Crusader Kings II Co-op Game Thread!

The Game Room
81

I haven’t been paying close attention, as I said. If it weren’t for a guy with a weak claim on England who was at my court, I wouldn’t have noticed that it had such an agitated history (each time there was a succession war in England, I had an icon telling me I could press his claim. That was about all the time).

For the details I posted, I looked up the “history” tab of England that gives the list of previous kings, and loaded the previous save when “England” was still called “Norway”. A switch from white to red is quite noticeable even when you don’t pay attention.

Not really. I played like a brute. The only vaguely subtle thing I did was a kind of “inviting, breeding and tutoring program” that, after reigning for 50 years, leaves my successor with a pool of quite talented courtiers (and a lot of kids). The rest of the time, I just attacked the weaks and the orphans. Aragon had de jure claims on a large part of Spain from the get go.

It will be a bit different for my successor. The easy picks are gone (although there are the Balearic islands and the remains of Castilla) and I’m really curious to see where he will go from there.

82

Don’t worry, my updates should be way less knowledge-enhanced. :stuck_out_tongue:

I should get in some good playtime tonight and then will report back.

83

By the way, as far as ruling time goes, I fully intend to play until my leader dies and then ship it off to the next person, even if I only get three months. I just think that adds to the fun. That said, if that happened to someone and they wanted to play the next leader to at least get through a regency, I have no problem with it.

84

OK, played a few years’ worth tonight. Here goes:

–
At long last, my father has shuffled off this mortal coil, and I, King Sancho II, am ruler of the land. Huzzah! The only thing marring the occasion is that I seem to have developed some kind of illness. I spend most of my coronation day coughing.

Also, unfortunately, it seems that all of my vassals hate me. I don’t get it. Dad wasn’t that great. But they seem upset that I control too much land, and that I have not been ruler for nearly long enough. The latter problem will eventually fix itself, assuming I keep an eye on any potential assassins… As for the former, it’s probably about time for my oldest son and heir to have a landed title of his own anyway. He’s been whining about it since my coronation.

So I give the County of Viscaya and Duchy of Navarra to my son Sancho. He promptly departs my court along with his family. I wish them the best and am privately relieved not to have to make any regal visits. Navarra is far from my castle, and good-quality roads haven’t been invented yet. My poor back has still not recovered from my last journey to the next county over.

While I’m giving things away, I allow my son Nuño control of the county of Murcia. He seems generally content with his lot in life and therefore unlikely to make any noises about being granted further duchies or other such inconveniences. Also, Murcia is very far away and I believe I have mentioned how I feel about carriage rides.

I hand out a few monetary gifts to some of the more troublesome vassals. Now that I have divested myself of some excess lands and cash, they seem much happier as a group. There are still a few I will need to keep an eye on, however…

Meanwhile, I have some daughters and sisters to marry off. I try to find someone intelligent for my sister Adosinda, in order to keep up the quality in the dynastic line. Don’t want any more imbecile situations. (I may need to do something about that brother of mine one of these days…) Do you know how hard it is to find a genius these days? Particularly one willing to be married matrilineally? After searching the realm on her behalf, I finally give up and settle on a nice Croatian fellow named Grigorii. He’s 47, attractive, and lusty. If nothing else, he should at least produce some more dynastic heirs.

Another matrilineal marriage for my daughter Margarita. She is betrothed to a rather intelligent-seeming 10-year-old named Nigel. A bit young for her, but she is only 16, and at age 22 when the wedding takes place, she should still be in her prime fertile years. Assuming she isn’t assassinated in the meantime.

After all of that work, I decide to throw a summer fair. That should entertain the proles. I am vaguely aware that “proletariat” is a concept that has not been invented yet, but I do not let such trivialities affect my enjoyment of the fair. There are jugglers, after all. Jugglers, I tell you! And trained monkeys!

After the riff-raff and their verminous monkeys have cleared out of the grounds, the vassals start whining again. Will nothing cease their endless complaining? I really must talk to my spymaster about some more permanent solutions to this problem. Meanwhile, I decide to be magnanimous and lower the city tax to a somewhat less harsh level. At least the mayors will be happy.

