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We are so back edit: update in the previous page
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Aug 18, 2023 02:14
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Excited for our inevitable embrace of communism and equally inevitable horrendous luck and 8 successive humiliating defeats
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Aug 18, 2023 06:07
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Rody One Half posted:Excited for our inevitable embrace of communism and equally inevitable horrendous luck and 8 successive humiliating defeats Would love to do that, but only one form of government gets the cool-shades pyramid flag. Glory To Tibet! Glory To Laysa!
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Aug 18, 2023 13:38
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kw0134 posted:Presumably there's no Victoria to bestow her name on the era, so what would the historians of this world call this time of revolutions and trains?
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Aug 18, 2023 16:23
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I'm still a Lasya Loyalist. 
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Aug 18, 2023 20:36
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Yay, it's back! We've probably got a while before it matters, but if you toss the mod and your latest save into the Vic3 to HoI4 converter, how bad is the list of errors and warnings the converter gives? The earlier I can get to work on those, the better.
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Aug 18, 2023 21:48
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idhrendur posted:Yay, it's back! We've probably got a while before it matters, but if you toss the mod and your latest save into the Vic3 to HoI4 converter, how bad is the list of errors and warnings the converter gives? The earlier I can get to work on those, the better. https://forum.paradoxplaza.com/forum/threads/vic3-to-hoi4-converter-thread.1475076/ posted:It's very basic for now as you'll quick notice, most suited for people who already heavily customize their conversions (looking at you, Something Awful crowd)
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Aug 19, 2023 16:42
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Lmao incredible
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Aug 19, 2023 17:28
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Rody One Half posted:Excited for our inevitable embrace of communism and equally inevitable horrendous luck and 8 successive humiliating defeats It's gonna be a weird flavor of theocratic Bon communism. That or we'll go full fash.
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Aug 19, 2023 23:54
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Xelkelvos posted:theocratic Bon communism. Bonnunism.
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Aug 20, 2023 00:27
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Xelkelvos posted:It's gonna be a weird flavor of theocratic Bon communism. Look on the one hand, we would absolutely be The Baddies that crush all hope of a better world, resulting in yet another Paradox Megacampaign that ends in a sucktacular world 5 seconds away from Nuclear Armageddon. On the other hand, we get to have a flag that has a Pyramid that wears rad shades. SirPhoebos posted:
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Aug 20, 2023 00:46
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The wise woman bowed her head solemnly and spoke: "theres actually zero difference between good & bad things. you imbecile. you loving moron"
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idhrendur posted:Yay, it's back! We've probably got a while before it matters, but if you toss the mod and your latest save into the Vic3 to HoI4 converter, how bad is the list of errors and warnings the converter gives? The earlier I can get to work on those, the better. Sure, where can I send the link, and what would be most useful for the converter process? I have PMs.
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Aug 20, 2023 23:09
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Kangxi posted:Sure, where can I send the link, and what would be most useful for the converter process? I have PMs. You can PM me here or on the paradox forums. A link to your Vic3 mod and your latest save would be perfect.
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Aug 21, 2023 16:05
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Also, I'm very glad that was picked up on. I absolutely love the depth of creativity in the paradox LPs here.
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Aug 22, 2023 04:46
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idhrendur posted:You can PM me here or on the paradox forums. A link to your Vic3 mod and your latest save would be perfect. Thanks for the comments and feedback! Im excited to see where the converter goes and it looks like it can be a lot of help when I'm working on the conversion.
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Aug 23, 2023 13:15
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 Like I did back in EU4, I made a loading screen for TibetLP Vicky 3, also as a way to practice digital oils
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Aug 26, 2023 18:45
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Owns. I love it. Love the giant ground sloth especially. Added to the OP
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Aug 26, 2023 19:12
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Really happy that the giant sloths are still chilling in this world.
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Aug 27, 2023 02:55
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habeasdorkus posted:Really happy that the giant sloths are still chilling in this world. there's nothing chill about alpine expeditions.... ok there's one thing chill about alpine expeditions
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Aug 27, 2023 03:42
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Minor update: the mod and save game are at least partially compatible with the 1.4 update, I'll need to do some tinkering and look over the error logs but it looks like we are still in business.  
