Children of the Fatherland: MP conversion game

[FrozenWall]

So we're all lonely men taking out our sexual frustration on each other in a buggy computer game?

Speak for yourself I say we are honing our patience into a transcendent zenlike state.

I'd rather compare it to hell.

I'd say hades

Having your boulder roll down the hill is Fun!

 

[carillon]

Well big developments in the peace while the forums were down. Compromise looks like the way forward! Go progress!

 

[Gollevainen]

PROCESSION​

Dôn drifted among the procession. It was a single body, a unit with only one purpose, one destination and one motion. Yet it was a procession of individual souls. Or what was left of them.
The trail of the death. Dôn felt their memories and for a short moment, relived them as her eternal presence passed by among the deaths who marched through the shadow side of the fair lands.

They were like cattle. Mindless in their intentions, and it took someone to keep them in move. Someone Dôn was not pleased to meet this time. The procession of the death had its own marching band and own herders for the flock.

But Dôn was not interested of them. She wanted to know where such large and long procession had come. That’s why she was drifting among them, trying to find her way through it to its origins. She found her way. She always did. And like usual, the procession made its motion mostly in time rather than in space, Dôn wasn’t surprised to find herself in calm and quiet hall, somewhere in the middle lands, inside humans’ realms.

Dôn wandered through the lands. It was rich and wealthy kingdom. It laid in fertile land where man’s needs where satisfied by almost as easily as it would have been in the fair side, little effort and work was needed here. People were lazy and passionate. They had more time for the craft of relationships and commerce. They talked lot, felt lot and poured the weight and load of their minds upon just about anybody who could comprehend, yet they meant awful little with all of it. Dôn despised them. They were soft and lukewarm.
Yet these men were in plenty and soon their ranks and numbers would be reduced. The wine that seemed to flow here inside the rivers would soon be replaced with blood. Dôn entered their halls. She met their kings and Queens.
But still she didn’t find the roots of the war of such magnitude that was to come. She then traveled little onwards, to other lands that surrounded. Then she begun heard things.
…of unfair balance
…of strong Rome and false claims upon it
…of mindless land gobbling and power mongering
…how there will be balance once more
…how its vassals are rebellious and people unhappy and unsatisfied
…how it’s going to be in different regency
Once again, the war tales begun to be favorite bedtime stories for children. Excitement gathered up among the common folk. The storm was rising. Dôn felt the dark clouds and ill weather once again. Just like long time ago in England far away. The storm was threatening her very life again.

But just like a storm that suddenly breaks and scatter, the Sun shined again. Something had happened. Dôn had seen the demands and knew that the war would have been to everyone’s pleasure.
…of someone standing back
…of someone getting cold feet
So there will not be wars. Despite the rumors of wars. Dôn was puzzled. She wandered the land and sought answers but heard only whispers.
…how there will be balance once more
…how its vassals are rebellious and people unhappy and unsatisfied
…how it’s going to be in different regency
And when the rumors started again, the power that the storm hit nearly torn them all down.
It was so swift change from peace to holocaust. …People getting burned into their homes. …Armies marching through the land, scorching and tearing the earth.
Dôn saw how the good king raised his regiments and rode to the battle. But the enemies were everywhere. Everyone was the enemy. Everyone wanted to end the good king’s balance. And all claimed personal reasons. …and where was I supposed to know that my neighbor had some grunge as well?
Dôn had heard the rumors. It made her mad. The good king had not. It still made him mad as well. The war raved upon the land but like always, the blood that man has comes to it limits. When the last drip had been split, the fires extinguished. Swords were put back to their hilts. Then the demands where set to the table and Dôn was there no more to witness the lying and betrayal. She had seen the source of the stream of souls to her side. She didn’t want to be there any longer.

 

[King of Men]

A Triumph in Rome

Is it not passing brave to be a King, and ride in triumph through Persepolis?

