thread. That's a real shame for the Turks -- a pity they didn't have a general who still had some royal blood in him.

[The Unknown Guy]

I got into so much trouble that I don´t even know how to continue the AAR properly. It would go around these lines

- The following years were somewhat peaceful, if odd. Conrad II kept on pushing into Scandinavia, but died in his sleep before his conçuests were carried on. It was his son, Conrad III, who finally ended his conçuest campaigns, conçuering Norway.
Conrad III was not blind to the strategic possibilities of those frozen lands. Immediatedly he commissioned the building of a series of castles in the area. His plan involved the eventual commission of a huge fortress in the Norwegian coast, overlooking the Maëlstrom. But he died before even the core of that upcoming fortress was finished, and with him died the peace that had held for years.

A coalition led by the Italian Doge and the King of France struck simultaneously at the Empire through two fronts. While initial assaults were repelled, eventually the new emperor was forced to give ground in Lorraine. Furthermore, the Papacy issued a bull forbidding the Emperor to lash back under pain of excommunication. Confused, and befuddled, the Emperor limited himself to hold the papacy-backed-French at bay, while he continued with his brother´s plans of making Saxony, Brandenburg, and Scandinavia, the core of the Empire, while launching levees at the southern Italians. For years the war remained static. The French attempted over and over to cross the river into Burgundy, but got repelled every time, whereas the Italians eventually managed to conçuer Tyrolia.
Things took a turn, however, with the fall of Genoa and Milan to enraged Provenzal militias. Knowing his moment had come, the Emperor allowed his forces there to plunder at will, knowing that, even in the event of a successful counterattack, it would prevent the Doge to rebuild the infrastructure and fortifications in time to oppose him. This move utterly crushed Italian hopes. His newly conçuered province of Tyrolia revolted against their new masters, and pledged allegiance to the true Emperor of the Romans, and half the Venetian garrison guarding the doge revolted against their master, who had pulled them into a hopeles war. Meanwhile, he defied papal commands by sending one of his sons into Lorraine, along with several sergeants, and around two thousand slavic warriors levees from the far east.

The mission was not one of conçuest. Both the Emperor and his son knew that, while numerous, his slavic levees were poorly eçuipped and motivated. Rather, the prince´s outright purpose was to deal as much damage as possible, no matter the cost, so that armies which were already mobilizing from the east and north of the Empire could take their places and achieve the actual, desired victory. He was successful in this goal, althrough losses were plentiful, even more plentiful than planned beforehand. After several pincer movements annihilated several divisions of French archers, which had hoped to ambush the incoming forces from the relative security of a forest, and the destruction of several sergeants and militia guards which had entered the prince´s own ambush in a village set in a valley, things started to go wrong. The French rallied, mustered their forces around their artillery, and called in their cavalry. Prince Frederick and his sergeants, while trying to cut their way through hordes of French spearmen and the personal bodyguard of a close relative of the French king to reach and destroy their ballistas, had to retreat after his supporting slavic warrior force was broken and routed by French cavalry. Even worse, his own retreat, while organized at first, became chaotic after the cavalry turned away from the retreating levies, and pinced Frederick´s sergeants.
Casualties were plentiful, twelve hundred against half their number of french soldiers. But most of them were among the levies, and were easiliy replaceable, and while the sergeants had suffered losses, the damage was not terminal. The following year the reinforcements arrived, and a new strike force led by another sibling of the Emperor, Heinrich, who forced the French to retreat to their King´s side in Paris, returning Lorraine to their former masters, and leaving Champagne utterly unguarded. That same year, the Emperor died, and the nobles, in a strange twist, chose his younger son Lothair, a charismatic yet prideful man, as the successor, over his two older brothers and his decrepit uncle. It was widely believed the papacy had had a hand in this, for the excommunication was rescinded. If they hoped that this would mean that Lothair would forget the French offenses, the Church hierarchy was going to to be heavily disappointed. Upon reaching the throne, Lothair started plotting the plunder of the peaceful city of Champagne, nominally under French rule, but left undefended because of their current king´s blunders, and prepared a simmilar move against the Duchy of Tolouse, drained of manpower by the prostracted war, while he looked covetously at the infighting in the trader´s city of Venice, knowing that, no matter what side was victorious, their hold of the city was not to be long-lived...

...and while Emperor Lothair plotted, unknown to him, a threat rose in the East, personalized in a man who took serious offense at the sight of a barbarian styling himself "Roman Emperor". A man belonging to an ancient, cunning, and long-memoried dynasty, that had already annihilated the Seljulk tribes in Asia Minor, and was already committed to a long and expensive campign aimed at throwing the Ayubbid Sultans out of Egypt. But expenses meant little to this man.

Slightly annoyed, the Emperor of Constantinople motioned his personal slaves to warm water for his personal pool, while surveyed a map of Europe and pondered whether to leave this "pretender" Lothair aside for the moment, or make an example of him to those who would attempted to defy the true heir of the Caesars.

[ULC]

THE VERY LONG awaited sequal to part two. Sorry about the false date guys, things just don't seem to pan out like they should. Innocentius, thats incredibly! Almost worse then my HRE game!

Without further adue

The Scouring

"Die vile pagan!" Prince Jan slams his sword into his opponent who lies prone before him. The man who used to be Prince Steksys gurgles blood in a muted cry of pain before succumbing to death. As the adrenaline begins to leave Prince Jans body, he looks at the carnage around him. Across the fields of Lithuania, bodies clothed and armored in the deep blues and reds of the Dukedom of Lithuania litter the ground like so much refuse, at least to Prince Jans’ eyes. Lord Ondrus and Lord Jozka walk to where their prince stands, both surprised at his ferocity in combat. Jozka speaks first.
“My lord, today was a sound victory, with only 158 men lost.”
“158 to many for these Pagans!” He spits the words out with so much malice that both of the nobles recoil.
“But you were untested my prince! One cannot expect to not lose a man in war.”
Lord Ondrus, generally silent and otherwise stoic, speaks in flat tones.
“What of the prisoners?”
“Slay them all; I will not keep pagan trash.”
“As you will my Lord.”
Lord Jozka is stunned at his Princes brutality. How could this be the same prince who studied into the long hours of the night?
Lord Ondrus speaks again in the same mild tones.
“Some have managed to escape my Lord, to Vilnius. Should we storm the castle?”
“No, lay siege instead. Death from starvation is most befitting those who refuse to take Gods word.”
As both men walk away from the grisly scene, Lord Jozka is struck by the change in attitude of Prince Jan since the visit from the Inquisition. What had they done to him?