I think I’m starting to feel better. I haven’t coughed in days.

Count Ahmad, my vassal in Almeria, is resistant to all of my efforts to win him over. He has started a faction wanting me to lower crown authority in my domain. As if. I consider plotting to… dispose of him, but unfortunately everyone in his court hates me as much as he does, and clearly I can’t take care of this alone. (Carriage ride over there, for one thing.) I must consider this at more length.

My uncle dies a maimed cripple. I don’t really care. We weren’t close.

In the latter half of the year, I find that my daughter Margarita, betrothed to the genius Norman kid, has apparently grown tired of waiting, and has produced a child out of wedlock. I am not happy, but I admit the child to my Court anyway. You never know when someone might later prove useful. (She names the child “Manrique.” I keep my opinions on this to myself.)

I send my Spymaster to Tarragana, as yet another of my vassals there has declared a faction for independence. Is there no end to these troublesome vassals and their factions?! However, I note with some smugness that Count Ahmad’s faction to lower crown authority has almost no support from the populace. What a loser. Still working on a plan for him…

–

The New Year passes and 1117 arrives. With it, a timely revolt from our French-ruled neighbors. County Rosello and a handful of other counties rebel, declaring their independence from France. It just so happens that I have a de jure claim on County Rosello. The iron seems ripe for the striking!

I declare war and raise up my levies. We begin sieging. It’s going well, although typically my vassals begin whining almost immediately that we have been at war too long. I tell them that I find it a bit rich that they are complaining about the war lasting too long before they have even managed to march out of their own county. But there is no talking to these people. Honestly.

I hope we can manage to successfully press our claim before France reclaims its revolting provinces. This sieging is taking forever.

I receive word from home that Count Ahmed has died of severe stress (and his independence faction along with him). I am oddly disappointed by this news. I was hoping to take care of him… myself. Oh, well; gift horses, mouths, etc., etc.

Back at the castle, my ward has become rather slothful and uninterested in learning. I could try to reverse this trend, but frankly am too lazy. Hmm…perhaps he picked up this trait from me? No matter.

My son Enrique comes of age. I marry him to a lovely Italian girl named Flavia. I think that her natural cynicism will be a good match for his trusting ways. Also, she is young and hopefully fertile. A ruler thinks about these things.

There is an unmarried courtier in the palace. She has been batting her eyes at me in a decidedly interesting way of late. Her name is Milia… a lovely name, don’t you think? Perhaps I will pay her a visit soon. You know, just to make sure she is comfortable. Yes. This is a good idea.

–

Another New Year as we ring in 1118.

Something called the Knights Templar has been founded. I don’t really care. The Church interests me only insofar as the taxes my bishops send me. All glory to God and pass the collection plate is what I say.

The siege in Rosello continues. I think we need better siege equipment or something, because this is seriously taking forever. We do at least manage to take the Count of Rosello prisoner. Unfortunately, it turns out that the Count of Rosello is my kinsman, the Prince of Castille. Oh, well. You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs. Besides, the damp air in the dungeons will be good for his skin.

My Spymaster is earning his keep most admirably. I sent him to Tarragona to keep an eye on things there, and he managed to use leverage on craven Count Hilal to get him to cancel his ridiculous independence faction. (Why am I cursed with these idiotic vassals? Go ahead and try to declare independence with your potty little county and I will stomp you under the bootheels of 6,500 Aragonian soldiers. Once they come back from sieging, of course.)

Grigorii, my son-in-law, dies at age 44 before actually producing any children. Well, that was a waste of everybody’s time. I remarry Adosinda to a bright young Breton named Domenico. He doesn’t seem to be ailing, but then neither did Grigorii. Though Grigorii was bald… I always said you can never trust a bald man.

I decide to increase the size of my personal bodyguard. Most of the vassals seem reasonably content, but there are always a few bad apples, and one can never really be too safe. Besides, it makes me look important.

As the year changes again, I receive news that Milia has become pregnant. Well, that’s just great.