September 15th, 1160
Via Cassia, outside Rome
Morning

Thus passeth the glory of the world: The city of the seven hills had shrunk, in these centuries of darkness, and retreated, and what had once been the Field of Mars outside the city walls, where a proper Triumph started, was now the built-up core of the most densely inhabited district. No matter. Thomas did not, in any case, intend to pass in his chariot through the Gate of Triumphs (it no longer existed, nor did the Severan walls in which it had stood) and sacrifice white bulls to Jupiter (a pagan custom) before giving his laurel wreath to the gods as a demonstration that he did not intend to become King of Rome (for whether or not he had the title, he very much had the power, and did not intend that anyone should forget it.)

The forms were all changed; but the substance remained. The substance of power, in the shape of a thousand cataphracts, rode at Thomas's back as he entered the city, carrying in one hand the enormous gilded keys he'd made the Pope hand over in the surrender ceremony. Deliberate irony: The treaty specified that they were the keys to the city, but nobody could miss the reference to St Peter's keys; and a Pope who did not hold Rome was only another bishop. The Pontiff's face had been grim with the understanding; he knew his symbols and his politics, did the Knytling Pope, even if his theology was weak and his Latin nonexistent. In his other hand, Thomas held a sword; sheathed, but he trusted the point would get across. He might have chosen a scepter, instead, slightly hiding the reality behind gold and glitter - a scepter, after all, is only a big stick, well suited to breaking bones and dashing out brains - but when it came to it, these people weren't Greeks, subtle with centuries of civilisation. Best to give it to them straight.

There was no cheering, and few citizens lining the filthy street. Thomas kept a wary eye on the rooftops; a flung stone, or a well-aimed arrow, could mix triumph and disaster in a single second. But no assassins appeared. The Romans, it seemed, were going to acquiesce, however sullenly, to Roman rule - at least while the legions were actually camped outside the city. "Let them sulk," Thomas muttered to himself, "so long as they obey." There would be a strong garrison - not Papal troops, but Roman thematic troops - in Castel Sant'Angelo tonight, and for decades to come; and with time, the sullenness would fade. He would appoint a few of the nobles as Senators, make the position of Exarch an office of high honour - Italy couldn't be governed from Constantinople, that had been the whole point of the separation - and eventually Rome would find itself still an important city, the second city of a great Empire.

Second city, at any rate, by virtue of being the center of government for the Exarchate of Italy; other than the aura of history, there was little to recommend the place qua city. Thomas had spent blood and gold like water to conquer Rome, but now that he rode through its streets he found he couldn't wait to get out again. Could this stinking place really be the same city that had first laid out sewers and aqueducts as public works? This city had given the world the words civitas and civilisation, and yet there was garbage piled in the streets and graffiti on every wall - some of it appearing to date from Republican times. Houses stood empty, gaping, some partly ruined where the citizens - bah, the citymen; let them earn their title - had taken masonry or beams to shore up their own crumbling houses. Here and there one could glimpse the ruins of past greatness: A pyramid, a column, a grand church or marble-faced mansion. But on the whole the city stank, not only of sewage and decay, but of emptiness. If this was the result of Church rule, Thomas could only praise his predecessors for having kept the Patriarchs well under their thumbs. Perhaps, with the Papal influence lifted, Rome might again become a thriving market town, or a city of grand vistas and powerful nobles, or at least a fruitful recruiting ground for strong armies. The weight of theology had clearly been too much for it; let the subtle Greeks carry that burden for a while.

It began to rain.

 

[Fivoin]

Treaty of Milan

Under the supervision of magistrates from the warring parties and under the ever watchful eyes of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit the following parties agree to cease hostilities against one another and return to Gods peace with the enactment of the terms put forth in this treaty.
The terms are written henceforth:

Item the first:
All hostilities between warring states of the Holy Roman Empire, the Kingdom of Loire, the Kingdom of Lotharingia, the Empire of Byzantion, the Kingdom of Denmark and the duchy of Toledo are to cease immediately upon the signing of this treaty.

Item the second:
The Holy Roman Empire hereby recognizes Danish sovereignty over the province of Brandenburg and Shrewsbury to govern as they see fit.

