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I guess you can at least say, in Alexeia's defense, that mass-murdering any noble between her and the Imperial throne is less destructive than the coup d'etats and civil wars that historically tore Byzantium to shreds. There's an awful lot of suffering inflicted, but it mostly just affects a dozen or so noble families.

Let's just say that all are contributing their part to the Greater Good. Even if most contributions seem to be about keeping the undertaker profession busy. :p
 
Is it just me or does Alexia's husband look just like Will Farrell as Ron Burgundy?
 
This batch of assassinations was a bit less defensive, and a bit more... creative.

Oh I don't know, the assassinations seemed to be ordered so as to pre-emptively defend the nation from the no doubt awful reign of Konstantinos and his children. It is quite clear that Alexeia is motivated out of a love for her nation, she gains no personal benefit from her actions whatsoever!
 
Gosh. :eek:

"Stop Stabbing Me!" really is a good name for this story.

Some alternative titles might include: "A Fistful of Daggers," 'From Hell's Heart I Stab at Thee (Literally!)" and "Glory is a Murdering Poison."
 
Doux Eustratios I, also known as Eustratios I, Emperor-Consort of the Roman Empire

Eustratios, already Emperor of the Romans thanks to his marriage to Anthousa Ironside, became Doux of Paphlagonia at the age of 33. Not much had been expected of him—his mother’s plans had originally called for his brother, not him, to marry into the Doukid line to take the throne. Eustratios by all accounts was a rather charming man with a gifted tongue, however money flowed through his hands like a sieve, he could barely wield a sword, and he trusted everyone who came his way. (Diplomacy of 16, all other stats 7 or less)

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Fortunately for the Empire he did not rule, his wife Anthousa was made of sterner stuff. Her reign was to prove a high point in Roman history. She continued her father and grandfather’s campaigns, uniting Sicily as part of the imperial demense, extending Roman control up the Adriatic coast to Zachlumia, as well as bringing Derbent and Azeribijian under Roman suzerainty. By all accounts she was a grace to behold, blessed with a gifted tongue, and a mind gifted for coin. Legends say she even mounted and rode into battle. Altogether, she was perhaps one of the most fascinating women of the Middle Ages.

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But alas, we are here to discuss Eustratios, her husband.

Anthousa publicly said she posed no ill will to her husband for the actions of her mother-in-law, but in private things were very cold. Eustratios began his reign as Doux by sending his Chancellor to warm the ice in his wife’s veins—to good effect, it seems. He was welcomed with good graces to court in time for Christmas of 1170. As she launched campaigns far and wide, Eustratios concentrated on affairs at home. He built a new castle at Aulaeitichus in Thrake. As time went on, some of Anthousa’s better habits started to wear off on her previously lackluster spouse. Eustratios became a patron of the arts, commissioning a great icon of St. Paul that was placed in the Hagia Sophia in 1179. He slowly began to take a role in the life of his eldest son Daniel, heir to the throne, as well. The blades of his mother’s famous assassins seemed to be sheathed, as the Roman Empire spent Anthousa’s reign peaceful and prosperous.

In 1183, Anthousa Ironside, probably the greatest of the Doukid dynasty, passed away, leaving the imperial throne in the hands of her 14 year old son. Of all Anthousa’s endeavors, her son, personally educated by her, was perhaps her greatest failure. Daniel was a slothful, gluttonous boy who knew little of how to deal with people and retreated to the kitchens to deal with his lack of social graces. Duchess Alexeia might have rolled in her grave at seeing such a waste of flesh as the height of her years of planning, but Eustratios, surprisingly, did his best to step in and help his hapless son.

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In a moment the Doux went from behind the shadow of a great ruler to being the single most powerful defender of a young and defenseless emperor. Eustratios moved his court once and for all to Constantinople to be closer to his young son, and dispatched his spymaster to court in Thessalonike to help watch over the boy. To further solidify his son’s rule, Eustratios then married the Duchess of Anatolia, Aikaterine Doukas, granting the young emperor another alliance against what promised to be a tide of Doukid anger at losing the imperial throne.

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But all wasn’t peaceful on the home front. Alexeia’s numerous diplomatic marriages meant that the court of Paphlagonia was overflowing with young Komnenoi, all eager to gain a title. In order to make his cousins be quiet, Eustratios granted several of them castles in his domain, including his new fief at Aulaeitichus. Peace at home was no guarantee of peace in the empire, and on November 4th, 1184, Eustratios received a herald from his sister-in-law, Duchess Dionysia of Sicily, calling for him to honor his alliance with the Doukas family and overthrow his 15 year old son.

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And so would begin the first of the Doukas-Komnenos civil wars that would define a generation.

The rebels were vast and numerous—Vidin, Turnovo, Nikaea, Samos, Sicily, Cherson, Armenia, Epieros, and Athens all rose in support of Dionysia Doukas’ claim to the throne. In contrast, the generals in charge of young Daniel’s war effort proved lackluster at best, choosing to concentrate their armies in far off Armenia while rebels besieged the imperial palace in Thessalonike. Losses amongst those loyal to the Komnenoi, few and far between as was, rapidly mounted, and It seemed as if Alexeia’s grand dream would die before it even had a chance to bloom.

