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It does indeed sound like a real tussle of a civil war.

That seems quite the civil war going on in England too.
 
Oof! That's CKII for you, 3 major Civil wars (You, Russia and England) at the same time... Quite Impressive.
the script might have been mistake
I'm not a native english speaker, so I might be wrong, but shouldn't it be "mistaken" rather then "mistake"?
Over forty thousand men
Unless I'm doing my math seriously wrong, it would just under 36000, not 40.

Are those blackshirt somehow represented in the game? Or are they pure invention for the purpose of the narrative?
 
It does indeed sound like a real tussle of a civil war.

That seems quite the civil war going on in England too.

England is just being England. The Union has the most stable dynasty (other than Japan but they're not on the map, eh), both politically and in-game, with exactly zero lasting rulership shifts. France and Poland are next, having shifted dynasty once, and most states have shifted a couple of times... and then there's England, who have changed dynasties since the beginning of the game a whopping five times in less than three centuries. They'll make TV shows about English political instability one day.


Oof! That's CKII for you, 3 major Civil wars (You, Russia and England) at the same time... Quite Impressive.

I'm not a native english speaker, so I might be wrong, but shouldn't it be "mistaken" rather then "mistake"?

Unless I'm doing my math seriously wrong, it would just under 36000, not 40.

Are those blackshirt somehow represented in the game? Or are they pure invention for the purpose of the narrative?

That is indeed the actual number given by the game. I inflated it a little because the battle went on for two full months in the heartland of Imperial territory, so it seemed reasonable to assume that you'd get a couple thousand more straggling on from here and there as sub-groups or the like.

As for your second question: Interestingly enough, yes. The Norse culture (and its offshoots of Norwegian, Swedish, and Danish) get a special building called the Housecarl Training Ground, which provides a number of heavy infantry and gives all heavy infantry raised from that province a damage buff. Jafnadgr has that building at level five, its highest possible level, which gives 180 heavy infantry (before bonuses) and gives all heavy infantry raised from the province a staggering +60% bonus to damage. In total, as of Sigurd II's reign, Jafnadgr can raise 1,200 heavy infantry at full strength. To show just how remarkable that is in 1174, I've attached images of other European capitals top levy with Jafnadgr.
 

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Part Six
On the Road to Tomorrow

"Execution? No. I bear no ill will towards Harald nor the Knytlings, and to kill him would make me look weak and afraid."

Sigurd the Second spoke with an authority that poorly matched the soft young features of the tall, slender youth who spoke them. In many ways, Sigurd II bore little resemblance to his namesake of a mere few centuries ago. Certainly, he was tall, with a commanding aura, bright blonde hair, and shining blue eyes, but he had none of the stocky, aggressive countenance of Sigurdr. In the place of bulky musculature and fiery, random movements, Sigurd II is leanly refined, his eyes narrowed and cautious, his beard well-trimmed by attendants. His voice, though firm, is soft and low. He bears more resemblance to the image of Augustus than that of his own tribal ancestors.

"It would be far weaker to do nothing. We cannot allow him to return to Denmark, at the least." Eigil, the head of the Blackshirts, seemed far more like a child of Sigurdr than Sigurd himself did. His beard was more gold than platinum and his eyes close to steel than azure, but he was composed of all the broad muscle and old scars that Sigurd's clean form lacked. Yet it was Eigil who answered to Sigurd, bowing his head in respect and submission.

"No, of course not. He will be made to abdicate, and the crown of Denmark given to the next in line. But - hmm. I suppose I could banish him to the colonies."

Eigil stroked his bushy, rough beard. "You could, my Fylkir. It would be a compromise, and some in the Assembly may not like that. But it would work."

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The colonies in Vinland and Greenland have grown over the years. Months of travel make communication with islands past Greenland remarkably difficult, far more so than contact even in the Baltics or Finland, but both support thousands of Imperial citizens with little to no imports of food or supplies from the prosperous motherland. Few migrate west of their own volition, but even fewer leave the colonies once they've arrived, and so the population grows steadily - if slowly, due to constant scuffles with Skraeling and alien wildlife. The small population and constant struggle of the colonies present few of the luxuries of life as nobility in the Union, but it is more than possible to carve out a comfortable living there; certainly more so than years wasted away in a dungeon cell. Given the size and leverage of Harald's rebellion, it is a tremendously merciful fate.

Sigurd has more important business to attend to than the details of a failed usurper's punishment.

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The Union is close to shattering entirely. The loss of territory has shrunk the Union's borders on all fronts, with land lost to Poland, France, Russia, and the League. The King and Queen of Bohemia and Finland respectively have since declared themselves independent - and the king of Lithuania, cornered against Russia and cut off from the imperial heartland in the wake of lost territory, is on the verge of doing the same. Sigurd's attentions immediately turn to restoring what he can. Envoys are sent to Bohemia.

