I'm enjoying the murder, the sex and the conquest - but no insanity yet. They seem just like my family 
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Thanks for the replies. You know, sometimes it's easier to think of a big word that expresses what you want to say. The little ones don't have quite the same meaning. For instance in that phrase "the ministrations of a pair of his favorite courtesans," it would be hard to convey (once again, I can't think of anything more fitting ) the same meaning using simpler words. A more familiar word like prostitute, hooker or whore would not let the reader know that these were very refined ladies, as were most who sold their services to powerful bishops and nobles. As for ministrations, I wanted to use a euphemism, so "sexual acrobatics of his favorite courtesans" would not have worked I could have used the word services, but it is much drier. To minister has connotations of giving aid and comfort, to serve or service lacks those. Service might be more accurate in fact, but it is less euphemistic. In short, the big words stay. I can't really help myself
Director, I'm not surprised you should notice that. Your family was my model, after all
Note- If anyone catches me misusing a word, please bring it to my attention. I'd rather have egg on my face in front of the dozen people reading this than have egg on my face in front of half of them and continue going around collecting yolk. Any critique is welcome, of course.
) the same meaning using simpler words. A more familiar word like prostitute, hooker or whore would not let the reader know that these were very refined ladies, as were most who sold their services to powerful bishops and nobles. As for ministrations, I wanted to use a euphemism, so "sexual acrobatics of his favorite courtesans" would not have worked I could have used the word services, but it is much drier. To minister has connotations of giving aid and comfort, to serve or service lacks those. Service might be more accurate in fact, but it is less euphemistic. In short, the big words stay. I can't really help myself Director, I'm not surprised you should notice that. Your family was my model, after all
Note- If anyone catches me misusing a word, please bring it to my attention. I'd rather have egg on my face in front of the dozen people reading this than have egg on my face in front of half of them and continue going around collecting yolk. Any critique is welcome, of course.
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Peter of Wurzburg. That name never ceased to rankle him.
As a young priest growing up in Munster, he had dreamed about one day becoming bishop. He suspected his ambition was sinful, but couldn't help himself. He would be known as the greatest bishop Munster had ever had. Why did "Peter of Wurzburg" have to exist?
Ten months the bishop had served in Wurzburg before going on pilgrimage. Write a few books, a celebrated meeting with the Greek emperor that had no real import, and his name became known throughout Europe. After a short tenure as bishop in Wurzburg, he had been sent here. Now Peter was bishop of Munster.
It was just what he wanted except one thing- his damn name. Of course, he had no control over what name publishers placed on the cover of his book nor could he have kept the Byzantine emperor from refering to him as "the priest from Wurzburg." What really bothered him was hearing parishioners who had attended his masses, childhood friends, even couples he had wed refering to him with the new title, as if he were an outsider.
This was what really bothered him. Even though he had struck up a friendship with Duke Heinrich von Munster(an adopted family name, if Otto had one it remains unknown), he felt unable to put any real influence on the realm. The people considered him a foreigner and conveniently dismissed anything he said for that reason. His underlings in the clergy considered him too much of a free thinker and the duke kept his own counsel. Heinrich had repeatedly taken measures the bishop thought unnecessary and even harmful. The ban on German and Dutch translations of the bible was understandable and in accordance with church policy. The ban on translations of Dante was not. The duke wished to keep his subjects illiterate, parochial, and subservient; Peter didn't think this policy was best in the long run.*
Peter was startled when he heard the door begin to open. The duchess walked in the room and motioned him to the confessional box. Here, ironically, was the only place he had any real influence, in his capacity as personal confessor to the duke and duchess. He walked in and sat in the booth, mentally preparing himself to give spiritual guidance.
The duchess was now in her mid-20s and looked even more beautiful than she had as a young bride. She was wearing a blue silk gown that showed off the curves of her legs and her slender rear and her- Stop that! You're supposed to be giving spiritual guidance, not ogling the woman. The bishop began counting paint splotches in the corner of the confessional.
"Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession."
She hesitated. "Go on, my child."
"I have harbored hatred and not shown charity. I have done this for the past ten years, and I'm not sure I am not still doing so."
"Toward whom?" the bishop asked, knowing the answer.
"My husband, the duke. I . . . He took something very dear to me."
