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Thread: A Cuman Campaign (long)
This is a series of reports on my Cuman campaign (XL mod, Early, Hard, GA. However, my personal goal for the campaign is to keep the Cumans alive and existent as a contiguous nation by 1453 and thus defeat the tide of history – in two previous ‘learning’ campaigns, the Cumans were hammered into oblivion by the Mongol invasion upon the anvil of a powerful Byzantium or Egypt). I will present with a pseudo-historical narrative (because I enjoy that part of developing the game) with campaign notes for those who might be interested in playing the Cumans. The first half of this was posted on the Entrance Hall (up to Chagatai Khan).
The Tribal Confederation
Batu I succeeded his father at the age of 28 in 1087. The Cuman nation could barely be glorified with that description, being little more than loose, and ever shifting alliances of tribes. The previous khan had built a small fortification in Levidia on the Black Sea coast, but visiting Westerners would have to fight hard not to smile when anyone described it as a ‘keep’. The territory which the Cumans called home stretched over the wastes of Lesser Khazar to the east, and the mountainous provinces of Moldavia and Wallachia to the west. The Crimean peninsula, home to fishermen and little else, completed the homelands. These provinces were governed by men with no loyalty save to themselves and who could barely read or write.
Unlike his forebears, Batu had journeyed among the Western civilisations and had been held hostage by the Byzantine emperor during the recent alliance that had brought Wallachia under his father’s control. He had learned some letters, and battle lore. But Batu Khan had no intention of remaining a Byzantine puppet king, waiting meekly till the emperor chose the moment of his nation’s oblivion. Whilst the east held some prospects of elbow room in the rebel held provinces, these were poor places indeed. The Cumans needed wealth before they could control their destiny. Surrounded as they were by expansionist eyes, protected only by their poverty, and that for only a few years at best, the steppe people had to have more money.
There were only two choices before him. The lands of Kiev or Carpathia. Attacking Kiev would bring down the Russians upon his head, and they had many borders to attack. Carpathia however, was ill-defended by the Hungarians, and held many riches in its mountains – copper, silver and above all – ironstone. Batu set in motion his plans.
Stripping the old governors of their titles, he appointed the few men he could find with education – and that he could trust. Lord Gostyata, now Duke of Crimea, was the best of these new men. Batu issued a decree that the old nomad ways were to be abandoned, and farming and forest clearance to be implemented in all provinces. He had watchtowers constructed along the Byzantine model he had seen and a fort built in the Crimea. He knew the civilised nobility of the west would expect appropriate ‘overtures’ and began the construction of a royal palace for the training and reception of emissaries. Lord Gostyata was made Chamberlain of the Khanate.
Campaign notes: The starting lands of the Cumans are very poor. They are also bordered on all sides by potential foes. Early expansion is a must and whilst the east is easy (Khazar and Georgia are bribable) only Georgia doesn’t add yet another border. Kiev is pretty heavily defended, and one shares a long series of borders with the Russians, so to start a war there will sap the strength of your armies.
Generals are usually poor – rarely a star to share among them – and low acumen is the order of the day. This trend is hard to reverse until you get more influence for the Khan. You have a limited range of units, so you want to try and get to Bashkorts as soon as possible, then to build towards Steppe Heavy Cavalry and Cuman Heavy Cavalry – then to Cuman Warriors, which are the core of your armies.
After two previous eastern expansions, I decided to try the more historical trek west – as nomad steppe armies did for thousands of years. Since you don’t start with a royal palace, getting emissaries is an important goal.
Into the Mountains
Over the next few years, Batu built armies in Levidia to protect the homelands and invade Carpathia. He sought an alliance with the Poles, which was rejected, but emissaries from the Turks and Sicilians sought him out. In 1096, his eldest son, also Batu, a proud and clever young warrior waited at the Carpathian border for the signal. To disguise the preparations, he combined the activity with his wedding to Princess Elena of Russia. This alliance, carefully negotiated, protected the whole northern border of the homelands. Conveniently, the massing of warriors on their border also looked to the Hungarians like an army review for the newly-weds. As summer waned, Prince Batu launched into the Carpathian mountains. The Hungarians, caught utterly unawares, fled into Hungary proper.
Batu Khan knew that the proud Hungarian king would not let his rich province go without a fight and so it proved. The battle of Carpathia, celebrated in song for a thousand years, was about to commence.
Prince Batu’s army consisted of three units of bashkorts, one of unreliable slav infantry, two of peasant archers, and two units of unarmoured spearmen – though oddly, over three quarters of one of these spears had gone missing during the unopposed march into Carpathia. A unit of steppe cavalry complemented his own armoured heavy Cuman cavalry. All the Cumans were untested, and he himself was untried but was known to have excelled in his studies (4-star). But the true tutor of war was death and the dealing of death on the battlefield.
The very next year, a huge Hungarian army marched back into Carpathia, over 1750 men strong. Batu was outnumbered more than 2 to 1, but he knew the odds meant little – the Carpathian mountains gave him the edge in defence. As the morning of the battle dawned, the sky was grey and leaden. Prince Batu deployed on the side of a steep hill that bordered a rocky valley and anchored his left flank into the forest that crowned the hill. Here lay the trembling slavs, their morale encouraged by fierce bashkorts behind them. Years later, the old men of the slavs would tell their grandchildren that they were sure the Cuman bashkorts would as readily have hurled their vicious javelins into their allies’ backs as let them run from the enemy. The Hungarians seemed much the lesser evil!
Spearmen and bashkorts made a long defensive line along the hill. Behind them stood archers, high on the ridge to shoot over the spearmen’s heads. The steppe cavalry hid on the far left flank within the woods. In an unorthodox and risky move, Batu placed the other unit of archers on a ridge in the valley, given scant protection by the rump unit of spears. This was a bait – or as some muttered darkly, a suicide mission. His own cavalry anchored the right flank.
As the army settled into its positions, the clouds glowered lower in the sky and black rain drenched them. The gods were evidently displeased, for the crucial archers would be rendered useless as their bowstrings stretched. But as the first enemy banners were glimpsed cresting the far hills through the fog, the gods relented and the clouds lifted.
The Hungarians had brought armoured spearmen and many units of horse archers. As the air cleared, Batu could also make out that half their army were slav infantry – not quite as worrying. A unit of horse archers charged ahead and tried to get in range. Just as they outpaced their troops and settled ready to shoot, the Cuman steppe cavalry charged from their hiding place and swept across the battlefield. The first sight the climbing Hungarian army saw as they puffed up the steep approach was their horse archers screaming for mercy and fleeing for the valley escape. The Cumans watched with satisfaction.
But now was time for the hard work. The Hungarian general was clearly anxious to get this over with – perhaps his king had been harsh over his earlier abandonment of the province. Whatever, his entire infantry marched straight up the hill, save for a unit of horse archers and three of feudal sergeants which charged straight for the isolated archers. The archers loosed their hail of death and then ran for the lines to take up their planned positions. As the tiring sergeants turned to chase them, the steppe cavalry who were now hiding in the woods on Batu’s far right flank after disposing of the first horse archers, charged down the hill into their rear. The Hungarians tried to turn and defend. Prince Batu then took the opportunity to charge with his heavy cavalry into the disordered infantry.
On his left flank, the puffing Hungarian spearmen engaged the entire Cuman line. The line held, but only just. The Hungarian general clearly thought it was ripe for a killer blow and charged his royal knights at the rightmost bashkorts. He had never encountered these strange, half-naked, wild men before. In addition, charging uphill was not the best idea he had ever had – it was however, his last idea. With the advantage of height, the bashkort storm of javelins hit just as the cavalry closed and wiped three-quarters of them out. The other astonished knights then died on the wild men’s spears. After the battle, the Hungarian general’s face had a look of utter amazement frozen into his death mask.
The Hungarians wavered when their general fell in full view. Their approaching reinforcements were being shredded by arrows from the high hill. Just then, the feudal sergeants on the right lost their will to keep dying to Batu’s cavalry, and ran. Already soaked with blood, Batu wheeled and charged his men into the trembling flank of the armoured spearmen across the valley. They broke and the entire Hungarian line peeled away like burnt skin. The steppe cavalry tore into the rear of some horse archers that were trying to support the centre. They too ran and the entire army routed for home.
All that was left was to chase them to their graves, and several hundred were hacked down on the long scramble for safety. Though the victory was in sight, Prince Batu had the hundreds of prisoners taken swiftly executed – he had no wish to face the same men next year and it was wise that the Hungarian king understood right away that this struggle was life and death to the Cumans.
It was an emphatic victory, though Prince Batu became known as a man with scant mercy and men feared being captured by him even more than facing him in battle. More than three times as many Hungarians had died than Cumans – though the Cuman army was more damaged than would be wished for. Nonetheless, the army was blooded, and each unit increased in reputation, experience and valour.
As it turned out, the following years justified Batu’s cruelty. The Hungarians refused an offer for ceasefire, but they dared not try again to visit the killing fields of their former province.
By the turn of the century in 1100, Carpathia was securely a part of the Cuman homeland.
Campaign Notes: The Bashkort is your best unit for a long time. Apart from vanilla spears and slav warriors, they are the only spear unit you can build in Early and High. In early you should mix with normal spearmen as they won’t be armoured enough to stand on their own and have no rank bonuses. They’re a bit of a mob! They combine javelins with acting as good spears and are murderous to early armoured horse – indeed most early armour suffers. However, they must IMO be deployed with height for full effect. Use the horse (archers or light cav) to bring the enemy to your core. When you can get Cuman Warriors (AP archers and effective swordsmen) the combination of the two units is very good. You must, as the centuries wear on, get them armoured up and valoured up as later catholic units will give them trouble. I’m still learning to use steppe cavalry effectively – they are very fast and wonderful for crushing routers, but die far too easily. Luckily, most of your potential opponents use a lot of horse archers early on and as you know, simply glaring at them produces a rout.
The Winter of the Three Caskets
The first decade of the 1100s saw the Byzantine empire begin to crumble under the assaults of the Turks and Egyptians. Khan Batu accepted an alliance with the Emperor to secure his southern border whilst consolidating his gains. Those Magyars that refused to accept the Khan’s rule were put to hard labour in the deepening mines of Carpathia.
In 1110, the Lithuanians appeared on Batu’s borders as they invaded Chernigov. At his daughter-in-law’s urging, the Khan sent a force into Chernigov to help repel the newcomers alongside the Russian defenders. After a short and fierce engagement, the Russian border was again restored and the north quietened.
But the kingdom was still founded on shifting sand, as the economic situation was very tight. Farms were built and more forests cleared, as well as armouries and workshops built. Yet each year saw less and less money. Then, in 1119, Batu Khan died of a sudden illness.
Khan Batu II was a clever, witty man, not well versed in letters and often abrupt. His first act was to secure alliances once more with Novgorod and the Turkish sultan, and his second to celebrate the birth of a son, who he named Chagatai. He quickly dismissed some of his incompetent governors and promoted cleverer men. Trying to manage his finances more effectively, he started to disband older and costlier units. It all seemed so well thought out. In 1127, the khan even reduced taxes to celebrate the wedding of his brother to another Russian princess. The Russian Prince was most appreciative of this gesture as war with Novgorod had descended upon him.
The laughter in the royal yurts fell silent in 1130 as Batu II fell ill and died after only eleven years on the throne. His brother Subudai acceded, for Batu’s son was still a minor. In later years, many looked back and wished the young warrior had taken the throne regardless, for the Winter of the Three Caskets was upon the land. Subudai was harsher than his brother, and raised tax again. It was with his last breath, for he too died within the year. The third brother, Temudur, a man of great physical beauty and charisma, but avaricious and gluttonous tastes took the throne.
Temudur was no warrior, and the chaos and uncertainty of the khanate encouraged the treacherous Poles and Hungarians, who watching the disbanding of armies, desperate building of farms, and other signs of weakness, had made a compact upon a holy relic to invade Carpathia under the generalship of the brave Prince Casimir. The Alliance army was 2500 strong against the adept governor but unmilitary Lord Zoilus’ 974. They chose the depth of winter, which in the Carpathians is most severe, and many Cumans froze to death as they waited for the hammer to fall. Their bowstrings cracked and their catapults iced solid. It was not until the vast horde was upon them that they could even see their enemy in the blizzard. Carpathia was lost.
Yet so arrogant were the Poles that they had emptied two provinces of all but a few old men, and so Temudur immediately counter attacked into Volhynia and Lesser Poland. This seemed to prompt Casimir to get it over with and he assaulted Carpathia castle – only to suffer a terrible defeat, losing three quarters of his army during a portentous thunderstorm. A relief force brought Carpathia back under the Khan’s writ, though the Alliance was spreading his forces too thin and he was forced to fall back from the Polish provinces and lost lightly defended Wallachia to the Hungarians. Worse, he discovered that his Russian allies, who had failed to come to his aid on the weakened Polish borders, were in truth sorely beset themselves by the People of Novgorod. As the Russian empire collapsed, Temudur (who had no particular love for the Russians unlike his brothers) allied instead with the north Rus. He hoped to strike at Kiev if the chance came, for the economy was as ill as the Russian kingdom.
