The House of Beata

Welcome to Cornouaille, a county whose name you will never spell right on the first try. We are Bretons, a proud Celtic people; our language sounds like Welsh spoken with a French accent. It is the late 8th century and Europe is emerging from the Dark Ages into the glorious light of the Still Pretty Fucking Dark Ages.

Now there's a couple things to know about our situation.

1. The massive blue blobs directly to your east are the Francias, ruled by confirmed mama's boy Charlemagne (King of West Francia) and his lesser known brother Shitpants (King of Middle Francia). Charlemagne's favorite snack is small, independent, helpless Breton provinces like ourselves.

2. The massive green blob directly to your south are the Saracens, who own almost all of the Iberian peninsula and are threatening to roll their kebab carts into southern France.

3. Scandinavia and Germania are pagan, and their favorite hobby is visiting quaint coastal towns in Cornouaille and taking lots and lots of souvenirs home.

4. The neighboring Breton lords all have strong claims on our single holding. No shit. I didn't know this before I started up the game.

It's game start, and we are the only member of our dynasty, the lord of a single county. Our first character is evidently modeled on my good looks and winning personality (Underhanded Rogue, Dwarf, Lustful, Slothful, Patient, Humble, Shy, Cynical). Shocking result is that our stats are dogshit.

In most games, we'd normally become instant dindin for Muslims, Vikings, or the French. To even the playing field just a teensy bit, we start off with 1k gold and claims on the neighboring Breton counties.



I invade and swipe Vannes immediately before Big Charlie notices. Southern border covered, we're free to subjugate Leon next, which is enough land to form the petty kingdom. We're already kings of Brittany kinda not really!

Our starting gold evaporates pretty much instantly. Half of it gets soaked up by mercenaries taking Vannes, and the other half is all pumped into improving our holding.



People don't like me and sometimes try to stab me. This is one such lady who snuck into my castle while I had it sealed from a measles outbreak.

Oh yes, I have measles.



Apparently when vetting royal surgeons, no one on my council questioned hiring the guy with no eyeballs to operate on me. To cure my measles, he decides just to cut all the little splotchy parts out.



Doc, I don't feel so good.

This is our inheritance. Jay is certified fugly, but his stats are otherwise twice as good as our previous ruler.

The (real) Kingdom of Brittany consists of three duchies; Brittany (owned by us), Penthievre (our northern neighbors), and Upper Brittany (which is ironically the southernmost region of Brittany and owned by West Francia).

There's not shit we can do against West Francia, but our alliance to Middle Francia means they probably won't pick on us either. The King of Penthievre, unfortunately for him, is sandwiched between the two of us.



You might not be aware that this game was created by Swedes. Paradox Interactive continues the work of their ancestors, raping and pillaging the west with $10 - $20 expansion packs.

Seriously though, this is where the suffering begins. Brittany, historically, is basically a giant Viking playground.



Penthievre falls, and we don't need the last duchy in order to form the proper kingdom title. And there was much rejoicing.

Our kingdom is de jure part of France, but I have a different goal in mind for our dynasty. The Francias are big and scary and full of smelly French and German people, but the British Isles are fractured and ripe for the taking.

You might notice there's another Francia now. The Carolingians have a funny tradition of cutting their country in half every time one dies.



That was fast. Basically, the Vikings have been kicking so much ass they reclaimed all their holy sites and reorganized the Norse religion. The Norse pantheon is now considered as legit as Christianity or Islam, and isn't just practiced by weirdo nationalists or lonely cat ladies anymore. Hanging virgins to appease Odin, that's a lifestyle choice and I respect that.



I've been busy propagating our dynasty in the meantime. This human couple had an ugly cat baby, but the husband still thinks the child is his.



Our first expansion across the channel is into Cornwall, which is going to become our HQ2 of sorts. Cornwall was historically founded by Breton princes from Cornouaille, hence the name. Arthur was also born in the castle Tintagil, which is an additional aesthetic bonus.

We spread out across Wales next. Isn't it beautiful? Even Caesar didn't divide and conquer Celts this good.



