Sauce Bauss How is it going, any update?

 

Finished up, currently editing my post. It's longer than the average fanfic chapter, hahaha. Passed along the save to Palindrome after Xiph0 and Lindsey were unable to take it right away, and Banta didn't respond.

 

I never got a message from you. Where did you send it?

 

I sent it on DLP. Just double checked and it's in the sent folder, so I assumed it delivered but that you were unavailable.

 

I responded to your PM late Saturday night but never received the file from you, Sauce Bauss.

That being said, I was able to install steam onto my external hard drive. I'm installing ck2 as I type this message. I will be able to join it turns out

 

Upon being conferred the crown of my father, the Pope and my family fled the halls of Provence, for the French had designs on the Pontiff of God as well. They have raised their own pretender who lays claim to the Throne of Saint Peter. This heresy cannot go unpunished, but the men of Provence are already engaged in battle far from home. My father's campaigns in Hibernia continue unabated, and I cannot abandon the men who still struggle there. I shall put my trust in the men of the Empire to hold without me as I sail north with what retinues I can spare.

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I shall subdue the sons of Eire. Much of the island was brought beneath our banner in my father's day, but the greatest of its petty kings still hold sway along the eastern and southern hills.

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Fair news! The machinations of my father bore fruit, no matter that he had passed before seeing them to completion. The Imperial Throne is an elective title now, and able to be claimed by the most worthy and cunning of the Princes of the Empire. I do not yet hold ambitions for the Kaiser's seat, but upon conquering Ireland it will perhaps be my son's fate to site upon the throne of Charlemagne. A fitting revenge on the Kaiser for allowing Provence herself to be occupied by the French.

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Word has reached me of the happenings of the continent, and they are not reassuring. The current Kaiser is a man not worthy of the title. He holds no special skill or insight in any field, nor is he well loved by the electors. His son is a toddler, and his line has lost their ancestral claim on the throne of the empire under his vigilance. He is no coward at least, leading the armies of the empire against the Franks himself, but they proved a match for the Kaiser's legions and drove them back. The men of the empire had claimed the mighty fortress of Toulouse before being driven through the Pyrenees mountains to wage a guerrilla war in France's Iberian holdings.

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While the French pursued, I sent word to my leal vassals still holding their demesnes secure north of the capital to raise their levies. They shall besiege the garrison still occupying the throne of my fathers, and set to work restoring Provence's defenses before the King of the Franks returns from Hispania.

Word reached us too late of the Kaiser's failures in Spain, and the victorious French fell upon my vassals outside the walls of Provence. Their armies routed, they have retreated to their own strongholds to regroup. Some in my court encourage me to abandon the halls of my fathers and establish court int he Emerald Isle. For all that our new lands are beautiful, they do not hold a candle to the legacy of Rome. Even fallen, the lands of the old Empire tower above the upjumped barbarians of the north. Not even the light of Christ can redeem the Irish.

Foul news, Pope Innocentius II the Holy himself has left us for the arms of the Father. He led crusades himself in battle once upon a time, and though the new Pontiff is a worthy man I fear he stands the lesser in the shadow of the man who crowned me King.

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The War with the Frankish Kingdom has come to an ignominious close. We could not claim victory, though they could not force it either. With the heirs of Charlemagne at peace once again, I have turned my eyes beyond the Emerald Isle and begun to dream of a Provence that stands first among the Princes of the Empire. The perfidious Venetians, slave traders and money lenders all, remain outside the borders of the Empire. They shirked the protection of the East while haggling and scamming the West. I shall show them the error their ways, and my house's worth, by bringing the recalcitrant republic to heel. My advisers demand that I seize the crown myself, but I shall not trample upon the traditions of the city. They may have their republic, so long as they pay obeisance to me.

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I have been distracted by war these past years, and did not notice what a fine man my son was growing up to be. Only nine years old, and he is already renowned for his wit and charisma. He is overly proud of himself, perhaps, but not without cause. I have decided to take over his education myself, and he rides with my army to learn the burden of leadership. Word of his potential has reached the ears of the Imperial Court, and the Kaiser himself has offered to take my son as a squire. What a fool he thinks me! It is an honor, but a poisonous one. There is nothing that incompetent can teach my son, except to serve as a warning about the inevitable fall of his line. Provence will stand strong under the watch of Nicholaus one day.

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The greatest of the petty kings of Ireland has bent the knee, and the city of Dublin will know my generosity. The thieves and smugglers that have plagued them have been rounded up, and I have brought peace, freedom, justice and security to my new fiefdom.