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Aug 29, 2023 00:47
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Chapter 88: 1840 to 1845 - Escalation Sonam Rinzin was a Tibetan former clergyman, writer, diplomat, and a prominent statesman. He had served as a minister of state to the Republic of Delhi, the Sacred Hierarchy, and to various administrations in Nanjing. Rinzin's life continues to polarize scholarly opinion: he lent his support to both the National Alliance of May 1756 and the conservatives of the Red Mountain Party, and contemporary reports either regard him as a skilled and observant public servant, or an unscrupulous and amoral office-holder. His memoirs, left uncompleted and published 60 years after his death in 18XX, provide a unique perspective on foreign affairs and elite politics in the mid-19th century.  In the first months of 1840, I had just concluded my tenure at the court of the monastic councils of the Sacred Hierarchy. I was reluctant to leave, as I had agreed with the temperate climate, the relatively quiet and slow pace of life, and thriving in the social environment that so often is observed in monasteries. Yet for all the revelry my time at Indrapura involved, of the art of comfortable living with the trizins [Editors Note: heads of monasteries], I could at least feel the satisfaction of a job well done, and to note the continual improvement of ties between the monastic authorities, which could continue long after I departed. This came to an end when I was informed by official correspondence that my next assignment would be to Nanjing.  I, along with many of the readers of this volume, was fascinated by or at least concerned with the actions of our neighbor republic; my stay was brief and I can only admit to a superficial understanding of events. Likewise, I can only partially respond to any interest in the government of Wu. Its large and growing population, its extensive connections with trade, and its military might made Wu a target of fear and envy, or at least a tool to be used to support arguments for one faction or another. Likewise, suspicions of Wu grew along with its capabilities. In short, if Wu twitches, then the continent shakes like a frightened dog. But my immediate reaction to the news was at first relief. I did not want to risk meeting with disasters on a journey back to the plateau - the risk of landslide or robbery was always on my mind. I remembered bitterly the time I was nearly stabbed east of Gangtok. But then, I realized with growing tension that I would be sent to Wu, weeks away from any contact with Lhasa, on a dangerous voyage over the sea routes, and at the focal point at one of the most consequential relationships, perhaps the most important, that existed in the world today. I packed my belongings and was ready to depart in the span of two weeks.  On the long sea trip from Mumbai to Nanjing by way of Kolkata and Singapura, I wrote and rewrote missives on the state of affairs, caught up on my correspondence, now months old, which had come from Lhasa. Stories of new farms had been set up, with swamps drained and forests felled; the government had returned to the old policy of supporting manors and monasteries in agricultural production.  Still, manufactories were supported by private backers; and in their own self-interest they had challenged traditional authority, even indirectly, the simple fact that the 'new rich' grew richer was enough to sow suspicion among the old authorities and old names - that is, whichever ones of them had survived the foundation of a republic.  But that is not to say that the situation of events was exactly as it once was. Among my letters, I could cite another landowner who raved about the profits of her coal mine, another who would quietly invest in iron for manufactures, another who found ample sulfur for matches. New goods and stores were always being found, new sources of wealth revealed themselves. The long ocean voyage allows the mind to wander; the journey allows anticipation to build up before arrival.  Nanjing is a city of mad energy, a new 'southern capital' which had in in its time eclipsed its neighbor Hangzhou. I recalled ancient walls dating from before the First Han Dynasty sitting alongside new railway sheds and iron-flanked bei. For the patrons of the good life, I recall nothing as fondly as a night spent with friends along the Qinhuai River in the riverboats. It was a city suffused with civilization, art, and learning. Though, in my official capacity as ambassador, I was invited to the formal tea houses to which I was obligated, and to tour the steel factories - to see the glowing red steel, white-hot steel, gouts of molten steel like glowing flowers. The smell of furnaces, the clanking of steel hammers like a gamelan ensemble was the hidden power of the city, the hidden fang or the concealed dagger.  In court and in those centers closer to power, I was coldly recieved. I did what I could: speak little, listen often, make myself unobtrusive and start with modest proposals before moving to larger ones. I played up my differences to appear more naive than I was - deploying the array of stories about nomads setting up in the parks, or the pilgrims wearing old yak hide, with wooden planks tied to their palms, raising their hands then bowing and reciting mantras as they go. Such stories which are mildly amusing and expected for Tibetan readers are well-suited to dazzle the Nanjing audience which has a love of novelty. There was always stiff competition - I was at times upstaged by the Chachapoya minister who had somehow smuggled an entire giant sloth on the trans-oceanic voyage.  While the Red Mountain Party was further established, certain figures within the party coalition felt that their position was still not entirely secure - they worried about society falling into further disorder - of the falling of the republic into chaos. With this in mind, a battery of laws limiting assembly and the press was introduced, to curtail conspiracies and to prevent the spread of conspiratorial societies.  