Did you ever hear the tragedy of King Jay the Wise? I thought not. It's not a story the Franks would tell you.

The king is dead, long live the king! This is our first ruler with martial education, and his traits... leave a little to be desired, but we can make it work.



Little throwback to Jay I. No man is without sin, and I confess that I have a horrible tendency of porking my daughters-in-law if given an opportunity. Since we're the same genetic stock, I consider this a victimless cucking. Our firstborn heirs are all legit, but these three sons here are actually my brothers.

Our character doesn't suspect a thing. We're gonna keep it that way.



Crit has been leading my armies for about 25 years without incident so far, but the moment I actually take control of him, we get a Welsh facial piercing.



The Queen of Gwynedd royally fucks up by losing an Anglo-Saxon liberation revolt, leading to the birth of some insignificant hellpit called England.

I watched this happen in real time and it was fucking disgusting. Red spread all over the place in seconds.



More good news for the people who love bad news. The Muslims have formed Hispania. Asturias is straight up gone bruh. And yes, that is fucking Sweden in the middle of all those Francias. Yes, that includes Paris.

You might also notice that England is now fucking huge. Most Anglo-Saxon lords swore fealty immediately and he doesn't really need permission for the rest. I'm still kicking myself that I didn't smother them in the cradle. Almost immediately after coming into existence, England has over three times as many men as we do, which is a massive blow to my self-esteem.



After her first husband died of pneumonia or something stupid, I married Maple off to some duke in the Alps, whereupon she was immediately carried off by vikings. We got her back though. This time I just married her off to a young nephew instead to keep her close.



All this aside, I'll admit that I was feeling badass after beating up on little petty kingdoms for the past sixty years. I get a cold, hard reality check to the nuts when I go to war against Leinster in Ireland and immediately get a conga line of war declarations in return.

Leinster is a lost cause and the war ends without result because of a liege change. The Irish, French, and Saxons decide they would really like my stuff, while my vassals decide this is a great opportunity to really fuck up the country long term, and also get my stuff in the process.

The new chief of Leinster actually joins me in my war against the Saxons and I seal our unexpected bromance by marrying his daughter to my heir Jay. West Francia also gets in on the fun, since killing Saxons is the only way they can get hard.

Our dipshit relatives, Prince Cereal among others, are the real concern. I could live with increased council power, but gavelkind is worse than getting AIDS.



We fend off the outside invasions and quell internal rebellion, but the pain train don't stop.



What's the first thing the English do after getting their own country in order? Subjugate the Irish! Anglos gonna Anglo.

This is our first war against England and we get curbstomped easy. Not only do they take the original land I wanted to expand into, but they also fucked up my plans for the inheritance.



Pop! It ain't all glum news. The Abbasids shit the bed and explode into a million pieces, but it's arguable if it's even worth the bordergore.



And we pass peacefully, no face and everything. We didn't expand, but we didn't destroy the country. I call that good enough.

King Jay II: Electric Boogaloo. Our ruler... doesn't suck! He's got some funk on his junk, but is otherwise anything you could ask for in an heir. The future looks bright for us despite adversities.

Immediate bad news? England has steamrolled almost all of Ireland really, really fast. It's becoming impossible to expand more across Britannia without taking on England directly.



King Crit of the Nasty-Gaping-Hole-in-Face, as he was known in the chronicles, is declared a saint by the Holy Church. Being a grotesque, warmongering, known murderer and philanderer, this only makes sense.



Here's your bright future. Any major disease like this is a threat when combined with my crotchrot issue. My physician, not blind this time, thankfully saves my life by hitting me with a pot of angry hornets. Never skimp on your health plan.



I would be trying to push our borders, and I do manage to snap up the Isle of Man, but I am constantly beset by heretic uprisings. Heresy is spreading all over Britain even faster than my syphilis. I suspect the reason is because our Pope is a dirty little altar boy fucker of some sort and is tanking Catholicism's moral authority.