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My rejection of the Kaiser did not go unnoticed. Rumors and whispers spread from the lips of his agents and have now reached the shores of Albion itself. Ill-Ruler they call me, but justice and victory are still brought by my hand. The petty jealousies of the other princes do not dissuade me, and my own vassals know it for a falsehood. Let the history books slander me, the maps and mouths of my people will tell the truth.

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Thomond still stands independent, cutting off Desmond from the rest of hte island. I cannot stand the indignity of my people asking permission from a hill king to visit their cousins. The last strongholds of independence in Eire fall, and while their armies march north I have faith that the men of Connacht can hold until my triumphant return.

I am not the greatest general, but let no man say that I will shy away from leading my men myself. Armed and armored, I march with the men-at-arms, and they look to me for leadership in the heat of battle. My mastery in the ways of war has grown over these campaigns, and all acknowledge my new prowess.

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The bards say that I captured the Prince of Munster after engaging him in single combat, and I allow the romanticism because it distracts from the harsh realities of war. His father would have conceded then and there, for he loves his family. I will not accept it, though. I gave him a chance to bend the knee, and to swear to me as his liege lord. Instead, he denied me, and the rolling hills of green grass were stained red with the blood of the sons of Provence. For this, I shall shed the blood of his son upon the earth. He will share my people's pain when I besiege his home with his son's head upon a pike at the head of my army.

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Victory. My son has come of age during these campaigns, and has followed in my footsteps. His interest in arithmetic is all consuming, despite his natural talents in the arts of diplomacy. He is a competent enough commander, but I doubt the histories will extol his virtues in that arena when it comes time to record his deeds. He is trusting, perhaps too much so, and I will have to choose a wife who will protect him from those who would see him deposed. Poison is a woman's weapon, and she will be his shield against the same.

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Pope Benedictus X might not be the man that Innocentius was, but he does not deserve the insult he receives from the Kaiser. He has raised the men of the empire to arms to wage war on the Papacy itself. He does not dare claim the city of God, but tries even now to strip the surrounding regions from the Pontiff’s control. Over ten thousand men have answered our holy father’s call to arms, and though I will not raise the flag of rebellion, the emperor will not find me at his side when he raises the banners.

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With Ireland secure, I prepare for war with the Venetians. They knew this day would come, but not even their mercenary companies will come to their aid when they see the host that besieges the city. I will have their obedience, even if I must sink it beneath the wretched lagoons. Should they deny me, I will dam their precious waterways, and when the land lays dry I will set fire to it.

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As I sail from Ireland back to Provence, I take these quiet weeks to acquaint myself with the state of the world while I campaigned at the edge of it. The English still hold strong in Jerusalem, after having taken it during the crusades before my birth. The Seljuk Turks war against the Shia Fatimids, and all of Persia is lost. Iberia is held entirely by the sons of Christ for the first time in centuries. It is a good day to be a Christian man, and a Christian father. The Byzantines stand stronger than they have since the birth of Islam.

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The moment has come. The Venetians have raised their mercenaries and what men they have to war with the Sicilians over trade disputes. The merchants burn the fields of Sicily, and the walls of the city are undefended. I am not blind to the complaints of my people after decades of war, so I have enlisted the aid of Russian mercenaries. They marched to the Adriatic to await my fleet, and upon rendezvous they descended upon the indolent masses of Venezia. With their men and money spent in Italy, it was a quick war. I only realize the true cost after the fact.

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My eldest son has always felt slighted by my preference for his brother. It is not his fault that the laws and traditions of Provence name the youngest son heir. For his fidelity during these years, I shall establish a new noble house to rule as Patrician of the city of Venice. My son shall be raised up to be Doge, and his wife, Princess Brigida of Norway, shall smooth relations with his new vassals. Hopefully this will mollify both my son and my new vassals, as a show of commitment to not delegate their oppression to some bureaucrat.

Unfortunately, my desire to spare the men of my kingdom has bankrupted us. A decade of tax revenue, spent in mere months. We are far from struggling, but the coffers of Provence lay bare, where once they overflowed. Still, the wealth of Venice shall recoup the losses, and I will bide my time and restore the fortunes of my kingdom. I will not leave my son a pauper king, forced to endure the smirking condescension of the clergy’s praises for his indigence. This will delay my plans for the Scots, and I fear that my son shall not carry forward my claim without having to retread my footsteps. An expensive mistake, but a lesson well learned. I shall spend the next few years consolidating my hold in Ireland, and stockpiling for the future.

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With his elder brother mollified, I turn to my son Nicholaus. It is time to begin preparing him to rule. I am 50 years old, and already the specter of death lurks the footsteps of my fellows. With a quick marriage for my son to a witty young German, the daughter of a baron, I ensure the continuation of my dynasty. My vassals have spent some years murmuring about my son’s aptitude in the field, and his corresponding lack of experience in ruling. To that end, I have named him Duke, and granted him rule over the greatest county in Ireland. The people of Dublin will learn to love him as he learns to lead.