–

My first act of 1119 is to legitimize my bastard son, Velasco. He’s a cute kid, and besides, if I didn’t, Milia would be severely pissed off. You don’t want to know what that looks like. Hey, maybe I should send her to the siege to speed things up…

I teach my ward about the finer things in life – namely, money – and he promptly lifts my coin bag from me when I’m not paying attention. I am beginning to think this child is simply not educable.

The siege is beginning to pick up some steam and I am optimistic that we may be able to press this claim after all… when France finally grows a pair and stamps out the rebellion. My armies are left wandering around France looking confused and wondering what to do with all this useless siege equipment. Great. Now I’m going to have to declare war on France. Although it did take them almost two years to put down a really lame rebellion, so we might actually have a chance.

I must think about this.

85

(Note that the term “proles” dates back to the Roman republic.)

86

My leader cares not for your petty corrections!

(I, however, appreciate the information. :slight_smile: )

87

The Knights Templar will be a great help against the Moor. You can hire them with piety and, if you’re defending against the infidel, you don’t even have to pay them any gold. Beware, they won’t fight fellow Christians.

88

I had a lot of fun reading your report. Thanks. I’m waiting impatiently for the next one.

He was the only courtier who had survived through all my reign, heartless bastard! (well, technically, he was the bastard, but still)

I wonder what you’re referring to, here.
Too bad for Rosello, I was disappointed reading that. Well, someone will eventually get it, I suppose.

89

It was an event that popped due to having “increase intrigue” as an ambition. I decide to increase the size of my bodyguard and it gives me +1 Intrigue skill.

90

Ah, OK. I thought that you were refering to a retinue.

91

As I mentioned previously, while this game is progressing, I’d be interested in another succession game, playing a muslim leader (never done so) with the “sword of Islam” DLC.

Any taker?

92

Sounds good to me.

93

It would be amusing to play one of the Muslims in Spain, while the other game has Christians taking over Spain.

94

I’m down.

95

I’ll have some more updates tonight. It may be after the boards go down for maintenance; if so, I’ll just save my write-ups and post them after we’re back up again.

By the way, if whoever is next in line could PM me your email address for when I need to send the save file, that would be great. (I will probably just Dropbox it.)

96

How does one get to the save file to send? I missed the directions before, if they were posted.

97

It’s saved in Documents/Paradox Interactive/Crusader Kings II/save games. Just find the right one and then email or Dropbox it or whatever to the next person in line.

My leader is still not dead. I have a lot of writeup to do. Not sure I will make it before the boards shut down but we’ll see.

Does anyone have a suggestion about how to make these posts somewhat less “wall of text”-y? I was thinking maybe each year should go in a spoiler box so you can just expand each one as you get to it. Or put two-year segments into their own posts, or… I don’t know. Maybe I’m overthinking this.

98

I don’t mind walls of text in this case (*), but there’s no particular reason to write a year by year report. You could write it by themes, for instance, especially if you have a long period to cover : “The Crusade” “My plots and schemes against the king of France”, “Dear family”, etc… On the other hand I think that spoiler boxes would just make reading inconvenient.

(*) Probably in part because I’ve played before you, so I’m familiar with the counties, cities, neighbours, etc.. you mention and very interested in what’s happening with the kingdom.

99

OK, this is going to be crazy long, but I will just break it up into a couple of posts. I like dividing up by years, actually. It’s less complicated IMO.

100

Mid-1119, my military disbanded and the soldiers on their way home to whatever province they came from, I decide to form a more permanent cadre of troops. You know, for next time. I am still stinging from the inconclusive and frustrating end to our war over Rosello, but I shall wait and fight another day. Though France now controls it, and France is looking quite…large. Perhaps I should turn my attentions westward instead. Just for now.

There is a decided lack of domestic harmony in House Jimenez. My wife has employed her servants to follow me around the castle, and one of them has informed her that I have not been entirely faithful. Not faithful in the slightest, to be honest with you. You’d think that the bastard child I legitimized earlier in the year would have been a pretty obvious tip-off, but sometimes my wife isn’t the most observant creature. To put it mildly. Anyway, this culminated in a huge row, and she demanded that I break things off with Milia.

As if.

