Into the Old Kingdom
[X] Show them the wrath of God
The ancient kingdom of Ymaryn has grown arrogant. They defy the overtures of the Great Khan and throw them into his face, believing themselves secure in their fastness. For longer than anyone can remember they stood like a mountain and they believe that no steppe chieftain can seriously threaten them.
Yet the Horde has made a habit out of humbling ancient empires, and the Ymaryn shall prove no different. Eager to teach the Ymaryn a lesson in submission, the Great Khan prepares the most sophisticated campaign yet devised. The Ymaryn have spent many lifetimes creating walled defenses to hold back nomads. The Great Khan's agents sweep them away in a single night of fire and perfect coordination, and the Horde pours into the newly-made passages and across the Ymaryn lands like a burning, howling wind. Honor God. Give glory unto Him. For the hour of His judgment has come.
Belatedly, the Ymaryn rush out to battle. And something strange happens. For the first time the Horde finds itself outnumbered. The Ymaryn pour out of their hills in uncountable armies. The horde fights like a dervish, shredding seemingly superior forces, engaging only at the time of the Khan's choosing. Yet even the most favorable battles leave their scars. The enemy's vast
tercios composed of pike-wielding troops and crossbowmen prove a challenge unlike any seen before, able to blunt cavalry assaults and go toe to toe with horse archers. Time after time the Great Khan triumphs, yet the path forward is littered with corpses and the Ymaryn show no signs of weakening. Indeed, with every piece of land that falls under the Khan's control they seem to grow more desperate. Their armies swell with screaming warriors led by berserkers dressed in cloaks of crow feathers, and even simple peasants who seem to care for nothing except the maintenance of the land turn into howling mobs, attacking the People's overseers with scythe and axe.
Yet for all of their endless, desperate courage the Ymaryn cannot stop the Horde's advance. Soon their northern cities burn. Soon their western provinces contact the Great Khan, begging for quarter. Only their core still stands against the Great Khan. The most ancient cities in the world; cities whose walls haven't seen an enemy since before the first brick was laid down. To take them would ensure the Great Khan's place in the chronicle of ages would never be forgotten...yet for the first time in decades victory seems uncertain. The Horde has been bled by years of savage battles. A single misstep, and it could yet be buried beneath crossbow bolts. It may yet prove safer to leave the Ymaryn intact and demand concessions...yet the the thought chafes.
[ ] Humiliate the Ymaryn (Major Prestige gain)
[ ] Demand tribute (+40 Wealth, moderate Prestige gain)
[ ] FINISH THEM! (Strips garrisons in all provinces, major Centralization penalties, gain all of Ymaryn land and powerful Legacies on success, chance to shatter on failure)
The Great Khan calls his brothers to his side. And as one, they heed the call. The steppes are home only to women and the elderly as every eager young warrior rides west to swell the horde. The northern Ram mercenaries are called back from their mountain campaigns and into the Ymaryn hills. In the east the native governors are granted some of their old authority as the Khan's generals surge to his side, taking with them seemingly every engineer and alchemist in the land. The full might of the Khan stands ready to slam into the core of the ancient empire. Splitting command of the auxiliary forces between his sons and grandsons, the Great Khan places himself at the head of the greatest cavalry horde ever assembled and commands them to ride south.
Five years later he claws his way out from a mountain of bodies. With blood-caked eyes he looks across the landscape. The once-flat valley is now impassable. Everywhere the passage is barred by mountains of corpses ringed by lakes and rivers of blood. The crows have descended and they feast on their brothers and his warriors without distinction. They are the only true victors of this battle.
The Khan has cleared his way forward, but the army that once shook the world with its passage now numbers meager thousands. The clever easterners who breached the walls of so many fortress cities aren't among them. The Great Khan has not enough strength left to bring down the oldest cities of the Ymaryn. He rides home, his quest only half-completed. Though he knocked the Ymaryn down from their throne, he never sat the throne himself.
He doesn't get the chance to try again. The failure of the campaign proves to be total. Hearing of their conqueror's weakness, city dwellers the world over overthrow the depleted garrisons of the People and reclaim their patrimony. The steppe tribes renounce their loyalties one by one until the Great Khan, aged and suffering from the wounds gained over a lifetime of war, is left as a ruler of one large horseman tribe among many.
***
There. Completed the substance for Negaverse!Mongols. If anyone wants to add the salt, feel free.
@Academia Nut