There was a persistent fear of a 'second revolution', at least circulating among the drawing rooms of the aristocrats and meeting rooms of the monastic councils. Poverty was endemic and bread riots, or riots among unhappy workers were not unheard of. Poverty is not, in and of itself, a direct cause of revolution - else we would see many more revolutions - but it is the kindling for the fire. Additionally, the Tibetans felt more covetous of their own privileges and defensive of their own place in society, and the presence of a wealthy businessman or head of an industrial corporation from further south was enough to offend their delicate sensibilities.  Those invisible and shifting things called ideas and legal rights were viewed in certain circles as more dangerous than gunpowder. Yet even with the want to limit these ideas, the ideas of the republic - of the revolution of 1756 - still took root. A woman of the lowest caste still had a basic floor of rights, and the very wealthiest Tibetan who claimed to be a Purgyal may still be called a rake in the newspapers. And the latter was still too offensive for some. The prospect of having an affair exposed, a foolish statement republished, or the barest threads of accountability - which can be aruged are a necessity for a functioning bureaucracy and to prevent 'conspiracy' in government.  But the Red Mountain Party had a stiff majority, and that is what they wanted. Support for the bill only grew. Bhimsen Sob, an old officer of the armed forces, spoke passionately about the need to protect society from dangerous ideas, from curtailing the spread of rumor and untruth. Those actions which were often spoken of in terms of stability are too often justified by fear.  The press, after all, is often seen as an impediment to the goals of the state, either in the exposure of delicate negotiations, or in the spread of 'dangerous' ideas, or acting in the interests of 'secret societies'. An aide to the Sikyong, who I shall keep anonymous, had informed me that the spread of such thinking had become endemic among the Sikyong's inner circle. I feel no wrath towards the electorate, and in foreign affairs I have only done my duty.  The law was passed to some scattered protest, and then to silence. That was, I assume, the intended effect. Little else changed, at least from my vantage in Nanjing and the court chatter I received from my friends.  Visitors from distant lands, republics especially, came around to set up arrangements and make trades.  Some Estonians had come round to Lhasa and even to Nanjing. They were strange outfits, which clashed with so much body hair, but they were eager and learned quickly - my own staff could barely speak anything beyond 'm meq kue-shi' (嘸沒關係) 'it is all right' and 'peq shiao-de' (不晓得), 'I don't know' after a few months. But, news travelled slowly for me, almost as slowly as it would have for them, even further abroad.  But, as I read the results from afar, the election demonstrated the continued dominance of the Red Mountain Party, due to the fragmentation of the opposition into a loosely organized farmers' party, and the once-mighty National Alliance of May 1756 reduced to one vote in twenty.  Further emboldened by this success, the ruling coalition advanced more sweeping reforms. Chief among this was the formal privileging of specific Bön traditions, and the legal recognition of monastic orders as a basis for public morality. Though not to be marked by any explicit persecution, this was still enough to set some friends of mine on edge; the old later empire's and new republic's traditions of pluralism were set on edge.  I thought, as I often did, of railways around Nanjing and Hangzhou - of great machines moved by containing hot steam, so as society was made by the containment and regimenting of human beings, from the ancient dynasties and their laws up to the present.  To escape, I went to a theatre in the Tibetan quarter and found a new play rather loosely based on the history of Gyalyum the Benevolent. The actress spoke a modern language and wore a modern uniform with the ancient style of face paint, as if the distant past was imposed over the present. Every generation has its own Gyalyum the Benevolent. When I was a child, I heard the stories of the young Gyalyum the Benevolent learning to read and write at candlelight, and this was a model for inquisitive minds and the love of new knowledge. This Gyalyum the Benevolent is not only the founder of the Sacred Hierarchy, but the uniter of 'all the barley-eaters' of Tibet, from Amdo to Ü-Tsang and Kham.  The bill was soon passed without organized opposition and with modest fanfare. The effects were minimal to myself, unusually, as I had spent nearly all my life outside of the Republic proper, and I only fielded some rather direct questions from more curious observers.  I had heard, of course, vague rumors of armies being deployed to the distant northwest, and I dutifully passed these along to Lhasa, but in the weeks it took for them to arrive, it was far too late. I read, as everyone else did in the newspapers and broadsheets the 'peaceful unification of Wu and Da Xi', in the far northwest.  Da Xi, or Great Xi, was one of the least important of the states that had emerged in the New Warring States period after the collapse of the Jin; its leaders were petty tyrants, the peasants lived in a state of dire immisseration, and the government clung to those areas along the Yellow River that had the most tolerable prospects for agriculture.  