The kingdom's bankrupted by the forever wars, and after I'm forced to borrow from Jewish bankers, I go bankrupt again. The Jews won't loan me any more money until I pay back what I already owe, so I just exile them all from Brittany and take their property.



At this point I officially lose my mind and replace my bruncle Stride on the council in favor of a horse, and then spend my Jew gold on horse armor.



I go bankrupt again, and there's no more Jews to take from, so we just lose to the Waldensians. Fuck me.



My second son, Prince Wild, flies from the nest to go to school and get a real job. I wish he'd call more, but I check on him later and he's conquered Denmark from the heathens.



We get our lost land back from the heretics, but the English pigdogs sniped a county before we could take all of it. It's generally a bad time to be Catholic, as instead of Middle Francia invading Swedish Paris like I expected, Swedish Paris is invading fucking Middle Francia.

Oh, and the pagans conquered Ireland from the Anglos. I wish I was shitting you.



This is my first time even seeing one of these fancy China scroll text windows and my only thought is wtf.



Don't want more kin, wear a lambskin.

In one of my deluded episodes, I may or may not have knocked up the Queen of Denmark, who may or may not also be my son's wife. In either case, Wild doesn't know any better.



Yeah! Uh... Ireland!

After some years of careful waiting, the Pomeranians get entangled in enough wars with the English and Franks that I feel safe making a move, declaring a holy war for Leinster. Right when I get all the lads together for a good pagan stabbing...



Bam. You never know when syphilis will strike.

AGH. HUMAN.

A decent military ruler, but gay, chaste, and our only child is dead from some backwards Middle Ages disease. It doesn't help our wife is almost over the hill, so our window is closing quickly.

Also not helping our fertility: leading troops. Spoiler alert, that's all I'm going to be doing my entire life.



It's hard fought. I hire Anglo-Saxon mercs to push us over the edge, but they got all testy about getting "paid" or some nonsense and tried to hack me to pieces with swords. Never trust an Anglo.



Yeah, what the fuck, right?



Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Seeing that my enemy's combat skill was 3, and my own combat skill was something like 23, I thought I'd come out of this one with all my parts.



With my dying breath, I call out... FUCK LEINSTER.

I... can't say I'm upset about this outcome, but we're still deep in shit. Rebels, heretics, heathens everywhere. Our country looks like it bled colors in the wash and our council is full of rough viking types.



Once again we cuck ourselves. This is our daughter/sister Rio... Ro... Riag...



Our relatives would absolutely break the country into little pieces if it means they get to be king of the bumpkins. The vikings and heretics are also as relentless as ever. We manage to put the rebellions down with a little help from an extra 800 levies from Denmark. I let Bloop and my other dynasty members live, but I stone the viking.



As soon as the war's over, I cut Denmark loose and pass it off to a hapless kinsman. Congratulations, buddy. The fledgling little kingdom is immediately torn apart by vikings like I expected and his Karling waifu gets carried off by the barbarians. Yeah, it's hard to watch.



My real firstborn daughter, Princess Ripped, strikes it lucky with a rare event chain and turns out to be a Jedi.

Over the course of her childhood, she
> drank a vial of poison and came out unaffected.
> strangled a snake in her crib.
> received a vision from God and started screaming passages of the Bible.
> taught herself Latin.
> killed an assassin with a fire poker.
> started a child army.
> beat one of my commanders in combat.
> killed and dressed a bear.



Our gold situation stabilizes enough that we can welcome the Jews back, so we can take more of their money.



As soon as the Lombard-Bavarian king reaches adulthood, he forms a bizarro world Holy Roman Empire that has nothing to do with Charlemagne or Germany. The de jure kingdoms would be all of Italia, Bavaria, and Austria. I'm honestly just shocked there's still Karlings and Lombards.



Catholics everywhere were tenting before, but now they're full crucifix. It's the 10th century, unlocking holy orders and Crusades, led by the Party Pope.



Sweden, the most hated of God's enemies. This is going to get ugly, and by ugly I mean it's going to be glorious.