In 1139 the gods finally tired of the sons of Batu I, and Temudur took the last of the three caskets. The age of fear, invasion and catastrophe was at an end. The golden reign of Chagatai the Great had begun.
Campaign Notes: I had to find ways of making money and given Batu II’s character, reducing the armies and building diplomatic ties seemed sensible. As it turned out, it was nearly fatal. Dropping taxes seemed necessary despite the squeeze, for governors and generals were coming out with truly awful vices. Cuman kings tend to have a lot of children in succeeding years, so the brother syndrome is often met – this early time was one of the worst, dropping influence and V&Vs really low.
The alliance between Hungary and Poland was a hammer blow. Useless generals and no money – encouraging combination! The winter battle in Carpathia was one of the worse conditions I have ever seen – thick blizzards and useless archers – and without bows, Cuman defence is doomed. Since the AI then assaulted the castle, with siege engines, I thought the game was up, but I was able to mount an unbelievable defence after the siege engines were shot up, and the Poles simply died in the crush at the gates.
I felt bad about cancelling the alliance with Russia (given the half Russian blood of my princes) but they had not aided me by troubling Poland and were clearly doomed. Interestingly, the career of my greatest diplomat Tobdun Menashe began in 1136 by negotiating a ceasefire with the Hungarians after the siege of Carpathia which immediately turned into an alliance. This was cancelled by the Magyars on the next turn for fighting with the Poles, but they turned from a mortal enemy into a quiet neighbour.
The Greatest Khan
Chagatai Khan succeeded to the Wolf-skin Throne in 1138 at the age of twenty—three. He married Maria of Russia the same year. He was a great warrior, powerfully built and charismatic. After producing three sons in as many years, he set about the careful rebuilding of the kingdom. Peace, even a short period, was a blessing to his people and he used his influence to keep other nations at bay, though the mortal struggle between Byzantium and the Turks was now at its apogee and all eyes were turned towards the east.
The Poles, however, still smouldered with anger and in 1146 attacked the homeland in Levidia. The Khan led an army to the border and the Poles quailed, leaving in a hurry. At his battle camp, disturbing reports reached Chagatai. His cousin Batu, who had thought to gain the throne, had begun to show signs of serious madness. The Khan sent physicians, but too late – Batu, who was convinced of an amorous affair with an elephant, took the whole army of Moldavia on an invasion of Lesser Poland as he believed that his beloved had been abducted there. The army was lost along with the lunatic, who at least had died bravely challenging the might of the Polish – who luckily for Cuman reputation, had not understood his demands for the release of the illusory pachyderm.
In 1160, Chagatai Khan set in motion the most risky and ambitious plan for the future of the kingdom. He abandoned the eastern homelands of Levidia, Crimea and Lesser Khazar, razing them to the ground and leaving only token garrisons. The khan led the entire army west to Carpathia and then into Hungary. The Hungarian king fled, and his kingdom dissolved into civil war. A rebel army stayed to defend their home, but was crushed. The growing reputation of the emissary Tobdun Menashe was enhanced when he bribed the rebels of Austria to join the Khan.
The treacherous Byzantines then invaded Moldavia and split the kingdom in two. Chagatai invaded their province of Bulgaria, but fell back and took Croatia. The Hungarians counter-attacked into Hungary from Serbia, but were beaten.
Chagatai the Great died in 1173 after 35 years on the throne.. He had transformed his people from a nervous eastern target into a Balkan power. In his last year, the Byzantine emperor himself offered the hand of his daughter to Chagatai’s son to seal a peace. A great general, a noble khan, we shall not see his like again.
Campaign Notes:For once, the Byzantine Empire was in disarray on my borders. The Turks and the Egyptians were actually attacking and winning. As you can guess, Batu, my only five star general went unhinged. For role-playing purposes, while he needed to die in battle (no assassins yet) I allowed him to take the army of Moldavia on his suicide mission which seriously weakened me – so I had a penalty to using game mechanics to rid me of a problem. The mad fool damn near won too! Mind you, Chagatai’s sons all compensated soon after – suddenly I had two five star and a six star general.
I decided that the only way to expand was to take the Hungarian lands – rich, two iron provinces and much more defensible. Whilst the GA conditions meant that losing the homelands was a penalty, I was more concerned with survival. In the event, the alliance with the People of Novgorod held and they never invaded the very lightly defended lands in the east – I only lost Moldavia to the Byzzies. I stripped all improvements from the lands as I was sure I would lose them – maybe this made them less attractive to invaders. A gamble that paid off!
Chagatai finished with 8 influence, 7 command and 5 acumen. His sons of course, all benefited as did the loyalty of the kingdom which meant (with a bit of judicious tax management) that the eastern provinces stayed loyal throughout being split away.
The Roots of Gold
Khan Subudai II was a very well-educated man (his father had seen to that) and a great general. He built to ensure the happiness of his people and defend their gains while they became used to their new, rich homelands. He watched as the Greek peninsula was ravaged by war between the Egyptians and the Byzantines, waiting for an opportunity to steal the wealthy lands of Greece.
In 1181 there was a shock. The lightly defended Crimea was invaded by a jihad from an unknown people, the Almohads. Astonishingly, the bashkort garrison inflicted so many casualties on the invaders by hiding in the trees and butchering their disordered cavalry, that the Crimea was easily taken back by forces from Levidia.
Prince Temudur, brother of the Khan and the kingdom’s greatest general invaded Wallachia to retake it from the Hungarians in 1185. After a brilliant outflanking manoeuvre brought him down from his strong hilltop position, the Hungarian king was killed by bashkorts and his faction passed into history.
Meanwhile, the Byzantine empire, pressed from all sides, fell into civil war. Tobdun Menashe raced to Constantinople and bribed the army there. A year later, Emperor Nicephorus IV treacherously betrayed his daughter and the alliance and invaded Levidia across the sea. Furious beyond belief, Subudai ordered the sack of Constantinople and after a thousand years of history, the heart of the Roman heirs was torn into rubble and burned flesh. Naught was left, not even the crows were able to feed.
The Emperor sought revenge by invading Carpathia. Though his kataphraktoi were fearsome, they died to the endless hail of arrows from the Cuman warriors as they puffed and struggled up the sheer hillsides of the Carpathian mountains. Bashkorts skewered the last few and the armoured steppe heavy cavalry rode down the archers from Trebizond. Levidia, proud and unsuppressed by the small Byzantine force, rose up in revolt and chased them from its shores. Temudur invaded Greece and added its wealth to the kingdom of his brother.
The only cloud now on Subudai’s horizon was the lack of an heir. Some say that after her father’s betrayal, he could not bring himself to bed his Byzantine wife. However, whether ‘twas from a vengeful rage, or because the sweet wine of victory brings reconciliation to the hardest heart, the queen bore a son in 1192, Subudai’s fifty-second year. Four more were to follow. In the same year, the noble general Salih as Salih, the outlander who had gifted Constantinople to his new khan invaded Moldavia and lay the restored province and reunited kingdom before the throne of his patron. He was rewarded with the Governorship of the city he had gifted, and set the task of rebuilding it as a Cuman province.
In 1203, perhaps as a result of the exertions that a new passion brings to an old man, Subudai II died, a worthy son of his illustrious father. Under his leadership, the Cumans had a kingdom that would be worthy of being named ‘Empire’. The task that fell to his brother Temudur was to defend it.
Campaign Notes: Cuman Warriors and Steppe Heavy Cavalry are now available and with Carpathia and Hungary having iron deposits, and armourers built, become quite powerful as they can join melee. The wars helped increase valour. I used Serbia, Hungary and Carpathia to build the bulk of my armies, specialising for bashkorts, cavalry and Cuman warriors when possible (though more cavalry units meant H&C spent most time with them). Austria was left reasonably alone as being a frontier province meant it was still a target. Greece started to build towards shipbuilding and strategic agents.
My standard army was now: Four units each of bashkorts and Cuman warriors. Four units of Steppe Heavy Cavalry, two units of Cuman Heavy Cavalry (usually the general’s unit as one) and two of Steppe Cavalry. This is powerful for defence or attack, but for attack I might replace a bashkort with SHC, and defence might lose a CHC for a CW. The Balkans are very defensible – all with serious hills and woods, absolutely ideal for this kind of army. The enemy trudges for a long way under a mobile hail of armour piercing arrows, chasing after shadows until it reaches a hill which showers it with death – javelins and arrows. Meanwhile, SHC sit behind them so the arrows come from everywhere. Even the best morale troops fail under this scenario – and if they need any encouragement, a flank attach by the katank look-alike CHC and the SHC from the rear provokes a serious discussion of the merits of becoming fertiliser for edelweiss. The incredibly fast Steppe Cavalry ensures that few get home to repent of their folly.
Talking of folly, in these situations the AI seems to favour an uphill charge by its mounted and armoured general who is always pin-cushioned by bashkort javelins.
Even if this army gets flanked, the Cuman warriors being serious swordsmen can stand against most units until bashkorts can get there. Armoured, high morale units can make a fight of things, and maybe in the later High and Late periods we will stop being able to fight on even terms.
The Tribal Confederation
Batu I succeeded his father at the age of 28 in 1087. The Cuman nation could barely be glorified with that description, being little more than loose, and ever shifting alliances of tribes. The previous khan had built a small fortification in Levidia on the Black Sea coast, but visiting Westerners would have to fight hard not to smile when anyone described it as a ‘keep’. The territory which the Cumans called home stretched over the wastes of Lesser Khazar to the east, and the mountainous provinces of Moldavia and Wallachia to the west. The Crimean peninsula, home to fishermen and little else, completed the homelands. These provinces were governed by men with no loyalty save to themselves and who could barely read or write.
Unlike his forebears, Batu had journeyed among the Western civilisations and had been held hostage by the Byzantine emperor during the recent alliance that had brought Wallachia under his father’s control. He had learned some letters, and battle lore. But Batu Khan had no intention of remaining a Byzantine puppet king, waiting meekly till the emperor chose the moment of his nation’s oblivion. Whilst the east held some prospects of elbow room in the rebel held provinces, these were poor places indeed. The Cumans needed wealth before they could control their destiny. Surrounded as they were by expansionist eyes, protected only by their poverty, and that for only a few years at best, the steppe people had to have more money.
There were only two choices before him. The lands of Kiev or Carpathia. Attacking Kiev would bring down the Russians upon his head, and they had many borders to attack. Carpathia however, was ill-defended by the Hungarians, and held many riches in its mountains – copper, silver and above all – ironstone. Batu set in motion his plans.
Stripping the old governors of their titles, he appointed the few men he could find with education – and that he could trust. Lord Gostyata, now Duke of Crimea, was the best of these new men. Batu issued a decree that the old nomad ways were to be abandoned, and farming and forest clearance to be implemented in all provinces. He had watchtowers constructed along the Byzantine model he had seen and a fort built in the Crimea. He knew the civilised nobility of the west would expect appropriate ‘overtures’ and began the construction of a royal palace for the training and reception of emissaries. Lord Gostyata was made Chamberlain of the Khanate.
Campaign notes: The starting lands of the Cumans are very poor. They are also bordered on all sides by potential foes. Early expansion is a must and whilst the east is easy (Khazar and Georgia are bribable) only Georgia doesn’t add yet another border. Kiev is pretty heavily defended, and one shares a long series of borders with the Russians, so to start a war there will sap the strength of your armies.
Generals are usually poor – rarely a star to share among them – and low acumen is the order of the day. This trend is hard to reverse until you get more influence for the Khan. You have a limited range of units, so you want to try and get to Bashkorts as soon as possible, then to build towards Steppe Heavy Cavalry and Cuman Heavy Cavalry – then to Cuman Warriors, which are the core of your armies.
After two previous eastern expansions, I decided to try the more historical trek west – as nomad steppe armies did for thousands of years. Since you don’t start with a royal palace, getting emissaries is an important goal.
Into the Mountains
Over the next few years, Batu built armies in Levidia to protect the homelands and invade Carpathia. He sought an alliance with the Poles, which was rejected, but emissaries from the Turks and Sicilians sought him out. In 1096, his eldest son, also Batu, a proud and clever young warrior waited at the Carpathian border for the signal. To disguise the preparations, he combined the activity with his wedding to Princess Elena of Russia. This alliance, carefully negotiated, protected the whole northern border of the homelands. Conveniently, the massing of warriors on their border also looked to the Hungarians like an army review for the newly-weds. As summer waned, Prince Batu launched into the Carpathian mountains. The Hungarians, caught utterly unawares, fled into Hungary proper.
Batu Khan knew that the proud Hungarian king would not let his rich province go without a fight and so it proved. The battle of Carpathia, celebrated in song for a thousand years, was about to commence.
Prince Batu’s army consisted of three units of bashkorts, one of unreliable slav infantry, two of peasant archers, and two units of unarmoured spearmen – though oddly, over three quarters of one of these spears had gone missing during the unopposed march into Carpathia. A unit of steppe cavalry complemented his own armoured heavy Cuman cavalry. All the Cumans were untested, and he himself was untried but was known to have excelled in his studies (4-star). But the true tutor of war was death and the dealing of death on the battlefield.
