Persian Tales
The Rules
Well met, traveller!
It is a merry day indeed, is it not? A day for comradely travel through the mountains, I would have to say. You look like a lively bunch, you and your noble scruffy-looking entourage. Let me venture a guess as to your profession. Lacking soldiers of the King of Kings I see that you are no high official. While a dispossessed noble is always an outside possibility, and the haughteur you possess might seem to substantiate that claim, it is probably not the case. A merchant, perhaps? Slightly down on his luck in that case, I am afraid, given your unfortunate, if I may say so, lacking in the wagon department. However, due to your splendid, though scruffy, martial demeanor I guess you could be a dealer in high-quality low-encumbrance no-questions-asked goods, in which case I applaud your desire to travel in my company being, as I am, a first rate duellist, a dead shot, the world's third-greatest lover, and a teller of tall tales. Here is my business card.
A bandit, you say? No, surely not. Apart from a few misunderstandings in my past, I am as innocent as the next man. Such as that troll of a fellow, who is approaching my pack mule with a most unsavoury glint in his eye. I say! That is most uncivil! Would you please reign in your errant guard?
Ah, I see. You are bandits? Well, semantics were ever my bane. Nevertheless, let me assure you that I currently possess nothing of easily disposable value, being, unfortunately, between engagements. I am, in fact, making my way to the court of the King of Kings, where I expect to earn vast wealth urgently needed to repay a minor debt I owe due to the disastrous collapse of a small informal ecumenical venture in Samarkand.
My life? Yes, indeed I value my life highly, and I daresay I could easily dispose of you and your ragtag band of outlaws should it so strike my fancy. However, as I am feeling generous, I will let you escape with your lives.
Now why did you go and shoot my horse? She was a gentle mare and has served me well for many years. This is hardly a fitting ending. Now, I have tried treating you nicely, but you are really straining my patience. You, sir, are no gentleman! Nevertheless, being magnanimous, I will forgive you should you make good my loss.
You reject compensation? Ha! I laugh in your face! See how I masterfully shoot your third goon from the left with a single shot of my trusty pistol. Am I not an excellent shot?
Really, that is uncalled for. My horse was worth much than that unwashed lout. I would have to shoot at least two more goons, like so, and so, for us to be quits.
Now, now. No reason to get nasty. You have still got seven scruffy fellows left, which is surely enough to enable you to prey on unwary travellers. Your greed is most unbecoming, and it reminds me of the tale of the man who loved gold.
Ah, a breakthrough! You love gold as well? Fancy that. Now, as it seems that night is upon us, let us make a camp fire by yonder cliff and gather round for an evening repast. I presume you have some chunks of meat, a few vegetables, some spices, and a bottle of Chablis Chardonnay that you are willing to share?
No? You are low on spirits? No wonder you look so scruffy! I will have to make do with this Avignon, then. Now, lay down your weapons and gather round the fire, for without any further ado, let me tell you...
The tale of the man who loved gold (1419-1435)
Hear my tale!
Once upon a time, in the small principality of Ak Koyunlu, lived a man who loved gold. His name was Qara Yülük `Uthman, and he ruled his principality with an firm hand. A devout believer, he nevertheless tolerated the Christians in Armenia and made alliance with the Greeks of Trebizond, preferring to win friends by the word rather than by the sword. In all the world none loved gold as well as he, neither faithful nor infidel.
Now, it came to pass that he grew to an exceedingly advanced age, but that alone does not guarantee the favour of the highest (insh'Allah!), and looking back on his life, he saw in the wisdom of old age, that while some of his deeds had indeed been to the glory of Allah and his Prophet, more bore the indelicate stamp of personal greed (and Allah is all-knowing!)
Thus he laboured for many days with the question on how to improve his standing with Allah without expense, and he stopped eating and sleeping, and his complexion turned pale, and his hair fell out, but little did it avail him, and his realm suffered for his devastation. At long last he put the problem to his faithful wazir, and told him that he would be beheaded, should he not find a solution within the fortnight.
The wazir was an honest and pious man, who had served faithfully for two decades, but now he saw his doom approach, for knowing as he did intimately the character of his glorious ruler, what was asked was impossible for any man to achieve. Nevertheless he struggled with the problem for nigh unto a week, consulting wise men and fools, growing ever more despondent. One night, the wazir having sought solace from his chief wife, a modest and chaste woman, she asked him what was the cause of these woes. Perhaps one of the lesser wives needed to be disciplined?
As all men knows, strife between the wives should always be dealt with firmly by the husband, lest it damage the tranquility of the family, even should he only have a week left on life. Thus the wazir told his wife of the matter on hand and she consoled him, saying that she had a plan, would he but wait a bit.
