Like one big, happy family: A Subsim CK2 Dynasty AAR

[Hottentot]

Family Guy
The Blunders of Duke Andrea II
the Flamboyant Schemer
(1193 - 1253)

I DON'T LIKE SPAM!!!!!!!!

Sigh. If you weren't the only cook in the whole demesne, I'd hack your head off personally. Now let's try again, shall we...

P, like in "Please".
I, like in "Italia".
Z, like in "Zave".
Z, like in "Ze".
A, like in "Albion."

P-I-Z-Z-A! Not difficult, OK! Now go get me some and stop bringing me that cursed spam!! And take that stupid horned helmet off too, while you're at it!!


Sigh. Dear diary: it's no easy thing to govern these fools. I have been in vain trying to teach them to cook proper food, but all they can get me is egg and bacon; egg sausage and bacon; egg and spam; egg bacon and spam; egg bacon sausage and spam; spam bacon sausage and spam; spam egg spam spam bacon and spam; spam sausage spam spam bacon spam tomato and spam...

It's driving me CRAZY!! How can I rule over my God (who happens to be related to an Italian, in case you didn't know) given lands when my servants are trying to starve me?! And why should I do it anyway? Like, one day there I was trying in vain to find a signorina in here who didn't look like a fish, when my father came to me and said: "Son, I have great news for you..."



Great, I thought: finally he is going to share with me the secret family tuna macaroni salad recipe, but instead he just showed me a boring map with many different colored spots in it. He stuck his greasy fingertip there and said: "One day, lad, all this will be yours!"

"What, the tablecloth?" I asked. He obviously expected me to be excited.





If he expected me to be excited about that, I bet he thought I'd squeal with joy when he told me I'm betrothed to a wig wearing fish. Her huge tracts of land didn't make her any more to my liking, contrary to dear father. The way he mentioned those, I thought he was using an euphenism. He wasn't.

So now I live in a bloody swamp with a fish and have only spam to eat. I somehow thought being a duke would be more glamorous.





The only thing that prevents me from giving it all away is the fact that according to the law my closest heir is my stupid brother Abbondio, who threw my hat into dog poo when I was 5.





So I try finding people who might want it instead the sneaky way. I find out that one of my vassala, the Earl of Oriel, is plotting to steal my lands from me. Cool, I think.





Unfortunately my over-zealous guards find out about it and when I invite him to discuss the details, they throw him into jail. "A marvelous deception, my liege!" They praise me. "The fool really thought he was coming to negotiate for your title."





Since I'm a Duke now, I suppose I should do something else than just throwing gold florins around and saying "shake it baby". Researching the chronicles, I see my family has somehow been very fascinated with the idea of acquiring more land. No idea what I'd do with it, but my advisors tell me I have a legal case to claim the county of Connacht in Ireland. And since our dear liege the king also wants it, they suggest I hurry.





I can't be bothered to go myself, but I send Luca and the boys to introduce the local Earl to the concept of "Family Business."





Meanwhile it seems the fish has learned to read. I throw gold at her, since it seems to make her shut up. And with any luck next time I'm trying to make sweet Italian love, I don't feel like humping an octopus.





My family is also known to be builders of stuff. That's why I get ludicrous amounts of gold carried to me all the time and there are only so many horses that horse merchant Lamborghini can breed exclusively for me. So I order my minions to build more stuff and then concentrate on deciding if I should ride the white or the black one today.





My generals send me a letter asking what to do in Connacht. I write them a brief and to the point reply.





My masterful tactics net us a prisoner. Excellent!





However, a brief interrogation reveals that my inept troops managed to capture the poorest noble in the whole enemy army. Bah!





Not really having a better idea, I let him go and instead send the stupid soldiers who captured him there in his place.





My troops can still do something properly, though. They have seized a shipment of spam from the enemy and now the defenders of Connacht are getting hungry. They request peace. I promise them to leave at once, give up all the claims on their lands and send them cake.





I'm such a nice guy I didn't want to depress them by telling they are going to die soon.





The starved fools open the castle doors, and the boys start making sure the local merchants have proper protection. Turns out most of them don't.