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With my sons married, I turn my attention to my daughters. Pious and proper, they have not shamed me despite my inattention. In recognition of their filial duty, I have begun sending emissaries to arrange marriages for them. For my eldest, she shall marry the heir of the Duke of Barcelona. Our lands border each other in Iberia, and it is good to have Christian brothers to turn to when the Moors cast jealous eyes across the Gates of Hercules. For my second-born, she is engaged to the future lord of Pisa, the Merchant Kings who have shown their worth so many times these past years in their crusades against the Sultans of Africa. And finally, my youngest. The fairest of my daughters, and my favorite though I don’t dare display it. For her, a gift. She shall marry the next Basileus, and sit beside the Throne of Solomon. Empress of the Romans, when her great grandfather was named Usurper. Prince Adrianos is a fine man, and I trust that the bonds between us shall remain strong.

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My virtue has been recognized by the Patriarch of Rome. I pressed my lips to the Ring of the Fisherman, and he named me a Paragon of Virtue. My faith is renowned throughout the world, and all Christian Kings look to me as an example of piety worthy of emulation.

In the heartlands of the Kingdom, news came. Our neighbor, the Duke of Dauphine, has passed. His son has inherited, but whispers have reached my ears that he is illegitimate. The wife of my cousin Kill-Devil has approached me asking that I support her claim and prevent the fruit of adultery from claiming her family’s lands. Far be it from me to leave my kinswoman in distress, and having a d’Orange sit the throne of Dauphine will be useful when the time comes to claim the Imperial title for our own. It was an uneventful war, and the strong rivers of Provence proved a mighty ally as they have since time immemorial.

Alas, I was called away for the final subjugation of Ireland. Before the final blow was struck, the messengers reached me. My wife, Frida von Tyrol, had passed away while I was campaigning. I returned to the capital so quickly that it seemed instant. She has been my faithful companion for decades, and has gifted me the future of my house. I owe her more than I can express, and I swear now that I will take no wife after her. In my grief, though, I admit that I turned to a young woman of the court for comfort. Perhaps it is right that they call me Ill-Ruler, for I did not last the year before I yielded to the temptations of flesh. She has given me a child, and while I will not deny it, it will never stand before my trueborn children in the the eyes of the law and God. This is all I can do, may Frida forgive me when I join her again.

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It has been several years, and the pit of despair still grips me. I no longer lead the armies of Provence to battle, I merely await the reaper while hoping that my son can surpass me when the day comes. I sit and receive messengers, who bring such outlandish claims that one would almost think that Constantinople itself had fallen. Hordes of long haired horseman ride from the east, and drive the Musselmen before them like cattle. I have faith in my son-in-law, for Basileus Adrianos will not allow the light of God to dim before pagan hordes. Let them come, we have endured the likes of Attila, and this “Genghis Khan” will meet the blades of Christiandom like all those who came before, and all those who will come after.

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I...my hands shake as I write this. My father, King Martel, has passed into Glory. These past few years had weighed on him, and he dwelled on his sins while the companions of his youth fell. He never truly recovered after the death of my mother. The halls of Provence have lain quiet and the spears of her sons have gathered dust. No longer. My father left me a mighty legacy. The boots of Provence’s finest shall shake the earth, and the treasures of the world shall fill her coffers. Let none find us wanting. Kaiser Alberich thinks to rein us in, as though we are errant children. He never dared do so while my father lived, and I will show him why he is mistaken now. The Imperial Throne is mine.

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That was well worth the wait, Sauce. Really nice AAR.

The whole "Moors casting jealous eyes over the gates of Hercules" thing pretty much sums it up. You did a damn fine job of getting in character.

A lot accomplished too when you think about it. Venice and the rest of Ireland subjugated, children all in very good positions and the dynasty strengthened. Excellent work.

 

Palindrome

How goes the run?

 

Well, there's been no word from Drome and she's probably busy with the move to Xenforo. Should we proceed without her?

 

In the interests of keeping this alive I'd say yes

 

Drome has work commitments so I've asked Sauce to pass the save to Xiph0.

 

Dont want to be spoilsport but didnt we agreed to no DLCs this run? And if not than why the fuck did I played without Way of Life, do you know how annoying that was?

Beside that, I am impressed you managed all that with so few children an the end!

 

Ah Jaysus.

I've been playing CK2 regularly for six years and got my ruler deaded inside five years and didn't know you could change dynasty name.

The fuck, lads.