The very next year, a huge Hungarian army marched back into Carpathia, over 1750 men strong. Batu was outnumbered more than 2 to 1, but he knew the odds meant little – the Carpathian mountains gave him the edge in defence. As the morning of the battle dawned, the sky was grey and leaden. Prince Batu deployed on the side of a steep hill that bordered a rocky valley and anchored his left flank into the forest that crowned the hill. Here lay the trembling slavs, their morale encouraged by fierce bashkorts behind them. Years later, the old men of the slavs would tell their grandchildren that they were sure the Cuman bashkorts would as readily have hurled their vicious javelins into their allies’ backs as let them run from the enemy. The Hungarians seemed much the lesser evil!
Spearmen and bashkorts made a long defensive line along the hill. Behind them stood archers, high on the ridge to shoot over the spearmen’s heads. The steppe cavalry hid on the far left flank within the woods. In an unorthodox and risky move, Batu placed the other unit of archers on a ridge in the valley, given scant protection by the rump unit of spears. This was a bait – or as some muttered darkly, a suicide mission. His own cavalry anchored the right flank.
As the army settled into its positions, the clouds glowered lower in the sky and black rain drenched them. The gods were evidently displeased, for the crucial archers would be rendered useless as their bowstrings stretched. But as the first enemy banners were glimpsed cresting the far hills through the fog, the gods relented and the clouds lifted.
The Hungarians had brought armoured spearmen and many units of horse archers. As the air cleared, Batu could also make out that half their army were slav infantry – not quite as worrying. A unit of horse archers charged ahead and tried to get in range. Just as they outpaced their troops and settled ready to shoot, the Cuman steppe cavalry charged from their hiding place and swept across the battlefield. The first sight the climbing Hungarian army saw as they puffed up the steep approach was their horse archers screaming for mercy and fleeing for the valley escape. The Cumans watched with satisfaction.
But now was time for the hard work. The Hungarian general was clearly anxious to get this over with – perhaps his king had been harsh over his earlier abandonment of the province. Whatever, his entire infantry marched straight up the hill, save for a unit of horse archers and three of feudal sergeants which charged straight for the isolated archers. The archers loosed their hail of death and then ran for the lines to take up their planned positions. As the tiring sergeants turned to chase them, the steppe cavalry who were now hiding in the woods on Batu’s far right flank after disposing of the first horse archers, charged down the hill into their rear. The Hungarians tried to turn and defend. Prince Batu then took the opportunity to charge with his heavy cavalry into the disordered infantry.
On his left flank, the puffing Hungarian spearmen engaged the entire Cuman line. The line held, but only just. The Hungarian general clearly thought it was ripe for a killer blow and charged his royal knights at the rightmost bashkorts. He had never encountered these strange, half-naked, wild men before. In addition, charging uphill was not the best idea he had ever had – it was however, his last idea. With the advantage of height, the bashkort storm of javelins hit just as the cavalry closed and wiped three-quarters of them out. The other astonished knights then died on the wild men’s spears. After the battle, the Hungarian general’s face had a look of utter amazement frozen into his death mask.
The Hungarians wavered when their general fell in full view. Their approaching reinforcements were being shredded by arrows from the high hill. Just then, the feudal sergeants on the right lost their will to keep dying to Batu’s cavalry, and ran. Already soaked with blood, Batu wheeled and charged his men into the trembling flank of the armoured spearmen across the valley. They broke and the entire Hungarian line peeled away like burnt skin. The steppe cavalry tore into the rear of some horse archers that were trying to support the centre. They too ran and the entire army routed for home.
All that was left was to chase them to their graves, and several hundred were hacked down on the long scramble for safety. Though the victory was in sight, Prince Batu had the hundreds of prisoners taken swiftly executed – he had no wish to face the same men next year and it was wise that the Hungarian king understood right away that this struggle was life and death to the Cumans.
It was an emphatic victory, though Prince Batu became known as a man with scant mercy and men feared being captured by him even more than facing him in battle. More than three times as many Hungarians had died than Cumans – though the Cuman army was more damaged than would be wished for. Nonetheless, the army was blooded, and each unit increased in reputation, experience and valour.
As it turned out, the following years justified Batu’s cruelty. The Hungarians refused an offer for ceasefire, but they dared not try again to visit the killing fields of their former province.
By the turn of the century in 1100, Carpathia was securely a part of the Cuman homeland.
Campaign Notes: The Bashkort is your best unit for a long time. Apart from vanilla spears and slav warriors, they are the only spear unit you can build in Early and High. In early you should mix with normal spearmen as they won’t be armoured enough to stand on their own and have no rank bonuses. They’re a bit of a mob! They combine javelins with acting as good spears and are murderous to early armoured horse – indeed most early armour suffers. However, they must IMO be deployed with height for full effect. Use the horse (archers or light cav) to bring the enemy to your core. When you can get Cuman Warriors (AP archers and effective swordsmen) the combination of the two units is very good. You must, as the centuries wear on, get them armoured up and valoured up as later catholic units will give them trouble. I’m still learning to use steppe cavalry effectively – they are very fast and wonderful for crushing routers, but die far too easily. Luckily, most of your potential opponents use a lot of horse archers early on and as you know, simply glaring at them produces a rout.
The Winter of the Three Caskets
The first decade of the 1100s saw the Byzantine empire begin to crumble under the assaults of the Turks and Egyptians. Khan Batu accepted an alliance with the Emperor to secure his southern border whilst consolidating his gains. Those Magyars that refused to accept the Khan’s rule were put to hard labour in the deepening mines of Carpathia.
In 1110, the Lithuanians appeared on Batu’s borders as they invaded Chernigov. At his daughter-in-law’s urging, the Khan sent a force into Chernigov to help repel the newcomers alongside the Russian defenders. After a short and fierce engagement, the Russian border was again restored and the north quietened.
But the kingdom was still founded on shifting sand, as the economic situation was very tight. Farms were built and more forests cleared, as well as armouries and workshops built. Yet each year saw less and less money. Then, in 1119, Batu Khan died of a sudden illness.
Khan Batu II was a clever, witty man, not well versed in letters and often abrupt. His first act was to secure alliances once more with Novgorod and the Turkish sultan, and his second to celebrate the birth of a son, who he named Chagatai. He quickly dismissed some of his incompetent governors and promoted cleverer men. Trying to manage his finances more effectively, he started to disband older and costlier units. It all seemed so well thought out. In 1127, the khan even reduced taxes to celebrate the wedding of his brother to another Russian princess. The Russian Prince was most appreciative of this gesture as war with Novgorod had descended upon him.
The laughter in the royal yurts fell silent in 1130 as Batu II fell ill and died after only eleven years on the throne. His brother Subudai acceded, for Batu’s son was still a minor. In later years, many looked back and wished the young warrior had taken the throne regardless, for the Winter of the Three Caskets was upon the land. Subudai was harsher than his brother, and raised tax again. It was with his last breath, for he too died within the year. The third brother, Temudur, a man of great physical beauty and charisma, but avaricious and gluttonous tastes took the throne.
Temudur was no warrior, and the chaos and uncertainty of the khanate encouraged the treacherous Poles and Hungarians, who watching the disbanding of armies, desperate building of farms, and other signs of weakness, had made a compact upon a holy relic to invade Carpathia under the generalship of the brave Prince Casimir. The Alliance army was 2500 strong against the adept governor but unmilitary Lord Zoilus’ 974. They chose the depth of winter, which in the Carpathians is most severe, and many Cumans froze to death as they waited for the hammer to fall. Their bowstrings cracked and their catapults iced solid. It was not until the vast horde was upon them that they could even see their enemy in the blizzard. Carpathia was lost.
Yet so arrogant were the Poles that they had emptied two provinces of all but a few old men, and so Temudur immediately counter attacked into Volhynia and Lesser Poland. This seemed to prompt Casimir to get it over with and he assaulted Carpathia castle – only to suffer a terrible defeat, losing three quarters of his army during a portentous thunderstorm. A relief force brought Carpathia back under the Khan’s writ, though the Alliance was spreading his forces too thin and he was forced to fall back from the Polish provinces and lost lightly defended Wallachia to the Hungarians. Worse, he discovered that his Russian allies, who had failed to come to his aid on the weakened Polish borders, were in truth sorely beset themselves by the People of Novgorod. As the Russian empire collapsed, Temudur (who had no particular love for the Russians unlike his brothers) allied instead with the north Rus. He hoped to strike at Kiev if the chance came, for the economy was as ill as the Russian kingdom.
In 1139 the gods finally tired of the sons of Batu I, and Temudur took the last of the three caskets. The age of fear, invasion and catastrophe was at an end. The golden reign of Chagatai the Great had begun.
Campaign Notes: I had to find ways of making money and given Batu II’s character, reducing the armies and building diplomatic ties seemed sensible. As it turned out, it was nearly fatal. Dropping taxes seemed necessary despite the squeeze, for governors and generals were coming out with truly awful vices. Cuman kings tend to have a lot of children in succeeding years, so the brother syndrome is often met – this early time was one of the worst, dropping influence and V&Vs really low.
The alliance between Hungary and Poland was a hammer blow. Useless generals and no money – encouraging combination! The winter battle in Carpathia was one of the worse conditions I have ever seen – thick blizzards and useless archers – and without bows, Cuman defence is doomed. Since the AI then assaulted the castle, with siege engines, I thought the game was up, but I was able to mount an unbelievable defence after the siege engines were shot up, and the Poles simply died in the crush at the gates.
I felt bad about cancelling the alliance with Russia (given the half Russian blood of my princes) but they had not aided me by troubling Poland and were clearly doomed. Interestingly, the career of my greatest diplomat Tobdun Menashe began in 1136 by negotiating a ceasefire with the Hungarians after the siege of Carpathia which immediately turned into an alliance. This was cancelled by the Magyars on the next turn for fighting with the Poles, but they turned from a mortal enemy into a quiet neighbour.
The Greatest Khan
Chagatai Khan succeeded to the Wolf-skin Throne in 1138 at the age of twenty—three. He married Maria of Russia the same year. He was a great warrior, powerfully built and charismatic. After producing three sons in as many years, he set about the careful rebuilding of the kingdom. Peace, even a short period, was a blessing to his people and he used his influence to keep other nations at bay, though the mortal struggle between Byzantium and the Turks was now at its apogee and all eyes were turned towards the east.
The Poles, however, still smouldered with anger and in 1146 attacked the homeland in Levidia. The Khan led an army to the border and the Poles quailed, leaving in a hurry. At his battle camp, disturbing reports reached Chagatai. His cousin Batu, who had thought to gain the throne, had begun to show signs of serious madness. The Khan sent physicians, but too late – Batu, who was convinced of an amorous affair with an elephant, took the whole army of Moldavia on an invasion of Lesser Poland as he believed that his beloved had been abducted there. The army was lost along with the lunatic, who at least had died bravely challenging the might of the Polish – who luckily for Cuman reputation, had not understood his demands for the release of the illusory pachyderm.
In 1160, Chagatai Khan set in motion the most risky and ambitious plan for the future of the kingdom. He abandoned the eastern homelands of Levidia, Crimea and Lesser Khazar, razing them to the ground and leaving only token garrisons. The khan led the entire army west to Carpathia and then into Hungary. The Hungarian king fled, and his kingdom dissolved into civil war. A rebel army stayed to defend their home, but was crushed. The growing reputation of the emissary Tobdun Menashe was enhanced when he bribed the rebels of Austria to join the Khan.
The treacherous Byzantines then invaded Moldavia and split the kingdom in two. Chagatai invaded their province of Bulgaria, but fell back and took Croatia. The Hungarians counter-attacked into Hungary from Serbia, but were beaten.
Chagatai the Great died in 1173 after 35 years on the throne.. He had transformed his people from a nervous eastern target into a Balkan power. In his last year, the Byzantine emperor himself offered the hand of his daughter to Chagatai’s son to seal a peace. A great general, a noble khan, we shall not see his like again.
Campaign Notes:For once, the Byzantine Empire was in disarray on my borders. The Turks and the Egyptians were actually attacking and winning. As you can guess, Batu, my only five star general went unhinged. For role-playing purposes, while he needed to die in battle (no assassins yet) I allowed him to take the army of Moldavia on his suicide mission which seriously weakened me – so I had a penalty to using game mechanics to rid me of a problem. The mad fool damn near won too! Mind you, Chagatai’s sons all compensated soon after – suddenly I had two five star and a six star general.
I decided that the only way to expand was to take the Hungarian lands – rich, two iron provinces and much more defensible. Whilst the GA conditions meant that losing the homelands was a penalty, I was more concerned with survival. In the event, the alliance with the People of Novgorod held and they never invaded the very lightly defended lands in the east – I only lost Moldavia to the Byzzies. I stripped all improvements from the lands as I was sure I would lose them – maybe this made them less attractive to invaders. A gamble that paid off!
Chagatai finished with 8 influence, 7 command and 5 acumen. His sons of course, all benefited as did the loyalty of the kingdom which meant (with a bit of judicious tax management) that the eastern provinces stayed loyal throughout being split away.
