“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?”
“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!’”
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:
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*-"
“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.”
“And your own son, Emmo, is the Baron of Stahleck, just one province over!”
“Hey, we’re doing pretty good! What about this one?”
“Ah. Tis your realm, sire.”
“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…
However, tipped off by the crazed grins and low, sinister chuckling of half the Loonish Council, the Brunswick Army turns tail and runs.
Reinforced by some friendly mercenaries (hi, guys!), the Loonish army sets off in pursuit. Count Rutger and his Brunswick Bastards are cornered in Braunschweig.
They are mercilessly crushed.
The war ends in victory!
One day, a short time later….
“Sire! A royal letter, emblazoned with the Imperial seal has just arrived!”
“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…”
*click*
“Ok, go ahead and hit 'Accept' now.”
“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:
“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….
Stupid shield.