Black Tides, 1196-1203
Zenek K: Thanks for the compliments, now busy in country-strengthing.
mfigueras: Really I was just inactive and took some poetic license to say something more interesting than "a few years passed and nothing really happened." Though I did have a bad run of drought and pestilence events.
Lord G.Q. White: Fortunately, the Mongols remain just a little beyond my borders for the time being, a happy situation unlikely to continue much longer
Stnylan: Yes I do. I often miss that "Premature death of monarch" event from EU1 when stuck with a lemon, at least I wasn't playing the Golden Horde
Storey: Glad to see I've inspired someone
, makes my day. I wish you well with the Song, they've got a good position until the Mongols start breathing down your neck.
Merrick: I may have to try this ally with the Mongols event, it'd probably be a lot easier than fighting them
Judge: The Mongols have certainly thrashed everyone so far and their graphics are indeed cool. I am still working with 0.3 at the moment but plan to download 0.3.3.3 when my Song game ends.
TheBee: Judge is right, China is Mahayana Buddhist (Buddhism is divided into Mahayana and Theravda sects in MES) and the Mongols are pagan.
BrotherAdso: Thanks for the kind words
. I find the Song/Mongol period in East Asian histroy highly interesting myself, which was one of my reasons to do this AAR, to attept to save the cultured Song Empire from its unfortunate RL fate. Wish me luck, I have a feeling I'm going to need it.
The new Song Emperor of China, Ningzong, was quick to press the issue of the War with the Jin, for the writing was on the wall as far as the Jin were concerned—their state was coming apart at the seams. Faced with implacable enemies to the north and the south, the Jin were casting about, buffeted by hostile currents, as their northern holdings were torn from them by the voracious Mongols while the steely-determined Song continued to move the Song-Jin border ever northward in a concerted attempt to bring the Yellow River back under Chinese dominance. Ningzong spent his first months in office busily repairing the damage left over from Guangzong’s misrule. There was also the matter of alliances, the wounded Tibetans were highly unlikely to join the Song again, while the sock-puppet rulers of Annam continued to slavishly follow Lhasa’s directives. China felt not the least sorrow for the backstabbing Tibetans, but would miss the 20,000+ armies the Vietnamese had routinely offered for Song service in previous wars. Ningzong did not have to look far for new allies, as the Koreans, seeing the inevitable doom of the Jin and remorseless advance of the Mongols, put two and two together and proposed alliance with the Song Empire, an offer Ningzong was happy to accept.
With a new alliance in place, the war against the Jin was rejoined early in 1197, the faltering Jin had little to offer in opposition to the combined power of a 2-pronged attack from China and her Korean allies and less than a year later admitted yet another defeat, surrendering Ningxia and Shandong to China while Koryo received Liaotung. Celebrations over this victory were to prove sadly short-lived; for in the distant north, the hooves of Mongol horses could be heard ranging about in search of prey. The Mongol nation had selected as its new ruler a highly skilled and utterly ruthless military tactician by the name of Temujin, who had led them into battle with the Jin in a war in which Jin forces were crushed beyond repair, the northern half of the Jin Empire falling into Mongol hands. The Tibetans, who had foolishly allied themselves to the Jin, were penalized by the loss of Qadim Pendi and some 230 ducats in tribute. Elsewhere, Temujin and his warriors briefly snacked upon the Altai, relieving them of a province and forcing them to become Mongol vassals.
By now, the Chinese Foreign Office was beginning to panic, sending out reports that the Mongols had a nearly unbeatable army and would soon invade China, hoping to turn the Celestial Empire into a glorified horse pasture. Worse still was the discovery by Chinese spies that the fearless Temujin had not yet subdued all his internal opponents inside Mongolia. While Song spies began funneling financial backing to dissident elements within the Mongol realm, analysts in Hangzhou feared to make a fresh assessment of Mongol strength should Temujin succeed in uniting the Mongol nation behind him. According to one aged Confucian, a unified Mongolia would enjoy nightmarish strength that would require the full mobilization of all of China’s vast resources for the Song to withhold the coming onslaught. For the next several years the Foreign Office furiously pursued the cause of Mongol dissidents, yet the internal strength of the dread Temujin merely continued to grow as one enemy after another either relented and joined Temujin’s party or were extirpated by Temujin’s fiercely loyal war bands. The rest of the capital lived in a state of denial; surely the heavy-handed warrior would overplay his hand and bring ruin upon himself. Or the dissident elements in Mongol society would win a great moral victory and turn the tide. Perhaps a stray arrow would end Temujin’s dreams on one of his many fields of battle. But heaven would never allow the Chinese people to face those horrid hordes of the steppeland, would it?
East Asia at the dawn of the Thirteenth Century