7th of January, 1805
The Christian world has entered the 19th century, though in the Slavic Calendar (which starts in 883 A.D.) it’s only the year 922. At the same time that the entire world grows increasingly centralized under a small number of global empires and industrialization picks up speed, making the great even greater, the political landscape seems to have come to a critical junction with the German Revolution of 1781-1783 and the rise of the ideologically radical Bundesrepublik. The very idea of a traditional monarchy has really come under fire for what feels like the first time, and the aristocrats in charge don’t know how to react. Perhaps even more problematic than the Bundesrepublik itself is this inability of the other powers to agree on a course of action: some like Poland and Italy see it as an enemy to be destroyed, while others – even though uneasy about its goals – are willing to compromise with the Bundesrepublik as long as it suits their own interests.
Not just that: following the First Revolutionary War and the addition of several new “states” to the Bundesrepublik, many of the illegal republics declared in the Italian Empire have refused to submit to the crown even after the Germans withdrew, and are now fighting a war of their own to do what the Germans couldn’t and topple the government in Rome altogether. The fact that the Bundesrepublik can plant such seeds of unrest makes it look even more infectious. One can only speculate whether the revolution succeeding in Italy as well would just lead to infighting between it and Germany anyway, or – the nightmare option – them actually joining forces against the surrounding monarchies.
In the end, the revolutionary armies are routed in early 1806, but not before occupying several major cities and considerably shaking up the imperial establishment. Italy enters an almost Amatica-esque period of uneasy friction with its own, still rebellious populace, and just like across the Atlantic, the situation doesn’t seem truly over.
There is shaking in Poland as well, for in February 1806, High King Aleksander II finally breathes his last. With some 60 years on the throne, he’s one of the longest-reigning rulers in Polish history – and though his passiveness during that time could maybe be blamed for some of Poland’s problems, he at least stepped back into the limelight for the last decade or so, paving the way for his (second) heir to inherit an actually rather stable country, even if that stability was in many places achieved by force. With the pressing need to educate him into a decent ruler as quickly as possible, Nadbor III has turned out rather… decent, indeed. Much like Aleksander II back in the day, he hasn’t had the time to hone his skills and contacts in a lesser post, but the nobility in particular has high hopes that he will inspire the nation to stand against the Bundesrepublik and Revolutionary lies, at least in defense if not offense.
The Bundesrepublik, for that matter, ends up making a white peace in its strange colonial war against Betsimisaraka and Japan. However large its citizen army, Germany was never really a major naval power and can’t compete with Japan on the waves. Of course, that’s still a lot of time and resources down the drain.
Perhaps to distract from that failure, only a few months later, President Krzeslaw Adalbert and the parliament begin their second invasion of Italy. Even if Germany took some damage from its colonial adventure, Italy is faring much worse after both the previous war and the rebellions in between, and its allies don’t seem to be interested in sacrificing themselves either.
Though the Germans should have a large numerical advantage, organizational issues and inconvenient geography once again give the war a sputtering start. The most fought over area seems to be the Occitan coast, which is a natural consequence of the German corridor to the Mediterranean being of vital importance for both sides.
As usual, every German setback big or small makes Poland feel tempted to just rush into Braunschweig, which it surely could achieve, as the capital of the Bundesrepublik is only some 60 miles from the closest point of the Polish border. But foreign relations continue to make that either impossible, or certainly not worth it even if achieved.
The young Nadbor III decides to focus on that diplomatic front instead. By maintaining constant, always positive relations with the other pagan nations, and more softly and gradually convincing them of the monarchies’ need to stand together against the Revolutionary menace, he hopes to eventually swing the balance in Poland’s favor and acquire an opening to invade.
It doesn’t hurt that these wars between Germany and Italy, two of the most industrialized powers in the world, are persuading (or forcing) other countries to rely more and more on Poland for goods and investment.
And so it happens that, apparently having been much better prepared this time around, after almost six years of grueling back-and-forth fighting concentrated in the Alps, Occitania and France – often resembling civil war, as local partisans fought against either or even both sides – Italy actually
wins what could well be considered a defensive victory. The territories it reclaims from Germany in the peace treaty of April 1812 are comparatively minor, but just having stopped the great Revolutionary machine (its now second humiliation in a row) is a great triumph in itself, immediately turning the public perception of the Bundesrepublik from a “rolling onslaught” to a “mess of mob rule tripping over its own feet”.