The Roots of Gold
Khan Subudai II was a very well-educated man (his father had seen to that) and a great general. He built to ensure the happiness of his people and defend their gains while they became used to their new, rich homelands. He watched as the Greek peninsula was ravaged by war between the Egyptians and the Byzantines, waiting for an opportunity to steal the wealthy lands of Greece.
In 1181 there was a shock. The lightly defended Crimea was invaded by a jihad from an unknown people, the Almohads. Astonishingly, the bashkort garrison inflicted so many casualties on the invaders by hiding in the trees and butchering their disordered cavalry, that the Crimea was easily taken back by forces from Levidia.
Prince Temudur, brother of the Khan and the kingdom’s greatest general invaded Wallachia to retake it from the Hungarians in 1185. After a brilliant outflanking manoeuvre brought him down from his strong hilltop position, the Hungarian king was killed by bashkorts and his faction passed into history.
Meanwhile, the Byzantine empire, pressed from all sides, fell into civil war. Tobdun Menashe raced to Constantinople and bribed the army there. A year later, Emperor Nicephorus IV treacherously betrayed his daughter and the alliance and invaded Levidia across the sea. Furious beyond belief, Subudai ordered the sack of Constantinople and after a thousand years of history, the heart of the Roman heirs was torn into rubble and burned flesh. Naught was left, not even the crows were able to feed.
The Emperor sought revenge by invading Carpathia. Though his kataphraktoi were fearsome, they died to the endless hail of arrows from the Cuman warriors as they puffed and struggled up the sheer hillsides of the Carpathian mountains. Bashkorts skewered the last few and the armoured steppe heavy cavalry rode down the archers from Trebizond. Levidia, proud and unsuppressed by the small Byzantine force, rose up in revolt and chased them from its shores. Temudur invaded Greece and added its wealth to the kingdom of his brother.
The only cloud now on Subudai’s horizon was the lack of an heir. Some say that after her father’s betrayal, he could not bring himself to bed his Byzantine wife. However, whether ‘twas from a vengeful rage, or because the sweet wine of victory brings reconciliation to the hardest heart, the queen bore a son in 1192, Subudai’s fifty-second year. Four more were to follow. In the same year, the noble general Salih as Salih, the outlander who had gifted Constantinople to his new khan invaded Moldavia and lay the restored province and reunited kingdom before the throne of his patron. He was rewarded with the Governorship of the city he had gifted, and set the task of rebuilding it as a Cuman province.
In 1203, perhaps as a result of the exertions that a new passion brings to an old man, Subudai II died, a worthy son of his illustrious father. Under his leadership, the Cumans had a kingdom that would be worthy of being named ‘Empire’. The task that fell to his brother Temudur was to defend it.
Campaign Notes: Cuman Warriors and Steppe Heavy Cavalry are now available and with Carpathia and Hungary having iron deposits, and armourers built, become quite powerful as they can join melee. The wars helped increase valour. I used Serbia, Hungary and Carpathia to build the bulk of my armies, specialising for bashkorts, cavalry and Cuman warriors when possible (though more cavalry units meant H&C spent most time with them). Austria was left reasonably alone as being a frontier province meant it was still a target. Greece started to build towards shipbuilding and strategic agents.
My standard army was now: Four units each of bashkorts and Cuman warriors. Four units of Steppe Heavy Cavalry, two units of Cuman Heavy Cavalry (usually the general’s unit as one) and two of Steppe Cavalry. This is powerful for defence or attack, but for attack I might replace a bashkort with SHC, and defence might lose a CHC for a CW. The Balkans are very defensible – all with serious hills and woods, absolutely ideal for this kind of army. The enemy trudges for a long way under a mobile hail of armour piercing arrows, chasing after shadows until it reaches a hill which showers it with death – javelins and arrows. Meanwhile, SHC sit behind them so the arrows come from everywhere. Even the best morale troops fail under this scenario – and if they need any encouragement, a flank attach by the katank look-alike CHC and the SHC from the rear provokes a serious discussion of the merits of becoming fertiliser for edelweiss. The incredibly fast Steppe Cavalry ensures that few get home to repent of their folly.
Talking of folly, in these situations the AI seems to favour an uphill charge by its mounted and armoured general who is always pin-cushioned by bashkort javelins.
Even if this army gets flanked, the Cuman warriors being serious swordsmen can stand against most units until bashkorts can get there. Armoured, high morale units can make a fight of things, and maybe in the later High and Late periods we will stop being able to fight on even terms.
That's awesome, Haruchai. I can't wait to hear more! 
The Lamentation of His Women
Temudur Khan was an even greater warrior than his elder brother. He had led the army to many great victories and was renowned as a skilled attacker. Even more skilled in matters of finance, the kingdom prospered immediately and envoys (whose silver-tongues must be treated with care) reported that the Cumans were now known as the richest nation among the civilised tribes. Quite a march from the poverty stricken days of the steppe!
This golden time was not to last however, for Temudur, made prematurely old by years of campaign bivouacs and warrior’s rations died after only three years’ rule. His brother Khogibag took the crown – an incredibly brave man, but not bright and only a competent commander. In 1211, he initiated a war with the recalcitrant Polish, who had never agreed a ceasefire from the early days of his grandfather. Gathering several armies, he invaded Lesser Poland and Volhynia, which the Poles abandoned without a fight. That is, until the following year when they invaded Volhynia with an enormous army of 3000. Lord as Salih fought a close battle with the army of Poles, coming close to defeat as the Polish retainers ravaged his troops on the flank. But the cavalry could not stand the combined damage of the arrows and javelins that rained upon them, and finally broke when their king died.
Meanwhile, Khogibag seized an opportunity when the remnants of the Byzantine empire lost most of their army repulsing a Turkish attack on Nicaea. He charged in from Greece and took the rich province. The Byzantine Emperor immediately counter-attacked with everything he had save some troops in Bulgaria. On the hills of Nicaea they died in their multitudes, even the famous kataphrakts. The Emperor died with them, a brave but foolish man who had betrayed an alliance with the wrong people. He had no heirs and Byzantium became a memory – albeit one that would return to haunt those of a nervous disposition.
The Poles, however, though crushed and left with only Silesia and Greater Poland, proudly refused a truce. They sneered at the Cuman envoys and dared Khogibag to come to them. This display of defiance in the face of oblivion impressed the bluff old soldier and he pulled his armies back from the border. The Poles could fume and feel aggrieved all they wanted. His empire was big enough.
An emissary of France, now an emerging power, came to court to seek an alliance against the Holy Roman Emperor, but after much discussion no advantage could be seen in this as the Germans shared a border, whereas the French, as yet, did not. The Turks however, re-established their old alliance and it seemed as if peace would return to the kingdom.
Khogibag Khan died in 1216, succeeded by Ogadai, grandson of Chagatai the Great. As his grandsire had done, he married the same year, but to a strange foreign princess from Scotland, Brunilde. The new khan was hoped to be even more illustrious than his forebears, but he was a strange and bizarre man and generals worried at his moods. His first act however was to watch the Germans collapse into civil war and take advantage by reversing the decision of his uncle and ally with the French. He then had a son in celebration.
Messengers reported in 1220 that a little known member of the Imperial Byzantine family had survived in Crete. Investigation showed that the army of loyalists he had raised was now trapped on the island with no way off. Ogadai began building ships to protect his coastline and keep it that way.
After years of sending bishops to convert the pagan Cumans in Croatia and Austria, most of whom the khans favoured with martyrdom, the Pope suddenly decided that direct action was better for his place in history. A large army charged out of Venice and into Croatia. For reasons best known to himself, he had brought mainly siege engines and bowmen, which on the steep hills of the Balkans died in fearsome quantities. Lord Amdai Morut followed the fleeing remnants into Venice and took its riches for the khan. This was a province to keep!
Ogadai Khan was making himself deeply distrusted with his vivid accounts of dreams – dreams that always involved clouds of black flies. In 1224, scouts reported events far to the east that turned these dreams into portents – a vast Mongol Horde was on the move from China. Ogadai was sanguine – these steppe brothers were no threat to him this far west. He was more saddened by the sudden death from age of the famous and much loved outlander, Salih as Salih.
Clearly unable to learn from the Pope’s experiences, the King of Bohemia – who had spent many years offering his daughters for gain – decided to invade Austria. Once again, mountains and Cuman warriors taught him a lesson, but the real damage was that the People of Novgorod and the Turks took the opportunity to cancel their long standing alliances. Ogadai anticipated the invasion of his still lightly defended eastern provinces, but still took the time to smash Jan II of Bohemia’s army and take his home province away.
Novgorod did not stir – perhaps their eyes looked further east. The treacherous Turk however, immediately sank a Cuman ship in the Black Sea. Then they invaded Lesser Khazar, Constantinople by sea and Nicaea. Khazar could not be defended, but a heavy defeat was inflicted on the Turks in Nicaea – whereas they fled from Constantinople as soon as they came. Then the world turned and a terrifying rumbling was heard from the east. In 1230, a massive army of the Golden Horde appeared in Khazar, butchering the Turkish garrison.
Campaign Notes: The standard army worked well in all these battles, even outnumbered heavily. Because most were defensive, enemy armies had a real problem with the height of these homelands – almost a natural fortress in each province. I don’t understand why the Bohemians made such a rash move – there were plenty of rebel provinces from the collapse of the HRE on their border and they chose to attack their dominant neighbour. The Pope is an idiot – he had no chance with an army of trebuchets!
Salih as Salih provided an interesting twist. He was a four star general with an army of Muslim units - Saharan cavalry, javelin infantry and camels which made me think very hard about their battle tactics alongside my own familiar troops. Sadly, the camels were so unfamiliar in the grasslands of the Balkans they got killed more quickly than I would have liked - and were unable to be trained back to strength.
Whilst I as a player know the Golden Horde appear in 1230, I make a point of not preparing until two or three years before (ie as if I had no inkling). Since Europe was caught unawares, for me personally it seems unfair to over-prepare. Perhaps that’s why I have been wiped out each time I’ve played on the eastern side of the map! Ogadai had the 'strange' vice so this seemed a good hook to hang the story on. The Turkish invasion of Lesser Khazar provided another good reason to move an army east. I would have to fight province by province and lose many before stemming the tide. However, the Horde was much less this time than before and only appeared in Khazar - which helped the Turks more than anyone else.
I was going to leave the Byzantines in a razed Trebizond but the emperor went and got killed without issue – I have never managed to capture a king with the Cumans, they either run away early or get drilled by a javelin. So the re-emergence was inevitable - it was sheer luck it happened on isolated Crete where they can never afford to build a port and ships. Why is it that the AI never seems to think of disbanding a big and unaffordable army to gain some income, however small?
Temudur Khan was an even greater warrior than his elder brother. He had led the army to many great victories and was renowned as a skilled attacker. Even more skilled in matters of finance, the kingdom prospered immediately and envoys (whose silver-tongues must be treated with care) reported that the Cumans were now known as the richest nation among the civilised tribes. Quite a march from the poverty stricken days of the steppe!
This golden time was not to last however, for Temudur, made prematurely old by years of campaign bivouacs and warrior’s rations died after only three years’ rule. His brother Khogibag took the crown – an incredibly brave man, but not bright and only a competent commander. In 1211, he initiated a war with the recalcitrant Polish, who had never agreed a ceasefire from the early days of his grandfather. Gathering several armies, he invaded Lesser Poland and Volhynia, which the Poles abandoned without a fight. That is, until the following year when they invaded Volhynia with an enormous army of 3000. Lord as Salih fought a close battle with the army of Poles, coming close to defeat as the Polish retainers ravaged his troops on the flank. But the cavalry could not stand the combined damage of the arrows and javelins that rained upon them, and finally broke when their king died.
Meanwhile, Khogibag seized an opportunity when the remnants of the Byzantine empire lost most of their army repulsing a Turkish attack on Nicaea. He charged in from Greece and took the rich province. The Byzantine Emperor immediately counter-attacked with everything he had save some troops in Bulgaria. On the hills of Nicaea they died in their multitudes, even the famous kataphrakts. The Emperor died with them, a brave but foolish man who had betrayed an alliance with the wrong people. He had no heirs and Byzantium became a memory – albeit one that would return to haunt those of a nervous disposition.
The Poles, however, though crushed and left with only Silesia and Greater Poland, proudly refused a truce. They sneered at the Cuman envoys and dared Khogibag to come to them. This display of defiance in the face of oblivion impressed the bluff old soldier and he pulled his armies back from the border. The Poles could fume and feel aggrieved all they wanted. His empire was big enough.
An emissary of France, now an emerging power, came to court to seek an alliance against the Holy Roman Emperor, but after much discussion no advantage could be seen in this as the Germans shared a border, whereas the French, as yet, did not. The Turks however, re-established their old alliance and it seemed as if peace would return to the kingdom.
Khogibag Khan died in 1216, succeeded by Ogadai, grandson of Chagatai the Great. As his grandsire had done, he married the same year, but to a strange foreign princess from Scotland, Brunilde. The new khan was hoped to be even more illustrious than his forebears, but he was a strange and bizarre man and generals worried at his moods. His first act however was to watch the Germans collapse into civil war and take advantage by reversing the decision of his uncle and ally with the French. He then had a son in celebration.
