Update 4: Igniting a Powder Keg
603 FF
1600 BGM
998 DYE
Hindsight is 20/20, and it seems obvious now that the sizzling tensions that had occurred ever since the then Portugala settled in
France were bound to explode at some point or another. It was, essentially, the classic explosive with the smoldering fuze... No one knew when it would go off.
Of course, it did one fine year, about 1659, as reckoned by Syrian travelers to the area.
The King of France, Louis, a monarch with great ambition and a somewhat lavish lifestyle, ordered his army to march on Brittany without any warning whatsoever. Though somewhat forewarned by their allies suspicions, the Brittanians were taken rather by surprise, and the town of Rennes was taken easily, with hardly any resistance.
However, the whole army of Brittany met the French on the road to their capital, a large host of 4,000, newly increased from previous incarnations.
It was an epic battle, the likes of which France had never seen, 10,000 men in total. The spearmen on either side clashed in a furious frenzy, the arrows, some alight with pitch, raining down on the opposing forces. But in the end, the tightly packed French formations won the day, though they took a great deal of casualties from arrow fire.
The archers from the Brittanic army managed to flee, or about half of them did, and instead of melting away like so many of the armies of the day, the little love they had for their families and homes drew them to the defense of Nantes, which resists French siege fiercely... However, the French have bombarded the city with many an arrow, and it seems that it will fall, given some time.
Meanwhile, plunder and new taxes from Nantes have given the French a slight economic boost...
However, this is negated by the poor crop yields that have occurred in the Seine Valley, the cost of building the king a new, sumptuous palace, and the raids of Gauls and Frisians on the frontiers of the new Empire.
And while the prince of Anjou has sworn allegiance to King Louis, the revenues from this new province still only manage to balance out the budget after a dozen years of fierce winter storms, one of which caused a considerable amount of damage to the Royal palace.
Also, the French have landed a small expedition in Britain, which seems a nice enough place. Unfortunately, its already inhabited, and the Cantivelliaunii arent particularly friendly neighbors. Rumor has it, though, that the Portugese are somewhere on this island as well, and thus perhaps they could destroy another of their enemies at the same time as conquering the Britons...
Interestingly enough, though, the French have managed to gain the technology to smelt a rather high grade forged iron, by finding the right formula mixing carbon and iron. This, while not exactly the best metal to work with, is cheap, effective, and when made right, new iron swords can shear directly through the old bronze types. The scientist Claude Chappe was responsible for this revolutionary breakthrough, and he is expected to make many more discoveries in his already fruitful life.
(Brittany: -2,000 spearmen, -1,000 archers, -1 economy; France: -1,000 spearmen, -1,000 archers, +1 economy, -1 economy, +1 Great Scientist)
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Meanwhile, the other proverbial time bomb had already gone off in Tingis. The local governor who had called for independence, seizing power, had in the short time available, made the local area into a fully independent despotism.
However, no sooner had he accomplished this than the
Portugese and Tartessian armies invaded full scale across the straits of Gibraltar, from their new base at the Rock, replete with all sorts of soldiers from all over the Portugese Empire.
Unfortunately, there was a small problem. The
Balearic Isles had apparently decided to involve themselves in this war, and they landed only days after the Portugese. Strategically outflanked, the Portugese commander pulled back a bit to regroup, and faced the armies arrayed against him at the base of the Tangier Peninsula. A large battle of well over five thousand men ensued, with a phalanx of spearmen pushing at each other in the front lines while arrows rained upon each.
But then the Portugese horsemen managed to sweep around the flank of the enemy armies, and the latter were shattered, with the horsemen plunging into their rear. All was chaos for an hour or so, as straggling remnants of the Balearics and the Tingis armies filtered through the horsemen screen of the Portugese, the defeated armies fleeing for their lives.
The triumphant Portugese armies advanced on the capital of Tingis and reduced it after a short siege, though there is slight resistance still in the countryside.
On sea, though, things were a little different. The Balearic fleet, organized, fast, and well experienced from their pirate raids, fell upon the anchored Portugese escorts like wolves upon sheep. While the Portugese fleet was well suited for ocean battles, and had sturdier ships than the Balearics, the islanders used their speed, agility, and ferocity well, slaughtering the Portugese. A few ships escaped, though, to tell the tale.
(Portugal: -500 spearmen, -500 archers, -100 horsemen, -40 ships; Tartessos: -1,000 spearmen, -500 archers; Tingis: -500 spearmen, -500 archers, -1 economy; Balearic Isles: -500 spearmen, -2,000 archers, -10 ships)
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Meanwhile, things in the North of the Portugese trading empire, minus the French invasion of their ally Brittany, were going well enough. The peace with the Irish was well received, and the new settlements in Wales were just as nice as the Irish, and without the menacing barbarians. Well, some of them, at least.
There are a few Welsh tribes that want the Portugese out, but the local governor assures the king that they arent a threat. Further trade has sprung up with the Dumnonii, and the Portugese have begun to exert a serious influence on the British tribes.
Not all is well, of course... The Cantivelliaunii, already a powerful tribe, has been growing in recent years, and is starting to demand tribute from everyone around it. War is brewing on the Isles, and the untimely arrival of the Portugese enemies, the French, doesnt help much.
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Meanwhile,
Ravennas little empire is coming along quite nicely.
The soldiers of the nation have rapidly pushed their influence through the Illyrian region, establishing city after city in the rich farmland and wooded hills. They have grown rather rich and prosperous immediately, not only due to the ever scarce commodity of farmland being in good supply, but also because of various mineral deposits.
