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“My Duke?”

“Ooooh, my head. What time is it?

“Nearly vespers, actually. Did you enjoy the celebration last night, my liege?”

“*groan*”

When Duke Diederik recovers a bit from his post-Duchy-gaining party hangover, he checks out the pile of mail that’s been accumulating while Loon’s attention has been focused elsewhere.

“Hey, what’s this? One of those over-sized political ads?”

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“A Crusade! Excellent! I love these things. Marshal! Dispatch the Loonish Special Ops Squad, post-haste! Time is of the essence!”



*about a year later*


“Ok, they should be about there by now. Court Wizard! Begin the teleportation incantations!”

*blip!*

“Sire? Sire! Is that really you?”

“Yes. How are things?”

“Oooof. Well, this pan-European hike was fun and games up to about Stuttgart…. I’ve had a rock in my shoe for the last 400 miles, I think…. But luckily we’re almost there. It should only be a matter of weeks, now.”

“What?! We’re not there yet? Hmph. Bunch of slowpokes. I ain’t walking for no couple of weeks! I’m the Duke, and I say we’re here! To arms!”

“Um, sire? We technically aren’t at war with the holder of this province…”

“Hey, who’s the Duke, you or me? I said, ‘to arms!’”

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Despite Diederik’s confusion/ambivalence as to the target of this Crusade, the Loonish forces dig in for a siege.

As you can see, the Crusade (-92% warscore) is going rather badly for the old Pope. (Maybe that’s why the game let me try out my luck against the Byzantines instead!)

So why did I go to the effort of marching an army clear across Europe to be here?

Here’s why:

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Diederik’s now a bona fide Crusader, baby. He gets a healthy Martial stat boost, but the best part is a +30 relations bonus with fellow Crusaders! I make sure to send my ruler, heir, vassals, and their heirs into “battle” every Crusade to get this bonus. Seriously, you just have to stand around in a target province for a few days and you get the badge.

Sadly, the Caliph smells fresh Christian meat all too soon.

"Oh, um, hey guys! Just, um, visiting our friends the Byzantines, that's all... *nervous laugh*"

"Die, infidels!"

"Whoa, wait, can't we talk this over *erk*-"

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“Yowch! That hurt like a mutha!”



Diederik is insta-teleported back to Loon.

*blip!*

“Sire! You’re back!”

“Yep! Check out this nifty shield I got! It has a cool cross and everything!”

“A shield? But, tell me, how did the Crusade go – is the true faith victorious??”

“Oh, heck no. But check it out, +2 Martial! Aw, the guys are gonna love it when they see this! Anyway, what’s up?”

“We were just perusing the Dynastic Map Collection, sire. Look, your nephew Ludwig stands in line to inherit the Barony of Cholet, over in France.”

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“And your own son, Emmo, is the Baron of Stahleck, just one province over!”

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“Hey, we’re doing pretty good! What about this one?”

“Ah. Tis your realm, sire.”

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“Hmmm… Looks kind of funny for some reason. It’s not … connected. Can we get it connected?”

“Well, sire……”

“What about this ‘Kleve’ place? It looks nice.”

“Ah, well, that’s a province of the Duke of Brunswick, sire….”

“Not for long, sucka! To arms!”




After many weeks of dilly-dally and inconsequential skirmishes, two titanic armies prepare for a knock-down fight in none other than Loon County itself.

The Loonish army, aware of the defensive bonus provided by rivers, tries to entice the slightly-numerically superior Brunswickians to cross over…

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However, tipped off by the crazed grins and low, sinister chuckling of half the Loonish Council, the Brunswick Army turns tail and runs.

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Reinforced by some friendly mercenaries (hi, guys!), the Loonish army sets off in pursuit. Count Rutger and his Brunswick Bastards are cornered in Braunschweig.

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They are mercilessly crushed.

The war ends in victory!

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One day, a short time later….

“Sire! A royal letter, emblazoned with the Imperial seal has just arrived!”