End of Innocence

“Yes, that’s it Borijov, keep at him!”
Prince Borijov is nearly 16, and as his birthday draws near, King Vratislav II is teaching his son the way of the sword. Lord Korutansky of Volhynia is helping in this endeavor, and the boy is quite the prodigy. As of right now, Korutansky is under duress, for it seems he has taught the prince too much. With one sweep of his blade, Borijov knocks the nobles’ sword from his hands, and with a flick of the wrist, has the tip under his chin.
“Well done, Borijov! Excellent work!” King Vratislav exclaims.
“It was mere luck I say. I’d like to see him try that on a battlefield. Get himself cut to ribbons, focusing to much on one man.”
“ Come now, Oldrich, you can’t possible mean that.”
“Aye, I do my Lord. What this boy needs now is some real combat.”
King Vratislav eyes Lord Korutansky warily, looking ever the protective father.
“ It won’t do to have him cooped up here. Better that he learn now, whilst one of his brothers can protect him.”
King Vratislav finally caves in under Korutanskys’ both pleading and stalwart gaze.
“Fine, meet me in the war room, and we shall discuss plans on where to deploy my son.”
Borijov looks up at his father with surprise, since he was half expecting yet another round of arithmetic and history with Lord Adlyn.
“ You mean it father? May I go with Vratislav?”
“I’d prefer you went with Lord Jozka or even Lord Adlyn. That son of mine is a bit too reckless for my tastes. Nonetheless, I will put thought into it.”

From a hidden balcony overlooking the plaza where King Vratislav and his son stand, Prince Spyhtinev pays close attention. His father poured every last minute into that fool of a brother Borijov, and for what! He would never be king, and he didn’t even care! Borijov had no ambitions except to please his father. Spyhtinev had bigger plans. He may only be 10,but he had learned much from his mentor. He knew he was destined for kingship, but as of now he was fifth in line for the throne. Fifth! Even his brother Boleslav preceded him, and only Vladijov was behind him succession. Trickery, deception, even murder were in order if he were to ever assume his fathers throne. Spyhtinev stood and walked quietly away, and headed back to his mentors’ room to report what he had heard.

A page huffs from exhaustion as he crosses the corpse littered fields. He had once been a poor farm boy, but had been taken in by a noble and now worked for the court of King Vratislav II. As he hops over the bodies, he reflects that working on his fathers’ farm was probably the better of the two choices. As the page approaches Prince Jan, he sees him standing over a man who is clothed in the Lithuanian standard who is clearly a noble, if not royalty. With a flash of his sword, the Lithuanians’ head topples to the ground. The page involuntarily doubles over, but to his credit, quickly recovers.
In a shaky voice the page says, “News from home my Lord.”
“Yes, what is it.” Prince Jan replies
“Your brother congratulates you on another outstanding victory over the pagan Lithuanians. He would also like to let you know that your brother has joined him on the fields of Prussia.”
“Ahh, Borijov has come of age has he? Good, we will need able men to beat back this pagan trash. Did he send a letter?”
“Yes my Lord.”
The page hands him the letter, and Jan takes and tears the seal without ceremony. As his eyes scan the letter, they grow dark and his hands shake with subdued fury. Jan abruptly crushes the letter in his hands and screams “HE LET THEM GO! HE LET THOSE VILE PAGANS GO FREE! Father shall have word of this, let there be no doubt!”
The page is visibly shaken as Jan grabs a hold of his wrist.
“Send word to Lord Jozka that he is to take over duties here at Vilnius Castle.”
“Yyyesss, my Lorrrdd.”
The page scampers off back to camp, knowing now that tending the fields was the better choice.

“Send him here to speak with me.”
“ He is in yet another of his rages. It appears that my eldest brother has enraged him for showing mercy.”
“Good, we can use this to our advantage. Jan will be easy to manipulate, he is nothing like his elder brother.”
“Are you sure you wish to see him now? He might do something…irrational.”
“Yes, I need him irritated and without level thought, if such a thing isn’t alien to him altogether. Don’t worry, I shall be safe.”

“Why would that buffoon wish to speak to me? I have more important things to do then to talk to my fathers’ aging spymaster!”
“He says it’s something important, it has to do with our elder brother Vratislav.”
“Yes, I know, he sent me a letter detailing exactly what happened.”
“Then you will be pleased to know of what information Jindrich has on him.”
“Such as…”
“To tell you in public, here, now, would ruin its value. Better that it be said in public. Besides, I don’t know what it’s about, he simple told me to find you and bring you to him.”
“Fine, but it better be good…”

Within the throne room King Vratislav II smolders upon his throne.
"First you attack the Prussians, diverting a good number of my forces to some backwater dukedom that has never been hostile to us. THAT was excusable. But then Jan tells me thought you went and attacked the Norwegians, and without my authorization! I am disappointed in you my son.”
“Father let me explain. I had received information from one of our spies that they planned to attack our ally, the Holy Roman Empire, and I took the initiative and ambushed them as they were marching to Brandenburg.”
“That information was false! I have been working with the Norwegian King and the Holy Roman Emperor on a ceasefire and terms of recompense. Then you go and attack them, and in the process make me look like a fool!”
“Then blame your spymaster, not me! I marched on his information! What was I supposed to do, let the Norse kill countless soldiers and innocents?
“Authorization! Look before you leap! As of now, I am reassigning you to another unit, one that will defend Lithuania. I will brook no objections. You are my heir and you will begin to act like it. A few hard winters should see to that.”

Death of a Prince, Rise of a Tyrant

“Run, run for your lives!”
Even as he watched his army fall apart, Prince Spyhtinev knew he had won. The Lithuanians and their Rus allies were charging headlong into a trap, one in which their would be no escape. Spyhtinev muses to himself how enraged Jan would be if he were here, who was presently tied up in Pomerania with the Novgorod. Sometimes he wondered if his brother wasn’t more cut out for the inquisition. He snapped back to reality just as the routing spearmen stampeded into the forest. As the foolish Rus and Lithuanian army followed them in, Militia Sergeants sprang from their hiding places, and Armored Spearmen appeared from nowhere, blocking the Rus and Lith advance. Caught between two lines of men, the coup de grace was delivered with 2 units of Royal Knights attacking upon the flanks. Within a minute, a handful of enemy soldiers ran screaming from the forest, with the knights in hot pursuit.
“Brother, I believe we will have to assault the Castle. It appears the nobility have fled beyond our reach.” Spyhtinev says disinterestedly.
“Indeed” replies Prince Vratislav, although he believes otherwise. His time in Lithuania had been well spent, having attempted to secure peace with the Rus, but his brother had gotten a crack-brained idea that they could defeat them simply by taking Novgorod. He objected, but his brother Spyhtinev was senior commander, and had ordered the attack on Novgorod anyway. When the march began, they took every able bodied man, leaving Vilnius quite undermanned, and soon paid the price for it. The Lithuanians had cut them off after defeating Jozka, and with the Czech fleet battling it out with the Rus, they were stranded. Now they were forced to assault Novgorod castle to ensure their very survival, let alone prosperity.
“Get the men lined up. The faster we take the castle, the faster we can defend ourselves.”
“I shall see to it brother. May I inquire as to your rush?”
“Yes, you may: Reports from my men have indicated that although the Novgorod and Lithuanians have been subdued, the Kievians to the south have not, and are planning to attack Lviv and Krakow within two years. The faster we can assemble an army here, the faster we can aid our countrymen.”