Party Pope croaks, definitely for the best, but I couldn't help but feel a twinge of remorse. For all his faults, he's the one who got drunk enough to think this whole Crusade thing was a really great idea, and for that we owe him.

The new Pope puts his corpse on trial and then throws him in a river, all very beautiful and befitting.



Swedish France gets dicked from all of western Christianity and it's not long until all resistance collapses. Glorious Brittany and our good King Wild are the foremost participants in the war and our kinsman Slep gains the land held by the heathens.

Slep hates our guts for reasons I don't understand and immediately plots to kill us, but I'm happy with the result. We also get some fancy Church relics and a cool nickname.



Feels good to be a gangsta.



But there's still the after party. An English princeling with no hair on his balls comes by my castle and asks me to support his Kidz Krusade to Jerusalem, and all my advisors tell me no, but I love the fuck out of Jesus, so I say yes.

I don't actually expect them to even get to the Holy Land, but defying all rational explanation, they reach the gates of Jerusalem.



IF THE CHINESE DON'T GET THERE FIRST.

Seriously, what the fuck.



In the meantime, I've been busy fighting the Pomeranians and the English, and lose a hand (paw?) in the process. This barely affects me as a commander and fighter because I'm that much of a G. Our daughter Ripped comes of age, as well as our heir Rio Grande. I still have no trueborn sons but I think I'm okay with that.

After our war against England, I matrilineally betroth Ripped to a brother of the English king. Y'know, in the unfortunate case anything befell the current English king, and the English king after that. These things happen...



The Muslims actually lose against a mob of English street urchins and Jerusalem is taken for Christianity, with no military help from any other Christian power. I feel a kind of paternalistic affection for the little murdering tyke and hook him up with my daughter Princess Ash.



I have 800+ hours in this game and never actually caught the white stag until now. I'm crying.



The king is dead, long live the king. Boy Wonder, the Kid Crusader, inherits England. Thanks to barbaric Anglo-Saxon gavelkind, the Kingdom of Jerusalem passes to Ash's son Thurfrrithththth, while the Kingdom of England will pass to Princess Ripped's husband, whose children are Beatans.



Here's the thing. Our heir, Rio Grande, is betrothed to her uncle Slep to keep our titles in the family. But we know Slep isn't actually Rihanna's uncle, he's her half-brother.

Slep just wants to leave, but you can't leave, Slep. You can never leave.



More viking adventurers, literally at the same time. One is a woman. The other is the son of the last viking adventurer we stoned to death. I felt bad killing either of them, so just tortured them into insanity with my poetry instead.



Byzantines forced to pay tribute to China in the 900s. NERF PLS.

I thought my game rules would restrict this from being a possibility, but maybe I fucked up, or maybe China is just fucked up. There's wacky alt history, and funny alt history, and then this shit that's just stupid.



Denmark is finally erased completely. Once-King Crit is plugging some countess in Francia. His ex-wife is still a concubine to some guy with a dog on his head and a badass military commander.



There goes that Ripped, invading the Holy Roman Empire. I sat, amazed, as she sailed off with her host all the way to Lombardy, landed, and was immediately captured in battle, thus ending the war. I ransom her back and realize what it's like to be a disappointed parent.





The Pomeranians have been confined to a single duchy in the reclamation of Ireland, until... yupp, that's Saxony.

Scotland has been fending off constant viking invasions for the last century or so, but this time they really cracked.



It gets worse.



Here's our relatives, being asswipes as always.

There's still so much more to do, but with cancer, that's the end of the road lads.



Good night, sweet prince. You're slaughtering non-believers in the afterlife now.

All hail Queen Rio... Ri... Rea... All hail Queen Mistpelt!

Despite being a lady ruler, which carries the same opinion penalty as being a cannibal in this game, our vassals don't hate us that much.



The Muslims come back from their halftime huddle, ready to take back the Holy Land, and get punked by England in the same exact fashion for the second time in a row. I could see how the Children's Crusade could've succeeded with event troops, but I'm still scratching my head on how England won this on their own.



