Legends of the Khan: BC Hotseat story thread

[SilverShield]

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Disclaimer:

First of all dont expect too much. Since I was worried the game might crash and everything being worth nothing I just took shots at the beginning and the end of the battle. Every time I got back to the desktop to open paint and save the shot I was close to collapse thinking it will crash now. So actually the biggest relive was when it was finally over and I could pass the save on.

Since I still got this german version of the game installed you certainly wont understand the words. I dont get it all either but the numbers matter so it should be okay.

As I already said Im not that big on story writing so its more like telling you what I did in order to win than the sort of poetic writing you guys are capable of. Anyway since these battle determined the outcome of the game it might still be interesting for you.

One thing first. The fact that 1 army crushed 6 major armies was pretty amazing and really does tell a lot about the strength of the Mongols.

The Breakthrough

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It was amazing when I realised that I will get the chance to fight. I hadnt fought one battle with the Mongols in the field before so I did know nothing about their strength. So when I conquered the second fort and cleared my way to fight… that was a great thing.
Actually just wanted to clear the forts in the north to secure a path of retreat in order it gets nasty while advancing on Baghdad but hey…

THE FIRST BATTLE

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Well after I broke through I chose an army that has been untouched so far to spear head my assault.

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Since this was my first battle I didnt know what to expect. Obviously I aimed for losing as less troops as possible which means avoiding close combat as long as possible and rely heavily on arrows instead.
Actually I wanted to slowly approach and just shoot down the army as I did in the original Medieval game before quite often.
Well.. the computer is not that stupid in Broken Crescent. It s not just standing by idling waiting for the troops to be shot down from the distance. Instead it did approach me. So I somehow had to change my strategy to splitting up and outmanoeuvring the infantry to cross fire it and take it down with cavalry as soon as the broke their formation. Quickly taking out the Caliphats cavalry was essential obviously.
Well things went as I planned. I took out the cavalry at ease and pretty much wore down the infantry that was chasing mine with arrows and cavalry strikes. No matter where the Calipahts infantry went there was always a pack of Mongols to shoot them in the back or a cavalry unit to do the same on a horse.
So all in all it went pretty good and I was satisfied with the outcome.

THE SECOND BATTLE - THE MAGNIFICENT FIVE

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After the successful first battle I wanted to go on exactly as I did.
The thing with the second battle was that there was way more cavalry I had to deal with. Notably The Magnificent Five as I d like to call those 5 generals that had been part of this army. They really gave me a hard time since they just didnt want to kick the bucket and over and over again attacked my infantry that I d split up as with in the first battle.
The problem was that my heavy cavalry was to slow to even catch the bodyguards so they always got out of the trap. They are furthermore immune to arrows even fire arrows so those bodyguards broke through my line of defence several times and got my infantry into close combat action. Well at least I then could attack them with my own cavalry. But none of the actual generals died. They just fell back and got after me over and over again. It was at the very end of the battle before I managed to finally kill them or they routed. Truly some magnificent five. Alamo sort of thing dudes.

THE THIRD BATTLE - THE BATTLE OF THE HILL OF DOOM

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Now that actually was the battle I was second likely the most. to lose.
In an attempt to secure the highest hill on the map I placed my units pretty as close to this hill as possible not realising the enemy zone of deployment. So when the battle started the Mameluks already were so damn close and they managed to seize the hill first. This was an army mainly of cavalry troops just light one but fast. So before I even could form my line of defence the entire Mameluk cavalry went into a hurry up offence and they stroke me severly. There was much planning going on then it was just pumping units forward hoping to be victorious. Thanks to the amazing Mongol cavalry the Mameluks horse troops slowly vanished so I at least could size the top of Hill of Doom and position my infantry the way the can shoot straight down the hill at the approaching Mameluk infantry while some its cavalry got back on me over and over again approaching my infantry which although pretty strong lack spears so they certainly aint best at fighting cavalry. Nonetheless the horses were too little in number already to break my formation again and since it was just light cavalry they suffered loses when even trying to approach my no fire arrow shooting infantry. So in the end volley after volley went down the hill wearing down the Mameluk infantry which then stood no chance against the cavalry charges of my heave lancers rushing down the Hill of Doom.
Although I won this thing it has been pretty close in the beginning. The numbers might hide the fact that his was the second most hard battle.