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Until, according to legend, an ancient, decrepit Apollonios reminded his lord that there were more ways to end a war than on the battlefield—advice the now openly craven Eustratios eagerly took. The aged spymaster made a few arrangements with some old friends, and Princess Dionysia’s rebellion ended when a knife slipped between her ribs. The rebels, on the cusp of victory, instead returned their levies home, stunned into silence... for the moment.

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While the Prince of Cyprus launched his own quixotic campaign for the throne, Daniel reached maturity, and on the advice of counselors, sought to enacted stronger imperial laws regarding vassals. While the move would prove unpopular, in light of Dionysia’s revolt, it appeared necessary. Despite being such a vassal himself, Eustratios eagerly agreed to these changes. Eustratios also began a more active role in supporting his son’s rule, even launching an expedition to Sicily to defeat rebels while his son dealt with the miscreant Cypriot lord.

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An older and much wiser Eustratios also began planning for the future, when his son would inherit his lands. To these ends, the Doux began to stockpile cash for his son’s inheritance, while also building a new castle at Leontopolis in Paphlagonia to replace the lost castle at Aulaeithicus. When the Duke of Samos initiated a war to lower crown authority, Eustratios not only raised levies to support his son, he also sent assassins to kill the Doux of Thrake and his own wife Aikaterine, both leaders in the plot against Emperor Daniel II. Happily, this latest war also allowed Eustratios to usurp the title “Doux of Thrake,” finally lending legitimacy to his claims to Thrake and Byzantion.

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Daniel II married into the Kometopoulos dynasty, and soon had three daughters and a son, Ioannes. Another son would follow later. By all accounts, Daniel was a middling ruler at best, adequate in the field and quick to react to plots, but not the best with coin or diplomacy. Nonetheless, by age 29 he had already earned the moniker ‘Megos,’ for reasons neither Eustratios, nor I, could fathom. Perhaps it had to do with how the nobility, after over a decade of nearly constant infighting and civil war, finally knelt and agreed to the emperor’s demands for more authority in 1199.

Daniel’s triumph was short lived, however, for he passed away barely a year later of pneumonia during the midst of a rebellion by the Doux of Chariason. The diadem, as well as the hopes of the Komnenoi, passed onto the shoulders of his son, the boy-emperor Ioannes.

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Shortly after this news came another thunderbolt—Muslims, launching a fierce counterattack against the Levantine holdings of the Franks, had driven them into the sea. Only the Duke of Aleppo remained as a tiny buffer between the squabbling Roman Empire and the resurging crescent of Islam. The Roman world needed a steadying hand, a strong hand, to help guide the infant emperor through the coming storm. Eustratios tried his best, sending money to his young grandson to support his armies, and waging side campaigns while the main imperial host was busy.

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However, time had an appointed moment marked for Eustratios, and that moment arrived on May 12th, 1208. The 72 year old Doux, having lived a full life and emerging from the shadows of two of the greatest women in Roman history, choked to death in the midst of a great feast in Constantinople. He left his lands, and his immense coin and armies, in the hands of a 10 year old…

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OUT OF GAME – I actually cheat-killed Eustratios. The old man showed no signs of slowing down at 72, and the AI was clearly failing at running a smooth monarchy. In both Daniel’s reign and the start of his son’s, the AI would release openly rebellious vassals from jail (whereupon they would, surprise surprise, immediately rebel), and make white peace with OPM Muslims next to the empire, incurring the wrath of all of the nobility. I actually had to step in several times and run the Empire as Ioannes to keep the AI from self-destructing this way. After the third time of loading a save just to “be Ioannes for a day” to save his butt, I decided enough was a enough, and forced the stubborn Eustratios off the stage so I could run the empire full-time.
 
Maybe this is a dumb question, but how are the Basileus and Emperor of Byzantium two different people? Basileus = Emperor, doesn't it?
 
Hehe, I can understand you did that. :p at that age he'd die soon anyways, but it might have been another decade too.
 
Maybe this is a dumb question, but how are the Basileus and Emperor of Byzantium two different people? Basileus = Emperor, doesn't it?

It's the same title.
 
Certainly an 'interesting' update, in the Chinese meaning of the word. There is no peace within the Empire, and now the Muslims threaten...

I kinda feel for poor ol' Eustratios - dominated by formidable women throughout the beginning of his life, and then forced into the role of protector for a bunch of hapless heirs. All the trouble, yet none of the glory, for Eustratios. And then you go and kill him because he's living too healthily. :p

I see your point, though: you can't afford that kind of AI behavior, especially if the Muslims are becoming a threat (I had been somewhat suprised by the apparent lack of foreign meddling in the Empire in the preceding decades, but that seems to be coming to an end soon). Well, good luck with your 10-year-old Emperor... Here's hoping the boy has a good spymaster by his side. :)
 
I'm guessing little Ioannes will soon be unsheathing his great-grandmother's knives... a lot of them.

Komnenos: The House Of Flying Daggers

Sorry, couldn't resist. :) Yes, I imagine either little Ioannes will start the murdering, or he'll be murdered himself shortly.