Item the third:
The border between the Holy Roman Empire and the duchy of Toledo is to be drawn south of Tarragona and west to the south of Soria. From there it will be drawn north to Viscaya and the shores of the Bay of Biscay.

Item the fourth:
The Holy Roman Empire recognizes Thomas Komnenus, king of Bulgaria, as the Emperor of Byzantion. The Holy Roman Empire further recognizes the Byzantine sphere of influence in southern Italy.

Item the fifth:
The border between the Holy Roman Empire and the kingdom of Loire is to be drawn from Saintonge and stretch East-North-East all the way to just south of Auxerre. The Holy Roman Empire also recognizes Raoul de Flandre, king of Loire, as the true duke of Poitou.

Item the sixth:
The border between the kingdom of Lotharingia and the Holy Roman Empire is to be drawn from Besancon, passing immediately north of Helvetica and eastward until east of Salzburg. From there it is to be drawn north to the Danube. The border then follows the Danube eastward until the Croatian border. In addition, the kingdom of Lotharingia recognizes Dietrich de Toulouse, Holy Roman Emperor, as the duke of Jerusalem, protector of the pilgrims to the holy lands, duke of Aquitaine, duke of Genoa, duke of Carinthia, duke of Pisa, duke of Ancona, duke of Lombardia, duke of Provence, duke of Modena, duke of Sardinia, duke of Savoie and the duke of Spoleto. Further, the Holy Roman Empire recognize Ernst von Goldstrand, king of Lotharingia, as the duke of Baden, duke of Swabia, duke of Franconia, duke of Bavaria and the king of Bavaria.

The included map describes the borders resulting from the treaty of Milan.

In addition to these terms, Lotharingia will pay for the massive feast that is to be hold subsequent to these negotiations.





Agreed to and signed by his royal majesty Ernst I von Goldstrand, king of Lotharinga.

 

[oddman]

Lacking a working Paradox forum, I will post my AAR here.

Author's note: for ease of reference, Western dating conventions are used.

Emirate of Toledo

When Habiba died, everything changed.

Habiba, born in the Armanjani family, an Arab noble family from Northern Africa, rose to fame as the first wife to Barakat Dhu'l Nun, Emir of Toledo. Three daughters and one son she gave him; only one daughter survived childhood and she passed away before giving her parents grandchildren.

1165

The Emir

Barakat, Emir of Toledo, the hero of this episode, was tired.

Through the 66 years of his long life, the opulence of the palace in Toledo had grown, even as other realms in Spain has waxed, waned and even crumbled, Toledo had grown. True, its independence had been sacrificed for the greater good, and larger empires, not all of them Muslim, had gained a foothold in Iberia, but in Toledo, the slope remained upwards, if gently so. The submission to the Fatimids, while thoroughly Islamic in every principle, had been a disputed decision; some nobles, proud of independent traditions of Andalucia, threatened civil war. Fortunately, the power of the throne had been enough to dissuade some and dislodge others. Fatimid backing was important in a peninsula torn between Muslim feuding and German incursions. In spite of this security, the family of the Emir was not a happy one. He had survived his four children, so the first in line to succession in the emirate were Slavic cousins, some of whom Kaffirs.

The bright spots in the Emir's life were few and far between. His relation with his liege was one: the young Fatimid Caliph was a bright and practical man, but his busy life and differing personality prevented personal friendship. Still, the mutual support was undeniable.

A pleasant fact, since the ambitions of the Emir had never been humble. All of Al-Andalus, or Iberia as many had taken to calling it Kaffir-style; nothing less would be acceptable for the glory of Dhu'l Nun. The only thing the Emir was sure about was that it would not happen in his lifetime, nor in his childrens' lifetimes - after all, he had witnessed their ends.

Through some strange twist of fate all Muslims had simultaneously taken to monogamy on January first, 1066, and the Muslims of Al-Andalus were no exception, so Barakat stuck with Habiba through thick and thin.