Messengers reported in 1220 that a little known member of the Imperial Byzantine family had survived in Crete. Investigation showed that the army of loyalists he had raised was now trapped on the island with no way off. Ogadai began building ships to protect his coastline and keep it that way.
After years of sending bishops to convert the pagan Cumans in Croatia and Austria, most of whom the khans favoured with martyrdom, the Pope suddenly decided that direct action was better for his place in history. A large army charged out of Venice and into Croatia. For reasons best known to himself, he had brought mainly siege engines and bowmen, which on the steep hills of the Balkans died in fearsome quantities. Lord Amdai Morut followed the fleeing remnants into Venice and took its riches for the khan. This was a province to keep!
Ogadai Khan was making himself deeply distrusted with his vivid accounts of dreams – dreams that always involved clouds of black flies. In 1224, scouts reported events far to the east that turned these dreams into portents – a vast Mongol Horde was on the move from China. Ogadai was sanguine – these steppe brothers were no threat to him this far west. He was more saddened by the sudden death from age of the famous and much loved outlander, Salih as Salih.
Clearly unable to learn from the Pope’s experiences, the King of Bohemia – who had spent many years offering his daughters for gain – decided to invade Austria. Once again, mountains and Cuman warriors taught him a lesson, but the real damage was that the People of Novgorod and the Turks took the opportunity to cancel their long standing alliances. Ogadai anticipated the invasion of his still lightly defended eastern provinces, but still took the time to smash Jan II of Bohemia’s army and take his home province away.
Novgorod did not stir – perhaps their eyes looked further east. The treacherous Turk however, immediately sank a Cuman ship in the Black Sea. Then they invaded Lesser Khazar, Constantinople by sea and Nicaea. Khazar could not be defended, but a heavy defeat was inflicted on the Turks in Nicaea – whereas they fled from Constantinople as soon as they came. Then the world turned and a terrifying rumbling was heard from the east. In 1230, a massive army of the Golden Horde appeared in Khazar, butchering the Turkish garrison.
Campaign Notes: The standard army worked well in all these battles, even outnumbered heavily. Because most were defensive, enemy armies had a real problem with the height of these homelands – almost a natural fortress in each province. I don’t understand why the Bohemians made such a rash move – there were plenty of rebel provinces from the collapse of the HRE on their border and they chose to attack their dominant neighbour. The Pope is an idiot – he had no chance with an army of trebuchets!
Salih as Salih provided an interesting twist. He was a four star general with an army of Muslim units - Saharan cavalry, javelin infantry and camels which made me think very hard about their battle tactics alongside my own familiar troops. Sadly, the camels were so unfamiliar in the grasslands of the Balkans they got killed more quickly than I would have liked - and were unable to be trained back to strength.
Whilst I as a player know the Golden Horde appear in 1230, I make a point of not preparing until two or three years before (ie as if I had no inkling). Since Europe was caught unawares, for me personally it seems unfair to over-prepare. Perhaps that’s why I have been wiped out each time I’ve played on the eastern side of the map! Ogadai had the 'strange' vice so this seemed a good hook to hang the story on. The Turkish invasion of Lesser Khazar provided another good reason to move an army east. I would have to fight province by province and lose many before stemming the tide. However, the Horde was much less this time than before and only appeared in Khazar - which helped the Turks more than anyone else.
I was going to leave the Byzantines in a razed Trebizond but the emperor went and got killed without issue – I have never managed to capture a king with the Cumans, they either run away early or get drilled by a javelin. So the re-emergence was inevitable - it was sheer luck it happened on isolated Crete where they can never afford to build a port and ships. Why is it that the AI never seems to think of disbanding a big and unaffordable army to gain some income, however small?
Originally Posted by Haruchai:
Why is it that the AI never seems to think of disbanding a big and unaffordable army to gain some income, however small?
As far as I know the A.I. never disbands troops. It is simply not programmed to do that. The A.I. is terrible at money-making anyway.Why is it that the AI never seems to think of disbanding a big and unaffordable army to gain some income, however small?
Haruchai, I think you might have missed your calling as a storyteller! I have to admit that last entry had me almost completely spellbound the entire time I was reading it. Well done!
I salute you, Haruchai.
Best storytelling I've ever read on this forum.
Best storytelling I've ever read on this forum.
Hey nice story. I'm looking foward to the next episode.
The Grand Alliance
The Golden Horde army was fearsome indeed, countless multitudes of horsemen poised on Lesser Khazar’s border. Only that province, now governed by the Turk stood between that army and the eastern lands of the Cuman kingdom in Levidia and Crimea. Lord Balghichi, one of Ogadai’s finest generals marched his army into the province of Levidia and prepared to meet whatever doom the sky gods had decreed. The Horde would need to cross the Volga to reach his position and he hoped that this might at least delay their onslaught, for his numbers were too puny to stand for long. Even brave men could only fight for so long and no man could stop a sea tide.
But his khan had a plan, untold to aught but a few in case false hope unmanned his armies. Tobdun Menashe was in Khazar and riding fearlessly toward the Mongol Khan’s tents. He knew the tales of how unwelcome emissaries were boiled alive as entertainment and to teach. He knew the Mongol doctrine that the only options were surrender or annihilation. Yet he rode through the curious horsemen into the camp of the khan and in three long days of subtle persuasion, forged an alliance with the Horde. The two Khans Ogadai (for in truth this coincidence was not only remarked, but seen as an powerful omen of kinship) sealed their pact with much drinking of kumis and ribald sports. As Tobdun watched his khan’s escort ride back west, and the numberless Horde strike camp and march towards the north and the hapless people of Novgorod, it was more than an excess of kumis that made his heart warm.
The next decades were a fearsome trial for the powerful Novgorod, as many of their rich provinces were plundered. Yet they fought very bravely and soon a settled border of mute hostility prevailed between their forces and the Horde. Despite Ogadai’s urging, his namesake declined to attack the Turks further, removing Lesser Khazar and Georgia from their grasp, but keeping that province as his southern border. The Turks were now entirely the Cuman khan’s problem.
At first, it seemed as if the Turkish Sultan had an abundance of problems other than his neighbour. In 1233, in addition to the as yet unresolved threat of the Horde to his north, an enormous crusade from France was making its way through Constantinople towards Tripoli. Ogadai did not hesitate in letting the Christians pass unhindered. As it entered Turkish lands, it provoked civil war. Ogadai had no intention of extending his border beyond Nicaea, but the opportunity was too good to miss and he sent emissaries into Trebizond with caskets of gems and gold recently liberated from Venice. The holy reliquaries of the foolish pope were particularly rich, and Ogadai relished the irony of sending them to his Muslim enemies as bribes. He was considering how best to let the Pope know about this when news reached him that the wily Sultan had swiftly restored order to his kingdom and the commander of Trebizond had refused his ‘invitation’.
In 1238, the new king of the Bohemians showed that hot-headedness was a disturbing family trait when he invaded the province of Bohemia with the remnants of his father’s army. The few who limped back home cursed his name for an eternal fool. Their widows, wives and mothers rose up in anger and his small kingdom was riven in civil war.
The Turks bided their time, but in 1244 a small fleet was spotted sailing up the Bosphorus. Ogadai was not a man to be caught flat-footed twice, and his powerful fleet of baggalas sank the feeble dhows of the Turk – and consequently re-opened hostilities between the two powers of the east. The opening act was hardly needed however, for the Sultan was already on the borders of Nicaea and invaded with a substantial army of over 3,000 men. The Turcoman horse and infantry proved quite a challenge, as did his heavily armoured Saracens, but the wise choice of ground and the newly and highly armoured Cuman infantry units (warriors and bashkorts) tore them to shreds when they closed. The bravery and stubbornness of the Turkish troops were not helped by the cowardice of their general, who fled at the first sign of his enemy – a practice he repeated on each of the subsequent invasions he made until he was supplanted by the Sultan himself. Lord Baghatur showed entirely the opposite resolve and stood with his men in the press, gaining both valour and rank from the battle. In 1246, an even bigger army returned, with exactly the same results save for many more Turkish dead – for Baghatur had learned to deal with the Turcomans more effectively, and had fresher reinforcements to pursue the rout.
Two crushing victories should have been cause for much celebration, but hearts were heavy and sad – for Ogadai Khan, a strange man of vision (or madness – either way, touched by the gods) shunned in his youth but dearly loved in his maturity, passed from the leaden earth to the endless sunlit steppe of the heavens. His son, Möngke, was little liked – a man, if man was the right term, of soft backbone and a will as feeble as a summer breeze. He was unable to command his own concubines let alone an army. For the first time since Batu I united the tribes, mutterings of rebellion were heard, and not quietly.
Campaign Notes: When I annexed Bulgaria I inherited an armourer’s workshop (guild?) that could produce silver armoured Cuman warriors and bashkorts. These proved invaluable against the Turkish armies. Black armoured Saracen Infantry proved a tough opponent which took a long time to wear down, giving their cavalry more time to be a nuisance. I also started to need more reinforcements for the CW archers as they ran out of ammunition before the tide had turned in my favour. Again, careful use of the high ground conferred battle winning advantage. Steppe Heavy Cavalry at bronze armour level were less and less useful as shock troops, but their armour piercing arrows still took a heavy toll. I am about to start building towards Khwarazamian Heavy Cavalry as the only advance unit I can have from now on – though I can use Woodsmen from Volhynia and it looks like I might be able to build Bulgarian Brigands as the information for them comes up on the archer’s guild description. (Remember, this is XL which severely limits the range of troops you can build even if you own a particular province.)
The Mongol alliance was a coup – they had always ignored my entreaties before crushing me. A big threat on my northern border from Novgorod has now been neutered. However, I have not taken advantage of their plight to seize Kiev as they forbore to invade my eastern provinces when they had the chance in my weakness. It would be dishonourable to stab them down now.
With an increasing number of coasts to defend, I now have three ship producing provinces at baggala level. The fleets in the Adriatic and Black Sea are now powerful enough to protect my sea coasts from the piracy of the Papacy and the Turk. The core provinces of Hungary, Carpathia and Serbia and being upgraded to citadels – Venice and Bulgaria were already at that level courtesy of my foes.
Möngke was, after quite a run of good khans, a real disappointment, but so are his brothers. Civil war is a real possibility as loyalty has dropped through the floor. My usual practice is to review all governorships at the accession of a new khan – unless someone develops a real vice. This reflects the ‘new broom’ approach which kings often took. There’s a lot of sweeping coming up, I think!
Oh, in case it’s obscure, kumis is fermented horse’s milk, widely drunk by Turkic peoples of the steppe. It’s an acquired taste but jolly good for frozen winters.
The Golden Horde army was fearsome indeed, countless multitudes of horsemen poised on Lesser Khazar’s border. Only that province, now governed by the Turk stood between that army and the eastern lands of the Cuman kingdom in Levidia and Crimea. Lord Balghichi, one of Ogadai’s finest generals marched his army into the province of Levidia and prepared to meet whatever doom the sky gods had decreed. The Horde would need to cross the Volga to reach his position and he hoped that this might at least delay their onslaught, for his numbers were too puny to stand for long. Even brave men could only fight for so long and no man could stop a sea tide.
But his khan had a plan, untold to aught but a few in case false hope unmanned his armies. Tobdun Menashe was in Khazar and riding fearlessly toward the Mongol Khan’s tents. He knew the tales of how unwelcome emissaries were boiled alive as entertainment and to teach. He knew the Mongol doctrine that the only options were surrender or annihilation. Yet he rode through the curious horsemen into the camp of the khan and in three long days of subtle persuasion, forged an alliance with the Horde. The two Khans Ogadai (for in truth this coincidence was not only remarked, but seen as an powerful omen of kinship) sealed their pact with much drinking of kumis and ribald sports. As Tobdun watched his khan’s escort ride back west, and the numberless Horde strike camp and march towards the north and the hapless people of Novgorod, it was more than an excess of kumis that made his heart warm.
The next decades were a fearsome trial for the powerful Novgorod, as many of their rich provinces were plundered. Yet they fought very bravely and soon a settled border of mute hostility prevailed between their forces and the Horde. Despite Ogadai’s urging, his namesake declined to attack the Turks further, removing Lesser Khazar and Georgia from their grasp, but keeping that province as his southern border. The Turks were now entirely the Cuman khan’s problem.
At first, it seemed as if the Turkish Sultan had an abundance of problems other than his neighbour. In 1233, in addition to the as yet unresolved threat of the Horde to his north, an enormous crusade from France was making its way through Constantinople towards Tripoli. Ogadai did not hesitate in letting the Christians pass unhindered. As it entered Turkish lands, it provoked civil war. Ogadai had no intention of extending his border beyond Nicaea, but the opportunity was too good to miss and he sent emissaries into Trebizond with caskets of gems and gold recently liberated from Venice. The holy reliquaries of the foolish pope were particularly rich, and Ogadai relished the irony of sending them to his Muslim enemies as bribes. He was considering how best to let the Pope know about this when news reached him that the wily Sultan had swiftly restored order to his kingdom and the commander of Trebizond had refused his ‘invitation’.