Ivan Kozlov had never been a mean spirited man. In fact he had never held a grudge against anyone, including the Czech. But since the war had begun, sparked over the fool of a Prince Vsevolod, who had ordered the attack upon them while they controlled Lithuania, everything had been much worse. The Czech generals showed incredible prowess, especially against the impetuous nobility, using their desire for glory to lead them into traps that held anything but glory. The Czech were also desperate men, with the loss of the Holy Roman Empire covering their backside, and with war with the Kievian Princes too, had sent them into poverty attempting to keep their country safe. They had even gone so far as to use silverware for daggers in one battle; a memory Ivan is all to ready to forget, particularly since he lost that engagement. And now he stared death in the face, as his men were the only ones to escape to the castle in time. 110 men…against 680, with no hope of relief. He had never held a grudge, and he wouldn’t start now.

“HOW DID HE DIE! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE PROTECTING HIM! I SENT YOU TO THE LEFT FLANK, THE OPEN FLANK, WITH NO OPPOSITION, AND HERE HE LIES DEAD BEFORE MY FEET! HOW DID HE DIE!
Prince Spyhtinev is livid with rage as he berates the royal guard of the late Prince Vratislav. Each and everyone one of them are battle hardened, and each and every one of them is scared out of their wits. To them, Prince Spyhtinev is a cool, calm, collected leader, and not easily moved in any situation, even death. The side he shows them now can only be described as beyond apoplectic. He grabs the nearest guard, lifts him by his livery, and holds him in the air.
“WHAT HAPPENED!”
In a most timorous voice, the guard answers, “I dooonnt knnoow mmmy lord, He was charging with the rest of us, and then he suddenly slumped into his saaaddle.”
The prince visible pales at this, and releases the guard, who lets loose a breath of relief.
Spyhtinev motions to one of his attendants, and whispers something into his ear.
The attendant nods in understanding, and quickly scurries off.
“As of right now, you shall be under the command of Sir Bretislav Hudak. You will be deployed to Castle guard. If in the likely event that we must vacate Novgorod Castle, you will serve as the garrison, is this clear?”
A unanimous yes is the reply to the princes’ grim dictum.

“Father hasn’t come out of his room since he received news of Vratislavs death. I fear for him.”
“Indeed.”
“Almost a year now since our brothers death. I think it has gone to Jans’ head that he will become king. I can see only trouble for all of us, if he does.”
A resounding “aye” verifies Prince Borijovs’ thoughts.
The three brothers sit at a table, pondering what would happen to them. Since the death of Prince Vratislavs’ death, the king had fallen into a despondent mood, then into illness. According to the court physician, he would not last long. They continue to sit there for well over on hour, when abruptly a messenger bursts through the door, bows to each of them in turn, and with a hurried voice pronounces “The King is dead!”
All three brothers stare in surprise, for some had expected their father to pull through. Spyhtinev speaks first.
“Now we don’t have to worry, about it going to his head; we only have to worry now just about our lives.”

[Martok]

@ The Unknown Guy: Wow, that's a pretty wild ride so far -- my congratulations to you for keeping things together as well as you have. Here's hoping the HRE can now fend off the machinations of the Greeks as well!

@ YLC: Another superb narrative, mate. It looks like the Kingdom of Bohemia may be facing some internal problems soon....


Well after far too long, I believe that I'm finally going begin a new campaign in earnest this weekend. I only have to decide whether I want to continue the Spanish game I started last week (I didn't get very far into it), or if I want to play as the Fatamid dynasty (playing with the Pocket Mod). Ah, decisions, decisions....

[The Unknown Guy]

Not as well as I hoped :/ :p The attack didn´t come from Byzantium, after all. Althrough the likely instigators, it was the poles, the hungarians, the French, and the british, the ones which invaded the Empire at unison. After some initial scutting in the Austrian and Venetian borders, the lines broke, allowing the Hungarians to cut deep inside the Empire, and the French retook the lands retook the lands beyond the Rhein river. Faced upon this odds, Emperor Lothair III ordered his father´s "scortched Earth" plan to be implemented, and all forts south of Brandenburg were burned down. Furthermore, faced with these odds, he started to blame it on divine wrath for not being pious enough, and instaurated an inçuisition to hunt down heretics through the land. Althrough some standing enemy officials were found guilty of heresy, the main brunt of the Emperor´s paranoia fell upon his own people, and he himself started to spend hours in penance for supposed sins.

The situation was dire, but not yet terminal: the Emperor´s son, grieved by the situation, led a sortie into Finland to grasp it from the clutch of the city of Novgorod. Also, the garrisons at Burgundy and Venice held, against odds, before the coalition´s onslaught
Finally, there was the Emperor himself. He had entered a vicious circle of zeal and madness, but the bulk of the Imperial army was still at his side. If he were to strike, likely most of the Empire´s enemies would be driven from the soil. Furthermore, were the advice of some specialists heeded, and the Empire started fielding heavy cavalry units (in the initial skirmishes against the Hungarian kingdom, the latter´s "skelegzy"´s mounted nobles had proven able to outmaneuver Imperial spear-armed gendry and sergeants.), they might be able to push the borders beyond what originally had been.

However, this would not happen while Emperor Lothair remained this church-fearing shadow of his former self. His elder son looked at him, and pondered. The Emperor had to go, no çuestion. But should he do something about it, or wait until the old man croaked? His new-found faith, combined by his years-old habit of indulging in wine, mean´t that it wasn´t going to be too long anyway...

(yes, I tried to send the hungarian king to the stake, and he´s now a born-again. The thing is that I started this HRE game, it took me blood, sweat and tears to be able to tech it up, and now I´m playing it to the dire, bitter end :p)

[Innocentius]

The reign of King Leszek II the Kind: 1218 - 1244 A.D.