As near as I could tell from a distance, the Tibetan Republic's immediate response was to gather her allies closer in a series of formal agreements; clearly the rapid expansion of Wu, first to Jiangxi and then to the Hetao, was a cause for immediate concern. I was relieved to see personally that the Sacred Hierarchy was foremost among these.  And yet the newspapers and pamphlets from home spoke more candidly of a Tibetan nation forged in the distant past. This nation conjured up out of the distant plateau as if it had come in from the fog or washed ashore from the Yarlung Tsangpo. These pamphlets were written by university students or the wealthier sons of nobles or the more comfortable working men. These were comfortable genteel people, who sat in their cushioned chairs and dreamed of swordplay in the days of Gyalyum the Benevolent. One suspects the idea of the nation, far from an idea of togetherness and untempered by other practices, can thus become violent - a demonstration of the same act that haunts the earlier stages of history, of these people seeking their own discomfort as a kind of emotional tempering, wandering over to ancient altars, to hoist the snow lion flag and to slit throats.  To clear my head, I spent some weeks heading to the border, to see the distant rivers and sit silently among the mountains. I had no ability to set forth or affect the course of events, only to observe them unfold at a frightful speed; only to see before me the annihilation of space and time.  I had made it over to the city of Yichang, where the first commercial railroad or 'fire chariot' had been established in the Tibetan Republic - I bought my ticket and sat in a wooden carriage. The old journey to Shiyan or Xiangyang would take days, now it could be measured in hours - 80 li an hour, sometimes even faster. The speed was so much I felt nauseous, disoriented. The world was a small place now.  When I returned, I had found that the old world was disintegrating further. The newspapers had proclaimed the end of Jin - the last remnant of the kingdom established by the Tibetan invasion of China in the 1370s, and, in one of those ironies of history, the last place on earth where a Purgyal, that ancient Tibetan royal family, ruled anywhere. It had fallen without a serious fight, the soldiers moving in columns through the streets with only small crowds watching, Wu bureaucrats moving into offices in Beijing, Baoding, and Jinan as if they were only assigned there.  I had by chance the opportunity to meet the last Purgyal emperor. He was a proud man who kept his head held high. He insisted on showing me those relics he had been allowed to keep - rusted knives and headdresses with drooping motheaten feathers. I suspect I was only granted an interview because I was a representative of Tibet and he felt an abiding homesickness or at least curiosity towards the country of his distant relatives. I, a representative of a republic, would at least serve as a way to remind him of past glories, or in the way that especially old or wealthy men try to talk to their servants to try to relate to them. We walked together, in a circle, in his small and cozy garden, and we spoke amiably about my time abroad, and my life in Lhasa as a student. He was clearly exhausted after a long day of social events and his capacity for self-control was waning, but for some hours we had enjoyed a rapid and informative discussion. Our conversation had turned to the rapid changes of the world - I told him about the train ride in Hubei, for example - and he demurred, saying some things should be left as they were. It was at this point we had turned a corner, and found a beggar who had climbed the wall, and was picking through the waste from the kitchens to eat the scraps and chew on the bones. The servants were chasing him off. "The world could stand to change a little faster," said I, in a lapse of judgment. He gripped my arm with his ice-cold fingers, and whispered in my ear with a voice like the hiss of steam: "Why do you taunt me? I have my sacred duty as a sovereign emperor - I have to save it all from ruin... I am the only one! I am the last one who..." Then he said nothing, as if he had forgotten where he was; he had just stared blankly ahead for a while, like a toy that the gods had set aside and would play with no more. That is royalty. I never saw him again; he was dead of consumption within the year. The possessions and the money went to his son, an inveterate gambler, and the house was bought at a reasonable price by a railway owner.  But to return to my previous point - the Republic of Wu was no more. It would be the first among equals in the new Huabei Federation 華北邦聯 - Huabei meaning North China.  Qi Shanlan, elected head of state, now oversaw the most populous country on earth, with the greatest quantity of goods produced in its borders, with the worlds largest army (and four of the world's five best cuisines).  In an audience with her conducted shortly after my return, she had continued to emphasize the same points - ensuring the relative prosperity of the people and of maintaining the order and peace of the republic. These were consistent from earlier in her career, or at least in saying so to me.  ... There will no doubt be much curiosity about the early meetings with her. Let me summarize: she did not appear to me as the demonic figure that was conjured up by the press. She was stern, she spoke to me coldly, assuredly, but not with open disrespect. In appearance, she was of the people - she could swap places with the store owner who you would haggle with for hours. She was well-read on the affairs of state and preferred to speak from a position of strength and refused to be talked down to. You could tell where she was fairly easily, from her large retinue. In her offices, there were many spitoons. She was fond of spitting her betel nut juice, even in the middle of meetings. It tinted her teeth red like blood.  "There are certainly people who grow complacent, eating foreign spices," she said, wagging her finger, "and think to tell the Chinese peoples what we can and cannot do. The Book of Rites tells us about the datong, the 'Great Unity', of a perfect society of elected leaders and virtuous citizens, and that is what I shall strive for. This era of disorder must end for good," and there was no mistaking her intentions.  We made no headway in discussing further issues - conversation retreated to the abstract, or the broader view - the need to keep society stable and calm, she said, of preventing the republic from falling into disorder -  and of stamping out poverty and lawlessness among the newly united republic through careful stewardship. This would involve meeting with the local elites, working with whoever she could find, and the process of building up the state. Easier said that done, of course, as there was a process of society being complex already - the result of a growing population tending to the same area of arable land, trying to wrong more blood from a stone. All of these matters sounded very familiar, I thought, and I hoped to pass along my perspectives on her concerns to her counterparts, perhaps as a basis for trade or further negotiations. The continuing decay of relations between the Huabei Federation and Tibet must be taken in this context. It is, no doubt, the remark about unification which led to Tibetan panic.  Every so often, as this was a relatively 'peaceful' era between the great powers, this meant that they were largely free to divide up the territory of the smaller powers when it was amenable. So Egypt would advance against the towns along the coast of the Persian Gulf.  The campaign was concluded in a few months, and the Kingdom of Egypt had gained some ports, pearl diving resources, and fishing spots, as well as a useful stop for any trading posts further east.  But this is not that story, of a bigger state taking over a smaller one like a dessert vanishes at a table. We are talking about a contention between two great powers - in this case, from my understanding, a series of misperceptions, misjudgments - like a modern percussion cap, when struck by a hammer, explodes. If the outward goal of a group of states is only peace, then we are all at the mercies of the most ruthless state. If the goal of states is competition for over a specific region, then perhaps states may avoid a direct conflict. If one state wishes to supplant another, then suspicion pervades. For Wu, then the Huabei federation, their goals depended on advancement with impunity, for Tibet, on enforcing the limitations of that power.  It was to my own disagreement, but not to my surprise, that I was instructed to deliver the news that the Tibetan Republic had - to avoid the use of excessive legal terminology - demanded the ownership of land that Wu owned. The response from the Nanjing government was at first disblief. 'Surely they would not do something that foolish -' then 'of course they would-' then 'but what are they planning?' Frankly, I do not understand it myself. The region that we now refer to as Ningxia is a poor and desertified region, with only a tiny population of Tibetans, where much of its value comes as a stop on the trade route, which would be shuttered if the two went to war. The nearest claim I can suppose is that the Empire may have owned it once; or that it was supposed to have been a way to insult or humiliate the new Huabei Federation.  I was then asked to transmit further demands to make Wu retreat, out of a supposed fear of Tibet's strength; this I saw directly, was a mistake as they had only emboldened the Huabei court further. Yet the Huabei federation was not interested in the rapproachment or a new reorganization of the old order- the project of national reunification necessarily involved the complete destruction of the old order.  All around I heard the chants and drums of war- the scent of gunpowder - the waving of banners with wrathful dieties. I was sent the lyrics of what had become an unofficial 'national song' - they frankly could have used another round of revision, but the tune was enchanting, and I found myself humming it as I went about my work. History is that which the state, through its historians or through its laws, demands it to be.  The buildup of arms was rapid, and even ruthless - I had to my own astonishment noticed that crates of arms with Tibetan markings were carried through the streets and new rifles were distributed rapidly. I could not imagine how they had been stolen or smuggled overland. This news did appear in my letters back to Lhasa, but it was by then far too late.  In the months before the war, there was the usual haggling over allies, with cajoling or threatening being the order of the day.  I had by coincidence observed the Ethiopian ambassador leave a meeting with an outraged look on his face - the desperation of the Huabei protocol officer chasing after him, asking for him to reconsider, was enough to tell me how that meeting had gone.  My delight was then snuffed out be the fact that Anatolia - the world power, the center of learning and science - had thrown in its lot unequivocally with the Huabei federation. My presence was demanded for that meeting, of course, just so the government in Lhasa would receive the message without any interruption. I took the message, smiled, and did not let my frustration show in front of them.  I knew nothing substantial about the president of anatolia, Aramais Melik-Aghamalian, save for the fact that he was the colonial governor of the Kru state for several years. I could only speculate as to his reasoning. The declaration and public statements clearly made reference to the ancient alliance between the two republics, and the humiliation of the Tibetan Republic in the 1770s.  