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Bohemia is, once again, a warzone. King Boleslav, nominal ruler of Bohemia, sparked an intensive civil war with his attempt to secede from the Union. In the north, a loyalist count took up arms against Boleslav himself - while the ethnically distinct Moravians of the east declared the Duchess Marketa rightful ruler of Bohemia, attempting to seize power without the Union to step in. The King has little chance against both factions - which makes it rather easy to win his allegiance back.

It's an easy situation, and one that's negotiated without bloodshed. The talks take only the span of two weeks, as Boleslav readily agrees to Imperial intervention in a dispute he cannot win. The Imperial loyalists are naturally overjoyed, and even the duchess Marketa agrees to reform into Bohemia in exchange for a monetary settlement and Imperial oversight over Boleslav that Sigurd is more than happy to grant.

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Bohemia had exited the Union in precipitation of its complete collapse, which failed to occur - however narrowly. With the structures of Imperial society back in place, they had little reason to revolt, and are quickly and handily reabsorbed. But Bohemia had been tackled first as the easiest issue facing the disjointed Union, and Sigurd's problems were only to get steeply more difficult.

With Bohemia agreed to pay taxes and swear fealty to the Imperial crown once more, Sigurd focuses himself on the reunified Imperium's most pressing issue: The Finns.

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Bohemia had folded easily, but Finland is wont to do no such thing. Queen Terhi is a proud representative of the Finnic peoples. At sixteen years old, the young queen, of Suomi's traditional ruling dynasty, has a great many faults - she is wrathful, lazy, naive, and downright dim-witted. But she is utterly fearless, an inspiring, stoic figure, and, surprisingly, a tremendously skilled tactician. Thousands of soldiers flock under her banner, despite Suomi's reformation barely three years ago, and Terhi has no intention of bowing to the foreign might of the Imperium once again.

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Even the Assembly - Eigil included - are firmly opposed to the idea of an immediate intervention in Finland. The Storhertug of Thuringia, Ademar the Second, leads the opposition to Sigurd's attempts at reunification with Finland.


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"Our Emperor may be a skilled commander, and our armies are indeed vastly superior to the rebels of the east, but to be blunt - marching against them at present would completely bankrupt us. Raising up the Leidangr in a sizeable enough presence to reliably campaign against the Finns would drain the entire treasury and force us to resort to moneylending, if not defaulting on the payment of our own troops! We must repair the economy before we can even think about entering ourselves into yet another war." Ademar's words, if said for disingenuous purposes, ring true with the Assembly. Harald's war had over fifty thousand casualties, all of them from the Imperium itself, and very few of them Finns.

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Ademar's complaints are half legitimate and half a rally of his political capital, manipulated for prominence and Imperial appeasement. The well-timed effort is profoundly successful at both aspects; over the course of the next year, a significant portion of the Imperium's ailing treasury finds itself in Ademar's pocket, alogn with a handful of prestigious titles and accolades for loyalty and service over the course of the civil war. Sigurd finances all this with a grimace. The money drained to Ademar's pocket is regrettable, but he is determined to press into Finland, and doing so without the full support of the Assembly would be political, and possibly literal, suicide.

After a year of political orchestration and tense standoffs on the Finnish border, Ademar relents. The Finns have had a full year to prepare their manpower and strategy for Imperial incursion, while most of the Union's drained treasury has been invested into political meandering - but the Leidangr remain multiple times the size of the Finnish military, and far better trained. Opinion in the Assembly comes to favor immediate action, for fear of the Finns cementing themselves further - economic consequences be damned.

On the seventh of March, 1175 ER, an Imperial writ is issued offering full approval for military action from the Emperor himself. Imperial troops land on the shores of Finland within the week.

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Another member of the Tsuudit dynasty, Kalevi, is offered his cousin's seat as ruler of the Finns, in exchange for attempting to discredit her rule. Sigurd places little faith in Kalevi's diplomatic abilities, ambitious and cunning as he may be - the people of Finland are loyal to Terhi, young and stupid as she may be.

His faith lies with the Imperial army.

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Predictably, the Imperial forces plow through initial Finnish resistance. Thousands mob at Terhi's command to stop the Imperial troops, but they are poorly armed and organized, and break before the hardened soldiers of the Imperium (comprised mostly of surviving soldiers of Harald's war). Within minutes of the engagement, the Finnish troops have broken, and Terhi retreats the few still fighting minutes later. It is painfully apparent how inferior the Finnish forces are to those of the wider Imperium, and news of the resounding victory affirms Sigurd's position in the assembly. It seems as though the war will be quickly won, and the re-integration of Finland would not only be a political victory - but would also mean tens of thousands more freemen and thralls paying tax to Jafnadgr.

Terhi is not content to give Sigurd his prize so easily.

Instead, the Finnish strategy shifts. Imperial forces re-capture most important physical locations within weeks, but find themselves cut off from supply and communication, with most freemen in the towns and villages claiming to have near-nothing to give to the occupying troops. Patrols from camps and occupied towns throughout Finland often fail to return, and lone detachments are constantly stumbled upon filled with arrows or the bleeding stab-wounds of thin, short blades. This bizarre style of fighting angers the Imperial field commanders and deeply confuses Sigurd. At least, until he realizes Terhi's intent.