As much as I hate the Anglo-Saxons, I hate non-believers more. We carry on our father's work, purging the Pomeranians from Ireland and pushing into Saxon Scotland. I hate to say it's really convenient the pagans showed up and raped and pillaged everything, buuut...



Behold as a Francia undergoes mitosis. Middle Francia breaks in half and a fresh baby Burgundy pops out. Ripped's son happens to be married to the new queen, another plus.



Irish liberation revolts crop up all over the island and I get PTSD flashbacks to the liberation revolt that gave birth to England. I not only put down my rebellion, but England's rebellion too, 'cause fuck that shit.

Originally, I didn't want to create the kingdom title since all my kinsmen would try to murder me in order to inherit it. But out of fear of being further pipe bombed, I'll take my inbred idiot family over constant revolts.



This is my inbred idiot family fucking things up, as usual. While kicking the exiled Scots out of Northern Ireland, I'm also forced to juggle fighting my vassals and a viking adventurer.

I generally forgive my dynasty members and let them keep their heads and titles after treason, and that's probably a huge handicap to my success. I land my family whenever possible, even if they're scheming dickweasels who hate my guts, which is normally the case.



Muslim Hispania has been slowly creeping into southern France and is definitely the strongest Islamic power, as well as the strongest power in general on this side of the map. Aquitaine is exactly where I was hoping this next Crusade would be.



This sneaky fucker declares war on me and I don't even get a pop-up or anything.

Ungrateful little shit. I sponsor his Crusade, let him fuck my daughter, and he's going to throw that all away for Chester. HOW MANY TIMES DID I PLAY CATCH WITH YOU?

After thousands of ducats down the drain and calling in every ally I had, I managed to fight them to a draw and they give up.







YOU MANIACS! YOU BLEW IT UP!



I had my troops set aside for the Crusade, but while everybody else fucked off to Constantinople to ruin Christianity's chances permanently, I decided to stay home and hold my own holy war. We liberate Scoland from the pagans, becoming Queen of Brittany, Wales, Ireland, and Scotland.



In the winter of my years, the world is transforming around us. The Norse unlock Great Holy Wars (Crusade / Jihad equivalent), adventurers won't stop adventuring across Wales, our promising kin are dying, we've got cancer, and we're possessed by demons.



Cherry on the shitcake, the Muslims strike the gonads of Christian Europe and take down the Frankish Middle Child—Austrasia. That our first Francia down.



After ruling thirty years and restoring Ireland and Scotland, the realm just remembers us being fat.

Prince Falcon has evolved into Falking.

I can't help but notice that West Francia has absorbed Saxony and most of Denmark. Serves 'em right.



To my delight, Africa is embracing the true religion. A Catholic adventurer conquers Egypt from the Arabians, while Iconoclast Africa breaks free with a revolt. I figure the random presence of Orthodox here is a lingering memory of the Byzantines, and that just makes me sad all over again.



We're still settling into our rule when the neighboring Duke of Upper Brittany rises up against his liege. Fuckin' idiot. This exact situation is what I've been waiting the last 200 years for.

I immediately press our de jure claim on the land and roll in virtually unopposed. This gon' be good.



Haha you actually thought.



Hahahaha FUCK.

Most likely, it was one of our own kinsmen who got us killed. Meaning, it'd have to be, because our dipshit kinsmen hold just about every title in the kingdoms.

With our father Falcon dead, we're most likely next on the hitlist. Our stats are lacking, not to mention we're incurably gay.



My 71 year old sugar daddy dumps me and our family tries to kill us at a party, as usual. Great start.



The Sunnis declare a Jihad... against other Muslims on the most backwater part of the map, so it's nothing of consequence. West African paganism is pretty much wiped out at this point thanks to Hispania's constant bullshit, but the Africans seem to have taken a liking to the Yazidi flavor of Islam, which is apparently why they have to die.



We finish our father's work, restoring our rightful borders, and there ain't shit the Franks can do about it.



We're not out of the muck yet. I cheap out on my coronation in order to not bankrupt the kingdom when we're on the brink of civil war, but this apparently makes me a phony crapsack asshole.