The result, for the Tibetan Republic and therefore myself, was one of the worst possible scenarios. While the heads of the republic could and did convince themselves that they could defeat any one of their neighbors in a military campaign, facing two or more great powers at once was much more difficult. It was a diplomatic nightmare.  The prospect of further isolation loomed, and with it military catastrophe.  The other states had made loud declarations of neutrality. While I imagined some mercantile houses from these third parties may continue to arrange for cross-border trade as the opportunities arose, the overall effect was of passerby getting out of the way when two elephants fight.  In 1843, then, it was war. Nanjing was full of cheer, with crowds waving banners, ceremonies held, effigies burned. I made sure to stay inside that day and close the shutters. The first news I had heard of the war, aside from rumors and wild speculation in the papers, is that a Tibetan army would attack along the north, along the Yellow River. The army would be led by a Purgyal, a distant or impossibly distant relation of that ancient line. I knew this man, at least briefly - in my capacity as a diplomat, I shall explain his character to the best of my ability.  Lobsang Purgyal was an idiot who had no right to take charge of anything. His only asset was his name, and that is not enough in the face of advancing ranks of infantry, of clouds of smoke from the guns, or in figuring out how to administer an army.  The Huabei Federation, though its considerable abilities at conscription and logistics, was able to mobilize more troops under arms and move them more quickly.  The effect, therefore, was to overwhelm the Tibetan army across multiple points, leading to a disastrous retreat.  In a matter of months, the Huabei troops had advanced along the Yangzi River through almost all of Hubei and had soon reached the edge of the province of Sichuan.  Even with the Tibetan army reinforced by the armies of the Yi Republic and the Sacred Hierarchy, they were still outnumbered and forced to make a further retreat.  After this, the Tibetans and our allies made a push along the northern end of the front at considerable expense, pushing back the Huabei lines, but not quite reaching Lanzhou or Tianshui.  The south would be the fulcrum for the line of defense. Chatterjee's army would then maneuver at Sichuan, near Mianyang, near the western edge of the Sichuan basin and at the very eastern edge of the plateau. From there would be the thinly defended passes and access to the plateau itself.  However, the advance was such that only a smaller portion of the Huabei army was charging into the Tibetan defenses.  Now at the time of this writing, I have the advantage in retrospect of noting how precarious the situation had become. The massive expenditures in supplying the Tibetan army had immediately far outpaced its incomes, and would continue to fall further after I had heard of it - the loss of Hubei and part of Sichuan was grievous, and suppliers of uniforms and armaments gleefully charged higher prices knowing the Republic could not refuse these, and no substitutes could be found. In a few short years, the Republic would face a default on its debts. The defensive armies needed a miracle.  Yet - the defenders of Sichuan held. Once again, with the plateau at their backs, Tibetan armies have held fast and conducted a spirited defense. The stories of General Chatterjee's conduct were many, and she had become a hero. It was a victory where there were seldom victories. I have no doubt at all in my mind that Chatterjee would play a major role in the future offensives but also the future of her party,  were it not for her sudden death from a stray bullet that struck her from her horse. The Tibetan newspapers which I consulted after the war said this was the deed of a sharpshooter, but on the Wu side, several witnesses of the battle have insisted that a Tibetan rifleman's weapon had misfired.  Now that the war had grown more entrenched, outside powers at least made their attempts to further meddle in the region - Ethiopia, which already had several trading posts in the region, had attempted to coerce the state of Yue into a more humiliating arrangement, but these attempts had failed.  When stories came to me of the next electoral campaigns, when the usual letters were passed along and funds raised, I would learn that the Red Mountain Party was still in a powerful position, as it still positioned itself as shepherding Tibet through a war, but that support had started to slip.  At this time, I was also informed that other republics planned on forming defensive agreements with Lhasa. Alliances are most at risk when their goals change - here, the desired outcome was at least broadly in agreemet - the defeat of the Huabei Federation, or at least guarantees of military security against it.  The front then ground down into a stalemate, with both sides claiming a tactical retreat after a victory - which of course means a defeat.  The Red Mountain party would continue to maintain its electoral dominance. The rural interests had organized into a 'Mountains and Rivers' party, and the National Alliance of May 1756 still held on to the stragglers and a fraction of the vote in the cities, with Mr. Singh still retaining the office of Sikyong.  The Tibetan Republic was troubled, but at least we appeared far from the point of civil war, or aristocratic bickering. One recalls the vicious infighting of the earliest days of the Tibetan Empire - like academics fights or poets squabbles, the contest was so vicious and the stakes were so small.  Yet, at any attempt at advancement was met by entrenched forces and harsh terrain; another attack in Ningxia had been brought to a sudden halt.  By the spring of 1845, the war had settled down into a long stalemate, mostly on Tibetan soil, and there it seemed it would stay for the near future. All I could do is sit and wait. 