She has no notions of forcing the Imperium out of Finland in standard, ground warfare. Instead, it seems the girl queen is ensuring that the reason for Sigurd's aggressive push for Finnish reintegration - to fill the Union's depleted coffers - goes unfulfilled. She is making it more expensive to stay in Finland than to leave.

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Terhi's bizarre strategy works for months that drag on and on, leaving Imperial commanders agitated as attempts to grab at a tangible opponent in Finland fall through like snow in their fingers. More than refusing to engage, it seems as though the Finnish army has completely disassembled, shedding their uniforms to attack Imperial patrols and raze the farmlands of freemen and nobles who cooperate too enthusiastically with the Union. Sigurd declares Terhi's forces to be acting 'more like bandits than honorable soldiers'. Yet her strategy indisputably accomplishes its goals; in another six months, the Union will not have the money to continue fighting in Finland.

Sigurd is forced to rework his own strategy in response. The Imperial occupation is diverted away from the goals of a typical conquest, and reformatted with the purpose of cutting off the head of the snake - Terhi herself.

Eigil's Blackshirts again take center stage.

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The Alsverk are not used here as they were three years ago, where they had served as shock troopers against the usurper Harald Knytling and his noble-supported armies. In Finland, the Huskarls are utilized much as they are normally in Jafnadgr and Oslo; as half-peacekeepers, half-special police. In a campaign more reminiscent of rooting out Anund's insurrection than any kind of actual warfare, the Alsverk engage in a campaign of intimidation, information networking, and borderline racketeering across Finland, led by the firm hand of First Guardian Eigil and under the quiet approval of Sigurd himself. It, unlike anything else attempted to date, gets results. The campaign of economic disruption is whittled down with Terhi's support, and in may of 1177 ER, Terhi herself is captured with her few remaining supporters.

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She is executed within the week without so much as an audience before Sigurd or the Grand Assembly, and the crown of Finland is formally passed on to Kalevi.

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Despite the rapid results of the blackshirts in Finland, their intervention is not without consequences. Their campaign of intimidation and brutality against Terhi's asymmetrical warfare offers the impression in many Finnish nobles that they are not included in the 'Union' upon which the Imperium is founded. Maximilian's original 'Union' centuries ago had been on the basis the North Way and East Francian Duchies; a union of Germanic peoples. The Finns, though Scandinavian, are Finno-Urgic, outside the range of peoples that are supposedly united under one Imperium. Even religiously, their 'naturalistic' sect of Asatru is at odds with those of the mainland, and the aggressive force with which their attempted separation was responded fosters the notion that there is no true unity between the two.

As the role of Finland in the Union shifts, that of the Alsverk does as well. Still half elite shock troopers, the Blackshirts find a peacetime usage as well, functioning as a physical extension of direct Imperial sovereignty across the entire Union. Tasked with keeping the peace, the Blackshirts are given detachments in most major Imperial cities, reporting directly to Eigil, the First Guardian, in Jafnadgr - and he directly to the Emperor himself. They entirely circumvent the need to report to local lords as the members of a regular constabulary do. Due to their small numbers, most cities retain only a dozen or so Alsverk at any given time, but it is more than enough. It lays the foundation for important centralization in the wake of the Union's near collapse, and is proof that Sigurd is not merely aiming to restore the Imperium.

No. He plans to expand it.
 
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I think that can be described as making one's mark on the world.

Btw some images appear to not be displaying
 
I think that can be described as making one's mark on the world.

Btw some images appear to not be displaying

Images tend to be a little messed up right after the update. I'd typically advise waiting 10~ minutes for me to sort everything out and fixing images that failed to attach due to problems with the forum's image hosting before telling me about broken pictures, but it's appreciated!
 
Part Seven
Virtue's Wages

Balance is ill-regarded in the West. The philosophies of the East often prioritize balance as a virtue, claiming that good must always follow evil, that respect must flow in a certain way, even that buildings be built and armies be organized in specific manners to maintain the cosmic, essential, natural balance of the universe. But in the West, and especially the isolated North practicality has always ruled design. There are no qualms about asymmetrical armies or lopsided, aesthetically-pleasing architecture. So long as they fulfill the mandate of their earthly Lord, the heavens that smile upon his reign will be pleased.

Perhaps there is something to be said for the concept of balance in nature. The rigors of natural karma take their toll even in the frozen mountain ranges of the practical, warlike Union.
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Sigurd delivers a healthy baby girl, named Kristine, just before Finland is re-integrated into the wider Union under Kalevi. She is strong, tall, and her newborn baby eyes shine with intelligence; the girl does not cry as she is delivered. Under normal conditions, such a strong and prodigious birth would be heralded as an omen of good fortune and the approval of the Gods - but the physical situation of the Union indicates otherwise.