The topography of Toledo has seen little change in the intervening decades.

Geography, 1165

Strangely enough, the mostly unemployed armed forces appeared hard to manage. Several marshals had lost their minds attempting to administer the armies of Toledo.

1169
All things come to an end; sometimes for better, sometimes for worse. In the case of Habiba's demise, history will tell what the effects will be. Things changed, without a doubt.

For years, the relation between the Emir and his spouse had been purely professional. Many had been the disagreements caused by Habiba's temperate nature, and when she died, the Emir was shaken as much by the loss of a capable steward to the realm as by the loss of his life's partner. Yearning to continue the Dhu'l Nun line, emissaries from Toledo traversed the world in search of a bride for the Emir, and they found one.

Jailbait in less civilised societies


Laying eyes upon this woman who could have been his granddaughter, the Emir vowed:
"A careful life I have lead; caution and diplomacy have brought me where I am today. Let us see what life has in store for this same man when his blood starts flowing again for the first time in forty years! Let the world tremble before the might of Al-Andalus!"

Evil tongues dismiss this speech as propaganda, meant to cover up the fact that Toledo joined a war against an already outnumbered enemy. Be that as it may, the war was joined, and whether that has anything to do with the mental state of the Emir, no one may ever find out.

The die has been cast, the new road of Toledo lies open before her with an aging but reinvigorated Emir at the helm. What will the coming years bring?

 

[FrozenWall]

The Fatimid Caliphate: Peacebringer

The politics were rough for the young Calipha Afzal al-Fatimid. His father Ala'i the Restorer had conquered land from Mosul to Lisbon, annihilated crusades, humbled empires and passed once mighty kingdoms into the dustbin of history. He had almost singlehandedly recreated the Caliphate of old, and built a nation to brush aside all those who opposed him. Something that had come back to haunt his son.

For the Emirs of the Caliphate were more generals than governors, and there was ever some enemy who needed to be humbled in their minds. And the standing armies grew restless of peace. As if the army was not enough the mishmash of mullahs, ayatollahs and imams that was the religious authority insisted loudly that the One True Faith had to be spread for all to hear. The Caliphate should not suffer the insults of heatens to the north and apostates to the west quietly. The faithful enclaves on Persia must be protected from the heretical tyranny of Baghdad, and so on, and so forth.

At least he was free from the troubles of al-Andalus, where the Emir of Toledo had been raised to Sultan. The place had been a total mess of crusaders, jihadist idealists, heretics of the Galician cult, and various Imperial and Caliphate vassals of questionable loyalties and agenda. Over all this he had put the most capable dynasty of Dhu'l-Nun to lord in the Caliphas name, with a sizable coffer of Fatimid gold and good men by his side the Emir had set about bringing the peninsula to order with fire and fury. His zealotry soon brought the newly minted Sultan into direct conflict with Imperial governors who declared no intention to yield land taken by right of conquest. It was not long before border skirmishing turned into full blown war.

But the unruly and lawless peninsula was not the only problem for the Toulousian Emperors, for they had ruled with a heavy hand and now its vassals demanded an end to taxation and excessive tolls. Sensing weakness the greeks in the south rebelled and called upon their countrymen to come save them from oppression. The court of Byzantion took a broad interpretation of "saving" and made sure to save Rome from the Pope while they were at it. In the north the mighty noble Rurikovich by cunning and knife usurped much Imperial land and many nobles threw their lot with him. In a fit of hubris he also declared himself Grandmaster of the orders who protect the catholic pilgrims in the holy land.

Upon hearing this the Lords Fatimid of the Caliphate roared and thundered. The title of Lord Protector of the Christian pilgrims in the Holy Land was not some title of land to be usurped between powermongering heathens! It was handed unto the Emperor by the hands of Calipha Ala'i himself! Surely such insolence could not be accepted! If the Empire was unfit to act then the Western Banners must be raised and sent to restore proper order!