Kangxi fucked around with this message at 03:08 on Sep 18, 2023 |
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Sep 18, 2023 02:54
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lmao rip, time to supplicate to the rising power of the east I guess
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Sep 18, 2023 03:43
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I'm just trying to imagine what quasi-napoleonic warfare looks like with the front stretching from the highlands of the plateau to the jungles of the Sichuan basin. Some of our troops will be camping in -30 degree Celsius over the winter, unable to use artillery without bringing the mountain down on their heads and others will be wading through the monsoon mud, hunting local pandas for meat for the pots. Out of interest, where are our barracks based - are we primarily recruiting from our Bengal subjects? Clearly, we need more trains, to ensure our boys front lines can be fully supplied.
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Sep 18, 2023 04:33
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Are we trying to get our asses kicked?
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Sep 18, 2023 15:35
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Tibet's rear end has been kicked so there's no trying here. The real question is how much of Tibet gets eaten in the process.
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Sep 18, 2023 16:15
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Feels like we might be in the precipitous fall from top dog to middle tier power due to the sheer weight of population, geography, and resources. But maybe Tibet will weather the storm?
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Sep 18, 2023 18:44
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yeah having/letting Wu consolidate china through (i assume) the german type JE unification stuff while backsliding into a more repressive autocracy was not one of the Red Mountain Party's better geopolitical strategies
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Sep 18, 2023 19:18
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I guess we need to get the modernists to build us trains and we'll be back in business. 
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Sep 18, 2023 19:31
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habeasdorkus posted:Are we trying to get our asses kicked? Can't usher in communism unless the idiot aristos at the top don't gently caress up incredibly and often.
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Sep 18, 2023 21:12
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Well, we're full bore on starting the slide into reaction and utter ineptness. Well ahead of schedule, too!
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Sep 18, 2023 22:35
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Josef bugman posted:Can't usher in the kicken-rad pyramid flag unless the idiot aristos at the top don't gently caress up incredibly and often.
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Sep 18, 2023 22:44
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habeasdorkus posted:Are we trying to get our asses kicked? Part if it was from Wu reunification firing early, which I didn't anticipate, part of it was from my own mistakes (I genuinely forgot to mobilize the entire army and I missed some guys until a bit too late) and/or roleplaying the Red Mountain being very aggressive. It may not be trying so much as my own mistakes. Yuiiut posted:I'm just trying to imagine what quasi-napoleonic warfare looks like with the front stretching from the highlands of the plateau to the jungles of the Sichuan basin. Some of our troops will be camping in -30 degree Celsius over the winter, unable to use artillery without bringing the mountain down on their heads and others will be wading through the monsoon mud, hunting local pandas for meat for the pots. I did briefly look up the Anglo-Burmese Wars or the First Opium War for a reference for the previous war for Tibet but that's hardly a fair fight; I kinda have to handwave many things about logistics in this story ever since Gyalyum the Benevolent fought a battle near the Qaidam Basin in the 9th century. Our barracks are spread all over - some on the plateau itself, but many are from the Bengais, Avadhis, Biharis, and Sichuanese.