And as for the Earl, I make him an offer he can't refuse.





Of course, trampling around the local neighborhood has its downsides as well. Namely the local don, who claims we are on his turf.





Sigh. All this violence, it's very upsetting.





While waiting for the siege to end, I'm wondering if I should the bat, the club, the racket or just a generally speaking big freaking stick to make a point to my defeated opponent.

[Hottentot]

All this responsibility, it's very upsetting!!





Meanwhile my liege the King is quickly adding the rest of the Emerald Island to his personal demesne. I wonder when will he realize that I now own three pieces of it?





Ha! Finally some good news! I have at last gained my revenge against that abominable Abbondio and duly used my ultimate God given power to force him to marry a fish!





Abbondio doesn't seem to appreciate my sense of humor. I can't believe hearing my own dear brother wants to kill me! Oh wait, I totally can believe it. I mean, I can't believe he thinks he has any chances to succeed in it?! What is he, a drooling imbecile?!





Oh. Right.





I tell him to stop littering my castle stairs with banana peels, but he won't listen. Instead he says "Nyah nyah" and hides behind his fish wife, who happened to be a noble and is now protecting the fool. Sigh.





I'll deal with Appondio later in a more traditional way. Now there is still this small matter of war.





After introducing my adversary to various words the English language uses to describe a large wooden object meant for hitting stuff, he and I come into a gentlemanly agreement.





My great empire has grown. Daddy would be proud.

[Hottentot]

Time to build stuff. I decide we can save time and money by not building any houses with the fourth wall and instead using only three per building. From all I've gathered, that particular wall has never been of any use in my family history anyway.





The peasants are not happy with my decision. They say they are freezing and that thinking of warm things isn't helping anymore.





Good for me that the English army is on its way to somewhere and passes by the rebel camp. I can concentrate on wasting the tax money instead of worrying about its payers.





In the South, things look fairly sane. England has consolidated its rule in Ireland and isn't in the middle of a civil war for a change.





But in the North, things are a little more wacky. Something smells rotten in there, and it's not (just) the eggs.





My map staring is interrupted by some neverheard Duke wanting to marry my relative Lucinetta. Since that will by the law send her out of my court, I decide to accept just in case. One less relative to plot my downfall.





Things become peaceful indeed and nothing happens for a while. The only amusement around here is seeing the serfs causing pain to each other, so who am I to argue when Riaged asks for my noble permission to beat his rivals up. Maybe I can even sell tickets...





Being the dear leader that I am, I also show grace to my subjects by personally killing an army of bandits, saving the damsel in distress and returning the holy chalice. After that I hit 50 hole-in-ones on my routine golf session and invent gunpowder.





The stupid priests object, saying that's not how it went. I'll have the Bishop discipline them. I have more important matters to attend.





Namely my dear brother who is still ruining my garden by digging holes around my front yard and covering them with sticks. It's time to take care of this the traditional way.





And it turns out...





That throwing hats into dog poo all the time...





Is a really effective way...





...Of making enemies. Abbondio's days are numbered.





Excellent. My machiavellian plan is coming together. Asking my dear brother to come see a dead bird in the sky, his servant Hermessent prepares to give him a flight lesson.





Unfortunately the imbecile thought he really saw a dead bird in the sky and started pointing at it with his hands. There of course was no dead bird in the sky, but soon there was half dead Hermessent on the ground.





After Hermessent has recovered from having 78 % of her body suddenly crushed, I convince her we should try that trick again. What? Of course she accepts. You have to be a little simple to serve a dolt like my brother.

But just as Hermessent was about to push Abbondio over the edge, the moron ducked to admire a ladybug on the ground. By the sound of the splat, I think Hermessent now broke about 22 % of herself. Scratch one from the list.





The sudden decrease in the quality of balcony railings has provoked an investigation of the authorities. I think we should help the officer to understand that he didn't see or hear anything and if he did, he was sleeping.





I can't believe that Hermessent is still alive, let alone willing to try for the third time. But there she is, brandishing a poisonous viper (are there any other kind?) in front of me and hissing through her now toothless mouth and twisted nose: "Hee, hee, plan!"