I would sooner convert to Islam than adopt gavelkind. It's off to war again.



Not only is England holding Jerusalem against the entire Muslim world, but they invade Arabia and win.



My many, many, many silly cousins and in-laws just won't stop trying to kill me! :)

We handle these revolts and rank up our educational trait in the process, from Misguided Warrior to Skilled Tactician. That's what I call character development.



A couple things. It's kinda hard to take in.

1. The Muslim invaders in Austrasia just mugged the Holy Roman Empire and took Bavaria.
2. The Muslims also win the Jihad, but no one really notices.
3. Based Vikings crack open the great Minion-colored caliphate and take the old Christian kingdom of Asturias. As long as the pagans and Muslims are fighting each other, consider me one entertained son of a bitch.
3. West Francia is absolutely roided up.



Good thing for us the Pope isn't just sitting around with his thumb up an altar boy's ass. Austrasia's hold over the German lands collapses like a flan in a cupboard, and Popedaddy rewards us for being #1 in the Muslim-killing contest. They still hold Bavaria, but whatever, we're on a 30 year cooldown.



This is proof and testimony that the Beata dynasty won't just fuck up our own kingdoms, but also the kingdoms of everyone else. While the Carolingian king of West Francia was crusading in East Francia like a good Catholic, our relative Snake the Usurper starts a revolt back at home and steals the throne of France.

Due to Holy Fury mechanics I don't entirely understand, this causes the kingdom to split between France and "Crusader West Francia," which encompasses the old kingdom's lands outside France. Really, it should've been North and South Francia from the beginning, but what the heck do I know?



France, severely diminished under our inbred relative's rule, loses Poitiers to vikings. Hispania is having an even worse time of it, the vikings penetrating deeper into the Iberian peninsula and expanding from their base in the Mediterranean.



shiiieeet. I seal the gates real quick.

We are absolutely drowning in papal dough after several triumphant Crusades, and I've been pumping all that gold into the infrastructure of our kingdom. I've already built hospitals across Brittany, and now I'm frenziedly building them across Ireland, Wales, and Scotland.

Black Death is basically the apocalypse, but I figure with all the gold in the world, all I have to do is sit back for a few years and let it burn itself out.





What the fuck.



What the fuck.

Thanks to Paradox bullshit, we're now a bratty preteen, which shackles us to a regency council until we reach the mature, adept, and emotionally stable age of 16.

Our in-game regnal number is a little fucked up because of the way CK2 titles work. Even though this is our 3rd character named Slep, our first Slep was technically only Duke of Brittany (called Petty King because of Celtic culture).



Perhaps lucky for me, none of our dipshit family really wants to leave their castle to go outside and besiege mine, and I'm more than happy to hunker down for the next 5 years.

Plague reaches its peak in the Isles and begins to burn itself out, leaving as fast as it came.



A few relatives of ours hijack a kingdom from the Ruskies, while our noble father is declared a saint. Glory to the inbred Beatan clan.



They grow up so fast! Half our family being murdered by supernatural forces and half our kingdom being destroyed by plague has had absolutely no ill effects on me at all; I emerge from the regency period with no trauma, no major rebellion, and just a dash of healthy murderous rage.



'In terram Salicam mulieres ne succedant:'
'No woman shall succeed in Salique land:'

Snake, a testament to our dynasty's superior genes, manages to completely destroy the Kingdom of France when the title passes to a female kinsman. You'll notice back in the first screenshot that France was completely blown up for a few years, but the fragmented duchies have reunited under a Mr. Humbert de Melle. I imagine he restored the kingdom title as leader of a French liberation revolt against someone in our dipshit Breton family. It still doesn't look too pretty...



Oh Jesus Christ, it's even worse.



Crusader West Francia explodes, transforming the former realm of Charlemagne into assorted color diarrhea. It's fucking menacing to look at.



To show you the power of flex tape, I sawed this Caliphate in half!

The Christian adventurer in Egypt has not only managed to defend her rule, but spread her borders across the North African coast and into the Hispanian heartland of Andalusia. Meanwhile, the vikings have formed the coastal Kingdom of Sardinia and Corsica (and Asturias and Thouars and Balearic Islands).



