G'day everybody, and welcome to my new Crusader Kings II AAR. I'm sorry to announce that my previous AAR, The Sunni Invasion, has been abandoned, but I will endeavour to complete this one! Our story begins in 1205, featuring the House of Mac Duib, originating in Fife. I have played from the 1066 start and the story begins here.
Game Information : Played on most recent patch, all DLC before Conclave activated. No Sunset Invasion. Played in Ironman Mode. Played on Windows 7.
THE LADY OF ALBANY
Chapter 1
'So it's settled,' the King of the Scots began, 'the war between our two entities is to cease for time immemorial, and a truce enforcing this shall be valid for 15 years. Nothing shall change hands, everything shall remain as it was befo-'
'HA! Shall remain as it was?' The Lady of Albany's old and wrinkled face was wrinkled once more, this time in a cunning smile. 'What of those men who ascended to heaven before they were due, slain upon the fields of Fife and Gowrie, or manning the walls of Scone? And yet you have the audacity to claim that everything is the same, knowing it was your knee bending leading to those deaths being in vain?'
Both King Dermid and his Anglo-Saxon counterpart, King Eadweald, were silent for a time. It was true. With Dermid coming close to losing the war for Gowrie, he bent the knee and gave nominal lip service to the King Eadweald, in exchange for an alliance and protection. The Anglo-Saxon host had shattered the Swedish host running amok in theLothians, and had routed the Albanite host chasing the remains of what little men Dermid had. Eadweald's forces had retaken Scone with fire and blood, storming the castle, putting the garrison and many of the inhabitants to the sword, ransacking the surrounding town, looting and raping, and claimed protection. The work of Albion, no less. House Mac Duib had had few dealings with the South during Effie's lifetime, but the stories were culture.
Ever one to prove his bravery, Dermid was quick to speak up again. 'Do you know what it is they say, woman? They say, History is written by the victor. We all know I won, with your forces running off to prepare to die defending Cupar. The victor, I tell you!'
Effie smirked. 'No. History is written by the independent. And what are you? Oh yes, our good friend King England's puppet. I shall make sure the people of the future know who killed their fathers and sons, who despoiled their mothers and daughters.'
Dermid's face flushed a dark red, yet King Eadwald remained unmoved. She knew the sort, those who attempted to not be baited into anger, especially by a woman. His eyes remained downcast throughout the whole meeting, yet alert, looking prepared to interject at any wrong suggestion. Yet he had said nought but greetings.
Dermid took a deep breath, and exhaled. 'Good lady, in my name as King of Scotland, ordained by the King of England, I sign this treaty. I.... request.... you add your signature to it as well.'
The signature was signed, and the various parties retreated back to their capitals.
Many things could be said of the old Duke Constantine, one of Effie's ancestors. Constantine the Just, Constantine the Pious, Constantine the Apostle, but to Effie, he was Constantine the Architect. His reign featured many things, one of them being the great expansion of the Castle Cupar, for which Effie was mighty grateful. The castle was, though not a large one, a comfortable one. Thick stone walls kept out whatever elements the outside sought to throw at them, and also allowed for fires to be lit deep in the basements of the castle, leading to the heat spreading through the walls and insulating Cupar during wintertime. It was a comfort all who entered the castle felt, and one which Effie felt now. How is the Kingdom out of our grasp? Successive generations of Mac Duib have lived and died in service to the King in Scone, and my father gave us independence from them. Effie's head was in her hands, her grey hair tumbling down and passing through the gaps between her old and wrinkled fingers. Yet I was the one to fail the dream right in front of me. Gowrie, and with it Castle Scone, was the key to the Kingdom, and without it, no pretender to Scotland could hold much legitimacy. We need not even make it our capital, just merely hold it. An estate, mayhaps. The Great Duke Constantine had reduced his own demesne down to merely County Fife and Castle Cupar, granting the other titles of his to his sons equally, which had led to successive rebellions, yet the Mac Duib in Cupar had always prevailed. Let us view the chronicles. A collection of ongoing books, one of the previous Lord's Mac Duib had been known as the Scholar, and ordered the creation of an ongoing chronicle of House Mac Duib. Effie began to read.
House Mac Duib of Atholl
Currently ruled by an Adam Mac Duib, Duke Constantine had seen fit to envelop the bastard House Atholl into his own sub realm. Inviting the brother of the Lord Atholl of the time, Paul of Atholl, Constantine married a female Mac Duib matrilineally to Paul, conquered the County, then granted Paul the County. Current Mac Duib's of Atholl claimed descendant from Strong Paul, who had died in service to House Mac Duib in their campaigns against House Crovan of the Isles. If only more vassals were like Strong Paul... Effie began ...but how can I say that? She smiled, and took a sip of red wine. We betrayed the King of Scotland.