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The territory aggressively held by revanchist Polish forces in Danzig and Stolp has had a resurgence of Catholicism from homes who had practiced it in secret under Imperial rule. While Christianity was never outlawed in the Union, over the last two centuries the north of Germany had become nearly seventy percent proclaimed Asatru due to general state and regional pressure, a state of affairs that had left many minority Christian groups persecuted by their neighbors. Under Polish governance, Asatru is outlawed and secret and non-secret Catholics in the region are given prominent governmental positions. Word of the change, aided by Polish agents, spreads to staunch Catholic-majority regions in southern Germany and Lithuania. Outrage at perceived and real persecution of Christian groups boils over, and a wave of serious insurrections spread like wildfire throughout the Union in 1178. Some are religious in nature, others stem from disgruntled thralls seeking freemen's rights, but nearly all are led by Christians.

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The Fylkir spends the better part of two years fighting large-scale rebellions, most of which are concentrated in the Catholic strongholds of southern Germany, Bohemia, and Lithuania. To their credit, the revolutionaries could not have chosen a better time to express their discontent. The av Sverdklydige, on the whole, have a well-deserved reputation for being shrewd, cold-hearted politicans at best and furious barbarians are worst. Sigurd II, by contrast, is at his core a sympathetic and just man. He prefers the title of 'Fylkir' to that of 'Emperor', and his first response to the qualms of the revolutionaries is to attempt a reconciliation. Some of the rebellions are put down with physical force, while others are appeased by the changes that Sigurd makes; those two years are as much spent fighting as they are revising the Kvikréttr to better account for Asatru sects and Christian minorities. While the original agreement between Maximilian and the dukes of Northern Germany had ensured that Christianity never be legally persecuted in the Union, later Emperors had given the ancient promises little thought, and his direct successor in Elisa had barred Christians from holding higher office. While it remains illegal for an Imperial title of nobility above the rank of Huskarl to be granted or passed on to a Christian, or for the current holder of such a title to convert from Asatru, Sigurd provides for equal mayoral votes and representation at local Things for religious minorities in the Union, and unequal leveraging of rent or property against Christians is outlawed.

Sigurd's progressive measures cause some irritation amongst traditionalists of the Union, already irritated at his father's decision to name him in the vaguely Christian tradition as Sigurd the Second. But his movements are not radical enough to incite low-level rebellions off amongst them, as Christians remain barred from the top-level government of the Union; although Christian towns can now maintain openly Christian mayors, Christian regions cannot send representatives to the lower house of the Grand Assembly as is the right of Asatru regions. Perhaps the traditionalists have some measure of reason behind their irritated discussions; for all the good bloodless resolution does of many of the rebellions, legal barriers against community persecution and the right for local-level Christian political leadership all but ensures that the regions which remain Christian in 1177 ER will never be converted.

Perhaps even more unfortunately than Sigurd's kindness ensuring the end of Asatru's religious expansion, the time and effort dedicated to legal rewriting and limited military action locks him out of reclaiming territories lost upon the Union's fracture in 1165.

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It's considerably more than Poland that's taken chunks out of the Union. France, the League, and Russia all aggressively protect chunks of claimed territory, from Alsace-Lorraine to regions of Bayern lorded over by the Imperium's hungry neighbors. Had it not been for Harald taking charge with his attempted usurpation when he did, perhaps ironically, the Union might have been entirely decimated by them. As it stands, their chunks of stolen land are relatively small, but still significant. And as strongly as Sigurd wants him back, the years of 1177 and 1178 have been more than enough time for the powers of Europe to organize a front against action by the Union once more. It becomes painfully obvious that while no power alone could stand toe-to-toe with the Union, the Union likewise stands no chance against more than three of any assembled group of powers. And it is understood that whatever petty squabbles would be dropped in a heartbeat, should the Union's armies find themselves tied up in one corner of the world.

The resurgent Muslim dynasties aggressively claiming land on the African coast once taken by Italy and Spain prevent the unified front of a Crusade to bring Europe's might to bear against the Union, but not forever. For now, the North is locked in a stalemate, with each side looking hungrily at what they perceive to be the other's stolen land. Revanchism rises relentlessly - but with such a firm defensive pact in place, it is all Sigurd can do to attempt to manipulate Poland into a war against its current allies in the League and Russia. Given the current state of Poland's ownership in Danzig and Stolp, that is a remarkably difficult affair.

Limited Catholic rebellions appear across the Union until 1180 ER by those unsatisfied with Sigurd's reforms, but most of the Fylkir's effort turns to simple governance in the meantime.

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The years pass by as dreams of retaking lost territory in the immediate gradually fade. Sigurd's attention drifts away from the seemingly impossible task of reclaiming marginal land in France and Poland, and onto matters of rulership and study. The realm, though now made smaller than it was thirty years ago, prospers. Yet, understandably, Sigurd is deeply unhappy. The constant berating of traditionalists is grating and belittling, no matter how much respect they put into their 'My Emperor's or 'Mighty Fylkir'. It is a constant reminder that he is unable to reclaim the lands mockingly held by the enemies of the Union, while they whisper that perhaps the Imperium is an empire in decline. It is insufferable. But what is he to do? Send a hundred thousand men to die in the Russian steppes, then a hundred thousand more to the mountains of the League, and a hundred thousand more in France? And then what of England? Or Poland? Or Italy? Suicide. But the Leidangr prepare and drill anyway. It is more out of obligation than planning.

