You Godwin son, and you lose some: A Family Saga

After the death of my wife, and her failure to produce my a legitimate heir, I've returned to looking through the daughters of Norman lords. Sadly it'll be a few years before any are up for marriage.

Since my conquest of the daughters of my sworn enemies has been put on hold, I've informed my heralds to spread the word. The Duchy of Pom..er.. uh.. We're going to war!

I need to expand my base here in these slavic wastelands, to fuel my later military actions back in England.

Marshall, display the map.








As you fine gentleman can see, the neighboring territory directly to my west as been retaken by dirty pagans. This land was normally part of the Duchy of Knud Knytling seems to have had a problem with that leadership and broken away.

We will use their recent independence to our advantage, the expansion of our Duchy will be realized.



The Marshal and 499 of his best men leave the province of..slus.. Slushpuppy? Who names these places? Er, as he leads our valiant soldiers to conqueror the Pagans it seems all of greater Denmark's armies have also been raised.

I wonder why.



Oh. Well after winning a glorious battle pitted against the pagan menace, all of Denmarkdom showed up annexed the land and gave it back to Knud.

And we get nothing. Great. Frikkn Knytlings, think they own the place.

What's that Courier? An urgent message?! Quickly bring it here.







WHY AM I BEING TOLD THIS?!

*Left hand twitches*

The NORMAN is not my son! I swear Courier, if this is all the news you have..

What?!






William the Usurp, has died. His son Bob now sits in my father's throne. And what a son he is!

Look at those cheeks?! They're huge, they're in his ears..like giant facial puss balls. And that nose! It's like some sort of hideous thumb coming out of his face.

Well Bobby-boy, (who also happens to be sonless?!) Your strange facial handicaps will not slow me down, nor invoke and amount of mercy within.

You...or your descendants, will get theirs!

Er, what's that Courier? Why are you still here?! No, I don't talk to myself often. What?

...WHAT?

..mom?






The Pom..er Something Times - In the month of August of the year 1100 of our Lord Baby Jesus, the venerable Countess Eadgyth Swan-Neck died in her bed. An Anglo-Saxon noble, she was once Queen-Consort to Harold the II of England, before his defeat and death at the hands of William the Conqueror and the Normans. She is survived by her two sons, Harold and Ulf. And various mostly illegitimate grand-children. Her inheritance fell to her favorite child Harold. Her other son, being a known pansy, got nothing. (Continued on page A-3)




Page A-3: A State Funeral was held for the late Countess. In attendance were her two sons, as was their Cousin Skuli. Seen as the matriarch of the few remaining Godwinesons, she will be greatly missed.

She was born in 1033, she was 67 years old.




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Sorry about last time everyone. Things got a little mushy there towards the end. That's not exactly the Saxon way. I was born in 1066, a month after my dad died. Mom was all I ever knew.

But that's enough of that! For any Saxon may cry; so long as he follows it up with rampant killing.

Marshal! The Map!



Previously I had only two counties to call men from. And the "people with a shield with a blue line through it" had two counties as well, which made the odds a bit too even for me. However now that I have added my mom's territory to my own, the balance should be tipped in my favor.

Marshal, ready my horse.







Sorry, I'd show you the battles...but Denmark was coming hot on my heels and I had to end things fast before they pulled another 'Knud' on me.

Take my word for it, it was awesome.




The new Duchy of Pom..er...of New Angloland!

As you can see, I make a mean 17 shinnies a month. Denmark's plans to yoink me were cut short.

(Don't know if you've ever been yoinked by a man with a Club-Foot, but let me tell you - a few ice bags wont be enough)







Looking over potential brides again, a cursory look tells me she will make an excellent candidate, an only child of a count.

Now I'll just wait a few years...






So a few days ago I found my sso...sooo...

...

No doubt he's a Norman now.




​

Guess he figured out I'm not coming.








After waiting 2 years, Valdrade de Bohun was at last ready to marry me. The wedding was set and I traveled to Denmark for the ceremony. As our Bishop began to read the marriage rites, my wife to started yelling for some one to stop.
At first I thought she had decided to call the wedding off, however I then realized she was yelling not at the Bishop but the vacant area to her immediate left.

Apparently a demon who for many years has refused to stop "undressing her with his eyes", had showed up at the wedding to do just that. And she was not going to let him ruin her special day.





I got the hell out of there.















See? That's how a Saxon child grows up.

Hardcore.







I still really have no idea how a Norman and Saxon made a Western Slavic. But either way, her genes are kicking in too.

Don't worry Maria, I'll find a good place for you. That is if you don't off yourself, like a good little Slavic.











Really? That's how you feel?

Because if you do..










I could always use more piety.



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And​

Lose
Some​

Today as I walked through my Castle, Godwinberg. I noticed something on the wall, most entirely horrifying. Were it not for my strong, vibrant Godwineson constitution, I would have assuredly died on the very spot.

I will now display for you, what I saw. Pregnant women, children, and the weak of heart, please look away for your own safety. What you are about to see would cause the most hardened and dazed crack-harlot, to blow chunks.














Some one painted his portrait.

*Left arm twitches*







It seems Se...Serrr...
...It seems The Norman has flowered into a young women finally.

The matter regarding him is very complicated. For my efforts to secure an heir to a Norman lord did succeed in some regards. The Norman is the heir to the count of Hereford.

When the Count, who is 10 years older than me, dies...I will lose all control of The Norman. And should he breed...well let's just not go there right now.

I do know what will cheer me up though.








Looking at Ulf's Fugly worthless Pansy son! Hahahaha. Ahh, just look at that face.

The worst part is, he looks JUST like his mother.

Ah Ulf, if it weren't for your hair and squinty eye's, I'd be sure we weren't related.







​

Speaking of being of father, here is the girl I nearly married. Before realizing she was utterly insane.

The problem is, I actually planned on marring her younger sister. Who is almost 16 now.

My Doctors explained to me that 'Temperate', 'Schizophrenic', girls have a fertility rate of -6. I assumed that meant she would never have a child, and die young.

As you can see, that is not true. And in order to protect the inheritance of any children I have with her younger sister...she can never have son.


I'll check up on her later. Talking to my own son...it's made me think of family.






My cousin, Skuli. You might remember him from the funeral. In that Norwegian court he'll never get married.

There must be something I can do for him.
What was it Ghost-Dad told me?

Godwineson's always look after their own.

Hmm. I think I might have exactly what Skuli needs.








My Daughter.


Well, see Maria? I told you I'd find a good purpose for ya, Western Slavic or not! And look, the old lug is lustful! How exciting for you.

Take good care of your Uncle



Ah, doing good deeds always puts things in perspective.




Now, I'll just marry the Crazy lady's younger sister. Despite how ugly she looks.

I'll have to make sure her crazy sister's baby wasn't a fluke...





Nope, she's pregnant again. Oh well, nothing a little 'diplomacy' can't fix.

Hmmm. Well now that they know I tried, no point in stopping.

Godwineson ho!



'Diplomacy' is strangely satisfying, perhaps I should use it more often.

Now to tell the good news to my new wife.


Honey? Honey...?! Where are you dear? Big Wubby bubby bear gots some newws!

Oh there she is...







...

That's definitely not the condition I left her in.



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