House Mac Duib of Strathearn
House Mac Duib of Strathearn claims descendant from the third of the sons of Constantine, and has remained since then. Thankfully they have forsaken any claim to Albany. Though no one forgot how many times Strathearn had declared for the Mac Duib in Clydesdale instead of the Mac Duib in Fife. Mayhaps a replacement is in order. She took another sip of the sweet, red Cluny wine.
House Mac Duib of Clydesdale
The current House Mac Duib of Clydesdale was a recently created House, replacing the previous House Mac Duib of Clydesdale, who claimed descendant from the second son of Constantine, and who's claim had troubled many Lord's Fife, until their land was revoked and replaced with a lesser branch of House Mac Duib. So far this man with no claim has done nought but serve his superior in Fife. Mayhaps this shall serve as an example to future Lord's Fife of whom they make a Lord. She made a mental note to pass the knowledge on to future heirs.
House Mac Duib of Carrick
One of the more recent conquests of the Lord in Fife, the Carrick branch of House Mac Duib claimed descendant from a lesser son, and still held their claim to Albany and to Fife, yet had not deigned to press the claim in revolt. A good branch, a mix of pride and humility. Another sip of the wine, and the glass was drained. There was a small pounding in Effie's head, and she began to reach for the bottle. No, I must focus. These next plans are the plans of a Queen, not a drunkard.
House Mac Duib of Man
When the Lord of Man had inherited a County in Ireland through marriage and assassination, it gained the attention of the Lord in Fife - a strong vassal is a dangerous vassal. Through fabricated documents and rumours, the Lord in Fife had stripped the Lord of Man of the title of Lord Man, leaving him with only Ossory, and exiling House Ivaring to Ossory. What was found on the island was horrific. Under Castle Douglas were found torture chambers to the cruelest extent, many containing still live prisoners lacking several parts of their bodies, seemingly being subject to this misery to satisfy the old Lord Ivaring in some form of perverse pleasure. When Effie's father died, the Island passed to her sister, who Effie did not trust. The Island was powerful, that was the truth of it - containing a strong fortress only accessible by sea, inspiring fear in the hearts of enemies to never go near, or they would find themselves in it's inner chambers. When the slightest inkling of rebellion was raised, armies were sent to crush whatever Lady Alice could muster, and she was imprisoned by Effie. I must make sure the Isle remains in the hand of the most senior Mac Duib, must like Gowrie. A strong and fearsome demesne is only fitting of a ruler.
Future House Mac Duib of Argyll
Though the Lady in Argyll also claimed the title Duchess of Man, she did not actually hold the Isle. Once I rule Scotland, I will strip the title of them, leaving them only Argyll. Despite her title, the Lady Argyll had married patrilineally, to a Mac Duib no less, and he heirs were of House Mac Duib, though they would be sworn to Scotland.
Now I must focus on family problems.
It was a rumour that Effie's little brother had been murdered by their grandfather Donald. When her brother was born, Effie was nearly a woman grown, and had been the future heir after her father for many years, till her brother was born. 'You have great potential, Effie, and I swear by the almighty god I will do something sinful to keep you as heir.' The brother had died later that year, said to be sickly, but Effie knew what had truly happened. She closed her eyes, tearing up. If only he had lived long enough to see my kids, his great grandchildren. She blinked once, drying her few tears, and steadying herself. Donald had died fighting in the Moray province, supporting the King of Scotland against northern rebels and Norwegian raiders. How did we go from dying for the King of Scotland to dying to be the King of Scotland?
Effie's father had sent away her first son, to join the Knights Hospitaller, and disqualifying him from succession, leading to Effie's second son becoming the heir. Now the trouble of his children bothered the Lady of Albany. Her first grandson, Gregor, had taken his features from his Hungarian mother who had died birthing him, looking far more Magyar than Celtic. The child's only personality feature seemed to be his cruelty, as he would often skip tutoring and be found torturing small animals, slowly and methodically. I should send him to the Isle. Her second grandson, Constantine, had the red hair and freckled face of the Celtic peoples, and seemed to be a strong and healthy baby at birth. And he's named after the Grand old Duke. My own grandfather killed my brother, my father exiled my son, can I live up to them? Can I ever be as good as the old masters? She sighed, refilling her glass with the wine of Cluny, and draining it all. It must be Constantine. How could it not be?
Despite being alone, she didn't want to think the question, so she whispered it aloud, to her empty, empty chamber.
'Then how must I get rid of Gregor?'
She clasped her hands together, biting the knuckle of her left index finger. Will I ever be as good as the old masters? As Constantine, who took us from Earls to Dukes? Like my grandfather Donald, who died an honourable death in the north? This is the work of a Queen.....