Abbondio has always been too fond of animals, and specifically their excrements. It finally bit him in the ass. Literally.

[Hottentot]

My amphibian baby machine has finally understood her purpose and is carrying a heir for me. Life is good!





Yes, a son! And what do you know, he doesn't look like a perch. For a moment there I think I should call him Abbondio, but in the end Benevuto sounds much better.





A courier informs me that something is going on behind the scenes in England. No matter how many times he spells it, all I get is a "faction", which doesn't make any sense.





Oh, hey, what's this? My family records never mentioned any of this. All I found was a tea stained little note titled "patch notes", which didn't make any sense either. But it appears that my generation can join these little clubs that have all sorts of funny goals. Cool! Down with the king, I say!





Being such a cool backstabber that I am, the King rewards me with a honorary title.





Eh, come to think of it, I'm doing well enough at the moment. Overthrowing the King might have some serious consequences to my ability to be stinking rich playboy. It was a stupid club anyway.





My wife informs me that I now have a daughter. Funny. I can't remember banging her. Must be my mind trying to erase the unpleasant memories.





But since I do remember having a son, I decide to get a future wife for him. The daughter of the King sounds influental enough. Always good to have Kings in your family, I think.





Some old crone prophetically chastizes me for taking too many risks in my endeavours. I have no idea what she means, but she says I'll find out soon enough.





Oh. Perhaps she meant forgetting that half of my subjects want to kill me and the other half can't make up its mind. One of the more influental ones, Earl What's-With-The-Funny-Name says he wants to be Duke instead of the Duke, but my loyal spymaster informs me on time.





After waking up next to the severed head of his favorite horse next morning, he agrees that it was a silly idea.





But according to all good traditions, right after the apology my eldest son and only heir suffers a sudden accident that leaves him with ten knives sticking out from his back. Oh Benevuto, we hardly knew ye. Should have named him Abbondio after all.





I can't prove it, but I think it was my current heir Sigeweard. I couldn't tell if he was laughing in the funeral, because he had conviniently grown a beard to cover his chin. However, whoever it was that murdered my dear...what was his name again?...Anyway, who ever it was, had one flaw in the plan.





Namely that I can simply make more heirs.

[Hottentot]

Huzaa! Finally an opportunity to show my faith and the Italian prowess to the barbarians of this island! The Pope (my family friend, by the way) calls a holy crusade for Jerusalem! Deus vult!





I pack my toothbrush, mirror, comb, wardrobe and 1887 of my closest friends and off we sail to the South.





After a long journey which I mostly slept, we arrive to the coast of Jerusalem. It's very beautiful this time of the year. Much better than that miserable rock I'm forced to live on.





Ah! I have landed to the Holy Land. Truly a sight to behold! The spirit of the saints inspires me to great deeds!





Yes! I am indeed ready to...





...Accept the fact that the Muslims outnumber us 100 to 1 and I'm too young and handsome to die. So having shown my moral support by participating to their silly little war, I leave my brothers in faith to get impaled by the turban heads and instead sail to Sicily to get some proper olive oil finally.





Besides, if I'm counting right, my wife should have made me a new heir by now. I must hurry back home so that she won't name him with one of those silly Saxon names. Our family chronicles already have enough Eanfriths as it is.





Benedetto is a much better name, and it becomes even better when I again try marrying him to the Kings daughter.





The King is very supportive, and so is my penpal in Rome, who thanks me for the "It's miserable, I wish you were here" card I sent him from Jerusalem. A little gesture goes a long way, doesn't it.





Hooray! Another heir on the way! Clearly God is happy with my participation to the crusade and has blessed me!





However, He still haven't answered my prayers to get rid of my wife the Fish, who incidentally isn't getting any more beautiful with the age. Fortunately she is too naive to understand I'm trying to have an affair with her little sister, who isn't as fish like as she is, but certainly as cold as a piece of seafood usually is.





But I'm no new to adultery! I know know what will warm her heart (other than a frying pan, I mean): a heroic victory in a tournament, dedicated to her!