At the eastern edge of the territory, the Ravennans have built a huge triple fortress, an edifice like that the world has never seen before. The walls are as thick as Babylons, it is said, and as high as Ravennas itself. The towers are numerous and well stocked, their battlements looming over all the rivers they surround. And the fortress guards every bit of the area, reinforcing the land fortifications and cutting the river off from assault.
Perhaps, no, certainly this is a good thing for Ravenna, for perhaps without it, Illyria would not have reached its present prosperity.
Dacians on the eastern edge of the empire, with their fierce falxmen, have made a serious indentation on local forces attempting to keep the peace. Occasionally they even break past the border fortresses, plundering a few small towns before either being caught or racing back across the Danube. While they are mere nuisances, these have stopped the Illyrian area from becoming the highly productive place it could be.
In southern Ravenna, though, events go quite as well as planned. The perfectly executed territorial exchange with the Balearics means that the Ravennan Empire has vastly increased in size, however, the disparity of the various elements are starting to become a bother to manage, and campaigns in the very south of the empire would be a huge problem logistically.
Massallia has joined with Ravenna in a quiet union, the people of the city state giving up independence for the chance to resettle in Carthage. The great New City has greatly grown in population and size, now sprawling like it never did before, not even before the Balearics came knocking at the gates.
And in Ravenna proper, the metallurgists of the city manage to finally produce their holy graila cheap, mass producible, effective iron. The breakthrough, it is said, came from the French, a few ideas filtering down to the rather uneducated Ravennans... And the result is a slightly lower quality iron than the French, but still higher quality than any of their other neighbors has ever come up with yet.
Lastly, but certainly not least, a convoy of envoys
p) has made its way to the Garamantes port of Tripoli. Journeying south from there and distributing a veritable mountain of gifts along the way, they have found to the farthest south, across the Sahara Desert, the people known as the Malians, who, while apparently quite self contained, are still clearly one of the greatest empires ever seen, probably as great as Ravenna itself, if not greater. The king was so rich in gold that when the envoys returned home, they came with a virtual mound of golden and gold leafed gifts, which not only highly impressed the upper classes of Ravennan society, it also managed to increase the prestige of the Empire much.
(Ravenna: +1 Confidence)
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Speaking of
Mali, the king, having been taken rather ill, has left instructions for an advisor to take his place for the time being. All is going rather well, and the kingdom managed to eradicate a few more scattered tribes in this particular time period. Contact has also been made with all the other local kingdoms, including two unknowns until now:
It would appear that the Ashanti have formed themselves into a true kingdom finally, and, having a large and fanatical army, have invaded the nation of Dahomey. The Malian envoys were treated to the sight of a thousand new recruits on their way to batter the beleaguered nation even further, all being drilled in a rather impressive fashion.
The other kingdom, along the Gambia River, is Takrur. Not much is known about them... Yet.
Also, Tartessian envoys inadvertently help the already supreme Malian metallurgists into forging their first iron. While not of high quality, that is almost certain to better by the next century.
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Backtracking across the Sahara, we find ourselves back in the good old Malukate of
Syria.
That certain Maluk, by the way, was having difficulties in escaping the stigma of being an illegitimate heir to the throne, and this certainly stirred up the possibility of rebellion, which was already quite huge. Indeed, by the time the actual Great Rebellion fell into place, many of the Maluks closest advisors were quite deep in the plot.
The rebellion was launched quite suddenly, on a New Years day, in fact, and at first seemed to startle the Syrian forces into virtual inaction. They were in almost every part of Syria, each city seemingly spewing forth a veritable horde of rebels. Even in Damascus, fighting broke out in the streets, which soon turned into a march on the Medina Maluk, with thousands of citizens chanting for the false Maluk to give up the throne that was not his.
Then, all of a sudden, it happened. Rebel leaders all around Syria were found dead, with knives planted in rather painful parts of their anatomy, with a small clay tablet bound to each knife (paper being rather scarce in these days, and rebels being rather plentiful) detailing the crimes of the rebel against Syria. This completely shattered the rebellion in a day, almost all of their leaders gone, their hopes shattered, in a single, black day.
But there was hope yet, as a stirring Arab from the desert proclaimed that he would lead the rebels, that through an obscure blood tie, he had the blood of Baal, and that he, and he alone, was the true Maluk. A rather remarkable man by the name of Salal al Dyn, he rapidly rallied the remnants of the rebellion and led them in a furious crusade through Palestine, almost to the gates of Damascus.
He was finally crushed when his own servants suddenly plunged four knives into his heart, and his forces, too, were broken and scattered... But not before they had wrecked remarkable havoc on Palestine. And even scattered, they were no good, for roving bands of bandits looted the countryside, devastating the Malukates economy...
And almost in conjunction with this, the Euphrates Pox suddenly rushed into the cities of Syria, killing a good third of the population in the first ten years. The fearsome plague was such a horror that the population of Syria actually rapidly crashed for a generation, only slowly flattening and forming into the familiar pattern of growth; Damascus itself has shrunken, the walls now standing rather forlornly, with most of the houses that used to crowd beneath them abandoned, looted, and burned to the ground.
Fortunately for the Malukate, a great missionary has made a round trip into Arabia, and hundreds of thousands of nomads and merchants alike are now converts to the religion. They believe that the present Maluk was chosen for a reason... And they now demand he come and aid their nations, for they fear a coming war between good and evil...
The nations of Arabia naturally dont look upon this at all kindly, as their citizens apparently want to be under a different areas rule, and they warily increase their armed forces, looking north, preparing.
And they have much to be worried about, as the strong trade links with Ravenna finally bring in windfall: the Syrians have gotten their paws... er... hands on the secret of iron working, even if it is low grade.
(Syria: -2 economy, -1,000 spearmen, -1,000 archers, -300 UU, +3 culture)*