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“Whoa. Imperial Chancellor? Me? Wow, that’s big time, dude. I must be pretty dang awesome!”

“Oh, I’m so happy for you, my liege. Shall we send a reply right away?”

“Ye- wait. Hold on a sec. Gotta do something first…”

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*click*

“Ok, go ahead and hit 'Accept' now.”

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“Oooohhh….I see what you did there, sire. Sneaky. But won’t your admirers think it’s a bit, er, well, … gamey?”

“Hey, that’s nothing! Did you see what I did back there during that Crusade??”



Diederik, hanging out at the Court of the Holy Roman Emperor:

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“Wow, this is so cool! So, what do we do around here? I brought tons of pens and parchment; want me to get started Fabricating a Claim on Morocco or something?”

“Nah, chill out, dude. We don’t really do much work here; it’s just kind of for show, you see. We do have a lot of killer parties, though. In fact, the Grand Tournament is coming up in just a few days!”

“Oooh, cool! I’ve always wanted to be in a Grand Tournament! Have you see my sweet Crusader shield? It has a cross on it! Where do I sign up??”




The day of the Tournament arrives.

Alas, it proves to be a day of sorrow for Loon.

Diederik’s love of that flimsy little shield proved to be his downfall….

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Stupid shield.
 
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Impressive feat indeed. It's probably impossible to calculate the odds of this happening...
 
You're doing very well indeed with the little dynasty of Loon. Seems they have a great future ahead of you. Are you going to aim for Frisia or Lotharingia as your first Kingdom title? Seems wise to try to focus yourself either North for Frisia or South for Lotharingia from this point onwards.
 
You're doing very well indeed with the little dynasty of Loon. Seems they have a great future ahead of you. Are you going to aim for Frisia or Lotharingia as your first Kingdom title? Seems wise to try to focus yourself either North for Frisia or South for Lotharingia from this point onwards.

Ah, I like the way you think....
 
Sadly, my dear father's time on this earth was too short. But fear not, my subjects. I, Diederik the Second, pledge to finish his work and lead the van Loons to everlasting glory for many, many years to come!


Behold, my visage and realm (well, most of it):

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I already have a son and heir, but he's just a little guy. I expect my reign to be quite long, but all the same an extended period of regency and possible instability that would result from my untimely demise is not desirable, so I pick my capable Aunt Liedwin as heir.




Mein Emperor passes me a note during Dad's funeral:

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Hey, whaddaya know, I must be a chip off the old block!



The Emperor tells me that my first duty is to report directly to the front lines of the new war the accursed Danes. Seems like an odd way to use the Chancellor, but, well, the Emperor is the Emperor, so I guess he must know what he's doing.


I'll just grab poor old Dad's trusty shield and jump right in. To arms!
















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Curses.

You don't think the Emperor has it in for us van Loons, do you?
 
Hah... they're getting better at untimely deaths! Time for some raving lunatic successors I'd think...
 
Well, I certainly didn't expect to be with another new ruler so soon! Luckily, I had a decent heir in Liedwin. She's old Count Emmo's daughter (Diederik I's sister and Diederik II's aunt). Quite respectable stats.

First order of business: get a hubby! No good matrilineal marriage prospects are available; but, really, I'm 40 years old. Probably no more kids, so doesn't really matter. The Duke of Holland is available; he's close enough to lend some timely support in case I need it.

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Next: pick out my heir. As ever, the top priority is superb diplomatic skills. My niece Cecily, Diederik I's daughter, takes the cake. Looks like Koln may have a string of Duchesses; go girl power!

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I notice something strange when perusing my Council:

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Ursula is Diederik I's widow and Diederik II's mother. Now, the rule I always heard on females appointed to the Council is that they can only be appointed to Spymaster and only if they are your wife or mother. Evidently, you can "inherit" female spymasters as well! Given Ursula's godly sleuthing and scheming ability, I'm not complaining.




Alrighty, time to get on with this reign. The Duchy of Koln stagnates in its borders ... the van Loons need more elbow room. Let's see... oh, look, Brabant is rather -

"Ah - choo!"