In the year 1218 Anno Domini Prince Leszek succeeded his father Kazimierz as king of Poland. He inherited a great kingdom, one of the largest of Christendom and also the barrier between the Catholic church and the mighty Muslim Seljuk Sultanate of the east. The Polish had forged themselves their great kingdom and fortune with much bloodshed and through great efforts. For long the kingdom had been weak despite its size, and King Leszek II was the first to become king of a true superpower of its time.
As it would prove, Leszek was a very different man from his father. He had participated in the Bohemian campaign of 1218 and had seen war and what horrible effects it had, and it interested him little. He was of a kind nature and was a great promoter of the arts and cultural life in the kingdom of Poland. He was also responsible for raising and rebuilding hundreds - not to say thousands - of churches and cathedrals across Poland. He invited many monastic orders to settle in his lands and construct monasteries. Thus, with the wisdom of these monks, Polish literature became among the finest in all Europe and The Chronicle of Leszek the Good written by a monk only known as Laurentius is considered as one of the most important literary works of the early 13th century. Even though warfare pleased him little, Leszek knew the necessity of having an effective, standing, army, the feudal armies of the past proving highly unreliable, and thus he made sure that the army was renewed and modernised in the way his father had suggested. Polearms and more importantly: the crossbow, now got a much more important role in the Polish army, the old tactics of the spear and hunter's bow being abandoned and replaced with more reliable professionals wielding these new weapons. But above all, he sought for peace.

Peace was not easily attained however, and the humiliated Bohemians in particular were reluctant to sign a ceasefire with King Leszek. In 1219, Prague itself and its castle fell to the Polish, thus effectively ending the Polish - Bohemian war, although war would officially continue for the entire reign of King Leszek. No further actions were taken however.
After the capture of Prague in 1219 a long period of peace followed for the Polish kingdom and King Leszek could calmly watch as the world around him changed and kingdoms came and went. In the summer of 1220 the mighty Seljuk Sultan suddenly died without an heir, this causing a major collapse in the entire Muslim world. In the absence of power many of the now unemployed soldiers took to looting and raiding. These large bands of raiders brought the downfall of the tiny remainder of the Fatamid Khalifah as well. Even the Kingdom of Sicily were so badly shaken by these looters, pillagers and pirates that much of the lands they had conquered in the Levant and northern Africa were lost.
The hundred of small sultanates and kingdoms that now emerged were soon engaged in conflicts with each other and the constant raids of bandits didn't help to stabilise the situation. In the early spring of 1225 Tatar Rüstem, King of Bulgaria, rode to the court of King Leszek II in Krakow to seek his aid and protection against these bandits. In return for this protection Bulgaria would become a vassal state of Poland. King Leszek immediately accepted this offer and thus Bulgaria was made a part of the Polish kingdom.
The lost Sultanate of the Seljuks soon recovered however, as a man named Osman, claiming to be an illegitimate son of the last Seljuk Sultan rose to power in Anatolia. He had many followers and thus the Seljuk Sultanate was once more. Seeing this new threat many who did not wish to again fall under Seljuk reigned now united behind a man named Ibrahim, and thus the Fatamid Khalifah was also restored.

In 1230 A.D. another people entered the scene, rivalling the presence of the Seljuks in the north. This strange pagan steppe people from the far east were called Mongols but they were soon known by the Seljuk Turks as the Golden Horde because of their vast numbers and their golden armour. Indeed, the Khan of the Golden Horde was very successful of driving the Seljuks out of the lands north of the Black Sea, and already by 1235 only the land west of the Dnepr and Lake Peipus remained in Polish or Swedish hands.
King Leszek recognised this new threat to the kingdom, and ordered that his borders in the east be reinforced by a great many soldiers from the very heart of Poland. Arbalesters from Denmark, Pomerania and Prussia and halberdiers from Greater and Lesser Poland marched east to help their brothers in the defence against these new expansionist pagans. The Mongol Khan hesitated however, and it would still be many years before these two superpowers ultimately clashed. Until then, Leszek had other troubles to see to.

With the death of the Fatamid Khalif Ibrahim in 1240 his successor, Khalif Baybars I had chosen Wallachia as his seat of power. This spelled bad news for the Polish as Baybars had now gathered huge armies in Wallachia, which was surrounded by Polish lands. In 1241 Baybars dispatched an emissary in an attempt to persuade Tatar Rüstem of Bulgaria to join him, believing that his loyalty to King Leszek would be wavering. it was not however, and Rüstem immediately sent words to King Leszek of this. Leszek knew what had to be done and, reluctantly, he declared war on the Fatamids. Already in the spring of 1242 Prince Konrad, the Crown prince of Poland and 21 years of age marched into Wallachia. His younger brother Mieszko back in Krakow cursed the fact that he had been born in September and was thus considered just a little too young to participate in this war.

The Battle of Vidra

Forcing Khalif Baybars to meet him in the field was not at all difficult for Konrad. Baybars was highly confident in his superior numbers and the great many archers he brought to the battle. Surely they would decimate the Polish badly. He was wrong in this however as Konrad's army was equipped with the latest arms and armour and although it lacked the mobility of the Fatamid army, it packed a punch many times stronger. Also, with the Polish army came two regiments of turcoman horse archers from Bulgaria, sent by Tatar Rüstem to aid Prince Konrad.
In the forested fields outside the little village of Vidra in the northern parts of Wallachia Baybars decided to meet his enemy. He positioned his men, who counted several siege engines among them, atop a slight ridge facing the Polish, but foolishly enough he failed to secure his flanks. Prince Konrad, who even though he was yet young and inexperienced, knew that the Khalif had doomed his own army and himself by this severe mistake. Konrad wasted no time.
He sent his regiments of horse archers up the Fatamid right flank while simultaneously positioning himself and his knights on the Fatamid left. All the time his arbalesters approached. A grim duel now stood as the arbalesters thanks to their superior weapons well outranged the desert archers of Khalif Baybars but were within range of the deadly siege engines. Many Poles were crushed and killed by the stones and rocks launched from the Fatamid catapults but all the time the horse archers harassed the enemy from the flank. Being pressed from three sides, Baybars committed a grim mistake that nearly cost him his pitiful life: he divided his forces. His two regiments of heavy cavalry - all the way from Armenia - charged the horse archers while he himself and most of his army now attacked the attackers, charging the arbalesters and leaving the siege engines unprotected.
The turcomans were surprised by this cavalry shock and reacted to slowly to get away and engaged in a deadly melee with the Armenians. Their light armour and simple weapons gave them a huge disadvantage fighting heavy cavalry, but they held out long enough for relieving troops to arrive.
The arbalesters on the other hand acted exactly as they had been trained and ordered to. They fired at the Fatamids as they approached, and then withdrew just in time for the halberdiers behind them to charge the approaching cavalry. The result was a slaughter. The comparatively lightly armoured Fatamids were sliced and skewered by the highly professional Polish.
Prince Konrad and his men attacked Baybar's artillery, destroyed the siege engines and then split forces; some went to the aid of the horse archers while Konrad himself charged perfectly into the rear of the already engaged main Fatamid army. At this time it all became too much for Khalif Baybars who threw his dignity aside and fled the field like the coward he was. Konrad turned his retinue away from the battle and attempted a pursuit which unfortunately failed. The cowardice of the Khalif and his fast desert horses saved his neck that day.
Some Fatamid reinforcements followed but almost all broke and ran immediately as they witnessed the slaughter and were greeted by hails of Polish arbalest fire. Within an hour after the flight of Baybars the battle was over, and it was a clear victory for the Polish and Prince Konrad.