So now I’m sleeping on a chaise longue in the Auxiliary Conservatory. I would just stay in Milia’s quarters, but… ha ha, staying in a lowborn courtesan’s quarters. It is to laugh. No, no, this chaise longue will be quite comfortable enough for now, I think.

I can’t pursue any wars for the time being, as my soldiers are still resting and recovering from our last debacle. So I turn my attention to all the trivialities that make up the daily life of the kingdom. Bishop Gonzalo wants to have a duel, of all things. He is quite insistent about it. I consider disallowing it, but that would only irritate him, and Lord knows (heh) I don’t want him sending all of his coins to Rome again. So, fine, whatever. I tell him to shoot at whoever he wants to; just be careful about it. He thinks I’m genuinely concerned for his welfare. How quaint. Actually I just don’t want to have to jolly up whoever his replacement turns out to be. The devil (or the bishop) you know, as they say…

My son Enrique gives me a grandson, Jaime. It’s always difficult to tell with infants, but I could swear this one has a clever glint to his eyes. I’ll keep that one close to the vest.

Things are going well with the populace. People seem to admire my success – I managed to play off the Rosello incident as part of some kind of master plan, and the peasants will seriously believe just about anything – and one of the courtiers actually asked me to teach her the secrets of my success. “Marry well and kill all of your enemies” didn’t seem quite the thing, so I made up some stuff about diplomacy and tenacity to keep her happy.

As the year comes to an end, I get a message from the Pope – never welcome. That guy is always hassling me about something. This time it’s the county of Barcelona. Apparently they are not Catholic enough for his liking. He wants me to put boots on the ground to forcibly convert the populace. Has this ever turned out well? I’m not doing this. I compose a response telling him that I think a more diplomatic solution is in order. I guess it’s time to send the Court Chaplain over there to talk to some people. Better him than me. You know how I feel about carriage rides.

Count Hilal, the slimy bastard, finally dies in what they say is an accident. All I know is that I didn’t have anything to do with it, though I’d have liked to. He was a thorn in my side for years with his talk of independence and revolt and blah blah blah. Good riddance to bad rubbish. His successor is an 11-year-old kid. I sent him a monetary gift to celebrate the start of his reign. What kid doesn’t love money? I suspect I’ll have no further problems there.

1120.

Pelaio, my ward, has become painfully shy. If he ever wants to get anywhere in life, he’s going to have to get over this little problem, tout suite. The lad can barely put two words together when talking to me. Me, his tutor! Of course, I am also the King of Aragon and ruler of all the land, but I hardly think that should make a difference.

Maybe a little difference. At any rate, I spend some time working with Pelaio on his issue, but to no avail. I sometimes regret having taken him on as a ward. He shows little promise.

My wife announces that she needs a new horse. Sensing an opportunity to finally move back into the marital bed, I find her a nice white mare, frisky and playful but tractable. My wife loves it, though I can see she’s trying not to let on, in order to keep the upper hand. As long as I get to move out of the conservatory, she can do whatever she wants. There are birds nesting in there. Birds!

I am still waiting for the army to recover. I’d summon the troops now, but it wouldn’t really do me any good. These things take time. Meanwhile, I get news that my half-brother Antso, Duke of Sicily (and Prince of Aragon, for whatever that’s worth to him – about the cost of the parchment it’s inscribed on, I’d wager) has taken over Malta. Well, good for him.

A small annoyance crops up. Baron Guifre of Cerdanya has an heir who holds titles outside my kingdom. This must be addressed. Normally I would just kill the heir, but the heir succeeding him also has titles outside my kingdom, and I suppose you can’t just start killing everybody. Guifre is unmarried, though. Hmm. I arrange a marriage to a young and hopefully fertile courtier who has been hanging around the palace for a while. Presumably the problem of Guifre’s heir will fix itself before too long.

…and, shortly after I arrange the marriage, I get reliable information that Guifre is a homosexual who has declared a vow of celibacy. Maybe you can kill everybody… but no, I’ll wait and see what happens. Give them a couple of years at least. You never know.