Speaking of heroics, it appears we won the crusade. See now, with my great inspiration even mediocre fools can triumph. I bet it was Italian generals leading the decisive charge.





To celebrate my great victory, the King throws a feast in my honor. I graciously accept his invitation.





Looks promising. The castle is miserable and the host is ugly, but the scent...this scent is...





Yes!! Real Southern Italian wine!! More!! [Hic] More!!





Heeeeyyy yooobooo...ya, Shicherich...errr...have I eveer...eveer shaaid to yooo...that they shouuuld reeally [hic] take yoo to [burb] gallowsh...reeally... Shicherich...you shuck ash a King...OK? OK?

[Beeeeeeb], I'm druuuunk...I love you maaaan!

…

[Thunk]

[Hottentot]

And now a brief intermission: Andrea II just kicked the bucket, but not before totally messing the family lines of not only England, but Europe too. I won't spoil further since the AAR is still in process, but whoever takes it from here, I can brief you by PM.

In any case, updating the AAR will still take a while because there are lots of pictures to come, so feel free to already take it from here guys. I left you a fairly decent heir. (Whom the ever genius AI has apparently married to his cousin, I just noticed. )

Link

[Oberon]

Originally Posted by Hottentot

And now a brief intermission: Andrea II just kicked the bucket, but not before totally messing the family lines of not only England, but Europe too.

*loads up save file to take a quick peek*

[Hottentot]

What? It worked for the Habsburgs. Well, for a while at least...

[Hottentot]

Oof, my head. I have no idea what happened after the tenth tankard. All I know is that I woke up in my bed with a terrible headache and saw my wife next to me. She appeared to be dead.





I arrange a quick burial in sea to honor her before anyone thinks of suspecting me of it. The grief of the loss is too much to bear for my sensitive soul. I'm sure my former wife the Fish would understand that I need someone to console me. Someone young...with an old father...who happens to own lots of land...and doesn't have many male heirs. Yes, I think I've found one in Munster.





Dips on the chick, old man.





Next step of the business: get rid of the said male heirs, so that my future wife can inherit when my new father-in-law kicks the bucket. Yes, I said "when".





Knocking from door to door and asking who wants to kill "the person with weird alphabets in his name" with me, I find out that he has lots of friends.





So I ask how much gold does it take for him to become my friend instead. The answer apparently is "wait, I'll actually get paid in your service?!"





And thus we have once again proved that the measure of friendship can be weighed in gold.





One of my recently bought friends suggests the good old "viper to the bed" trick that undid my dear brother Abbondio. Feeling nostalgic, I agree. And the viper again delivers.





The old man of Munster has been very active with his lady, though, and my future wife still has a few brothers left. Infants, both of them. What kind of monster would I be to plot to assassinate that prancing kid on the yard?





One that wants to get its hand on the rich lands of Munster. Duh.





Besides, it appears I'm not the only one whom that brat shot with his stupid slingshot.





Me and my co-plotters find out that even the kid's servant maids hate him. All the better for us.





So we instruct one of the maids on a new game called "pillow war", and she plays it with Ceolwulf the brat. The results are to my liking.





OK, next one. I've even met this Sigeric once. He stutters so badly that he would probably sabotage his own demesne if he ever inherited the lands from his father. I'm going to make the diplomats of England a favor and make sure it never happens.





So now that the pillow war has gained such great popularity in Munster, it's obvious that the future ruler Sigeric should learn to play it too.





He too turns out to be very bad player. How do you think this child would have ever lead real armies in real war?

[Hottentot]

But my work is still not done! Just as I open a bottle of imported wine to celebrate my victory over the Munsterian infants, my spies inform me that I missed one. Apparently it's the current Duke's grand daughter. Yeah, it seems one of his imbecile sons managed to get laid before I started killing them.


I could just marry her and be done with it, but breaking my betrothal to the current girl might look a little suspicious after her brothers have started dying left and right. Better just do this the old fashion way before someone else bangs her and ruins all my plans.





Some people in the court of Munster are now against the idea, even though they supported killing the brothers. They say this is different, and I agree. The girl hasn't annoyed half as many people, since she doesn't have a slingshot.