Thus the wazir waited a day, and he waited another day, and he grew nervous, for the prince was often seen sharpening his sword and consulting the calendar, yet still his chief wife consoled him at night, telling him to wait a bit: Her plan was almost done and the prince would be satisfied.
And thus the days passed, and finally, on the last night, he begged her to reveal the plan. "Not so soon, my husband", was her reply, "all will be clear on the morrow". And in the morning she accompanied her husband the wazir to the prince, and the prince asked the wazir about the plan. Pleading, he looked towards his wife of a decade, saying, "she knows my plan". And the prince was sore puzzled, but asked her nevertheless what the wazir's plan was. "He has no plan", she said demurely, and straightforward the prince struck the wazir's head from the shoulders with one mighty swing of his trusted sword. "But I have one, oh prince of men and master of women", she said.
And thus it came to pass that the armies of Ak Koyunlu were sent forth against the neighbouring realm of Qara Koyunlu, for "it were rightfully ours", said the prince's new chief wife, and having punished them most severely, the armies of the faithful raided the lands under the Mameluke dynasty, raising the fearsome banner on the Mediterranean. And thus it came to pass that tax collectors were appointed throughout the land, for "only taxes can be counted in the long run". And thus it came to pass that the heirs of Timur Lenkh were devastated by the whirlwind. And throughout the remaining years of his life, and the prince lived to enjoy his new wife for one and a half decade, praise be to Allah the beneficient, he listened carefully to the words of his chief wife, who had exchanged the head of the wazir for the head of the prince, so to speak. And the prince grew rich in the service of the highest.
Mind well the poet's words:
"Rely not on women,
Trust not to their hearts,
Whose joys and whose sorrows
Are hung to their parts!
Lying love they will swear thee
Whence guile ne'er departs.
Take Yusuf for sample,
'Ware sleights and 'ware smarts!
Iblis ousted Adam
(See ye not?) thro' their arts."
Indeed, the moral of the story is clear, is it not? Greed does pay. Yes, yes, I am aware that your men would prefer a few more details on the divine female attributes of the wazir's wife, common louts that they are. In fact, that reminds me of a story...
But I grow tired. Let us rest until the morrow, and I will gladly tell you the story of "The woman who had a thousand men".
The Facts
Ak Koyunlu, 1435
* This was a very hard war. The fighting went back and forth in Iraq, Hamadan, Awazh, Tabaristan and Isfahan for two years before the main Timurid armies were broken. Due to their greatly increased manpower in the Far Eastern Manpower Mod, the Timurids were much more formidable than usual and kept reinforcing their armies and retaking their undefended provinces from occupation.
** Ouch. Suffered a major rebellion in Iraq (33K rebels - 1.5 times my entire army size). However, half of the army was in Alexandria, the other half in Persia. Since Hamadan still belonged to the Timurids, there was no road connection between these three disparate parts of Ak Koyunlu. Lacking military access, in order to prevent Iraq from seceding, I had to disband the Persian army and raise a new one in Azerbaijan, as I had to stay under the small 21K support limit in peacetime. With just a tiny bit of forethought I would have realised the reactions of the neighbouring nations once Ak Koyunlu only had 10K troops left, even if only for a minute or two. They invaded. The Alexandrine army was crushed within weeks, and troops were quickly raised in the hinterlands even as several parts of the principality came under attack. However, desperate counterattacks turned the tide just enough that the invaders were willing to settle for money. Still, those were some very, very tense months in 1434.
...To be continued...
The Rules
- The nation of choice is Ak Koyunlu
- EU2 1.05, AGC 2.3, Very Hard/Coward, with v0.9 of the Far Eastern Manpower mod (AGC2.3 default is v0.8)
- Recruiting of troops in peacetime is only allowed up to the supportable limit. After war armies will be demobilized to the support limit.
- Never enter BB wars
- No declarations of war without CB
- Attempt to become centralized
- Eschew many of my usual dp settings.
- Become Persia
- Tell a few tales
Well met, traveller!
It is a merry day indeed, is it not? A day for comradely travel through the mountains, I would have to say. You look like a lively bunch, you and your noble scruffy-looking entourage. Let me venture a guess as to your profession. Lacking soldiers of the King of Kings I see that you are no high official. While a dispossessed noble is always an outside possibility, and the haughteur you possess might seem to substantiate that claim, it is probably not the case. A merchant, perhaps? Slightly down on his luck in that case, I am afraid, given your unfortunate, if I may say so, lacking in the wagon department. However, due to your splendid, though scruffy, martial demeanor I guess you could be a dealer in high-quality low-encumbrance no-questions-asked goods, in which case I applaud your desire to travel in my company being, as I am, a first rate duellist, a dead shot, the world's third-greatest lover, and a teller of tall tales. Here is my business card.