The prisoners taken by the Polish - who included some of the finest Fatamid generals - were quickly ransomed back under humiliating terms by Baybars, further crippling him.
The war in Wallachia was not over however, but Baybars and the remnants of his army instead decided to remain behind the safety of stone walls rather than again meeting the Poles in open battle. The war was not fought on a very big scale however and most Wallachians weren't even aware of the war other than by distant rumours of this and that castle falling to the Polish. As time went on more and more of the inhabitants sided with Prince Konrad and Baybars soon found himself abandoned by all.
Attention was soon drawn from the Wallachian theatre however as the two giants of the Kingdom of Poland and the Khanate of the Golden Horde finally clashed in 1243.

The Mongol-Polish Wars

By 1243 the Khan of the Golden Horde had become used to success. Wherever he had fought or wherever he had sent his troops he had been victorious and it grieved him much that the Kingdom of Poland prevented him from further expansion west. King Leszek had reinforced his borders greatly and to this date the Khan had not dared to cross the Dnepr to meet with him, but all this changed in 1243 as vast Mongol armies at last crossed the border and onto Polish ground.
The greatest of the three armies invading Poland in 1243 was the one that marched towards Kiev, the eastern and third capital of Poland (Prague and Krakow being the other two). This army was commanded by one of the finest generals there were, Kublai. Kublai had risen to fame during his campaigns against the Danes in the north, and it was he who had captured Novgorod. He now intended to make Kiev his second great prize.
At this time, in the early summer of 1243, no other than King Leszek himself resided in Kiev, a city that found particularly beautiful during summertime. His stay however was not long as he quickly left the city, mustered the army and rode out to meet the Horde and Kublai. He had learnt from his ancestors and their wars against the Kievan Rus, and knew the excellent defensive position that the Dnepr and its tributaries formed. At the bridges of Polesskoje crossing the river Uzj he met with his enemy.
Kublai was a brave man and a great warrior, but his personal capabilities and his almost insane bravery could not make up for the fact that he thirsted for glory more than was appropriate. The Mongols were seasoned warriors and knew that a bridge battle was dangerous and risky, not to say foolish. Kublai would have none of it however and as he saw the Polish positioned on the other side, with their king within reach!, he ordered a head-on charge across the bridge. His advisors at least managed to convince him into sending a lone unit of horse archers across the river further downstream, attacking the enemy by surprise in the flank.
The Mongols trying to cross the bridge were all slaughtered and shot down. The horse archers sent to flank the Polish indeed fulfilled their purpose in taking the Polish by surprise, but their numbers were too few and King Leszek took his retinue, charged home against the Mongols, slew most of them with the help of Sir Ryksa Kazczyk and his dismounted knights and then chased them off the battlefield. During this chase however disaster nearly struck the Poles as the King fell from his horse, seriously wounding his leg and hip. He remounted immediately with the help of his retinue, giving them strict orders not to alert anyone else until after the battle to avoid causing any panic. The battle was soon over however.
Seeing that his flanking manoeuvre had failed, Kublai himself charged across the bridge, but was mercilessly shot down by Polish arbalesters before he even crossed. With his death and the casualties mounting while achieving little the Mongols decided to call it a day and retreated, leaving the injured King Leszek as victor.

The Battle of Polesskoje


Meanwhile the Mongol army marching into Levidia from Pereyaslavl encountered a Polish counterpart under the command of Lord Dudzik. The two armies met at Jurjevka and the untested Lord Dudzik soon proved to be a fine commander.
The Mongols were commanded by their general Batudhun, just like Kublai a seasoned warrior although less famous. Batudhun lacked the incredible courage of Kublai, but was instead equipped with much wisdom and experience. As he first spotted the Polish forces he almost burst into laugher, although his manners told him never to underestimate an enemy. Not only did the Poles come in lesser numbers than his own, they only brought infantry! Apart from the retinue of Lord Dudzik not a single mounted could be seen within the Polish army. It was too early to triumph however, as the day indeed proved.
Dudzik knew the disadvantages of fighting with only infantry against cavalry, but used tactic unfamiliar to the Mongols and thus won the day. He deployed his one flank in the woods with some dismounted men-at-arms hiding in there, ready to ambush anyone who ventured into these forests. His other flank he secured by two regiments of halberdiers. Arbalesters up front, halberdiers behind. The Mongol horse archers approached and from there on the battle carried on in a very linear way.
The Mongols were outranged and out-powered by the Polish arbalesters and were again and again forced to retreat with heavy casualties, only to reform and reorganise, ride back and then be out-shot again.
Soon Batudhun learnt that his only way of winning the day was by defeating the enemy in melee. He thus grouped his cavalry together and charged. The melee that followed was brief as Lord Dudzik repeated the tactics used by Prince Konrad at Vidra: his arbalesters retreated and his halberdiers moved up and counter-charged the cavalry, bringing their pole-arms to devastating effect. The situation was worsened still as the dismounted knights soon charged into the flank of the Mongol cavalry, slaying many. The situation soon became intolerable for Batudhun who - different from Kublai - knew when to retreat and when to stay and fight. This was indeed the time to retreat.