But as we already know: when it comes to relatives...





...Moral is all relative.





This brat doesn't want to play pillow war, saying she'll get boy germs from it. So instead we ask her to come see great sights from the castle walls. There, good girl. Just a few steps further. Further, you must reach really close to the edge to get the best views. Just a few more steps and...





Happy landings dear girl-who-could-have-been-pretty-cool-wife-too.





There. My dear future wife has inherited the duchy of Munster. The news have just reached me that my dear father-in-law died of depression. I mourn for whole evening and truly wonder what might have caused him to sink into such desperate state. Truly, he was like my own father to me. I despised of him just as much at least.





Back home, my now eldest son Benedetto has reached the tender age of 6 and needs a mentor. I can't have that stupid brat asking out loud questions like "daddy, why did you kill my best friend again", so I decide to hire some random moron to tutor him.





This guy was the most promising one. He speaks with very weird accent, but I'm sure he'll do just fine.





I can't be bothered with him. A tournament is taking place again, and the sister of my former wife is watching! My manly honor demands I need to attend in order to flirt her.





I beat up all my paid opponents like we agreed, and my lady has finally seen what kind of man I really am. Um, wait, no, that's what I don't want her to see. But you get the point and I get the kiss, so everyone wins. Even the families of those I had to kill just for show.





On the more national scale, King Sigeric has decided to go kill some Scotts again. It seems to be sort of a hobby to him.





While Sigeric is away chasing the skirt wearing beard faces, me and bunch of my noble friends decide it would be cool to knock him down a little just for giggles.





That naturally doesn't stop me from flattering his fragile little ego and hoping I'll get showered with nice things again.





Our hilarious plan is overshadowed only by one of my vassal mayors complaining that he pays too much taxes. Heehee, good one. We have a great laugh over it and he leaves my throne room with a glassy stare on his face.


Life really is quite fun around here after all. I mean, my servants keep me amused, and I always get a good laugh for thinking that those other nobles might one day seriously suggest that we'd...





Start a civil war against Sigeric??!! WHAAAAAT??!! So you mean that all the "cut your arm and touch my bleeding wound with it, brother" rituals weren't just because we were drunk like pigs?!

[Hottentot]

OK. Fine. Since I'm the only one with a real army here, I suppose I have to go play war for a moment. It's all just a game after all, isn't it?





So off I go to kick some ass and then...Ooo, an abandoned tavern for sale?! I've always wanted to own one of those! Where do I sign?





Hmm, I need a catchy name for my new gold mine. Since "Boozer King" is not on the list, I suppose I should go with something else.





After I have stomped my foot on the floor and made it very clear that we are not serving spam in here, I'm left with the only non-spam food in the whole island: turnips and salt. Time to get creative.





Then there is still the question of amusement. I like the idea of the eunuch singer. Too bad we killed Abbondio. I would have gladly castrated him for the occasion. But an eunuch we will get nevertheless.





The people were amused at first, but didn't find it funny when his shrieking broke their tankards and spilled beer on their clothes. A fight erupted.





However, those drinks were already paid for, so I actually profited. The salt on the turnips helped.





All in all, I think I managed quite well, but since the quests broke the whole building down on opening night, I can't be bothered to repair it again. Back to war.





My tactical genius nets us a great victory, obviously. My so called allied have also been somewhat succesful.





Since I mostly hang around and let all the other fools get maimed in battle, I get a reputation of being patient and careful commander.





However, my younger brat Andrea (where did he come from anyway), who is following me around, gets it all wrong.





The war makes us all suffer personal losses. Mine is losing the duchy of Munster to some beard for brains, who apparently killed my future-Duchess-wife-to-be and claimed the duchy as his own. I'll get him later for that.





Because right at the moment the more urgent problem is getting a new heiress as wife before some other lords claim them all. There is one Edith, the eldest daughter of house Dunkeld which, incidentally, has only female children. Her father is the Duke of Manyplaces in Scotland. He is about my age, but I'm sure his lifespan can be shortened, so we get betrothed with Edith.





Then I throw around some money again to hire a few more underlings to help us in war against King Sigeric.