"Yes?" The bishop remembered her husband's account of the murder very well.
"He . . . killed someone. Someone I loved very much. My . . . lover." She glanced away from the booth. "I suppose I should confess that as well. I had sexual relations before marriage. My lover sought me out at the duke's castle and I would have committed adultery had my husband not interrupted us. But in my view, I was married to Percy before God and the forced marriage to Heinrich was the true sin."
The bishop sighed. What could he say to her? Church doctrine on this matter was fairly ambiguous, especially the way lay members understood it. He could not judge her too harshly for her fornication, he himself had dallied once or twice before becoming a priest. On the other hand, she must realize that she
was married to Heinrich and that fornication and adultery were sins.
"Did a priest or even a civil magistrate marry you to this man?"
"No."
"Then you were not married. You committed fornication with him and your marriage to the duke is legitimate. You must acknowledge and repent of this sin before you may be atoned." His gentle manner softened the rebuke immensely.
"But I thought . . ."
"Marriage may be a blessed union of two hearts before God, but it is also a union before society. Your love for this man does not by itself constitute a marriage."
"I suppose you're right."
"Do you still feel hatred toward your husband?"
"I try not to."
"For now, I would have you repeat the pater nostrum 10 times and reflect on the kind of person God would have you to be. You also must acknowledge and repent of your fornication. God is quick to forgive, but we must first repent."
"I'll keep your words close to my heart, father." She got up and walked out of the room. As she walked her hips undulated in a very fetching manner. Peter made a mental note to include this in his next confession. He could just hear Father Hansel clucking.
*This is something I believe true in real life. However, the game doesn't reflect that. There is little reason to go innovative. You don't get missionaries, you don't become more tolerant of different religions and you don't lose the malus associated with provinces having a different religion than the state.
As a young priest growing up in Munster, he had dreamed about one day becoming bishop. He suspected his ambition was sinful, but couldn't help himself. He would be known as the greatest bishop Munster had ever had. Why did "Peter of Wurzburg" have to exist?
Ten months the bishop had served in Wurzburg before going on pilgrimage. Write a few books, a celebrated meeting with the Greek emperor that had no real import, and his name became known throughout Europe. After a short tenure as bishop in Wurzburg, he had been sent here. Now Peter was bishop of Munster.
It was just what he wanted except one thing- his damn name. Of course, he had no control over what name publishers placed on the cover of his book nor could he have kept the Byzantine emperor from refering to him as "the priest from Wurzburg." What really bothered him was hearing parishioners who had attended his masses, childhood friends, even couples he had wed refering to him with the new title, as if he were an outsider.
This was what really bothered him. Even though he had struck up a friendship with Duke Heinrich von Munster(an adopted family name, if Otto had one it remains unknown), he felt unable to put any real influence on the realm. The people considered him a foreigner and conveniently dismissed anything he said for that reason. His underlings in the clergy considered him too much of a free thinker and the duke kept his own counsel. Heinrich had repeatedly taken measures the bishop thought unnecessary and even harmful. The ban on German and Dutch translations of the bible was understandable and in accordance with church policy. The ban on translations of Dante was not. The duke wished to keep his subjects illiterate, parochial, and subservient; Peter didn't think this policy was best in the long run.*
Peter was startled when he heard the door begin to open. The duchess walked in the room and motioned him to the confessional box. Here, ironically, was the only place he had any real influence, in his capacity as personal confessor to the duke and duchess. He walked in and sat in the booth, mentally preparing himself to give spiritual guidance.
The duchess was now in her mid-20s and looked even more beautiful than she had as a young bride. She was wearing a blue silk gown that showed off the curves of her legs and her slender rear and her- Stop that! You're supposed to be giving spiritual guidance, not ogling the woman. The bishop began counting paint splotches in the corner of the confessional.
"Forgive me father, for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession."
She hesitated. "Go on, my child."
"I have harbored hatred and not shown charity. I have done this for the past ten years, and I'm not sure I am not still doing so."
"Toward whom?" the bishop asked, knowing the answer.
"My husband, the duke. I . . . He took something very dear to me."
"Yes?" The bishop remembered her husband's account of the murder very well.