.....but will I always be the Lady in Albany?
Game Information : Played on most recent patch, all DLC before Conclave activated. No Sunset Invasion. Played in Ironman Mode. Played on Windows 7.
THE LADY OF ALBANY
Chapter 1
'So it's settled,' the King of the Scots began, 'the war between our two entities is to cease for time immemorial, and a truce enforcing this shall be valid for 15 years. Nothing shall change hands, everything shall remain as it was befo-'
'HA! Shall remain as it was?' The Lady of Albany's old and wrinkled face was wrinkled once more, this time in a cunning smile. 'What of those men who ascended to heaven before they were due, slain upon the fields of Fife and Gowrie, or manning the walls of Scone? And yet you have the audacity to claim that everything is the same, knowing it was your knee bending leading to those deaths being in vain?'
Both King Dermid and his Anglo-Saxon counterpart, King Eadweald, were silent for a time. It was true. With Dermid coming close to losing the war for Gowrie, he bent the knee and gave nominal lip service to the King Eadweald, in exchange for an alliance and protection. The Anglo-Saxon host had shattered the Swedish host running amok in theLothians, and had routed the Albanite host chasing the remains of what little men Dermid had. Eadweald's forces had retaken Scone with fire and blood, storming the castle, putting the garrison and many of the inhabitants to the sword, ransacking the surrounding town, looting and raping, and claimed protection. The work of Albion, no less. House Mac Duib had had few dealings with the South during Effie's lifetime, but the stories were culture.
Ever one to prove his bravery, Dermid was quick to speak up again. 'Do you know what it is they say, woman? They say, History is written by the victor. We all know I won, with your forces running off to prepare to die defending Cupar. The victor, I tell you!'
Effie smirked. 'No. History is written by the independent. And what are you? Oh yes, our good friend King England's puppet. I shall make sure the people of the future know who killed their fathers and sons, who despoiled their mothers and daughters.'
Dermid's face flushed a dark red, yet King Eadwald remained unmoved. She knew the sort, those who attempted to not be baited into anger, especially by a woman. His eyes remained downcast throughout the whole meeting, yet alert, looking prepared to interject at any wrong suggestion. Yet he had said nought but greetings.
Dermid took a deep breath, and exhaled. 'Good lady, in my name as King of Scotland, ordained by the King of England, I sign this treaty. I.... request.... you add your signature to it as well.'
The signature was signed, and the various parties retreated back to their capitals.
Many things could be said of the old Duke Constantine, one of Effie's ancestors. Constantine the Just, Constantine the Pious, Constantine the Apostle, but to Effie, he was Constantine the Architect. His reign featured many things, one of them being the great expansion of the Castle Cupar, for which Effie was mighty grateful. The castle was, though not a large one, a comfortable one. Thick stone walls kept out whatever elements the outside sought to throw at them, and also allowed for fires to be lit deep in the basements of the castle, leading to the heat spreading through the walls and insulating Cupar during wintertime. It was a comfort all who entered the castle felt, and one which Effie felt now. How is the Kingdom out of our grasp? Successive generations of Mac Duib have lived and died in service to the King in Scone, and my father gave us independence from them. Effie's head was in her hands, her grey hair tumbling down and passing through the gaps between her old and wrinkled fingers. Yet I was the one to fail the dream right in front of me. Gowrie, and with it Castle Scone, was the key to the Kingdom, and without it, no pretender to Scotland could hold much legitimacy. We need not even make it our capital, just merely hold it. An estate, mayhaps. The Great Duke Constantine had reduced his own demesne down to merely County Fife and Castle Cupar, granting the other titles of his to his sons equally, which had led to successive rebellions, yet the Mac Duib in Cupar had always prevailed. Let us view the chronicles. A collection of ongoing books, one of the previous Lord's Mac Duib had been known as the Scholar, and ordered the creation of an ongoing chronicle of House Mac Duib. Effie began to read.
House Mac Duib of Atholl
Currently ruled by an Adam Mac Duib, Duke Constantine had seen fit to envelop the bastard House Atholl into his own sub realm. Inviting the brother of the Lord Atholl of the time, Paul of Atholl, Constantine married a female Mac Duib matrilineally to Paul, conquered the County, then granted Paul the County. Current Mac Duib's of Atholl claimed descendant from Strong Paul, who had died in service to House Mac Duib in their campaigns against House Crovan of the Isles. If only more vassals were like Strong Paul... Effie began ...but how can I say that? She smiled, and took a sip of red wine. We betrayed the King of Scotland.