Oh, bless you, Liedwin. As I was saying, Brabant -

"AH - CHOO!"

My goodness, that is quite the cold you have there. You okay, I hope?


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"Sorry, just a case of the sniffles."

Ok, good. For a minute there I thought -

"ERK!"

Uh-oh. That didn't sound too good.


















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Oh great. Here we go again!
 
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I guess there's an imminent danger of running out of heirs now...
 
“Duchess Cecily, milady, you simply must come out of there!”

“Never!”

“But you are the Duchess! People look to you for leadership, for inspiration! You cannot remain hidden in the kitchen pantry for weeks on end!”

“I shan’t leave! If I do, the Curse will get me!”

“Oh, not again with the curse…”

“But it’s true! Look at this:”

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“1110: father, dead! 1111: brother, dead! 1112: Aunt Liedwin, dead! It’s the Curse of the van Loons, and I’m next! Aaaaiiiieeeee!”




Several weeks pass. Cecily remains locked in the pantry, subsisting only on a vast quantity of cheeses seized during the old Julichian War. Confusion grows in the Loonish countryside. Why has the new liege not yet held the traditional Coronation Pudding Feast, nor released the ceremonial Loonish Duck of Peace?

The Council fears widespread unrest if the situation is not resolved quickly. Cecily’s little sister, Iudith, is summoned to try to soothe the Duchess’s fears….

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“Cec? It’s me, Iudith. Won’t you please get out of there?”

“No way! The Curse will get me!”

“Oh, there isn’t a curse, silly. Just a string of bad luck.”

“Well, if you don’t believe in the Curse, then why don’t you be the Duchess? Smarty-pants.”

“Um, I guess I can be your heir, but you can’t just abdicate. They haven’t added that option to the game yet. You’re Duchess til you die.”

“Exactly! After the Curse gets me, it will get you, too! But I have a plan…if I just eat enough of these cheese wheels, then ….”



Cecily’s plans, devoid of reasoning or sanity, truly disturb the Council.

In a last-ditch effort, they summon Koln’s neighboring ruler and old high school confidant, Duchess Binhilde of Upper Lorraine.

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“Hey, Cecily, it’s Binhy. Look, I don’t know why they wanted me to come over here. You wanna go to the mall or something? There’s a sale at Gap.”

“Binhy? Hey, girlfriend … thanks for the offer, but I can’t. There’s a Curse and I haven’t eaten enough cheese yet. I sent for some more, but the Court Steward says it might be a while…”

“Hmph. Well, maybe I’ll just go with Justin then.”

“Justin?! But he’s going out with - ”

“Nope, they broke up last month. He’s all mine now!”

“WHAT!?! I called dibs way back during Junior year!”

“Yeah, well, you’re stuck in a pantry. What are you gonna do about it? Hehehe… see ya, toots.”

“Hey get back here! Binhy? …. GUARDS! GET ME OUT OF HERE! THAT LITTLE TROLLOP'S GOING DOWN!”

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Take that! (This war is entirely uneventful, btw. It's getting to be almost too easy....)


Her fear of curses lost in fury at her former friend, Cecily prepares a killing blow at Breda, the last remaining demesne county of Binhilde.

But before the claim on Breda is finalized, however, a note arrives from the Emperor:

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Uh-oh. Does this mean…

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Drat. No more wars against fellow Empire subjects.

This seriously puts a knocker in our plans.





Cecily fumes and sputters for a long while at not being able to exact revenge on her neighbor. But time heals all wounds, and soon Cecily has a new passion in life: gardening.

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She really gets into it.

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I mean, REALLY, gets into it. Like testing-out-manure-from-various-animals into it.



But, unfortunately, a long period of time cooped up in a dusty old pantry, a diet of ancient cheese, and an obsession with animal fecal matter apparently lead to a little bit of hardship on the ol' lungs.

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The Curse of the van Loons?

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Only time will tell…