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Sep 18, 2023 22:57
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I just assume there's at least a shitton more carved paths and probably some groups that have made their living as porters for centuries
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Sep 18, 2023 23:33
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Yeah a state with the ability to build a pyramid on top of the world must have solved the infrastructure/transport problem, somehow.
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Sep 21, 2023 04:13
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We've never mentioned it but i'm going with "man made canal system with really painful amount of locks "
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Sep 21, 2023 04:17
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we are tremendously hosed if we start deathspiralling and it kinda seems like we might start deathspiralling
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Sep 21, 2023 23:57
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shades of blue posted:we are tremendously hosed if we start deathspiralling and it kinda seems like we might start deathspiralling The V3 diplomacy AI is extremely chaotic and we could just as easily see our two sister republics supporting us fervently as anything else, so that's not a super big deal. And while censorship is low-tier inside of its category, its not really that bad. Going back to State Religion, especially with our borders, is horrible. And we're super early for slingshotting our way out of it with a socialist revolution. So IDK if the situation is unrecoverable, but its sure as gently caress not good. That said, V3 is the paradox game I definitely know the best and the one indicator I've seen here of like, 'how bad is it' is the radicals chart, and frankly? Pretty loving good. My playtime is mostly Ottomans, Persia, and Sokoto, and in 1845 its fairly typical for me to have >100 radicals per loyalist, while Tibet's is like 2:1, no big deal at all. So this is just me talking strategy for the people who are less familiar with vicky 3: 1845 is still pretty early game and the early game priorities if you're in a weak position are to 1) seize land from weak neighbors, either conquest or vassalize, and 2) start levering power away from the landowner faction. 2 is difficult and often you only make a few steps, but whether you're going to do it through a civil war or through gradual power shifting, its worth doing it early because good lord you want to get out of traditionalism as soon as you can
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Sep 22, 2023 03:23
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though, imo, we started in a fairly strong position so things like capping to rp and starting lit growth as well as accelerating industrialism/GDP/number go up ASAP, neither of which we've really done with the agrarian focus
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Sep 22, 2023 03:28
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Tulip posted:And we're super early for slingshotting our way out of it with a socialist revolution. Can't wait till having our Franco-Prussian war before the landowners got their restoration itch scratched causes us restore the Purgyals permanently. Has there ever been an LP with a monarchy that lasted all the way through Victoria/Hoi? I can't remember if Jerusalem was an absolute monarchy or military junta by the end, it's odd that there's never been a British-style constitutional monarchy (or even a liberal democracy to my recollection)
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Sep 22, 2023 04:29
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| # ? Jun 4, 2024 13:41 |
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Yuiiut posted:Can't wait till having our Franco-Prussian war before the landowners got their restoration itch scratched causes us restore the Purgyals permanently. I do wonder if some of the differences between V2 and V3 might change this? When I did healthy man of Europe I'm pretty sure I ended the game in an Atheist Monarchy (with religious schools lmao, which actually pairs great with state atheism). We're obviously not likely to do so in this run since we're already a republic and the main thing that keeps V3 monarchies intact is that its just not that importantto change off of them. Boring newbie mechanics chat since I know V3 is not super popular even among paradox fans: your nation has a bunch of "laws," and we've seen some of them in this LP. You always have to have one law in each slot, so like Freedom of Conscience and State Religion are both Church laws, while Free Trade and Protectionism are both Trade Policy Laws. Changing laws takes time, and unless you have a really popular movement for a law (or a revolution, which is downstream of a really popular movement), its often quite slow and since the game is only 100 years long, you can only spend so many 3+ year loops trying to pass a specific law. And each group of laws kind of exists in its own strategic paradigm. Army Model for example has a pretty straightforward thing where there's just 4 laws, 1 of which is fine in the early game but you absolutely need to get the gently caress rid of it by midgame, and really only 2 of which are at all useful late game. Economic system is similar: there's a law in there that is just loving awful and for countries that start with it (most of the ones I play as), a major strategic concern is replacing it with a decent law. That's sometimes been like a 20 year long project, just that one law because it makes everything you do harder. Most of the other laws are not that clear, where there's strategic reasons why you'd use basically any of the laws or the worst law is often pretty easy to get rid of (any education is better than no education, but getting church education is generally pretty easy, unless you have serfdom in which case the fight is getting rid of serfdom). Anyway, monarchy is in governance principles and...its fine. It's fine. It's hardly my favorite (that'd be parliamentary republic) but you're not crippling your country with a monarchy unlike having Traditionalism or No Education.
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Sep 22, 2023 06:16
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