Sardinia transfers hands from the vikings, to Burgundy, to the Knights Hospitaller.



Well, that didn't last long. Kingdom of... Corsica and... uh....



Feeling a good war, I start a campaign to clean up all the random splotches of England in our kingdom and fend off the recurring pagan invasions.

As delicious and vulnerable as all these French, Frisian, and German duchies are, I have zero interest into expanding any closer to the Muslims. My vassals can't help themselves however and throw themselves against the vikings at Thouars, expanding our borders into France without me having to lift a finger.



The Pope declares a Crusade for Aquitaine, FOR REALSIES THIS TIME, and it goes beautifully. The Ummayads are beaten back at the Pyrenees, and the Pope rewards our efforts by installing our kinsman.



Now that is genuinely pretty. A big purple buffer state between us and the infidels, led by our own kin. The Pope also slides us Baby Jesus' foreskin as a token of gratitude.



Slep comes back from the Crusade filled with the Holy Spirit, and starts killing fucking everybody. Nobody expects the Breton inquisition!

This is my first time actually forming a bloodline, which gives Slep the Zealot's direct descendants special bonuses and a unique casus belli.



An example of my fine zealotry is once again fucking my daughter-in-law, and this time, I get caught in the act.



The Muslims are not having a good time right now. The Shia actually take power in the Middle East, but they're about as bad at this jihad thing as their Sunni counterparts.



Continuing our campaigns against England and making mad ransoms. Apparently France and England hate me both so much they're willing to make common cause to stop me, which is a special hate. I hate them too.



We started construction of a grand royal palace back in the reign of Mistpelt, which I fittingly named WCC House. My vassals are still scheming dickweasels, even under a strong king, and you gotta use any means necessary to keep them in line.



Here is what remains of what we knew as West Francia. Enough generations had passed that this poor man had lost any sort of claim on the Kingdom of France, which I thought was a little silly, so I used console commands to grant him one. Not that I think he's going to be able to do anything with it, but a person needs something to hold onto to stay sane.

Burgundy has gobbled up much of Austrasia (what used to be Middle Francia) and cleaned up some of that horrible mess the Karlings and Saracens left behind.

East Francia was basically a rump state last we saw it, but its star may be rising, as the last of the true Carolingian kingdoms.



We depose the English king with the backing of the Pope, and then kick the English king's son's ass in Wales just to rub their Anglo faces in it.



Catholicism is going HAM in a way I've never seen before. Starting all the way back in 769, it's not unusual for Islam to roll over western Europe, or Norse pagans to take over the British Isles, but it seems Christianity is holding solid. Poor Orthodox is still hanging in there too.

Aldegonde the Great finally dies at 101, chewing up Mohammedans until the end. Probably the most amazing AI character I've ever seen.



I'm freed up to marry again by the old queen's passing, and I hook myself up with an exotic 17 year old descended from the Prophet Mohammed, as Christ would want.



My heart literally can't take it and bursts during coitus. Not even shitting you. It's a good way to go.

We're in a cozy position, powerful and wealthy, middle-aged with a full family lined up. Again, our regnal number is fucked.



Even though I am absolutely drowning in money, the Pope will only accept Baby Jesus' foreskin as payment for my coronation. Dick.



Between fighting England to the bloody death over Lancaster, which ends up dragging out much longer and more expensively than I anticipated, I dive into the secrets of the universe. Perhaps the world isn't a cheap terrarium on God's nightstand? Heresy!

For all the nonbelievers I've killed over the centuries, you'd think the Church would act a little more chill about this.



Catholic Egypt withstands another Jihad, and somehow, our dynasty comes into power there. Time will tell how fast and how hard they fuck up.



England and I are still strangling each other when the Pope declares a Crusade for Jerusalem. Being pious Catholics, we both pledge our swords to the Church, while still fighting each other.