Afzal cursed the Europeans and their troublesome ways. He needed time and peace to fasten the bloodlines hold of the lands conquered only so recently. Not war that killed of the philosophers and rewarded the hotheads, and where loss would destabilize the realm and victory dilute Fatimid hold on power by bringing lesser families crying for rewards by merit. Better then to wait and let the Emperors reassert power.

Allah however would not have him have it so easy, and let the Christians fall upon each other like ravenous beasts. Afzal was not much worried by the fools weakening each other. In years long past his father had promised the emperors that they would be allowed to raise the men of the lands they had abandoned to him in Africa, but such agreements appeared to have been lost in the dust filled annals of some forgotten part of the Imperial libraries. Afzal was quite happy to leave them there. But the Emperor had a trump card far superior to some dusty old document; his mother.

Badiat al-Fatimid, Empress mother of Western Rome. In royal standing she was only just below the Calipha himself, and her oppinion was nothing one easily brushed aside.

The arrival of the Empress mother to the court of Alexandria ended Afzals hopes of staying on his side of the sea. The Fatimid nobles were already well aware of the anti-Imperial propaganda pertaining to the Empires relations to the Caliphate, and the ravings of holy men around western Europe. If Milan fell she could not expect any good treatment at the hands of the mob. Like any Fatimid she knew how to command a room of nobility, her voice clean and strong. If there were men among the Fatimids then sitting idly by as the heathen showed them the foot could be no option. Like the uncouth warriors they were the Emirs took it hook line and sinker, holy war against the heathen, avenging insults, aiding an old ally, and to top it all of a damsel in distress. She played her cards just as well as one would expect from an Imperial widow. There was no real way the Calipha could allow a Fatimid Empress to be deposed without massive loss of face, or the risk of a new Fatimid civil war, this he knew.

However Afzal was no fool in logistical matters. A war against the combined powers of Europe would be a massive undertaking in men, gold and risk. Reigning in the most immediately belligerent of his Emirs he instead entered into negotiations with the tramontane Rus that would earn him a reputation as a grey eminence of diplomatic dealings and foreign relations. It is not known what was said between the far away rulers of the two greatest nations of the known world. Curiously their relations had otherwise swayed from antagonistic to ignorant. The two great lords were both known for being just, pragmatic and vengeful, and it is speculated that this brief cooperation was the result of the old Tsar seeing eye to eye with the young Calipha on a personal level.

The venerable Sviatoslav Rurikovich, Tsar of more Russias than the cartographers guild can keep track of.

The young Afzal Fatimid, Calipha of all the Faithful and ruler from sea to shining sea.

It was thus that the marching armies of Europe stopped dead in their tracks upon the thunder of the Great Lords, declaring there must be peace or there would be war. Some said surely they must be bluffing, others secretly threw their lot with the lords of Alexandria and Novgorod when they saw which way the wind was blowing. Many were the pleas and curses thrown about the great halls of Europe when the carrion realized the lions had arrived. But after some squabbling over unimportant provinces who's name no civilized people could pronounce the Houses of Europe declared that gaining some was better than gaining more only to have the Moslems crossing the sea in their tens of thousands. For, declared the older and wiser among them, where the infidel have come they have proven more difficult to remove than vermin and it was best they be kept behind sea and mountain.



Therefore there was peace in the world for some time. In Alexandria Afzal was lauded as a bringer of peace, and his detractors had to hide their faces in shame

 

[Gollevainen]

all accusations of assasinations against the Principality of Finland are, naturally pure propaganda and of malice intentions.

 

[King of Men]

Never mind Finland; I accuse the Caliphate of attempted murder of Komnenoi children under my protection, in clear breach of the treaty of Crete!

Neither party shall attack the other, or the vassals or acknowledged allies of the other; nor shall they permit their vassals to inherit land within the other's domains, nor shall they send assassins or spies within each other's realms.

Malhaz is five years old. I must say that even for infidels, this is pretty low. Even if he is, by an unfortunate chance, heir to the Duke of Cyprus. Especially when you consider that, if he inherited while the treaty was still valid, as seems likely, the land would be handed back; and let's note, if he didn't have land within Byz when he inherited, he woudl just become a Fatimid vassal anyway.