In 1238, the new king of the Bohemians showed that hot-headedness was a disturbing family trait when he invaded the province of Bohemia with the remnants of his father’s army. The few who limped back home cursed his name for an eternal fool. Their widows, wives and mothers rose up in anger and his small kingdom was riven in civil war.
The Turks bided their time, but in 1244 a small fleet was spotted sailing up the Bosphorus. Ogadai was not a man to be caught flat-footed twice, and his powerful fleet of baggalas sank the feeble dhows of the Turk – and consequently re-opened hostilities between the two powers of the east. The opening act was hardly needed however, for the Sultan was already on the borders of Nicaea and invaded with a substantial army of over 3,000 men. The Turcoman horse and infantry proved quite a challenge, as did his heavily armoured Saracens, but the wise choice of ground and the newly and highly armoured Cuman infantry units (warriors and bashkorts) tore them to shreds when they closed. The bravery and stubbornness of the Turkish troops were not helped by the cowardice of their general, who fled at the first sign of his enemy – a practice he repeated on each of the subsequent invasions he made until he was supplanted by the Sultan himself. Lord Baghatur showed entirely the opposite resolve and stood with his men in the press, gaining both valour and rank from the battle. In 1246, an even bigger army returned, with exactly the same results save for many more Turkish dead – for Baghatur had learned to deal with the Turcomans more effectively, and had fresher reinforcements to pursue the rout.
Two crushing victories should have been cause for much celebration, but hearts were heavy and sad – for Ogadai Khan, a strange man of vision (or madness – either way, touched by the gods) shunned in his youth but dearly loved in his maturity, passed from the leaden earth to the endless sunlit steppe of the heavens. His son, Möngke, was little liked – a man, if man was the right term, of soft backbone and a will as feeble as a summer breeze. He was unable to command his own concubines let alone an army. For the first time since Batu I united the tribes, mutterings of rebellion were heard, and not quietly.
Campaign Notes: When I annexed Bulgaria I inherited an armourer’s workshop (guild?) that could produce silver armoured Cuman warriors and bashkorts. These proved invaluable against the Turkish armies. Black armoured Saracen Infantry proved a tough opponent which took a long time to wear down, giving their cavalry more time to be a nuisance. I also started to need more reinforcements for the CW archers as they ran out of ammunition before the tide had turned in my favour. Again, careful use of the high ground conferred battle winning advantage. Steppe Heavy Cavalry at bronze armour level were less and less useful as shock troops, but their armour piercing arrows still took a heavy toll. I am about to start building towards Khwarazamian Heavy Cavalry as the only advance unit I can have from now on – though I can use Woodsmen from Volhynia and it looks like I might be able to build Bulgarian Brigands as the information for them comes up on the archer’s guild description. (Remember, this is XL which severely limits the range of troops you can build even if you own a particular province.)
The Mongol alliance was a coup – they had always ignored my entreaties before crushing me. A big threat on my northern border from Novgorod has now been neutered. However, I have not taken advantage of their plight to seize Kiev as they forbore to invade my eastern provinces when they had the chance in my weakness. It would be dishonourable to stab them down now.
With an increasing number of coasts to defend, I now have three ship producing provinces at baggala level. The fleets in the Adriatic and Black Sea are now powerful enough to protect my sea coasts from the piracy of the Papacy and the Turk. The core provinces of Hungary, Carpathia and Serbia and being upgraded to citadels – Venice and Bulgaria were already at that level courtesy of my foes.
Möngke was, after quite a run of good khans, a real disappointment, but so are his brothers. Civil war is a real possibility as loyalty has dropped through the floor. My usual practice is to review all governorships at the accession of a new khan – unless someone develops a real vice. This reflects the ‘new broom’ approach which kings often took. There’s a lot of sweeping coming up, I think!
Oh, in case it’s obscure, kumis is fermented horse’s milk, widely drunk by Turkic peoples of the steppe. It’s an acquired taste but jolly good for frozen winters.
Tip of the hat mate, nice read. Never played the Cumans myself. Might give it a go after reading your piece and finishing my current campaign. Your "campaign notes" are great as well.
Originally Posted by Odin:
Tip of the hat mate, nice read. Never played the Cumans myself. Might give it a go after reading your piece and finishing my current campaign. Your "campaign notes" are great as well.
Tip of the hat mate, nice read. Never played the Cumans myself. Might give it a go after reading your piece and finishing my current campaign. Your "campaign notes" are great as well.
I concur. The campaign notes are definitely a nice touch. Now I just hope his empire doesn't fall apart under Mongke's reign....
A very good read. Entertaining, well-organized, clear and concise, and even historically informative. Thanks, Haruchai. I'm impressed by the idea to abandon the vulnerable beginning provinces and supplant Hungary, especially for the sake of their iron.
Ajax
Ajax
Awsome story telling Haruchai!
WE WANT MORE!! WE WANT MORE!!
Thank you all for your kind comments!
The Years of Terror
Möngke Khan’s feeble character had one saving grace – he listened. Immediately he began to construct buildings, both religious and those less elevated but nonetheless uplifting to the spirit of other men such as brothels and taverns. In addition, his ignoble sense of insecurity brought him to create a network of spies and informers that spread throughout the land like a fungus in ripe cheese. When he felt the time was right, a couple of famous generals were tried for treason – Lord Nisi who had grown fat and hated in Constantinople and his own nephew and heir Khogibag. The executions that followed were of the most ‘educational’ and public nature which could be devised in a pagan land. Within a decade, the kingdom dared dissemble no more and a simple knock on a wooden door was cause for hearts to freeze.
Now emboldened, the khan extended his methods to foreign policy. In 1255, the Poles, who had seethed for years on the Cuman northern border were invaded. Their army crushed, Möngke razed Silesia to the ground, burning farms and villages, knocking down any wall higher than his knee and taking the entire harvest away to his capital. Winter came and treated the impoverished Poles with as much cruelty as their conqueror. And when the snows lifted from the iron furrows of the stripped fields, only a crop of corpses was forthcoming for spring. His work done, Möngke rode on to Franconia and the Bohemians. Once again, the awful harvest was bountiful.
Greater Poland was next, and the remnants of the Polish army fled back into ruined Silesia, where upon hearing the news that detailed the fate of his capital and homeland, the Polish king died of shock. It is not recorded if Möngke noticed his foe’s demise or his anguish.
In the east, perhaps motivated by the now widespread stories of atrocity, the Turkish Sultan sent his finest general, Amir al-Mansur and a huge army to challenge Lord Baghatur in Nicaea once more. These were hardened troops, well-equipped and high in valour on both sides. The Cumans knew their ground but this was no lily-livered coward they faced now. Al-Mansur struck unexpectedly and quickly and the Cuman army found itself with much less favourable ground to defend. Yet not for naught was Lord Baghatur becoming his khan’s finest general, and he chose to deploy along a wooded ridge to the west of the battlefield. The ridge was not high, but like a defensible rampart and the trees at his back gave some comfort from the enemy cavalry that ranged the field. The heavily armoured Saracen infantry marched unrelentingly into the usual storm of arrows, but Baghatur’s reinforcements had a long way to come to reach the ridge, and the Turkish cavalry was an ever-present gauntlet to run in the rear as they reeled in the danse macabre with the Cuman steppe heavy cavalry. Soon there were no more arrows and the fight was hand-to-hand.
The Turkish Ghulam cavalry made several flanking charges to unsettle the tree-bound bashkorts, but the line held. The Cuman Warriors charged down the ridge, swords in hand, into the ranks of the Saracens, but the line held. Death gloated over the press, but the lines held.
The Ghulams withdrew, preparing for another charge into the beleaguered bashkorts. Every man on the field had an arm like lead, feet like mill-stones and gasping breath raw as winter’s kiss. Each man tried to find the last ounce of courage and strength for his final moments, to touch the cheek of victory with a tired finger and try to bring it to his thumping heart. At this moment, Baghatur chose to throw his dice and charged at the head of his heavy cavalry in a looping sweep that caught the reforming Ghulams flat footed. As the cavalry fled before him, he bellowed orders to ignore the fleeing nobles and turn, turn, turn into the unprotected backs of the Saracen line. The footmen were brave hearts, stout and fearsome warriors, but they had no strength left. As they were trampled beneath Baghatur’s hooves, they turned and fled for home.
The Cuman Steppe Cavalry poured onto the field and ran amok, taking over a thousand prisoners including the Amir himself. Unlike his Khan however, and to that wicked man’s eternal displeasure, the great general did not butcher his foes but treated them as vanquished heroes should be treated, and when the Sultan sent the riches of his treasury in ransom, bade the Amir a gracious farewell. Though the Turk came again to Nicaea, never did Amir al-Mansur break his word of parole and lead an army against Baghatur again. The noble lord received his sixth rank as his victory spoils.
In one of the few peaceable years of Möngke’s reign, 1262, a crusader army arrived in Venice from an newly emerging power of the west, Spain. The khan, like his predecessors, had no interest in the religious wars of his rivals, and let the crusade go on to its destination of Tripoli. He was astonished to find that the ungrateful Spanish barbarians promptly ransacked Venice, stealing over 5,000 florins – an act that they repeated in Serbia. Unable to challenge the crusade, Möngke Khan watched it fade from his borders and slowly starve in Tripoli with a determination that any similar expedition would die at his hands. His emissaries however, urged caution. Spain was in complete control of Iberia now and had just crushed the powerful French and invaded Tuscany. They were a power to be wary of.
1275 saw the Turks return to Nicaea with an even bigger army under the personal command of the Sultan. He did not choose his ground as well as his amir, and the Cuman army crushed him easily. He did not help his men when he ran from the first hail of javelins.
Möngke went back to punishing raids. The rebels of Tyrol, who had dared to send assassins against him were razed back into the Dark Ages. The last of the intractable foes who had challenged the Cumans and never made peace, the hated Pope, was next. Prince Ogadai invaded the Papal States from Venice and delivered martyrdom and penury to the populace in full measure. No building was left higher or more sophisticated than a molehill. He rode on to Naples with the same result. Finally, Prince Ogadai stood before Rome. The garrison had fled with the cowardly pope. The Cuman horde entered, and Rome suffered as Constantinople had decades before. Her people were put to the sword, her treasures looted. The ruins of her past glory were soon indistinguishable from the ruins of her present misfortune. And still the horde rode on, until the last stronghold of the Papacy was ploughed under in Milan. Finally, it was done and the silence of the grave descended upon central Europe.
At the moment Ogadai’s army rode back into Cuman territory in Venice in the spring of 1278, Möngke the Terrible breathed his last venomous breath. Ogadai, famous general and merciless overlord, came home as khan.
Campaign Notes:The spies worked very well in settling provinces down. The border fort and agents in Venice showed that my enemies had been diligent in sending their own provocateurs through, as there would be as many as four or five enemy agents caught every year.
I was completely thrown by the Spanish crusade pillaging so much money. I have always let them through before with no problem. I don’t know what triggers the pillage event but I will have to fight the next one that comes through – more than 10,000 florins in a couple of turns is a bit hard!
I am now able to build Khwarazmian Heavy Cavalry in Carpathia. I don’t know from the unit description whether these are much better than Cuman Heavy Cavalry – they cost a lot less at around 550 florins to 708, which is concerning as to their quality. I’ll send a couple of units to the Turkish front as they are massing again.
I decided that I don’t want any more territory (my borders are reasonable now and any new province apart from those of my allies the Golden Horde, or my long-term peaceable neighbours of Novgorod add more borders to be defended) and that neutralising my enemies – who simply refuse ceasefires even though they are booked on the luxury sleeper of the Oblivion Express – through removing their ability to fight and develop was the best strategy. It helps to develop my generals and keeps them from getting treasonous. Good for the treasury too!
The Years of Terror
Möngke Khan’s feeble character had one saving grace – he listened. Immediately he began to construct buildings, both religious and those less elevated but nonetheless uplifting to the spirit of other men such as brothels and taverns. In addition, his ignoble sense of insecurity brought him to create a network of spies and informers that spread throughout the land like a fungus in ripe cheese. When he felt the time was right, a couple of famous generals were tried for treason – Lord Nisi who had grown fat and hated in Constantinople and his own nephew and heir Khogibag. The executions that followed were of the most ‘educational’ and public nature which could be devised in a pagan land. Within a decade, the kingdom dared dissemble no more and a simple knock on a wooden door was cause for hearts to freeze.
Now emboldened, the khan extended his methods to foreign policy. In 1255, the Poles, who had seethed for years on the Cuman northern border were invaded. Their army crushed, Möngke razed Silesia to the ground, burning farms and villages, knocking down any wall higher than his knee and taking the entire harvest away to his capital. Winter came and treated the impoverished Poles with as much cruelty as their conqueror. And when the snows lifted from the iron furrows of the stripped fields, only a crop of corpses was forthcoming for spring. His work done, Möngke rode on to Franconia and the Bohemians. Once again, the awful harvest was bountiful.
Greater Poland was next, and the remnants of the Polish army fled back into ruined Silesia, where upon hearing the news that detailed the fate of his capital and homeland, the Polish king died of shock. It is not recorded if Möngke noticed his foe’s demise or his anguish.