England, with blue ally colors, was roaming around homeland Brittany burning and looting the countryside. This would have been a good time to call a white peace, but I had already invested so much time and ducats that I didn't want to call quits on a winnable war. I also couldn't miss the Crusade.

I decided, fuck it, and just sailed off to Jerusalem in the middle of the war. Big risk, but I figured the Crusade would be over before England could force me to accept peace. So I'm a little late to the party, but I still arrive, participate in a few battles even, and am leading the siege on Acre when the Pope DMs me. Boyfucker accuses me of being a no-show. Even though I have the Crusader trait?

This is all because they don't like my science experiments.



We aren't rewarded with land in Jerusalem, but the Rusky branch of the family is. They grant it to our brother Jay the Sword of the Blessed Virgin, and yes, you have to call him that every time you address him. At this point, I had already started to fuck off back to Brittany.



Our dickhole vassals in Ulster and Scotland declare independence while we're away. Ticking warscore was into the -90s before we landed back in Ireland. Ulster is slain on the battlefield, putting an end to the revolt, and we are able to enforce our demands on the English after liberating the occupied Breton counties.



The Latin Empire has officially been evicted from Greece and has married into Crusader West Francia, a fitting match if ever there was one.



FUCKING CANCER AGAIN.



The Earth is round, get dicked.

We're so many Sleps in a row that they start to blur together.

The world is shaping up better than the jumbled mess it was just a few decades ago. East Francia has probably benefited most from West Francia's implosion, reaching a new zenith.



Jay the Sword of the Blessed Virgin, unsurprisingly, dies by the sword.



I apologize for the eye-burning crops, it seems I was more stoned than usual when compiling some of these.

A couple things to untangle from all these jumbled text windows:

a). England selects its kings by agnatic seniority (eldest male in ruling dynasty). I have many generations of claims to the English throne through women that have gone to waste because I didn't realize it was absolutely impossible for a woman to gain the title, even by war.

b). When the Wihtwara dynasty ran out of eligible male heirs, the Kingdom of England passed to the most powerful vassal in the realm, who happens to be this Mukhtar Nasrid fellow. Good ol' fashioned Anglo-Saxon chap.

c). After declaring war on the previous king for Breifne, I had free reign to attack the new king of England again immediately after. Hooray!

As we're waging war against the English, something that should be a national pastime, traitors emerge from all sides. Ulster's independence faction rises again, a faction for some asshole kinsman's claim for Scotland, and even my own council turning against me. Also, I fucked my brother's wife, but that's par for the course.



It turns out having only one hand doesn't make you a great warrior. I'm captured in the field by the English, automatically ending the war, and the pain train doesn't stop there. I manage to fend off the Scottish pretenders and council revolt, but my diminished armies can't defend against the Ulster separatists.

To add insult to injury, I'm rendered old, frail, and now bedridden.







I'm busy putting down my own fires and think maybe I'll sit this Crusade out, until Popedaddy chastises me. Yessir, I'll go to Aquitaine..



I'm glad you're all killing the infidels and everything, but please, just let me rest.



You gotta lose sometimes.

Inoffensive at first glance, with a glorious mustache, until you see the syphilis and lunacy.



As expected, the Beatan kings of Egypt shit the royal linens, and lose simultaneous Jihads from the Sunni and Shia caliphs. They couldn't get all together for one big Jihad against Egypt because they'd kill each other first.



No longer old or one-handed, and now in possession of opposable thumbs, I can slaughter my enemies like never before. We immediately start the campaign to subjugate the lords who broke away during our father's reign, and bring them all back into the loving embrace of the crown.



Our mother, the Queen of Aquitaine, croaks, and her realm is joined to ours.

I... really don't know what to do with this much land.



Our acquisition of Aquitaine (say that x5 times fast) has put us way over our vassal limit, even with superdukes, forcing us to decentralize the realm. On a more personal level, we're batshit fucking crazy and keep getting naked and howling at the moon. The same event fired like 3 times.

Commanding troops against the English, who want to thwart my plans as always, annnd



SUDDEN SYPHILIS. It can strike at any time. Stay safe out there kids.