Both countries have been economically and physically bled dry. Nadbor III chooses this moment for another diplomatic offensive, aimed at Chernigov in particular, but as persistent and persuasive as his arguments of Polish superiority against German “decadence” might be, in retrospect they were bound to fail: the idea of the Bundesrepublik being unable to protect itself only makes it more, not less, important for others to maintain the balance of power. Truly, it is hard to see what sort of argument, short of Germany posing a direct threat to Chernigov, could change that – and with Poland located in between them, that seems rather unlikely.
(Even that effective +5 shift in diplomatic reputation didn't do the trick...)
Alas, mere months later, Chernigov fires the first shots of the Second Eurasian War: another continental invasion of Rajasthan and Karnata, in which it requests Polish aid. The same cold logic that led to that previous exchange takes this one in an unexpected direction: the Bundesrepublik turning out weaker than expected (?) and the threat of an invasion of Poland seeming remote at best means that Chernigov also isn’t such a critical ally after all, so Nadbor III “politely” refuses the call to arms. At this point, it’s no secret that he might actually be hoping for Chernigov to shoot itself in the foot, get bogged up in a bloody war and leave Germany defenseless.
A while later, Germany actually joins that war, apparently not remembering how it went last time. Other great powers also start piling on Rajasthan, as Asturias – which has conquered itself a nice foothold in Indochina in the confusion of the last couple decades – joins the attack from the opposite direction.
(Also pictured: the rising star of the Shan Empire, formerly Hsipaw, which hasn’t gotten a lot of attention)
Even Scotland, which doesn’t actually have colonies east of Guinea, joins the dogpile. Nadbor III stands firm in his decision not to get involved in this whole mess. If Scotland wants to be safeguarded against England (which is also participating in the invasion, for the record), it’ll probably remake that alliance as soon as possible anyway.
Poland gets to keep itself busy in Frisia, where yet another faction has arisen in the struggle for power: one wanting to maintain the monarchy, but get it back into local hands. Of course, the armed rebellion is once again crushed with relative ease, but the royalist faction is added to the fractious ranks of Frisian underground politics. It would probably go a lot better if they struggled
together.
Among the great powers
not invading Rajasthan is Moldavia, which has been distracted growing its Mediterranean dominion. It succeeds in its war against Tripolitania and Kanem Bornu, annexing most of the former’s heartland and thus gaining a stronger and stronger grip on the strategically vital sea.
And so, though they are not in fact working together, most of Europe seems to have put aside its differences in favor of working on every great power’s common hobby: imperialism. As the years tick by, more and more of Rajasthan comes under (tenuous) occupation from one direction or another, while Poland and Nadbor III in particular mostly sit by, shake their heads and continue selling them the wares to do so.
In August 1818, Moldavia starts another land-grab of is own, once again against Arabia (and its Chinese allies). As little interest as Poland frankly has in this, Nadbor III can’t risk his frustration turning into total isolationism, having already lost Chernigov and Scotland as allies. Moldavia is Poland’s most powerful ally to begin with, so somewhat reluctantly, he promises his support for this one.
In the end, after so much effort (more from some than others), the Second Eurasian War comes to something of a whimpering end in 1819, as first Chernigov and Germany make a successful peace treaty – mostly taking some land in Central Asia and the Caucasus – and then the others, suddenly finding themselves under a lot more pressure, have to settle for white peaces, time wasted and nothing gained. Poland’s decision to stay out proves quite prudent once more.
Europe seems to be falling into something of an awkward but surely temporary lull, in a world full of ambiguous in-betweens. Amatica is in check but far from stable, the Bundesrepublik has proven strong but not undefeatable, Italy has stumbled but not fallen, Slavic cooperation is tenuous but holding, and the Polish population is quiet if not quite happy. Emerging technologies, still a strange concept to be quite honest, are starting to shake up both the military balance of power and people’s very way of life. While Poland might be the strongest great power, the others have caught up and found ways to restrict it nonetheless, a fact which the Poles are acutely aware of and highly uncomfortable with. Long gone are the days that simply being stronger than your worst enemy and able to beat them in the field of battle seemed to be enough: now it appears that you have to be stronger than your so-called friends as well. And while it might be that the sun never sets on the Kingdom of Poland, visions of a Pan-Paganist
Polska Uniwersalna look more and more like delusions, and the world might be entering a whole new, very different era of…
brr... alternatives.
Re: Paradox AAR - Saga of the Slavs
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