In the east, perhaps motivated by the now widespread stories of atrocity, the Turkish Sultan sent his finest general, Amir al-Mansur and a huge army to challenge Lord Baghatur in Nicaea once more. These were hardened troops, well-equipped and high in valour on both sides. The Cumans knew their ground but this was no lily-livered coward they faced now. Al-Mansur struck unexpectedly and quickly and the Cuman army found itself with much less favourable ground to defend. Yet not for naught was Lord Baghatur becoming his khan’s finest general, and he chose to deploy along a wooded ridge to the west of the battlefield. The ridge was not high, but like a defensible rampart and the trees at his back gave some comfort from the enemy cavalry that ranged the field. The heavily armoured Saracen infantry marched unrelentingly into the usual storm of arrows, but Baghatur’s reinforcements had a long way to come to reach the ridge, and the Turkish cavalry was an ever-present gauntlet to run in the rear as they reeled in the danse macabre with the Cuman steppe heavy cavalry. Soon there were no more arrows and the fight was hand-to-hand.
The Turkish Ghulam cavalry made several flanking charges to unsettle the tree-bound bashkorts, but the line held. The Cuman Warriors charged down the ridge, swords in hand, into the ranks of the Saracens, but the line held. Death gloated over the press, but the lines held.
The Ghulams withdrew, preparing for another charge into the beleaguered bashkorts. Every man on the field had an arm like lead, feet like mill-stones and gasping breath raw as winter’s kiss. Each man tried to find the last ounce of courage and strength for his final moments, to touch the cheek of victory with a tired finger and try to bring it to his thumping heart. At this moment, Baghatur chose to throw his dice and charged at the head of his heavy cavalry in a looping sweep that caught the reforming Ghulams flat footed. As the cavalry fled before him, he bellowed orders to ignore the fleeing nobles and turn, turn, turn into the unprotected backs of the Saracen line. The footmen were brave hearts, stout and fearsome warriors, but they had no strength left. As they were trampled beneath Baghatur’s hooves, they turned and fled for home.
The Cuman Steppe Cavalry poured onto the field and ran amok, taking over a thousand prisoners including the Amir himself. Unlike his Khan however, and to that wicked man’s eternal displeasure, the great general did not butcher his foes but treated them as vanquished heroes should be treated, and when the Sultan sent the riches of his treasury in ransom, bade the Amir a gracious farewell. Though the Turk came again to Nicaea, never did Amir al-Mansur break his word of parole and lead an army against Baghatur again. The noble lord received his sixth rank as his victory spoils.
In one of the few peaceable years of Möngke’s reign, 1262, a crusader army arrived in Venice from an newly emerging power of the west, Spain. The khan, like his predecessors, had no interest in the religious wars of his rivals, and let the crusade go on to its destination of Tripoli. He was astonished to find that the ungrateful Spanish barbarians promptly ransacked Venice, stealing over 5,000 florins – an act that they repeated in Serbia. Unable to challenge the crusade, Möngke Khan watched it fade from his borders and slowly starve in Tripoli with a determination that any similar expedition would die at his hands. His emissaries however, urged caution. Spain was in complete control of Iberia now and had just crushed the powerful French and invaded Tuscany. They were a power to be wary of.
1275 saw the Turks return to Nicaea with an even bigger army under the personal command of the Sultan. He did not choose his ground as well as his amir, and the Cuman army crushed him easily. He did not help his men when he ran from the first hail of javelins.
Möngke went back to punishing raids. The rebels of Tyrol, who had dared to send assassins against him were razed back into the Dark Ages. The last of the intractable foes who had challenged the Cumans and never made peace, the hated Pope, was next. Prince Ogadai invaded the Papal States from Venice and delivered martyrdom and penury to the populace in full measure. No building was left higher or more sophisticated than a molehill. He rode on to Naples with the same result. Finally, Prince Ogadai stood before Rome. The garrison had fled with the cowardly pope. The Cuman horde entered, and Rome suffered as Constantinople had decades before. Her people were put to the sword, her treasures looted. The ruins of her past glory were soon indistinguishable from the ruins of her present misfortune. And still the horde rode on, until the last stronghold of the Papacy was ploughed under in Milan. Finally, it was done and the silence of the grave descended upon central Europe.
At the moment Ogadai’s army rode back into Cuman territory in Venice in the spring of 1278, Möngke the Terrible breathed his last venomous breath. Ogadai, famous general and merciless overlord, came home as khan.
Campaign Notes:The spies worked very well in settling provinces down. The border fort and agents in Venice showed that my enemies had been diligent in sending their own provocateurs through, as there would be as many as four or five enemy agents caught every year.
I was completely thrown by the Spanish crusade pillaging so much money. I have always let them through before with no problem. I don’t know what triggers the pillage event but I will have to fight the next one that comes through – more than 10,000 florins in a couple of turns is a bit hard!
I am now able to build Khwarazmian Heavy Cavalry in Carpathia. I don’t know from the unit description whether these are much better than Cuman Heavy Cavalry – they cost a lot less at around 550 florins to 708, which is concerning as to their quality. I’ll send a couple of units to the Turkish front as they are massing again.
I decided that I don’t want any more territory (my borders are reasonable now and any new province apart from those of my allies the Golden Horde, or my long-term peaceable neighbours of Novgorod add more borders to be defended) and that neutralising my enemies – who simply refuse ceasefires even though they are booked on the luxury sleeper of the Oblivion Express – through removing their ability to fight and develop was the best strategy. It helps to develop my generals and keeps them from getting treasonous. Good for the treasury too!
Well it looks like Mongke turned out not to be so bad. All in all, sounds like you made the best of a mediocre faction leader. I also enjoyed your account of the First Battle of Nicea. Well done! 
LOL!! Yeah, gotta love those smash-and-grab campaigns....
Originally Posted by Haruchai:
[I]....and that neutralising my enemies – who simply refuse ceasefires even though they are booked on the luxury sleeper of the Oblivion Express....
[I]....and that neutralising my enemies – who simply refuse ceasefires even though they are booked on the luxury sleeper of the Oblivion Express....
LOL!! Yeah, gotta love those smash-and-grab campaigns....
The Khwarazmian description looks good, but I've always been rather disappointed by their performance. Any faction I play that can build them, I tend to find other cav units I prefer. You should probably use them alongside Cuman heavies in a battle or two to see how they compare on the field. I'd also look carefully at the upkeep costs for both of them, as I usually find that more important economically than the initial cost to train.
Ajax
Ajax
Cuman Heavies: 8/4/5/7/8 Initial Cost: 425 Support Cost Integer: 12
Khwarazmians: 8/3/5/7/7 Initial Cost: 375 Support Cost Integer: 14
Figures from MTW_XL_HIGH_UNIT_PROD11.TXT using Gnome editor.
Barring other major considerations, I'd stick with building Cuman Heavies rather than invest in Khwarazmians. The initial cost bite is more than offset in a few years by the lower support costs, and their slightly better stats.
Khwarazmians: 8/3/5/7/7 Initial Cost: 375 Support Cost Integer: 14
Figures from MTW_XL_HIGH_UNIT_PROD11.TXT using Gnome editor.
Barring other major considerations, I'd stick with building Cuman Heavies rather than invest in Khwarazmians. The initial cost bite is more than offset in a few years by the lower support costs, and their slightly better stats.
Thank you geezer and ajax for your thoughts.
The numbers bear out my experience - Cuman Heavy Cavalry seems to be more reliable and certainly the support costs are less. Of course, I am a lot more used to fighting with CHC, but whatever, I shall stick with them.
I think things are going to get a lot tougher as we move into the Late period. Just had my first nasty defeat of a 'standard' army on the defensive, and it is clear even armoured bashkorts cannot stand up to some of the armoured catholic chivalric units. The hybrid nature of bashkorts and Cuman warriors may be the undoing of my kingdom as the 14th century unfolds...
The numbers bear out my experience - Cuman Heavy Cavalry seems to be more reliable and certainly the support costs are less. Of course, I am a lot more used to fighting with CHC, but whatever, I shall stick with them.
I think things are going to get a lot tougher as we move into the Late period. Just had my first nasty defeat of a 'standard' army on the defensive, and it is clear even armoured bashkorts cannot stand up to some of the armoured catholic chivalric units. The hybrid nature of bashkorts and Cuman warriors may be the undoing of my kingdom as the 14th century unfolds...
Catholic Chivalric units are pretty unbeatable in a pure slugfest (unless you've got Janissary Heavy Infantry on your side). Your best advantages over them as an eastern faction are mobility-related. That armor takes its toll when they have to march all around a field chasing your fast, light troops, and ranged units can pick them off at a distance till you can nail them at a place of your choosing from multiple sides. Just don't lose that healthy respect for their combat ability.
Here's a few stats that might help:
Exhaustion
-2 atk when quite tired
-3 atk, -1 def very tired
-4 atk, -2 def exhausted
-6 atk, -3 def totally exhausted
Flanking
+5 atk for flank attack
+7 atk for rear attack
+2 atk for charging into flank/rear
Hills
Bonus to atk for being uphill (amount depends on height difference)
Penalty to atk for being downhill (amount depends on height difference)
I'm sure you already know about these advantages, but the numbers might clarify just how valuable they can be.
It takes careful management, but you can outweigh their inherent advantages.
Ajax
ed. to add stats
Here's a few stats that might help:
Exhaustion
-2 atk when quite tired
-3 atk, -1 def very tired
-4 atk, -2 def exhausted
-6 atk, -3 def totally exhausted
Flanking
+5 atk for flank attack
+7 atk for rear attack
+2 atk for charging into flank/rear
Hills
Bonus to atk for being uphill (amount depends on height difference)
Penalty to atk for being downhill (amount depends on height difference)
I'm sure you already know about these advantages, but the numbers might clarify just how valuable they can be.
It takes careful management, but you can outweigh their inherent advantages.
Ajax
ed. to add stats
Thank you ajax, very useful information. I knew about the advantages in principle, but not the exact numbers.
Indeed, the defeat was largely because I got caught flat footed by an all-out charge from across the field. The Spanish ignored my horse archers and just kept coming. I was defending too deep, you see, and the enemy general spotted it. The battleground was very flat too, not my lovely Balkan mountains!
A couple of years later, I managed to crush a big catholic army with just the tactics you describe.
I am going to do some tweaking and see if I can't improve my order of battle for the western front.
Indeed, the defeat was largely because I got caught flat footed by an all-out charge from across the field. The Spanish ignored my horse archers and just kept coming. I was defending too deep, you see, and the enemy general spotted it. The battleground was very flat too, not my lovely Balkan mountains!
A couple of years later, I managed to crush a big catholic army with just the tactics you describe.
I am going to do some tweaking and see if I can't improve my order of battle for the western front.
Sidenote: Best anti-cav unit are camels...
set up a custom battle with 2 units of (melee)camels vs 3 units of chivalric knights, preferably upgrading the camels with 1 or 2 valour, to equal the costs to that of 1 chiv knight unit ( I think you can get 2 valour for that?).
-Mithrandir.
set up a custom battle with 2 units of (melee)camels vs 3 units of chivalric knights, preferably upgrading the camels with 1 or 2 valour, to equal the costs to that of 1 chiv knight unit ( I think you can get 2 valour for that?).
-Mithrandir.
I don't doubt you or the efficacy of camels, but as mighty as we are, the Cumans can't build them 
I had some briefly when I bribed the army of Constantinople, but they died very quickly in the Balkan mountains. I am sure it was because I don't know how to use them, and it was better that they died to save my steppe ponies
I had some briefly when I bribed the army of Constantinople, but they died very quickly in the Balkan mountains. I am sure it was because I don't know how to use them, and it was better that they died to save my steppe ponies
The Rise of Spain
The first decade of Ogadai’s rule saw a time of peace as the khan turned from the ways of the sword and fire to building for prosperity at home. The treasury was rich with plunder, and Ogadai II spent it wisely, founding two great fortresses in Carpathia and Hungary.
His emissaries and spies were beginning to send back increasingly concerning reports about the Spanish empire, and its seemingly unstoppable growth. In 1290, the Spanish king invaded Palestine and Tripoli finally forcing the Turkish Sultan to divert his fixed gaze away from Nicaea. It was the moment Lord Baghatur had waited for. He galloped over the border into Anatolia to destroy the citadel there. However, as he lined up against the defending Turk, his sharp eyes saw another army trudge onto the battlefield – and it flew the standards of Imperial Spain. The Turks seemed as astonished as he did, but the knowledge that this was not an alliance but an opportunistic land-grab did not make his situation any easier. A dug in foe high on a hillside in front, and a treacherous vulture to his vulnerable left. Baghatur gave no sign to his men of his concerns but issued crisp and clear orders as ever. A small holding action was to divert the Spanish attention while he baited and trapped the Turks. They died in their thousands in the deep valley, and the Cuman army drew breath on the far left flank of the Spanish. The enemy general milled uncertainly, and Baghatur’s cavalry ran them ragged up and down the hills. When the heavily armoured Catholics finally lost patience and charged the line, his recovered Cuman warriors shot them to pieces. Anatolia was pillaged to a smoking ruin.