Right before marching off to war with my recently bought friends, my courier babbles something about the imminent dectruction of all organic life, but I don't have time to listen to such trivialities.





I'm too busy making a heroic landing to Ireland, specifically in Connacht. See, I knew I conquered that patch of land for something. Now the loyalist forces will learn to fear the name of house Northumbria!





We kick the King's troops into the middle of next week...only to find out that he has about 10,000 Danish barbarians helping him to put down our playful little civil war. Oops.





I think this is what we call a "time for a tactical retreat"





Note to self: next time I get involved in civil war, I should find out if the King has relatives sitting on the thrones of other kingdoms.





The other nobles agree. A white peace is negotiated and we all agree that it was a funny little exercise that left many young women out there longing for a man to hold their hands.

[Hottentot]

However, I don't have time to play with the serfs. Instead I get back to my favorite hobby: killing infants. I've been plotting to kill this whoever-he-is just for fun, but now I have a bigger fish to fry.





I'm of course referring to Roderick of Dunkeld, my newest father-in-law to whose heir I'm betrothed.





I only hope that Sigeric isn't going to ruin my future property in his newest war against Scotland.





It appears Roderick is pretty popular among his subjects. Even gefty bribes won't buy me friends this time, except for a local drunkard who claims he drank with someone called Roderick once 30 years ago. Not good enough.





Well, if I can't do it the subtle way, then a group of thugs armed with swords should be just as effective. Pinocchio and the boys will pay him a visit.





Goodbye Duke Former-Father-in-Law. Welcome Duchess Future-Wife-of-Mine.





To celebrate my success, I decide to grant a little land to my eldest son Benedetto. I'm tired of having him throw rocks at me and crying he wants a pony.





His brother Andrea on the other hand must learn already at young age that he won't get nice stuff in the first place.





As I inspect my family's future holdings in Scotland, I find out that the Englishmen and the Scots are still locked in combat. For being outnumbered 2 to 1, the skirt men fight pretty well.





Andrea follows me and already understands what the fate of the Scots is going to be under my dynasty's rule. That's the spirit, boy!

[Oberon]

Oh hai, I fixed your screenshot:

[Crécy]

Holy Roman Empire has certainly been busy .

[Hottentot]

I don't like Sigeric ruining my property with his armies. They didn't even wipe their feet before trampling over my fields. I send Gebetto and the boys to teach him a lesson about respect.





The new king reminds me of someone I once saw in a market fair gypsy's crystall ball. He spoke in very loud voice, waved his hands frantically and most he ever said was...







That's it, if he starts invading Poland, I'm out of here!





Then again, he may have a point. Some bloody peasants are not respecting my authoritah, and I need to go hit them with a big stick again.





What? This nonsense again? First he plots to claim my Duchy...





...And right after that begs for my help because he is getting his ass kicked by the the new King for not respecting the...aw, whatever!

Not that I wouldn't admire his skill at being a magnificent backstabbing bastard, but all the same I can't stop wondering if his idiocy knows any bounds.





Did he really forget that I'm the capo di tutti capi here, and when I for once have a legal claim on his lands, there is no reason not to use it when he can't hide behind the King's back anymore.





But as has happened in my family's history before, the Englishmen get there first. They let us roast some sausage on their campfire when we arrive.





Bah, whatever, it was a stupid war anyway.





I have better things to do anyway. Like finally getting married with my Edith, so she can start making babies for me.





The civil war ends quickly and the rebellious Earl Eanfrith of Ulster is thrown into King Wealtheof's dungeon.





I go visit him there. He spits on my face and says "bring it on!" Apparently the fact that the King just threw him in jail doesn't stop him from thinking we are at war and that he is winning.





Fine. We'll just go burn his mead storages then. That should do it.





Nothing like good old offspring making to relieve excess stress from stupid no good wars.




Nine months later I'm a happy father again. Edith and I think Ciro would be a good name for the future Duke of Manyplaces in Scotland. But after a few drinks we agree that Loo would be much more hilarious for the future historians, so Loo it is.





And as for Edith, I don't need her anymore when there are so many unmarried heiresses in the world waiting for me.