THE FOURTH BATTLE - THE MASSACRE

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This battle truly was a massacre. The Mameluks army mainly consisted of archers and light infantry so I quickly took out the too little cavalry and somehow encircled the infantry in the distance. Then my cavalry charged against the assembled infantry pretty much from all sides. Since the cluster was that big the first charge didnt break them so after some close combat action my horses fell back while at the same time my own infantry approached the scene. The second cavalry charge was followed by the infantry so that the Mameluks had been totally encircled. In a total battle of encirclement the Mameluks were pretty much massacred on the battlefield. Almost the entire army was killed in the field.

THE FIFTH BATTLE - THE FORGOTTEN

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Well I dont remember anything about battle five anymore. Probably has just been a decent battle.

THE SIXTH BATTLE - THE FINAL BATTLE Pt I

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I thought this was going to be the final battle since I planned on crushing the last 2 remaining Mameluk armies. Since I wanted to crush the 2 armies I moved the Great Khan himself to the frontline to support my assault with an all cavalry army.
I positioned my troops on top of a hill from where they shot down anything trying to approach my position. The entire army slowly moved down the hill with the cavalry charging against various troops on the way. When I reached the bottom of the hill the Mameluk army had been worn down pretty much already. Some outmanoeuvring and shooting in the back as well as some well positioned cavalry charges pretty much killed it before the second army could reach the scene. I then moved my army back up the hill aiming towards doing the same again. But the second army turned right after they arrived the battle seen. Since I wanted to destroy both armies this result didnt really satisfy me but anyways.

THE SEVENTH BATTLE - FINAL BATTLE Pt II

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The final battle was the most intense. Since my infantry had no movement points left I formed only could attack with the all cavalry army under command of the Great Khan. Not the best decision as I know by now but pretty much the only way to fight the last 2 Mameluk armies.
When the battle started I got the message that my reinforcements wont arrive whysoever. So I wanted to take down the first Mameluk army as fast as possible obviously especially since I could not rely on my archers in this battle. The thing was that this Mameluk army apparently was the best equipped one consisting mainly of medium spearmen. Since there were to archers to shoot them in the back I tried to separate them and cavalry charge them in the back which didnt go that well since they pretty much kept the formation while at the same time the Mameluk horse archers decimated my own cavalry. This ended up in micro management hell where every unit had to be dealt with on its on every second. Due to all these things it was impossible to take down the first Mameluk army before the Caliphate reinforcements arrived the scene. Although little in number it consisted mainly of heavy infantry and also heavy spearmen. With my horse archers running out of ammo and my heavy lancers being decimated already taking out the Caliphate army did gave me a hard time. It got worse when the second Mameluk army arrived. So now it was just about not losing this battle and not about losing as less troops as possible anymore. Subsequently the number of suicide cavalry charges rose since there was no way anymore to split up the frontline. With my own and my enemies army worn down I send my entire remaining cavalry on a suicide mission in order to brake the formation. In the biggest cavalry charge I d witnessed so far I broke the enemies formation. Finally units of the second Mameluk army rooted. Although this charge did cost the live of many of my horses it was worth it. When I was about to clear the field my computer reinforcements did arrive. Right in time… They took out some rooting units so that I could focus on the ones still fighting. They didnt stand any chance anymore now that their formation was broken. Some final cavalry charges wore them down and pretty much killed the battle.
This certainly was the longest and most intense battle. There were several times when I though I might lose this one. Really stroke me when suddenly the second Mameluk army did arrive the scene. However in the end it did work out so… all good.
As I already said seeing one army doing this was quite impressive and definitely underline the fact that the game was pretty much over. Its quite remarkable that the entire war/ game was in the end decided by luck mostly. Guess its just like in real warfare, someone at some moment in time is lucky in a war and this particular moment does decide the entire conflict.
Had a blast. Was a cool thing and a good experience.

[phonicsmonkey]

The Caliph dreamed...