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Given little recourse, Sigurd's interests become somewhat esoteric. He writes a considerable number of musings on philosophy and religion, some of which veer dramatically away from the mainstream - and are not published or shared. At the age of thirty, in 1187 ER, Sigurd calls for a meeting of his councilors.


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There is no recorded transcript for their conversation.

But when Sigurd leaves the meeting-room, it is with a fresh determination.

Shortly after, a woman by the name of Idunn is recorded to have visited Sigurd's court.

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Idunn does not make the impact she by all accounts should. The accounts that survive of this period describe her as stunningly beautiful, terribly charismatic, and an outspoken occultist, believing in strange, esoteric mysteries and spiritual truths. Sigurd's own journal claimed her to be 'younger than even those of my lineage [...] that she knew he who I am named after in person". But amongst the court, she is only whispered about and hinted at. Thee is no apparent reason for this; Asatru such as Idunn who refuse to accept the Rítaðr guðrún, or tthe Words of Divine Mystery - the codified rites of the Norse - are perhaps the only faith the Union has actively eliminated. To be an 'Old' Asatru and refuse the Rítaðr is to refuse the notion that the Fylkir is the rightful lord of all mankind as approved by the Gods, that the Emperor of the Union is elected as the most capable individual within it by an assembly of their peers, and, most importantly, that the two are inextricably linked. In other words, to refuse the Words is to reject the Emperor-and-Fylkir's claim, both as a messenger of the Gods and as the most deserving leader in the Imperium. It is treason of the highest order. Yet she speaks directly with Sigurd himself.

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Idunn proves a popular topic for rumor, and none dare to take anything against her further. Not, at least, while she speaks privately with the Emperor. Well - almost none.

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Aleksandr has a poor reputation in the wider Union for his deep-seated greed and love of self-glorification, but he has always been deeply and genuinely protective of his younger brother. Aleksandr may not be well-learned in matters of politics or diplomacy - but he can recognize a thief and a charlatan when he sees one, and the beautiful, soft-tongued, charming young heretic speaking privately with his brother checks every box. Sigurd is doubtful when Aleksandr explains his concerns, but Aleksandr was the one who led his armies when he was just a child; the one who stood with him when Annund attempted to usurp the Empire; the one who, no matter what, he has always been able to count on. Reluctantly, the Emperor agrees to allow his brother to investigate Idunn and 'find her true motives'.

Aleksandr, true to his word, has Idunn watched and followed over the weeks that follow. It does not take long before he shows up to speak with Sigurd once more.

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"The witch is conspiring, brother." The red-bearded man speaks with a sense of urgency and emphasis. He is much broader than the younger man he speaks to, comprised entirely of wide shoulders and burly muscles to match the blonde's wiry, distinguished frame. Yet the sharp angles of their face and the bright, clear blue of their eyes, between the rough martial wear of the redhead and the expensive silken finery of the blonde, mark the two as kin.

"What?"

"I had her followed, as you gave permission. Yesterday, in the dead of night, she held a meeting with someone my man did not recognize, in a cowl and a cape. The kind of agent that conspirators use to ferry messages between one another. No one holds meetings such as this unless it requires absolute secrecy."

Sigurd shook his head slightly, his long, golden mane quivering at the motion. "That makes no sense. Surely she would have attacked me long ago, had - "

"Brother!" Aleksandr interrupts. "I know the man who told me this to be telling the truth, and there is no other reason for such a meeting than to plan a death. If you trust me, then you must get rid of the witch for your own sake - before it is too late. What of your children? If she were to succeed, it could be another succession crisis."

"That's not true." Sigurd says coldly. "Even were I to die, you would become Fylkir. And I won't hear talk of trust! You know fully well that you are my dearest friend and ally. If you had wanted to steal the Dragon-crown, you could have done so many years ago. I trust you with all my heart and soul, brother - you know I do, with all that I have. But perhaps your spy was wrong. What if Idunn was sending for materials? Or passing on information? Or - bah, you understand. It could be anything, and Idunn is not - she - she would not try to kill me. Not when he could have already done so, so many times."

Sigurd raises a slim hand to stop his brother from interrupting. "I won't hear it. I am going to speak with her myself, and put this matter to rest, one way or another." Sigurd turns his back to his brother, taking a single step away before twisting his head slightly to the side. "And, brother?"

Aleksandr looks up with pursed lips, his fiery eyebrows furrowed.

"Say something nice at my eulogy, would you?"

With that, Sigurd steps proudly out the door.

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The door to Idunn's chamber opens before Sigurd can knock, with the young occultist waiting inside. Whatever it was that Idunn told Sigurd - or showed him - any notion of Idunn's disloyalty disappears from the Emperor's mind. Less than two months later, the aging Emperor hosts a grand feast for the veterans of Harald's succession war and the Finnish conflict, extending the rather specific feast to much of the Finnish nobility as part of an attempt at reconciliation.