Mid-1120, the troops are recovered sufficiently. I believe it is time to expand the kingdom. To the west, this time! (France is still looking rather intimidatingly large, if as a king I were ever to admit that another country intimidates me, which of course I would not.) I declare war on Emir Rashid of the Dhunnunid Emirate for the county of Calatayud - which happens to be rather conveniently located directly to the west of my own kingdom of Aragon.

No sense in pressing a claim against a county you have to go on a long trip to get to, is what I say. I raise up the levies and inspire the troops with talk of conquest, glory, and victory.

Predictably, the vassals start complaining before I am even done with my speech. It’s been a week, guys. Did you really think we were going to conquer the Emir of Dhunnunid in a week?

I send the Great Army of Aragon to invade Calatayud. Meanwhile I hear news that my kinsman, King Pinolo “the Fat” (must have gained some weight since the last time I saw him), has declared a Holy War on Sheikh Jyad of Molina. Well, good for him. And interesting… Molina is also located conveniently close to my kingdom. Might want to keep an eye on that one.

I send my half-brother Prince Antso (Duke of Sicily) a call to arms, feeling that surely he cannot decline his own half-brother in time of need.

He does. Typical.

1121.

I hear news that Prince Antso has accepted Pinolo the Fat’s call to arms instead! That backstabbing… he is definitely not invited to the Christmas party this year. Definitely not.

The army begins sieging Calatayan. We’ve become rather good at sieging in the past several years. The soldiers are getting used to it. Meanwhile, my gay nephew Alvar comes of age. He’s good with money. I don’t have high hopes for any potential dynastic heirs from his line (for obvious reason) but I marry him off to a rather intelligent Swedish diplomat anyway. You just never know.

Somewhat making up for my half-brother Antso’s failure, I hear from Kaiser Herich of the Holy Roman Empire (a.k.a. my half-sister Judita’s father-in-law) that he will be more than happy to answer my call to arms. Good man! Calatayan is going well, but more troops are always welcome.

1122.

Word reaches my ears that Mentzio Gonzalez, one of my courtiers, is plotting to kill Diego. Diego, my hand-picked left flank leader! I hardly think so! Well, Mentzio is not the only person in this court who can organize a plot. We shall see about this.

Gomez, my son, comes of age. I consider his options. He’s a good boy, reasonably talented without being too flashy about it. I settle on a betrothal to Irina, Grand Princess of Tver, which will result in an alliance with the Queen of Rus. Irina is of House Rurikovitch. Prestigious! And frankly better than Gomez could have reasonably expected to do. Granted, Irina is only 9 years old, but Gomez will be happy to wait. She seems a strong and healthy girl. She’ll be worth it. (Her alliance certainly will be.)

Mayor Llop has quietly procured a poisonous viper. Good man, good man. I tell him to do with it as he sees fit, and he nods knowingly.

My bright and capable half-brother Gartzia is in need of a tutor. I take him on myself. A child with that much promise needs a good mentor to keep him on the right path. And to keep him from developing any sort of unfortunate ambitions, as well. A king has to think about these things.

Mentzio Gonzalez dies of a venomous snake bite. I am sure I have no idea how that happened. How tragic.

My older ward, Pelaio, is on my nerves with his endlessly patient temper. Does nothing enrage the boy? Does nothing excite him, enliven him? I fear not. He is a total and complete bore. I try to provoke him into anger by hiding his favorite wooden soldiers. He shrugs and says that he is sure they will turn up soon. Gah!

My attention is distracted from these petty domestic matters, however, by the welcome news that Emir Rashid has surrendered! We gain the county of Calatayud after a not terribly long siege! I send the soldiers home in triumph and consider what best to do with my new holdings. I have two sons with no landed titles - a recipe for disaster if I’m not careful. Yet, I feel it unwise to give the county to my son Enrique. He has the light of ambition in his eyes, and I suspect he would not be content with a mere county. Give him an inch, he’ll take a mile. Or a kingdom.

Gomez, on the other hand, might be just the thing. He is patient, kind, and trusting, if not the most brilliant leader. Perfect vassal material, really. I hand him the title to Calatayud and he is almost embarrassingly grateful about it. Problem solved.