A bandit, you say? No, surely not. Apart from a few misunderstandings in my past, I am as innocent as the next man. Such as that troll of a fellow, who is approaching my pack mule with a most unsavoury glint in his eye. I say! That is most uncivil! Would you please reign in your errant guard?
Ah, I see. You are bandits? Well, semantics were ever my bane. Nevertheless, let me assure you that I currently possess nothing of easily disposable value, being, unfortunately, between engagements. I am, in fact, making my way to the court of the King of Kings, where I expect to earn vast wealth urgently needed to repay a minor debt I owe due to the disastrous collapse of a small informal ecumenical venture in Samarkand.
My life? Yes, indeed I value my life highly, and I daresay I could easily dispose of you and your ragtag band of outlaws should it so strike my fancy. However, as I am feeling generous, I will let you escape with your lives.
Now why did you go and shoot my horse? She was a gentle mare and has served me well for many years. This is hardly a fitting ending. Now, I have tried treating you nicely, but you are really straining my patience. You, sir, are no gentleman! Nevertheless, being magnanimous, I will forgive you should you make good my loss.
You reject compensation? Ha! I laugh in your face! See how I masterfully shoot your third goon from the left with a single shot of my trusty pistol. Am I not an excellent shot?
Really, that is uncalled for. My horse was worth much than that unwashed lout. I would have to shoot at least two more goons, like so, and so, for us to be quits.
Now, now. No reason to get nasty. You have still got seven scruffy fellows left, which is surely enough to enable you to prey on unwary travellers. Your greed is most unbecoming, and it reminds me of the tale of the man who loved gold.
Ah, a breakthrough! You love gold as well? Fancy that. Now, as it seems that night is upon us, let us make a camp fire by yonder cliff and gather round for an evening repast. I presume you have some chunks of meat, a few vegetables, some spices, and a bottle of Chablis Chardonnay that you are willing to share?
No? You are low on spirits? No wonder you look so scruffy! I will have to make do with this Avignon, then. Now, lay down your weapons and gather round the fire, for without any further ado, let me tell you...
The tale of the man who loved gold (1419-1435)
Hear my tale!
Once upon a time, in the small principality of Ak Koyunlu, lived a man who loved gold. His name was Qara Yülük `Uthman, and he ruled his principality with an firm hand. A devout believer, he nevertheless tolerated the Christians in Armenia and made alliance with the Greeks of Trebizond, preferring to win friends by the word rather than by the sword. In all the world none loved gold as well as he, neither faithful nor infidel.
Now, it came to pass that he grew to an exceedingly advanced age, but that alone does not guarantee the favour of the highest (insh'Allah!), and looking back on his life, he saw in the wisdom of old age, that while some of his deeds had indeed been to the glory of Allah and his Prophet, more bore the indelicate stamp of personal greed (and Allah is all-knowing!)
Thus he laboured for many days with the question on how to improve his standing with Allah without expense, and he stopped eating and sleeping, and his complexion turned pale, and his hair fell out, but little did it avail him, and his realm suffered for his devastation. At long last he put the problem to his faithful wazir, and told him that he would be beheaded, should he not find a solution within the fortnight.
The wazir was an honest and pious man, who had served faithfully for two decades, but now he saw his doom approach, for knowing as he did intimately the character of his glorious ruler, what was asked was impossible for any man to achieve. Nevertheless he struggled with the problem for nigh unto a week, consulting wise men and fools, growing ever more despondent. One night, the wazir having sought solace from his chief wife, a modest and chaste woman, she asked him what was the cause of these woes. Perhaps one of the lesser wives needed to be disciplined?
As all men knows, strife between the wives should always be dealt with firmly by the husband, lest it damage the tranquility of the family, even should he only have a week left on life. Thus the wazir told his wife of the matter on hand and she consoled him, saying that she had a plan, would he but wait a bit.
Thus the wazir waited a day, and he waited another day, and he grew nervous, for the prince was often seen sharpening his sword and consulting the calendar, yet still his chief wife consoled him at night, telling him to wait a bit: Her plan was almost done and the prince would be satisfied.
And thus the days passed, and finally, on the last night, he begged her to reveal the plan. "Not so soon, my husband", was her reply, "all will be clear on the morrow". And in the morning she accompanied her husband the wazir to the prince, and the prince asked the wazir about the plan. Pleading, he looked towards his wife of a decade, saying, "she knows my plan". And the prince was sore puzzled, but asked her nevertheless what the wazir's plan was. "He has no plan", she said demurely, and straightforward the prince struck the wazir's head from the shoulders with one mighty swing of his trusted sword. "But I have one, oh prince of men and master of women", she said.