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It soon becomes apparent that apologies for the police crackdown in Finland is not the true reason for the feasting. Sigurd spends lavishly on vetting some of the veteran soldiers that attend the feast, drawing most from the already-elite Huskarlr under the devotedly loyal Eigil. A handful of them, perhaps slightly over two dozen, are taken aside to prepare for some kind of an expedition, which Sigurd never discusses in public nor makes clear the nature of. Much of the Assembly whispers more intensely of Idunn. It is a strange act, to be sure, and none is quite sure of what the Emperor and his heretic-consort are planning.

A few months later, Eigil, the first Fyrgavörðr of the Blackshirts and Sigurd's first and most loyal vassal dies. His death is quite sudden, of 'stress-induced bursting of the blood' - something that shocks the entire court.

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Eigil's death significantly slows preparations for Sigurd's mysterious expedition, due to the months of legitimate grieving and religious ritual that follow after the death of someone who was both an incredibly prestigious figure in the Empire and one of Sigurd's personal closest friends. Appointing a new First Guardian of the Blackshirts is a time-consuming affair as well, one that requires a further month of courting and politicking to select Eigil's successor as head of the now-prestigious Blackshirts. In late June of 1190 ER, Eigil's successor is appointed and his body properly laid to rest. The expedition sets off.

11 Árferðmánuðr, Eptir röm 1190

There is something wrong about this. It's an honor to personally serve under the Fylkir himself, but given the circumstances, I'd rather be back wasting my life at Sjaeland's gates. The Fylkir himself has been every bit as magnanimous as they say. I have made some short conversation with him, and often found myself lacking for words from the sheer force of his personality. I can find no explanation for what such a just and good Lord is doing with that treacherous witch that he takes along by the arm, but he seems to trust her word. Witches were once a staple of our people, before the faith was organized - so perhaps there is something to her. But I will keep a firm grasp on my sword and an eye open regardless.

- Kristoffer

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14 Árferðmánuðr, Eptir röm 1190

I have completely lost track of where we are. We have only been marching a few days, but with the Witch, it feels much longer. We set out north-east from Oslo, so surely we should be in the forests of the South Way, or the Northern reaches? I put the question mark because I have been to the northernmost Jarldom of the Empire, and this place is not like it. The terrain shifts from thick forest to deep mountain with almost no warning, and it is far colder than even the most northern lands would be in midsummer. The others notice it too, and Välmo, one of the old Alsverk who fought in Finland - he looks more scar than man to me - is already bitterly complaining about having not being told our purpose with this expedition. He seems restless without something to kill. Or be killed by. I figure that the Fylkir has a strong reason to not explain himself as of yet. Things will be made clear soon enough.


- Kristoffer

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15 Árferðmánuðr, Eptir röm 1190

Exhausted. Cleared a mountain pass by hand. Where are we?

6 Ýlir (Yulemonth - Roughly November), Eptir röm 1190

We have been traveling for four months now. Summer has passed, and winter makes this strange land even colder. Soon, we will have to stop the expedition for the winter-months; we have more than enough food and supplies, but everyone is tired and irritated. An expedition of such intensity takes a toll on more than the body, and the fact that we do not even truly know what we have been toiling for makes the journey that much worse. Some months of rest, even in the freezing cold, will do us all well.

- Kristoffer

22 Þorri (Snowmonth - Roughly late January), Eptir röm 1191

Today the Fylkir gathered everyone around to explain that we are looking for the grove of Iðunn, and the eternal life it contains. The mocking name of the witch-priestess with us now makes more sense. Perhaps she truly is Iðunn, having come to test the Fylkir's virtue and judge him worthy of immortality. Or perhaps she is, as I suspect, just a mocking charlatan witch playing illusions and deceptions on our senses. Some of the others claim she truly is the Goddess, and talk in excited tones about the prospect of eternal life. We leave through the dissipating snow in a week.

- Kristoffer


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8 Árferðmánuðr, Eptir röm 1191


Through these bizarre, twisting landscapes, we have finally found an end. We came to a grove yesterday, with a single bright apple at the top. Before anyone moved for it, Välmo addressed the Fylkir and the Witch, demanding explanations and justifications. I would have had him executed then myself, but the Fylkir was too kind for his own good. He spent a good while explaining the nature of the grove and its apples, and how he, as Fylkir, is the appointed representative of Gods and Men alike; about how his pursuit of life was not for himself, but for the betterment of the Imperium and such things. It ought have ended there, but Välmo, bowing his head and murmuring apologies, offered to climb the tree and retrieve the apple himself.

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I suppose he thought we would help him when he bit into it himself. Everyone was enraged, but none more than the Fylkir. People tell stories of the rage of the Dragon and the Wolf, so perhaps it runs in his blood. It was such a fury as the Bezerkers of the Jomsvikings. I will spare these pages the details. They are unfit for civilized discussion.