House Mac Duib of Strathearn
House Mac Duib of Strathearn claims descendant from the third of the sons of Constantine, and has remained since then. Thankfully they have forsaken any claim to Albany. Though no one forgot how many times Strathearn had declared for the Mac Duib in Clydesdale instead of the Mac Duib in Fife. Mayhaps a replacement is in order. She took another sip of the sweet, red Cluny wine.
House Mac Duib of Clydesdale
The current House Mac Duib of Clydesdale was a recently created House, replacing the previous House Mac Duib of Clydesdale, who claimed descendant from the second son of Constantine, and who's claim had troubled many Lord's Fife, until their land was revoked and replaced with a lesser branch of House Mac Duib. So far this man with no claim has done nought but serve his superior in Fife. Mayhaps this shall serve as an example to future Lord's Fife of whom they make a Lord. She made a mental note to pass the knowledge on to future heirs.
House Mac Duib of Carrick
One of the more recent conquests of the Lord in Fife, the Carrick branch of House Mac Duib claimed descendant from a lesser son, and still held their claim to Albany and to Fife, yet had not deigned to press the claim in revolt. A good branch, a mix of pride and humility. Another sip of the wine, and the glass was drained. There was a small pounding in Effie's head, and she began to reach for the bottle. No, I must focus. These next plans are the plans of a Queen, not a drunkard.
House Mac Duib of Man
When the Lord of Man had inherited a County in Ireland through marriage and assassination, it gained the attention of the Lord in Fife - a strong vassal is a dangerous vassal. Through fabricated documents and rumours, the Lord in Fife had stripped the Lord of Man of the title of Lord Man, leaving him with only Ossory, and exiling House Ivaring to Ossory. What was found on the island was horrific. Under Castle Douglas were found torture chambers to the cruelest extent, many containing still live prisoners lacking several parts of their bodies, seemingly being subject to this misery to satisfy the old Lord Ivaring in some form of perverse pleasure. When Effie's father died, the Island passed to her sister, who Effie did not trust. The Island was powerful, that was the truth of it - containing a strong fortress only accessible by sea, inspiring fear in the hearts of enemies to never go near, or they would find themselves in it's inner chambers. When the slightest inkling of rebellion was raised, armies were sent to crush whatever Lady Alice could muster, and she was imprisoned by Effie. I must make sure the Isle remains in the hand of the most senior Mac Duib, must like Gowrie. A strong and fearsome demesne is only fitting of a ruler.
Future House Mac Duib of Argyll
Though the Lady in Argyll also claimed the title Duchess of Man, she did not actually hold the Isle. Once I rule Scotland, I will strip the title of them, leaving them only Argyll. Despite her title, the Lady Argyll had married patrilineally, to a Mac Duib no less, and he heirs were of House Mac Duib, though they would be sworn to Scotland.
Now I must focus on family problems.
It was a rumour that Effie's little brother had been murdered by their grandfather Donald. When her brother was born, Effie was nearly a woman grown, and had been the future heir after her father for many years, till her brother was born. 'You have great potential, Effie, and I swear by the almighty god I will do something sinful to keep you as heir.' The brother had died later that year, said to be sickly, but Effie knew what had truly happened. She closed her eyes, tearing up. If only he had lived long enough to see my kids, his great grandchildren. She blinked once, drying her few tears, and steadying herself. Donald had died fighting in the Moray province, supporting the King of Scotland against northern rebels and Norwegian raiders. How did we go from dying for the King of Scotland to dying to be the King of Scotland?
Effie's father had sent away her first son, to join the Knights Hospitaller, and disqualifying him from succession, leading to Effie's second son becoming the heir. Now the trouble of his children bothered the Lady of Albany. Her first grandson, Gregor, had taken his features from his Hungarian mother who had died birthing him, looking far more Magyar than Celtic. The child's only personality feature seemed to be his cruelty, as he would often skip tutoring and be found torturing small animals, slowly and methodically. I should send him to the Isle. Her second grandson, Constantine, had the red hair and freckled face of the Celtic peoples, and seemed to be a strong and healthy baby at birth. And he's named after the Grand old Duke. My own grandfather killed my brother, my father exiled my son, can I live up to them? Can I ever be as good as the old masters? She sighed, refilling her glass with the wine of Cluny, and draining it all. It must be Constantine. How could it not be?
Despite being alone, she didn't want to think the question, so she whispered it aloud, to her empty, empty chamber.
'Then how must I get rid of Gregor?'
She clasped her hands together, biting the knuckle of her left index finger. Will I ever be as good as the old masters? As Constantine, who took us from Earls to Dukes? Like my grandfather Donald, who died an honourable death in the north? This is the work of a Queen.....
.....but will I always be the Lady in Albany?
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