And thus it came to pass that the armies of Ak Koyunlu were sent forth against the neighbouring realm of Qara Koyunlu, for "it were rightfully ours", said the prince's new chief wife, and having punished them most severely, the armies of the faithful raided the lands under the Mameluke dynasty, raising the fearsome banner on the Mediterranean. And thus it came to pass that tax collectors were appointed throughout the land, for "only taxes can be counted in the long run". And thus it came to pass that the heirs of Timur Lenkh were devastated by the whirlwind. And throughout the remaining years of his life, and the prince lived to enjoy his new wife for one and a half decade, praise be to Allah the beneficient, he listened carefully to the words of his chief wife, who had exchanged the head of the wazir for the head of the prince, so to speak. And the prince grew rich in the service of the highest.
Mind well the poet's words:
"Rely not on women,
Trust not to their hearts,
Whose joys and whose sorrows
Are hung to their parts!
Lying love they will swear thee
Whence guile ne'er departs.
Take Yusuf for sample,
'Ware sleights and 'ware smarts!
Iblis ousted Adam
(See ye not?) thro' their arts."
Indeed, the moral of the story is clear, is it not? Greed does pay. Yes, yes, I am aware that your men would prefer a few more details on the divine female attributes of the wazir's wife, common louts that they are. In fact, that reminds me of a story...
But I grow tired. Let us rest until the morrow, and I will gladly tell you the story of "The woman who had a thousand men".
The Facts
Ak Koyunlu, 1435
Code:
[font=courier new][color=white][color=yellow]Domestic Policy 1419 1435[/color]
[color=skyblue]Aristocracy [/color] 9 9
[color=skyblue]Centralization [/color] 0 0
[color=skyblue]Innovativeness [/color] 2 2
[color=skyblue]Mercantilism [/color] 8 8
[color=skyblue]Offensive [/color] 6 9+3
[color=skyblue]Land [/color] 6 6
[color=skyblue]Quality [/color] 2 3+1
[color=skyblue]Serfdom [/color] 10 10
[color=yellow]Economy 1419 1435[/color]
[color=skyblue]Monthly income [/color] 6d 26d
[color=skyblue]Census taxes [/color] 11d 81d
[color=skyblue]Inflation [/color] 0% 8%
[color=skyblue]Badboy [/color] 0 12
[color=yellow]Tech 1419 1435[/color]
[color=skyblue]Land [/color] 1 1
[color=skyblue]Naval [/color] 0 1
[color=skyblue]Trade [/color] 0 1
[color=skyblue]Infrastructure [/color] 0 1
[color=yellow]Military 1419 1435[/color]
[color=skyblue]Army support limit [/color] 11K 23K
[color=skyblue]Navy support limit [/color] -- 11
[color=yellow]Memorable Events[/color]
[color=skyblue]1420 [/color]Plague in Kurdistan
[color=skyblue]1422 [/color]Unhappy Peasants revolt
[color=skyblue]1424 [/color]Birth of an Heir to the Crown!
[color=skyblue]1428 [/color]Qara Yülük `Uthman suffers from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
[color=skyblue]1429 [/color]Plague in Armenia
[color=skyblue]1433 [/color]A foreign drill instructor is hired, causing a state loan
[color=yellow]Wars Opponents Outcome[/color]
[color=skyblue]1420-1421, Qara Koyulu [/color]Gained Azerbaijan, Kirkuk, Iraq, 100d
[color=skyblue] -1424, Mamelukes [/color]Gained Alexandria, Delta, 100d
[color=skyblue]1427-1429, Kaliphate [/color]Gained 349d
[color=skyblue] -1430, Timurids [/color]Gained Awahz, Isfahan, Fars, Hormouz*
[color=skyblue]1434-1434, All neighbours [/color]The prince had to pay a lot of gold**
[/color][/font]
* This was a very hard war. The fighting went back and forth in Iraq, Hamadan, Awazh, Tabaristan and Isfahan for two years before the main Timurid armies were broken. Due to their greatly increased manpower in the Far Eastern Manpower Mod, the Timurids were much more formidable than usual and kept reinforcing their armies and retaking their undefended provinces from occupation.
** Ouch. Suffered a major rebellion in Iraq (33K rebels - 1.5 times my entire army size). However, half of the army was in Alexandria, the other half in Persia. Since Hamadan still belonged to the Timurids, there was no road connection between these three disparate parts of Ak Koyunlu. Lacking military access, in order to prevent Iraq from seceding, I had to disband the Persian army and raise a new one in Azerbaijan, as I had to stay under the small 21K support limit in peacetime. With just a tiny bit of forethought I would have realised the reactions of the neighbouring nations once Ak Koyunlu only had 10K troops left, even if only for a minute or two. They invaded. The Alexandrine army was crushed within weeks, and troops were quickly raised in the hinterlands even as several parts of the principality came under attack. However, desperate counterattacks turned the tide just enough that the invaders were willing to settle for money. Still, those were some very, very tense months in 1434.
...To be continued...
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