He dreamed he passed through a small doorway off a narrow laneway, somewhere in one of the great cities of his realm. Out of the stultifying heat and the hustle and bustle of the souq and into a dark chamber where he was bathed in a cool breeze which blew gently through an archway ahead of him. The archway was bright with a blinding light and he squinted as he approached it, passing through with his arm raised to his forehead to shield his eyes.

He found himself in the verdant courtyard of a traditional Arab palace, such as one would find in Damascus inhabited by one of the nobles of the Caliphate and decorated with intricate tiles of many colours in fascinating geometric patterns.

It was lined with fruit trees, colourful with orange and cherry blossom emitting an enticing perfume. In the centre of the courtyard was an ornamental fountain which contributed a fine and cooling mist while cheerfully burbling its watery tune.

Sitting at the fountain was a man he recognised. Approaching cautiously he saw that it was Az-Zahir, son of great An-Nasir and the former Crown Prince of the Caliphate. His older brother, although they had not been permitted to grow up together. Suleyman was filled with a mixture of grief and joy to see his fallen kin once more and called out to him Brother! How good it is to see you!

Az-Zahir was robed in shimmering green silk, emblazoned with gold thread in patterns denoting the constellations of the night sky. His face was sorrowful and on casting eyes on Suleyman he began to weep openly, his tears falling with a series of thundering crashes onto the tiled marble, which cracked under their weight.

Suleyman was afraid and turned away from the young man, fleeing through another archway into a smaller courtyard which held a series of beehives. Here he found a man wearing a large turban, standing deathly still with his eyes shut at the centre of an ornate tiled design in between all of the hives.

It was Marshed, who had been Vizier to An-Nasir in Suleyman's childhood. He was clad in black velvet, with blood-red thread embroidery and he cut an intimidating figure. Suleyman approached him and asked Marshed, how is it that you are here? Where is your son Khalil?

Marshed's eyes flicked open and he caught sight of Suleyman. He grinned wickedly and raised his arms up above his head, bringing forth from the hives a swarm of bees which circled him and poured into his open mouth.

Suleyman was again fearful and was deafened by the terrible buzzing. His hands over his ears and fleeing once more, passed through another archway into a quiet courtyard shaded by coconut palms. The husks of fallen coconuts had formed a soft mat around the trunks of the palms and Suleyman sat down for a moment to rest.

He was soon aware of a presence behind him.

Looking around and up over his shoulder, he saw a giant figure looming over him. It was his father, the great An-Nasir, Defender of the Faith, Prince of the Two Seas and Caliph of Islam. An-Nasir's head was silhouetted against the sun and palm fronds sketched him something of a halo. Suleyman fell to the ground before him and, grabbing at his feet, began to weep.

O Great One, father of mine, how I have failed you! The invaders are at the very gates and we shall surely fall. All of your good work is to be undone and the ummah will suffer terribly. I am so ashamed...

An-Nasir placed a comforting hand on his son's head and gently lifted his face until their eyes met.

Do not be ashamed my child. The lifespan of our nation is but the flicker of a candle when set against the blazing glory of Allah and his works. You have led the ummah as best you could. A victory against this foe was never to be - Allah did not will it to be so. Yet the faithful will endure and the word of the Prophet will be spread in our fertile crescent long after their cruel hoofs have departed. Yea, even those of the invader that remain will find Allah's grace and will take up the sword in his name against the infidel.

All is far from lost.

Suleyman began to rise to his feet.

Then I must return - there is much to be done and..

An-Nasir cut him short with a smile and a shake of his head.

No my son, you will not return this day. Stay a while with us here in the gardens. Your part in these events is finished.

Suleyman sat down once more on the soft matt of coconut husks, under the palm fronds in the tiled courtyard. An-Nasir sat next to him and together they prayed.

Finally, for the first time in many years, he felt at peace.

[phonicsmonkey]

Tariq forced his way through the crowds which packed the streets around the Royal Palace at Baghdad, his heart heavy with grief.

It was now barely a week since he had discovered his old friend Suleyman, the Caliph of Islam, cold and dead in his chambers. While he was struck with the deepest sorrow at being parted from his closest companion and master, he had seen in the Caliph's lined face a peace that had not been present for many troubled years. Suleyman deserved his rest.