Now, to my daughter Margarita. She was betrothed at an early age to Nigel, a Breton, but now that he is of age, his liege is refusing the matrilineal marriage offer. Possibly this has something to do with Margarita’s bastard son, but I like to think that such trivial concerns are of little importance when we are talking about developing dynasties. I consider this problem briefly and then come up with a plan. I send Nigel a small gift - a token of appreciation for his service to my kingdom, I say. I imply that if he were to come to my court, there might be further such gifts in store for him. Maybe even a spot on my council. I mention nary a word about my unmarried daughter with the bastard son.

I receive his response a week later. He will be on the next carriage to Aragon.

Once he arrives and is settled into the court, I pay a personal visit to him. I explain his obligations as a courtier and make passing reference to the dungeons, in which prisoners from the last rebellion are still rotting away in the damp. Not, I tell him, that I am mentioning this for any particular reason. No reason at all, really.

He is married to Margarita (matrilineally, of course) within the month. It’s good to be the King.

In late 1122, with the soldiers safely back in their home provinces and everyone feeling good about our victory, I decide that it’s time to hold a grand tournament. Not just any tournament; the sort of epic event that people talk about for years afterward. A once-in-a-lifetime thing. We invite all the knights of the kingdom. I feel confident this will be extraordinarily popular with the peasants, and I admit that I myself am looking forward to seeing the competition.

Particularly as I will not be one of the contestants. Do you know how dangerous these things can be?

Gartzia, my half-brother and ward, asks me one day if he will someday rule. The answer, obviously, is no. There are about fifteen people in between him and the throne of Aragon. However, I feel that a little hope for success is good for developing a work ethic, so I tell him that he can certainly rule some day, if he deserves it. He seems even more studious than usual in the upcoming weeks. Once again, my plans succeed admirably. I feel a little smug.

Manrique needs a tutor. I assign his mother the job, as I feel that no one else should be subjected to that name on a daily basis. I mean, really.

The grand tournament comes off just spectacularly. Only three knights were severely wounded, and everyone had a good time. (Well, all but three people, I suppose.) The only thing marring the occasion was the fact that a Frank won the grand prize. A Frank, of all people! Can you imagine? He did earn it fairly, however, so I can’t begrudge him too much. (Still… a Frank!)

In December, I hear word that King Pinolo the Fat has died. Perhaps too much rich food. I also receive the news that Barcelona has been converted to Catholicism! Just in time for Christmas. Perhaps this will finally get that Roman harpy off my back.

1123.

Extremely interesting news: The county of Molina, directly to the west of my kingdom, is rebelling against its liege. I’ve had my eye on that county for some time now…however, I have learned my lesson about invading when a county is in rebellion. Your troops arrive, ready for a long and successful siege, and then the rebelling lord decides that rebellion is maybe not such a good idea after all, and then where is your war? Nowhere, that’s where. Also, the liege of Molina happens to be Sancho III, King of Castile - a kinsman. I shall bide my time and see how this plays out.

Ah, a call to arms from none other than Sancho III, King of Castile. Imagine that. He requires assistance in putting down a rebellion in one of his counties. I bet you can guess which one. I answer in the affirmative, but send only a small retinue of troops and tell them not to actually join the battle unless it becomes unavoidable. They are there for show only. I am secretly hoping that the rebellion succeeds; if the rebels gain independence, I will have a clear shot at Molina without having to anger my kinsman – or, more crucially, having to face the troops of his entire kingdom.

Some annoying household responsibilities present themselves. Alvar Ramirez has conceived a plot to kill one of my kinsmen. I have a strict policy in this kingdom about killing my kinsmen. Only I am permitted to do this. (And even I try to be stealthy about it, honestly.) Normally I would simply murder Ramirez for this, but as luck would have it, he is married to a brilliant and highly-educatd wife who has not yet produced any children. This is extremely annoying. Instead I will have to be diplomatic and simply ask him to end the plot.

He agrees surprisingly readily. Perhaps he has heard tales of my brotherhood of assassins. I really must increase their pay one of these days.

Word reaches me from Sicily that my half-brother Antso is now known as Antso the Mad. I cross him off the Christmas party list.