This brilliant two front victory was a fitting end to a marvellous career. Lord Baghatur passed away peacefully in his castle of Nicaea just before the century turned. Was there ever such a warrior?
The old general would soon be missed more than ever. Ogadai tried to stir up problems for the expanding Spanish by sending spies to nearby provinces in the Italian peninsula and further afield. Many were caught and put to death but some got through and began fomenting dissent. In 1300, the khan tried more direct means, sending Lord Gostata, Prince of Bulgaria into Spanish Tuscany. Gostata won a hard fought battle and received his third rank, but a massive relief army of over 6,000 poured into the Tuscan hills from ships and provinces of every point of the compass. This huge host was led by Enrique I himself. Gostata fought a bitter engagement, contesting every blade of grass and won the day, but at such cost that he decided to abandon the siege the next year as more armies of gold massed on the horizon.
Meanwhile, Ogadai’s attention was fixed on the north where he planned to dispose of the Polish problem once and for all. As his preparations came to a head, he was stunned by a sudden attack on Volhynia by a large Novgorod army. For two hundred years the Novgorods had respected the borders and made no threatening moves. Similarly respectful, the Cuman khans had left them alone. But all this was betrayed.
In the driving rain of a thunderstorm, the northmen smashed the Cuman army. It was one of the worst defeats suffered by a khan since the legendary blizzard of Carpathia. Ogadai was humiliated.
In 1305 he sent his heir, Ordhun at the head of an overwhelming army back into Volhynia, and sensing his determination, the people of Novgorod ran. Another enormous Spanish army gathered in Tuscany and then invaded Venice, now defended by Prince Möngke. He had studied the Spanish carefully, and routed the invader who had come with too many arbalesters and siege engines. The Prince was fond of recalling this battle with his favourite witticism (which became rather over-familiar to the court after many years retelling) proffered to the enemy general in his chains: “Isn’t it just like a Spaniard – brings archers to a cavalry fight!”
1310 brought a unexpected turn of events – the Turkish Sultan sent an emissary to sue for peace. Ogadai accepted, as war on four fronts was a luxury too far even for a warrior khan. He took advantage of the peace on his eastern border to revive the war of revenge in the north, capturing Kiev in a quick campaign.
Ogadai died the next year. His brother Ordhun was a stout, tough man used to the saddle, but not a good general like his sibling. He continued the northern war, sending Lord Gostata into Greater Poland to end the defiance of the Polish king. Casimir I had long grown used to the ways of peace having been shut into his one province for many years. He fell easily for the tactics of the Cuman steppe heavy cavalry and perished – as did his line and the name of Poland.
Even more satisfying than the elimination of their ancient and intractable foe was the news from the west. Agitation had led to the sudden re-emergence of the Aragonese and Almohads, and the Spanish empire was suddenly rent from within. Ordhun immediately allied with both to further torment his enemy. In 1313, he bribed the rebels of Rhodes and his navy now controlled the eastern Mediterranean. Every Spanish ship that tried to establish a route to the eastern provinces was sunk on sight by roving fleets of baggalas. Finally, Ordhun married Prince Ogadai to Margarita of France, sealing another alliance against the Iberian juggernaut.
In the years 1316-1319, the Aragonese tore through the centre of Spain. North Africa became a wasteland as the Spanish and Moors took and re-took the provinces there. The Egyptians and Turks took advantage of Spain’s weakness and took back the eastern provinces. In 1320, the hapless Spanish king Felipe III was excommunicated by his one-time ally the Pope and his entire kingdom seemed to collapse into religious revolt. Perhaps luckily for his own people, Felipe expired of a broken heart the next year, and at least some of the empire recovered, a fragmented ruin of greatness.
Campaign Notes: I am not sure I can claim much effect for the Spanish collapse on my spies – they just over-extended themselves. However, the collapse from excommunication was spectacular. It brought a sigh of relief, I can tell you, because with the Novgorods attacking, I was feeling like an HRE player – borders and enemies on all sides! I was beginning to get thumped and having to plan to adapt tactics – and then the biggest blow of all.
When the Late period starts, one loses the ability to build bashkorts! This seemed a bit hard, since I now have no useful spear units – only heavily armoured standard spearmen. I have lots of bashkort units left but they are untrainable. Against the heavy horse and armoured units of the increasing number of enemies, I have lost my mobile ‘punch’.
The above is designed to cut down on the number of bashkort units whilst preserving their usefulness as hole-pluggers, armoured horse killers and flankers. The spear units are gold-armoured and weaponed, but their morale is still slightly suspect compared to the Cuman Warriors and Bashkorts. The Steppe Heavy Cavalry, also heavily armoured, try to ensure that any enemy is tired and shot up before he gets to the line. Best tactic against a Cuman defensive army is the all-out frontal rush at the centre, ignoring the cavalry as best you can. The Novgorods are excellent at this, but you need really high morale troops to stand the threat of cavalry in the rear, and the Novgorods tend to crack spectacularly at the wrong moment.
Baggalas are good in small fleets against the caravels of Spain. I have just finished the necessary buildings for booms on Bulgaria, so it will be interesting to see if I can retain my stranglehold on the seas east of Italy.
The first decade of Ogadai’s rule saw a time of peace as the khan turned from the ways of the sword and fire to building for prosperity at home. The treasury was rich with plunder, and Ogadai II spent it wisely, founding two great fortresses in Carpathia and Hungary.
His emissaries and spies were beginning to send back increasingly concerning reports about the Spanish empire, and its seemingly unstoppable growth. In 1290, the Spanish king invaded Palestine and Tripoli finally forcing the Turkish Sultan to divert his fixed gaze away from Nicaea. It was the moment Lord Baghatur had waited for. He galloped over the border into Anatolia to destroy the citadel there. However, as he lined up against the defending Turk, his sharp eyes saw another army trudge onto the battlefield – and it flew the standards of Imperial Spain. The Turks seemed as astonished as he did, but the knowledge that this was not an alliance but an opportunistic land-grab did not make his situation any easier. A dug in foe high on a hillside in front, and a treacherous vulture to his vulnerable left. Baghatur gave no sign to his men of his concerns but issued crisp and clear orders as ever. A small holding action was to divert the Spanish attention while he baited and trapped the Turks. They died in their thousands in the deep valley, and the Cuman army drew breath on the far left flank of the Spanish. The enemy general milled uncertainly, and Baghatur’s cavalry ran them ragged up and down the hills. When the heavily armoured Catholics finally lost patience and charged the line, his recovered Cuman warriors shot them to pieces. Anatolia was pillaged to a smoking ruin.
This brilliant two front victory was a fitting end to a marvellous career. Lord Baghatur passed away peacefully in his castle of Nicaea just before the century turned. Was there ever such a warrior?
The old general would soon be missed more than ever. Ogadai tried to stir up problems for the expanding Spanish by sending spies to nearby provinces in the Italian peninsula and further afield. Many were caught and put to death but some got through and began fomenting dissent. In 1300, the khan tried more direct means, sending Lord Gostata, Prince of Bulgaria into Spanish Tuscany. Gostata won a hard fought battle and received his third rank, but a massive relief army of over 6,000 poured into the Tuscan hills from ships and provinces of every point of the compass. This huge host was led by Enrique I himself. Gostata fought a bitter engagement, contesting every blade of grass and won the day, but at such cost that he decided to abandon the siege the next year as more armies of gold massed on the horizon.
Meanwhile, Ogadai’s attention was fixed on the north where he planned to dispose of the Polish problem once and for all. As his preparations came to a head, he was stunned by a sudden attack on Volhynia by a large Novgorod army. For two hundred years the Novgorods had respected the borders and made no threatening moves. Similarly respectful, the Cuman khans had left them alone. But all this was betrayed.
In the driving rain of a thunderstorm, the northmen smashed the Cuman army. It was one of the worst defeats suffered by a khan since the legendary blizzard of Carpathia. Ogadai was humiliated.
In 1305 he sent his heir, Ordhun at the head of an overwhelming army back into Volhynia, and sensing his determination, the people of Novgorod ran. Another enormous Spanish army gathered in Tuscany and then invaded Venice, now defended by Prince Möngke. He had studied the Spanish carefully, and routed the invader who had come with too many arbalesters and siege engines. The Prince was fond of recalling this battle with his favourite witticism (which became rather over-familiar to the court after many years retelling) proffered to the enemy general in his chains: “Isn’t it just like a Spaniard – brings archers to a cavalry fight!”
1310 brought a unexpected turn of events – the Turkish Sultan sent an emissary to sue for peace. Ogadai accepted, as war on four fronts was a luxury too far even for a warrior khan. He took advantage of the peace on his eastern border to revive the war of revenge in the north, capturing Kiev in a quick campaign.
Ogadai died the next year. His brother Ordhun was a stout, tough man used to the saddle, but not a good general like his sibling. He continued the northern war, sending Lord Gostata into Greater Poland to end the defiance of the Polish king. Casimir I had long grown used to the ways of peace having been shut into his one province for many years. He fell easily for the tactics of the Cuman steppe heavy cavalry and perished – as did his line and the name of Poland.
Even more satisfying than the elimination of their ancient and intractable foe was the news from the west. Agitation had led to the sudden re-emergence of the Aragonese and Almohads, and the Spanish empire was suddenly rent from within. Ordhun immediately allied with both to further torment his enemy. In 1313, he bribed the rebels of Rhodes and his navy now controlled the eastern Mediterranean. Every Spanish ship that tried to establish a route to the eastern provinces was sunk on sight by roving fleets of baggalas. Finally, Ordhun married Prince Ogadai to Margarita of France, sealing another alliance against the Iberian juggernaut.
In the years 1316-1319, the Aragonese tore through the centre of Spain. North Africa became a wasteland as the Spanish and Moors took and re-took the provinces there. The Egyptians and Turks took advantage of Spain’s weakness and took back the eastern provinces. In 1320, the hapless Spanish king Felipe III was excommunicated by his one-time ally the Pope and his entire kingdom seemed to collapse into religious revolt. Perhaps luckily for his own people, Felipe expired of a broken heart the next year, and at least some of the empire recovered, a fragmented ruin of greatness.
Campaign Notes: I am not sure I can claim much effect for the Spanish collapse on my spies – they just over-extended themselves. However, the collapse from excommunication was spectacular. It brought a sigh of relief, I can tell you, because with the Novgorods attacking, I was feeling like an HRE player – borders and enemies on all sides! I was beginning to get thumped and having to plan to adapt tactics – and then the biggest blow of all.
When the Late period starts, one loses the ability to build bashkorts! This seemed a bit hard, since I now have no useful spear units – only heavily armoured standard spearmen. I have lots of bashkort units left but they are untrainable. Against the heavy horse and armoured units of the increasing number of enemies, I have lost my mobile ‘punch’.
The above is designed to cut down on the number of bashkort units whilst preserving their usefulness as hole-pluggers, armoured horse killers and flankers. The spear units are gold-armoured and weaponed, but their morale is still slightly suspect compared to the Cuman Warriors and Bashkorts. The Steppe Heavy Cavalry, also heavily armoured, try to ensure that any enemy is tired and shot up before he gets to the line. Best tactic against a Cuman defensive army is the all-out frontal rush at the centre, ignoring the cavalry as best you can. The Novgorods are excellent at this, but you need really high morale troops to stand the threat of cavalry in the rear, and the Novgorods tend to crack spectacularly at the wrong moment.
Baggalas are good in small fleets against the caravels of Spain. I have just finished the necessary buildings for booms on Bulgaria, so it will be interesting to see if I can retain my stranglehold on the seas east of Italy.
Gah!...
I feel for you ;).
Mercenaries?
I feel for you ;).
Mercenaries?
Fascinating campaign thus far, Spains fall from grace is a warning to all empires who over-reach themselves, I personally would prefer a withered weakened Spanish empire to a resurgent energetic Aragon, they need watching methinks.
Damn harsh with the Bashkorts, mercenaries will probably provide a short-term solution, unfortunately the loss of such a useful unit can't be properly recovered from.
Damn harsh with the Bashkorts, mercenaries will probably provide a short-term solution, unfortunately the loss of such a useful unit can't be properly recovered from.
Really nice update Haruchai! Its nice to see some screenshots too. Where is France right now, also does the HRE exist anymore? I want to play XL again so much now!
Great read as always, Haruchai! A pity you can't train Bashkorts anymore; their wearing away is indeed a loss to the Khan. I'm worried that you may have little choice but to switch to all-cavalry armies...
Originally Posted by NodachiSam:
Really nice update Haruchai! Its nice to see some screenshots too. Where is France right now, also does the HRE exist anymore? I want to play XL again so much now!
I've added some more screenshots into earlier posts now.Really nice update Haruchai! Its nice to see some screenshots too. Where is France right now, also does the HRE exist anymore? I want to play XL again so much now!
If you look carefully at the illustration of the Collapse of the Spanish, you will see the resurgence of the French from their last bastion. The HRE does still exist and has been my trusted ally for nearly two centuries but reduced to the north Germanic coast and now Silesia - you might just see them on the map.
Aetius, you can see that Aragon did not last long enough to become a problem to me, though a serious thorn in the Spanish hide
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