 

[Gollevainen]

King of Men
Never mind Finland;

how dare you
An epic mediterrenian excommunication drama -> huge war certainly pales in comparrision to the adventures of the Dôn family!!
We had sex with our coussins for christ sake...
yeah....

 

[King of Men]

Ok, fair enough. I'm happy to have the entire Don family excommed as well, since you insist. But I'm not about to go to war over it.

 

[Gollevainen]

sex with relatives is not couse of excommunication
I can always claim that I didn't knew and she looked so unrelative to me...

 

[FrozenWall]

To quote myself from the ederon forums, where accusations of assassinations and fraud fly thick;

The situation was thus; Some little git had maneuvered himself into Cyprus line of succession. Concluding that he was not of a branch of importance I decided to rid my line of him. Due in large part to residual inebriation and sleep deprivation from having celebrated the end of my environmental law class all night with no sleep afterwards, and in some lesser part to pedestrian stupidity, I simply clicked the shield next to his portrait in the belief that he resided within Cyprus and sent some assassins. Such are the risks of university life. Attentive players might at this point wish to interject the fact that the Cyprus coat of arms is quite distinctively different from random Anatolian county x, and in this there may be some small merit. I however did not realize my mistake until KoM enlightened me to my oversight. As such there existed culpa, but not dolus, and I leave it to the GM to decide whether COTF ascribes to the common legal principle of intent or prefer the use of the judicial theory of strict responsibility. If alternative reparations could be worked out that would be preferable.

Don't drink and game kids! :S

 

[carillon]

Hah, ain't that the truth. I spent parts of todays session fighting a hang over by lying on my bed with a pillow over my eyes. Thankfully CK can run itself when you aren't at war.

 

[King of Men]

Hmm... so I might have won some wars by just shouting loudly enough in TS to drive you away, then? Something to keep in mind for other weeks.

 

[carillon]

Hmm... so I might have won some wars by just shouting loudly enough in TS to drive you away, then? Something to keep in mind for other weeks.

Haha, no it would be the shouting that woke me up. If you kept quiet I might not even know something was going on.

 

[FrozenWall]

Hmm... so I might have won some wars by just shouting loudly enough in TS to drive you away, then? Something to keep in mind for other weeks.

Your ambition stretches all the way to northern France now?




Anyway

Session 15; The Peacetreaty to end all Peacetreaties!

(Euphrates belongs to the Caliphate, not Asturias)

Newly minted Asturias racks up bb taking over Spain and has some vassal trouble

I cry a bit inside as my manpower lowers every time Oddman receives one of his provs

Jakalo leaves Germany early, it steals Castille from Asturias and has some rebel trouble.

The duke of Apulia flees to his normand brethren in Scotland

Persia tries to steal Euphrates, but is outmaneuvered by my superior AI exploiting skills.

Lotharinga switches primary title to Bavaria, for better color recognition and pronounceability

Our Poland player leaves us, prospective players sign up now! In one week it is declared AI and will be ripped to shreds by its neighbors

 

[Foelsgaard]

Persia tries to reclaim Euphrates from its most unjust occupiers

Fixed

 

[Jakalo]

Jakalo leaves Germany early, it steals Castille from Asturias and has some rebel trouble.

To say as much, I left Germany with money surplus, no rebelling vassals, honourable reputation and a wrap up war to claim 2 provinces in Spain belonging to Oddmans troublesome vassal.

...

 

[FrozenWall]

Fixed

Hey, hey, I offered you all those provs back for free two weeks ago and you rejected them! And started threatening me!

To say as much, I left Germany with money surplus, no rebelling vassals, honourable reputation and a wrap up war to claim 2 provinces in Spain belonging to Oddmans troublesome vassal.

Leaving your realm in the hands of the AI for more than 15 minutes and only having 5 vassals revolt counts is a good development