The Battle of Jurjevka


This victory earned Lord Dudzik great glory as this was the first time that the Golden Horde had been defeated on the open plains where they were generally considered as the superiors of all others. And he had defeated them with infantry alone!
As news of the defeats at Polesskoje and Jurjevka reached the third Mongol army which was invading the densely forested lands of Lithuania they decided it was best to retreat.
The war was all but over however, and in the summer of 1244 another Mongol army commanded by Batubali crossed the border into Levidia. Lord Dudzik was indeed a great commander, although not a very creative one and he repeated the tactics used at Jurjevka and thus defeated the Mongol and killed Batublai at The Battle of Kupjansk


How the war was to end was not for King Leszek to witness however as he died from an illness caused by an infection in his broken leg at Polesskoje. He drew his last breath on February 17 1244. Never a great man of war, his first field battle became his last. Many wept at the news of the tragedy as this was a premature death when compared to his forefathers. The kings of Poland generally lived to be old men, but Leszek II was the first to day before his sixtieth birthday. Some argued that this was unfair as King Leszek was one of the mildest kings that had ever ruled Poland, while his less humane ancestors had live to see their grand-grandchildren grow up. King Leszek only left two sons. The oldest, Prince Konrad now left the war in Wallachia in a hurry to visit his father's burial in Krakow. He immediately returned to Wallachia after this however, but the war lasted for merely a few weeks, as Khalif Baybars was murdered by his own men on May 13th 1244 A.D, thus ending the resistance in Wallachia.
On July 1 Prince Konrad was crowned King Konrad I of Poland, at the young age of 23.

The Kingdom of Poland in 1244:


King Konrad I:

[Martok]

@ The Unknown Guy: Well regardless of how well you may or may not be doing, I definitely have to credit you with hanging in there. With a bit of luck, you should be able to fight your way back into contention now -- I'll keep my fingers crossed for you!

@ Innocentius: Ah, gotta love all those battles with the Horde. Hail King Leszek! Long live King Konrad!

[Bregil the Bowman]

I was wondering whether my Almohad campaign would throw up anything worth writing up in its final phase. Most of my serious opposition is either knocked out or on the ropes, and I'm storming ahead in the GA charts. But the beauty of MTW is that it always throws something up to make a story...

[Bregil the Bowman]

Part Seven of an Account of a VI 2.01 campaign as the Almohads

The Wooing of Margrethe

As soon as he had secured his accession to the throne, Umar III set out on his travels. The following year he set up his court in Saxony where the Danish king’s 17 year old daughter, Margrethe, was also visiting. With Margrethe’s uncle, Hardeknud, having been raised at the Almohad court, it is likely that Umar already knew much of the fair Danish princess and may have set out deliberately to woo her. Whatever the truth, a legend has grown up that Umar was immediately smitten with Margrethe and fell instantly in love.

However, the Danes were at war with the Almohads and until that could be resolved there was little hope of securing the match. Umar therefore ordered the withdrawal of troops from Saxony and Sweden as an indication of peaceful intentions. Naturally no fool, he ensured that sufficient troops remained within easy call to defend against any treacherous Danish attack. The offices of the Grand Imam of Copenhagen (Denmark being by now 94% Muslim) were called upon to help arrange a ceasefire between the nations.

Alas, Umar’s plan was not to be. As feared, the Danish army once more crossed the Skaggerack and drove the tiny Swedish garrison back behind the walls of Stockholm. A relieving party arrived from Norway and the Danes retreated without a blow being struck. It was a pointless, sabre-rattling affair, but put paid to any hopes that Umar would win his bride.

Nonetheless, the year after the Swedish debacle, Umar acknowledged a son, officially the child of a blonde-haired Circassian slave he had taken as a wife on ascending the throne. Certainly Prince Yusuf had a lighter complexion and fairer hair than any of the Al-Mutamids to date. The following year Margrethe departed Saxony, where she had remained despite the hostilities between her father and her suitor. Legend has it that she and Umar had indeed consummated their love, and that she had secretly borne him a son before, in the end, choosing her father and her religion over her lover. It is even said that they had been married according to Muslim law, but that because he had wives already that marriage could not be acknowledged by the Christian world. Whatever the truth may be, Umar did not succeed in either making Margrethe his wife or making peace with his Danish neighbours.

One section of the army removed from Saxony was used, along with troops handpicked from around the empire, to conduct and invasion of Lithuania. With the border at Kiev strongly protected by the river, Umar instead ordered an invasion by sea. This manoeuvre caught the Prince of Novgorod somewhat by surprise, and allowed the Almohad force plenty of time to assemble before it marched south.

The Army of Novgorod consisted mainly of Boyars, troops of the highest quality but few in number. The Almohad army under Amir Al-Hakam, Master of the Khalifah’s Horses, included a number of steppe heavy cavalrymen, to counter the mobile threat of the boyars, but at its core were mixed infantry units, including longbows and arbalesters. Having used cannon with success against the Byzantines in similar terrain, Al-Hakam also included some light cannon.

In the event, the battle proved a damp squib. Rather than face cannon fire, the Prince of Novgorod retreated, allowing the Almohads to establish their infantry lines in good order without interference. An exchange of arrows between the two armies saw more Russians fall than Almohads, and the boyars again retreated. Neither side had suffered heavy casualties, but Prince Chort had had enough. Leaving a small garrison to defend Vilnius – which would be utterly destroyed by Almohad gunnery – the Prince fled back to Novgorod. Once Vilnius fell, the Almohads laid waste the country and drew back to Kiev. The garrison at Livonia was also extracted. With empty lands between themselves and the People of Novgorod, they again sued for peace, but were refused.

In Malta, Prince Mohammed was becoming increasingly irrational. He assaulted Valetta but found his demi-cannon under-performed against the stout defences. Rather than await the heavier guns promised by his nephew, he decided to assault the castle gates and claim his crown without delay. A bitter, bloody battle ensued with heavy losses on both sides, but in the end the garrison was slaughtered. This was not before the harbour was blocked by sunken merchantmen, and the facilities burned to the ground. Having conquered Malta, it would take Mohammed four years to escape, during which time his mind became entirely unhinged – it was said he was as mad as his brother, the Khalifah Ibrahim. He even changed his name (inexplicably) to “the Amir Wahid,” refusing the title of King for which he had fought so hard and spent so many lives.

As the Amir Wahid, he was charged with the conquest of Sicily, which he began as soon as the ports were available to remove his troops. The Sicilian garrison put up no resistance, but as preparations for the siege began, King Arcill II crossed from Naples with an army of considerable force. The Amir Wahid defended from an advantageous hilltop, but found that the new cannon that had at last arrived from Tripoli were almost entirely useless against troops in the field, particularly as the range closed. Many gunners were killed by relentless Sicilian archery, and the chivalric troops and royal knights of the Sicilian army fought well against the Almohad veterans. Even so, the Almohads had the victory, and though losses were high on both sides it would be Arcill who rued the loss of his best troops.

1307 closed with Umar III in firm control of his realm, with the Danes confined to Denmark, the Sicilians penned in Naples, the People of Novgorod driven north and the Golden Horde limited to Georgia and Armenia. Poland, Italy and the Papacy maintained the truce. It seemed Umar would have little to do but rule an empire secure and at peace.