For the nation he left behind there was to be no rest. No sooner had the Caliph's death been announced than the news had come from the eastern front - the Mongol hordes had broken through the defensive lines slaying thousands of the Caliphate's finest, including the bulk of the Mamluk expeditionary force. They now threatened Baghdad itself and the Seljuk capital at Rayy and there was no practical defence that could now be organised.

How is it that when the vessel begins to creak and let in water, the rats begin to appear on the deck? The Caliph's uncle, the loathsome Al-Qahir, Sultan of the Eastern Caliphate, had somehow contrived to be absent from the final terrible battles and, still more conveniently, had with him in his encampment the fey youth who now claimed the crown of the khalifa, by dint of his obscure descent from the slain Crown Prince Al-Mustarshid.

So had the Caliphate finally fallen into the hands of the corpulent and despised brother of An-Nasir - and what was he to do with it? Hand it over to the invader of course.

Hence the riotous crowds here surrounding the Royal Palace, outraged at the surrender of Islam to the goatherds of the Orient. Already the Royal Ghulam guard, acting on instruction from Al-Qahir's agents in the Palace, gathered to put down the putative rebellion with their cruel blades.

Peace, of a sort, would be restored. But at what cost?

Tariq could not bear to consider the indignities which awaited the ummah in the years to come. His heart rebelled at the thought of serving a puppet Sultan of the Mongols.

Making his way through a secret side entrance and into the Palace complex, he went to his chambers and prepared mint tea. While the water boiled he stoked a fire in the hearth and set ablaze his personal papers and those belongings which he wished none to touch.

Pouring the tea, he added a draft of black, viscous poison that he had acquired in the souq from a swarthy apothecary.

Grimacing at the bitter taste, he drank it in one gulp before retiring to his favourite armchair in front of the fire.

Tariq, Vizier of Suleyman and Abu-Bakr, confidant of Caliphs, diplomat, strategist and negotiator, removed his turban, kicked off his sandals, sat back in his chair and closed his eyes.

[phonicsmonkey]

Al-Qahir, Sultan of Iran, hated brother of Great An-Nasir, uncle of Suleyman and the true governing power behind the Vassal Caliphate, eased his massive corpulent frame into a gilded chair in the palace at Shiraz and exhaled a long, satisfied breath as he began to relax at the end of a long day's feasting.

These Mongols were not such a bad bunch.

Certainly the common folk were indiscriminately enslaved, tortured and killed by the occupiers on an almost daily basis. But for those of the noble caste that had agreed to side with Al-Qahir in cutting a deal with the Khan life was markedly better than it had been for some years.

With the child Caliph some years away from maturity and what was left of the Caliphate armies loyal to he alone, Al-Qahir felt comfortable that the remaining years of his life could be spent in the luxury to which he was quickly becoming accustomed.

Chief among his problems at present was the need to replant the vineyards of Shiraz, trampled underfoot by the bothersome Armies of Islam as they had marched back and forth to their ultimate doom at the hands of the Great Khan and his horsemen. Such was his terrible burden!

He chuckled to himself at the thought. Which man would have foreseen this, that clever Al-Qahir, picked on, pushed around and unfairly treated his whole life by that insufferable prig An-Nasir and his brood would outlive them all and take the power that had been rightfully his all this time!

And with none left to oppose him! He chuckled once more, then allowed himself a full-throated guffaw as he reflected once more on his good fortune.

Thus he did not hear the soft footsteps, did not sense the approach in the cool breeze which buffeted the silk curtains at the open window, did not see the glint of the moonlight on the bitingly thin wire garotte wrapped around the hands of Khalil, son of Marshed as he whipped it around Al-Qahir's fat throat and choked the life out of him.

In the final seconds of his life, while panicking, kicking, squirming, eyes-bulging, clawing at the wire which in the end sliced his throat open like a bird on a butcher's block, he did see the eyes of his killer, recognised them and with a glint of realisation understood that he had not, after all, been able to escape the shared doom which had claimed them all.

And when it was done and the fat Sultan lay cold and senseless on the flagstones, that doom padded off again out of the open window and into the desert, bringing an end at last to the long life of the Caliphate.