The witch was gone when we had finished, and the way home seems much clearer than the way here. The Fylkir did not seem the same. He spoke barely at all to any of us on the return, and there was a changed glare in his eyes the whole way. I can only imagine what he must have been thinking.


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I dearly hope the Fylkir recovers soon from this incident. I believe the witch truly was nothing more than a skilled and malicious illusionist. Nothing about this year-long journey makes sense to me otherwise. Perhaps one day we will find her, and know the truth of her deceptions and lie-weaving. Whether or not the Apple was real, I can see the burden it has placed on the Fylkir in the very posture of his back.

I feel I have been a part of something very critical, but I do not know why. These pages haunt me. There are some many pages left, but I do not want to write any more after today.


No good will come of this.

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- Kristoffer

 
Well that isn't very good now is it - a promising, if cautious, ruler laid low by whisperings and an impossible quest.
 
I remember that quest, I failed it in the exact same manner following the exact same pattern with a character relatively similar.
Except it was in Ironman mode, in Sardinia, in 770. What a great way to start a game it was.
 
Well that isn't very good now is it - a promising, if cautious, ruler laid low by whisperings and an impossible quest.
I remember that quest, I failed it in the exact same manner following the exact same pattern with a character relatively similar.
Except it was in Ironman mode, in Sardinia, in 770. What a great way to start a game it was.

I feel like having an supposedly immortal Norse witch named 'Idunn' might raise an eyebrow or three in a codified Asatru Empire, but what do I know? :rolleyes:

I'll take this space to add an out-of-character reminder that since this is a Crusader Kings 2 - Stellaris megacampaign, Psionics do exist in this universe. But that's all I'll say on the matter of immortality and oddly-named 'witches'. Also, apologies for the long waits for this update, I've been busier than normal and this one was quite a bit of work. I suspect the years are going to fly by when we get into EU4.
 
When you do transition to EUIV, do you think you migth be willing to share the CK2 export? It look like it's going to be a fun mod to play with.

I will be sharing all custom scenarios. Nations that do not exist in our timeline (such as the Imperial Union itself and the League - well, if they survive until then) will receive new fluff and ideas. I eventually plan on creating a custom Stellaris scenario filled with enough fully-written races and fallen empires for a populated massive galaxy. Hopefully people will enjoy the minimods :D
 
Interlude
The New World Order: 1194 ER

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The age of tribes is over. It has been well over half a millennium since the fall of Rome, and Europe can finally be said to have fully recovered. The disorganized, contentious tribes and barbarians that once owned much of the continent are but a fading memory, and the Western World falls into a tight collection of increasingly powerful and consolidated nations. Although the League theoretically exists as an equal federation of smaller states, in truth it is little more than a decentralized empire - one of the eleven states that retain a presence within Europe, not counting the Irish Isles. Aside from the British, who voraciously engage in campaigns to conquer Ireland, the powers of Europe have nowhere left to expand - save through one another. Small states are no longer on the playing field.

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England undergoes yet another shift of leadership. The Randolphs, a post-conquest noble family once comfortably situated as Dukes of Oxford, seize power in a bloody coup that ousts the foreign and long-ruling Bonifazis. They are the first family to rule England in centuries native to the island - and their habits are more the style of the new Norman aristocracy than the old Anglo-Saxon tribes. The new Emperor, Wymund, declares himself Emperor of the British Isles, of the new Empire of 'Britannia'. His logic comes from the recent conquest and unification of Scotland - as lords of near the entirety of the British Isles, they have a claim, surely, to the whole. Within five years, Wymund is murdered in retaliation by a Bonifazi assassin, leaving his five-year-old son as the Emperor apparent. The new Empire holds - for now.

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The Kingdom of France fares little better. While the lands it took from the Union in what could technically be considered a victorious war do lend the state and its long-ruling Capet dynasty a level of credibility, a constant stream of underaged rulers and the expenses from neverending wars with Britain, Burgundy, the Union and Frisia do not. France falls into yet another bloody civil war, stagnating their national politics, particularly with a thirteen-year-old ruler at the helm. Again.

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Frisia, on the other hand, prospers. The relocation of the Templar Order to a stronghold between themselves and France has proven a constant thorn in their side, but the animosity of France and Britain generally proves a receptive environment for trade. With the military protection of the Union behind them, Frisia holds a comfortable trading situation, secured by their religion and wealth. Religious conflict still occasionally flares, but there is much less tension between the Norsemen and the Catholics across the English Channel than there once was.

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Hispania's rapid expansion has come to a decisive end. Already stretched thin by the extent of their claims into Africa, the Iberian state turns inward and defensive, particularly in regards to the emerging Egyptian caliphate. Most of Italy's coastal possessions have been swept up by the Egyptians, but Hispania proves resistant to the same, foritfying their coastline against Muslim ships and lightning raids. But aside from skrimishes to the south and the east, precious little changes in the far corner of Europe.