The first reports of an army officer named Andronicus leading a revolt against the Muscovite barons hardly excited much comment, even when it became known that he had titled himself “Emperor of the Eastern Romans.” But when the rebels of Livonia, Lithuania, Ryazan and Peryslavl declared themselves as his vassals, the situation became one of greater concern. A re-emergence of the Byzantines had occurred in the turbulent steppelands.

Umar, still only twenty-three, smiled to himself. His forefathers had made their names as mighty warriors as well as statesmen. So might he, after all.

[naut]

Well I'll post some pics of my current HRE game in the pocket mod.

[Martok]

Nice, Bregil! It's rare to see romance and the "gentler sex" have a presence in AAR's here, but you pulled it off quite well. Poor Umar; he had to struggle through many years before he could finally reunite with his lost love....


@ Rythmic: Very cool, mate. So have you reached the point yet where you finally feel relatively safe & secure?

[naut]

Well Poland invaded and Italy has been relegated to Corsica so the East looks tempting. Although I could take Spain.

[Maloncanth]

Opening Moves


In 1320, Grand Master Helion I rises to the leadership of the Hospitaller Knights. By then, the order was confined to the Rhodes, a tiny island guarding the approach to the Aegean from the Islamic frontier, which in his opinion, given the good deeds and crusading history of the knighthood, was ridiculous. Despite being the smallest major kingdom in Europe, it wasn't the poorest as the yield per square mileage of the small realm was unbelieveably high. It was not, of course, enough to call an empire.

Upon entrance to his office, Helion I immediately mustered his knights, order footmen, and lesser troops for campaign. He recalled from his youth, that an illegitimate duchy of Athens had been in power since 1311. Setting sail for Greece, Helion I challenged the lethal Armoured Almughavars of the Catalan Company to battle and defeated them. By 1323, Greece was in the hands of the Hospitallers.



Prince Helion the Younger soon came of age and joined his father in the occupation of Greece. A teenager of more pride and brute strength than wits or good sense, the prince was more valuable as the leader of the Hospitaller Order's best knights than as an heir to the Grand Mastership.

As grain taxes from Greece flowed into the knighthood's coffers, Helion I began contemplating other advances in the name of Christianity. At the extremities of Venetian power, Crete was an attractive target so long as he could build enough ships to overcome the naval squadron based near the small island. To all sides of Greece, lay Orthodox realms. Yet, though he felt confident in victory against either the Bulgarians or the Serbs, any battle would make the third side stronger. Moreover, there was the still powerful Eastern Empire which had the financial and military might to dislodge the knights from Greece proper.

Then, in 1325, an interesting strategic situation developed as the Tsar of Bulgaria took a risk and left for years of campaigning in Moldovia, leaving his homeland exposed.

On the one hand, the desperate situation of Bulgarian finances, having a large army and poor lands was understandable. Helion knew if he seized Bulgaria, he could easily hold the Danube against the Bulgarians. Yet, it wasn't the Bulgarians he feared, but Constantinople's intentions as they turned down the Bishop of Greece's overtures for alliance. Nor was he certain he could sustain a siege of Bulgaria's fortresses, given Rhodes was committed to funding a fleet against Crete and all of the Greek military facilities had been damaged beyond repair and so the cautious Grand Master hesitated for some years.



By 1327, the situation had changed. The Romans had other concerns to deal with, leaving Constantinople minimally manned, trusting in their superior strategic depth and in the Hospitallers' case, their mighty navy to defend them. In 1326, the Serbs had proved they had similar ideas about the Bulgarian situation and was ordered back only at the last minute by a strengthened Bulgarian garrison. Helion I dispatched the good bishop to secure alliance with Serbia to settle his western flank for the time being. Helion mustered and attacked and took Tarnovo by assault in 1328.



In 1333, the Hospitaller's new fireships vanquished the Venetians at Crete, laying the road to the island open. The Serbians, discontent with not having Bulgaria themselves, took these new hostilities as an excuse for war and attacked at once, bypassing Helion's prepared positions near the Danube.

Battle of Bulgaria

The two forces were of similar size, but the Serbs had brought massive advantage in horses, with several squadrons of Serbian Cavalry. Having dispatched First Prince Helion the Younger to Greece in preparation for the invasion of Crete, the Serbs had sixty one Carska Garda to Helion's forty one Knights Hospitaller.

Moreover, Serbian Prince Urso was the Achilles of the Balkans. At an all up valor of 7, he and his bodyguard was more than a match even for Helion the Younger if he were present. Combined with his father's rather better generalship, he would be more or less invincible, and so the Grand Master was determined to bring the legendary warrior down in the least chivalrous way possible.

As battle opened, the Hospitallers marched to a hilltop position, obligating the Serbs to come get them. They did so, swiftly. The two princes of Serbia and a screen of lighter cavalry were upon the Hospitallers before their defense was even ready, harassing them and locking them in place. Once his lines were ready however, Helion ordered his pavise crossbows and arbalests to fire on the Carska Garda, knowing the invincible lancer prince he feared was somewhere among them. His assembled crossbowmen fired volley after volley and shot at the Serb knights until all had perished ignobly to their bolts.


The Serbs' main body marches on the Hospitaller position's left flank as the last prince dies.

Then, Tsar Stephen himself came into view in the midst of the Serbs main army as it marched like the Golden Horde itself on the Hospitallers. Arrows fell like rain upon the ranks of Order Foot, their large shields proving almost ineffectual and the previously favorable exchange rapidly reversed itself - the Serbs had at least twice as many bows on the field and fired even more arrows.

Despite this, after some halfhearted and useless attempts at driving away the Serbian cavalry, Helion ordered his own pavise units to shoot down the Tsar. One by one, his household guards fell as his enemy's drained crossbow units were ordered to the front to help absorb the withering volleys of return fire. The Grandmaster had to preserve some of his Order footmen for the hand to hand fighting that would come next and more than half of them had fallen by this point. The minutes passed and soon, only a unit of arbalests had bolts remaining, the other archers desperately organized into light infantry units for what could turn to a slaughter ahead. The arbalesters continued to fire at the roaring urges of their grand master, on the Tsar, slaying his guards and slamming bolt after bolt of fire off his silvery armour as the Serbs, satisfied with the advantage they had gained shooting the Hospitallers down where they stood, advanced on the knights. The arbalests fired more, concentrating all of their firepower at the Serbian ruler as the Tsar led from the front, a dozen bolts lodged in his bloodied battleplate yet the Serbian battleflag he held high. But, satisfied that his opponent was wounded and struggling, Helion sounded his own charge and met the Tsar for the last time with his lance.


Grand Master Helion I finishes off the Tsar of Serbia as Hospitaller Halberdiers break up ranks of armoured spearmen in the woods.


Once sharp blow, and the war is over.

His mount leaping over the corpse of his nemesis, the grand master surged on and the Serbian lines break up into disarray as the now unopposed knights hospitaller smash into the vulnerable rear elements. Formation after formation of Serbs vaporized as the knights charged into them. Within seconds, the main Serbian elements of Voynuk, Armoured Spearmen, and Halberdiers break and rout before the remnants of the Order Foot and the remains of the Serbian army withdraw in defeat.

Sixty carska garda slain by commoners with crossbows. The Serbian line of Tsars has ended. Even though Helion I hasn't the troops to pursue a conquest of Serbia, this country will probably immediately fall under Hungarian sway.

[Martok]

@ Rythmic: "Go east, young man!" (Sorry, could't help myself. ) Seriously, though, I would expand eastwards. I wouldn't tackle the Spanish until you're in a stronger position, and/or you were forced to.

@ Maloncanth: Well done! (A pity my computer won't show the screenshots, though. Weird.) That was awfully nice of the Serbs to eliminate themselves for you. So what do you think you'll do next? Are you contemplating a march on the Big C, or are the Byz still too strong for you to try that?

[Galagros]

@ Maloncanth: Well done! (A pity my computer won't show the screenshots, though. Weird.) That was awfully nice of the Serbs to eliminate themselves for you. So what do you think you'll do next? Are you contemplating a march on the Big C, or are the Byz still too strong for you to try that?

Mine won't show the either...

[Maloncanth]

Oh oops, I shoved them into a folder for organization on photobucket. Silly me. Let me fix this.

And yeah, I marched on Consie, I'll post about that soon. :3

Right, so when we last left off...


Helion I nominated as a Natural Leader, for bravely ordering his Serbian enemies shot with crossbows.

With her royal line ended, Serbia was quickly made no more than a vassal of the Hungarian kingdom. In just a few years, the Bulgarians would attempt a foolish and highly abortive crossing of the Danube. Naturally, Helion I was victorious there too, and likewise, the entire male line of Bulgarian royalty fell to the bolts of Hospitaller crossbows. If only the Papacy could be convinced of the utility of such weapons against infidels! Unlike the Serbs however, the Bulgarian royalty would reemerge in a few years with more forces than they had ever commanded. They would not, however, contest their homeland from the iron grip of the Hospitaller Knighthood for a long time.

After the Serbs had been defeated, Helion's armies also invaded Crete under Healion the Younger. Although the prince himself died during the fighting the massively outnumbered Venetians were quickly routed and distance forced the Venetians to accept the reality of the order's control of the island. Though the Grand Master was personally saddened at the loss of his eldest, he remarked that for the knight order as a whole, it was probably a good thing that the much more capable Dieudonne ascended to the position of heir apparent.

Battle of Greece
As diplomatic encounters continued to be tarnished by religious differences, Helion I knew Constantinople would clash with the knighthood eventually and plotted to take the city. But the Roman Empire, if distracted, was yet powerful and it would take over a decade of constant military and naval buildup to both secure the border against the indifferent Hungarians and overwhelm Andronicus III's armies and fleets. Things finally came to a head in 1337 when the Byzantines decided to try to dislodge the knights from the mainland and behead the approaching conflict before it had rightly begun.



Heavily outnumbered and lacking any crossbows, it would be up to Prince Dieudonne to prove the mettle of his generalship. Having come to know the lay of the land in Greece during his youth, the prince quickly sought safety on a high hill and after a few maneuvers, forced the Byzantines to confront him directly on the slope.

As the Romans marched, Dieudonne's Dejma claimed a few lives but their arrows proved largely ineffectual against the heavy armour of the Varangian Guard making up the center and the prince prepared to reorganize as light infantry for the approaching hand to hand fighting.


Dieudonne's knights sweep across the flanks as the center charges at each other.

Then, as the Order Foot and Foot knights prepared to face the Varangians in battle, Dieudonne's knights and those of his second swept down either flank, leaving the armoured spearmen sent to receive their charges flat footed. Though the central Roman troops held their ground admirably despite their disadvantage, the knights smashed into the rear areas, throwing archers into disarray.


The front lines or Order Infantry and Varangian Guard clash. Hospitaller Foot Knights assault armoured spearmen in the foreground. The other company of armoured spearmen has been left for dead by the speed of Albergatti's knights.

"Lascaris!" the prince roared, as the Roman general shook where he stood. "Face me!" D:< As his position scattered in panic, the general quickly fled the field in terror. A command of Byzantine Cavalry, the only mounted troops suited to respond to the disaster, charged bravely at the knights, sacrificing themselves to buy the general time to escape.


The Romans lose hard. The Byzantine Cavalry in the bottom left eventually clash with the knights above them and defend their fleeing general to the last man and horse.

The War
The result was a glorious Hospitaller victory, though Prince Dieudonne later sent his commendations on the Byzantine Cavalry and the Varangian Guard who despite suffering 3/4 casualties, withdrew from the field in an orderly fashion. As a result of the victory, the prince was nominated a Skilled Defender, the placed in ultimate command of the war with Constantinople by his father, who slowing with age, contented to retire in Bulgaria, spending his days watching the Danube. However, with Hungarian military power always growing, it would be many years before the Hospitallers could muster their own attack and Byzantine ships continued to inflict dire casualties on the navy over the years.

The Bulgarians were moving during those years too, though as said before, their Tsar and all his princes got shot.

The Hospitallers finally marched on Constantinople in 1343 and took the hinterlands in a bloody battle on an uphill and heavily wooded field. Though the prince was eventually victorious by some margin, most of the order's knights were killed among the trees and the prince bitterly regretted the course of the battle. Nevertheless, the Hospitallers held Constantinople under siege for three years. Helion I died days before he would have seen his prize. The knights sacked the great city and Dieudonne ascended to the Grand Mastership within her crumbled walls.


1346: A year of ill omen.

In the aftermath, the Knights Hospitallers were heavily depleted and the ravages of the Great Mortality put to rest any hopes for a quick victory over the various remnants. Most of the standing knights had perished taking the city or died during the plague and the rest were critically needed to deter Hungarian attack as the kingdom was then at its peak of military power. At sea, a struggle against the remnants of the Byzantine navy continued.

On land, things would remain quiet for years before Dieudonne slowly resumed his pressure on the Byzantines.

(Note: Yeah, it looks like I could've just swept them up for more points then but I guess I was playing it overly cautious at the time and I was juggling troops between Serbia and Consie/Nicaea for a while debating which side to attack. I did take Nicaea around 1353 or so. The serious action should resume once I load save today. :p)