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Further to the East, the borders of Bulgaria shift and mutate. While slightly too large to seriously consider giving up autonomy to the neighboring League, it seems an increasingly more attractive option as Byzantium and Russia box it in. The League is, however, overwhelmingly Catholic, while Bulgaria is a staunchly Orthodox state. That fact alone is enough to dissuade the small Bulgarian state from joining with the League, even boxed-in as it is between two increasingly large and powerful Empires.

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Still, both Russia and Byzantium still have their own concerns. The Pecheng hordes have been driven off to the Volga river, but powerful nomadic tribes in the east are still a constant harassment. The once-Norse Rurikids are also in constant contention with the Union, and a recent border with Byzantium has made their once-stable ally far to the south something of a distant concern. Expansion into Bulgaria would leave them exposed and vulnerable, and so Russia focuses on securing the eastern wastelands that could once be a tremendous amount of expansive land.

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Byzantium isn't without its own issues. Russia is its only regional ally, and their new border throws that alliance into less-than-ideal straits. While Italy and Bulgaria are its traditional allies, the resurgent Islamic Caliphates have put a serious hamper on its expansion into the middle east, and mean that Byzantium is quite literally surrounded on all sides of its massive empire by waiting threats. Russia, at least, can be relied on to not opportunistically cannibalize the ancient and somewhat stagnant Empire's vast lands in an instant, but perhaps not for much more. Although the Empire is strong, its decentralized nature, the lack of loyalty of many vassals to the constantly-changing Basileus, and its massive number of enemies put Byzantium in a perilous position for the future, no matter how powerful its armies may be.

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Byzantium's gains in the middle east are testamount to how weak the Muslim states were a mere century ago, collapsing under decadent and ineffective rulers. While the Fatimid dynasty survived, the Tulunids were exterminated, replaced by the Habilids who rebuilt the Egyptian Sultanate twice as strong as it had once been. Many Italian lands on the African coast were seized over the course of the last half-century, and parts of the Holy Land were seized from Crusaders, the Byzantines, and the rivaling Fatimid caliphate. They represent a resurgent, rising power, sharply in contrast to the stagnant Empires in Spain and Greece that border them. Not all Empires, it seems, are made of the same stuff.

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The Fatimids that control the eastern sands of Arabia appear more similar to the Byzantines than their own religious brothers of the Habilids. The Fatimid's ancient governance is sprawling and labyrinthine, with a slew of redundant, decadent titles and constant internal politicking between countless rival factions. Though the Fatimids were successful in conquering the upstart Persian Empire, the ravaging of the region allowed for Byzantium to get its hands on a few crucial locations in the north, and significant holdouts of Persian rebellions still remain in opposition to Fatimid rule. In fact, the Fatimids are similar to the Byzantines in many ways - surrounded exclusively by rabid enemies and one single, spotty allied force. A perfect rivalry.

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The Persian remnants rally under the Yamag Parsak, a neo-Zorostarian theocrat with strongholds in the far eastern reaches of Persia and the steppes of central Asia.They fight voraciously, and single-mindedly, against the Fatimids who occupy much of the Central Asian plateau - a very clear symbol of the aging Caliphate's inability to finish the job. In truth, the Yamag Parsak's 'resistance' can hardly be claimed as such - the extensive bureaucracy and organized, stable quality of life in the central Asian heartlands are that of a fully-fledged state, not a mewling resistance effort. Despite the fact that the Fatimids are only bordered by three states (Four, if you count the estranged and isolationist Partihara dynasty of the Indian Subcontinent), they may well be in a worse situation than even their Byzantine rivals.

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Back in Central Europe, neighboring states cautiously watch the Union. Most of its neighbors have made modest gains during the Northern states' stumble, but aside from a declaration of intent, their gains have been only that - modest. The Imperium's neighbors all hunger for more. Poland and the League are both confident in their position, with only one immediately apparent foe in the Union and a wide net of potential allies on all sides. The Orthodox Russians can generally be counted on in a fight against the Imperium, and France and England may be drawn into the larger conflicts. While the Northnmen got off from their last stumble scuffed but not seriously injured, it's highly unlikely that they'll come off so easily from a second mistake.

Which is why so much attention rests on the new Fylkir.

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Aleksandr II, they say, has not been taking the death of his brother well. He may be an experienced and accomplished general, to be feared for his brutal efficiency in crushing Harald's noble rebellion twenty years ago. But that was twenty years ago, and Eigil, the true author of most of the Union's success in that terrible war, is dead. Aleksandr, so they say, has become paranoid, obsessive, and erratic. The Union stands at the forefront of technological and social progress, a true symbol of how far Europe has come since the fall of Rome. An intelligent and well-beloved Fylkir heads its powerful, elite armies. Perhaps normally, the glinting steel of the Leidangr and the imposing black-and-red uniforms of the Alsverk would be enough to scare off greedy glances from every angle.

But the sharpness of one's sword does not particularly matter if it's being stuck in the wrong man.
 
Oh my. Is Aleksandr about to be a bit indiscriminate?
 
And in the east, the Mongols are coming... unless you disabled them?
And you have a Zoroastrian Persia with a Theology as Leadership! Ok, now I know what I want to play in your EU IV mod...