"He . . . killed someone. Someone I loved very much. My . . . lover." She glanced away from the booth. "I suppose I should confess that as well. I had sexual relations before marriage. My lover sought me out at the duke's castle and I would have committed adultery had my husband not interrupted us. But in my view, I was married to Percy before God and the forced marriage to Heinrich was the true sin."
The bishop sighed. What could he say to her? Church doctrine on this matter was fairly ambiguous, especially the way lay members understood it. He could not judge her too harshly for her fornication, he himself had dallied once or twice before becoming a priest. On the other hand, she must realize that she
was married to Heinrich and that fornication and adultery were sins.
"Did a priest or even a civil magistrate marry you to this man?"
"No."
"Then you were not married. You committed fornication with him and your marriage to the duke is legitimate. You must acknowledge and repent of this sin before you may be atoned." His gentle manner softened the rebuke immensely.
"But I thought . . ."
"Marriage may be a blessed union of two hearts before God, but it is also a union before society. Your love for this man does not by itself constitute a marriage."
"I suppose you're right."
"Do you still feel hatred toward your husband?"
"I try not to."
"For now, I would have you repeat the pater nostrum 10 times and reflect on the kind of person God would have you to be. You also must acknowledge and repent of your fornication. God is quick to forgive, but we must first repent."
"I'll keep your words close to my heart, father." She got up and walked out of the room. As she walked her hips undulated in a very fetching manner. Peter made a mental note to include this in his next confession. He could just hear Father Hansel clucking.
*This is something I believe true in real life. However, the game doesn't reflect that. There is little reason to go innovative. You don't get missionaries, you don't become more tolerant of different religions and you don't lose the malus associated with provinces having a different religion than the state.
May 4, 1438
Heinrich was finally at peace with the world. Saskia had softened greatly over the past years and now they had an infant daughter. The 12-year-old Walram had grown nearly his father's size and could very well grow to be a giant like his grandfather. Probably not the slight musician's son after all, he gladly reflected. The boy showed great piety, spending several hours daily in prayer and he was no slouch at athletic competitions either. However, he did lack the veneer of refinement which was so crucial to running a state. That will come in time, the duke was sure of it.
The years since the Second Burgundian War had been fairly quiet in his holdings in Westphalia and the Low Country. A few Dutch nationalist revolts had been put down easily. His realm had continued to increase its infrastructure and its trade investments abroad. The army was in fine condition, but little used. The past five years had been very pleasant, now he hoped to maintain the peace for five more.
That might be hard in this political climate, he wryly reflected. While his nation had been at peace, the rest of Europe had been a bubbling cauldron. The Danes had absorbed Norway into their realm after Sweden had broken away from them. The Danes and the Polish Alliance were both greedily eating up the Hansa. The Castilian king had become suzerain to both the kings of Portugal and Navarra. Closer to home, Burgundy had shown it still had some claws, annexing Luxembourg. A bible passage sprung to mind- "Wars and rumors of wars," indeed. Perhaps, he was now living in the end times.
His thoughts were distracted by the sound of rain drops pitter pattering on the roof. He went to the window and looked out. Strange, he hadn't noticed the storm coming. A sudden urge made him decide to head toward the duchess's suite. As he turned toward the door, a guard came in. "My Lord Duke, a ragged looking man claiming to be an ambassador from Geldre is here to see you."
Great. Matters of state to attend to. With a heartfelt sigh, the duke motioned the guard to show the man in.
Heinrich was finally at peace with the world. Saskia had softened greatly over the past years and now they had an infant daughter. The 12-year-old Walram had grown nearly his father's size and could very well grow to be a giant like his grandfather. Probably not the slight musician's son after all, he gladly reflected. The boy showed great piety, spending several hours daily in prayer and he was no slouch at athletic competitions either. However, he did lack the veneer of refinement which was so crucial to running a state. That will come in time, the duke was sure of it.
The years since the Second Burgundian War had been fairly quiet in his holdings in Westphalia and the Low Country. A few Dutch nationalist revolts had been put down easily. His realm had continued to increase its infrastructure and its trade investments abroad. The army was in fine condition, but little used. The past five years had been very pleasant, now he hoped to maintain the peace for five more.
That might be hard in this political climate, he wryly reflected. While his nation had been at peace, the rest of Europe had been a bubbling cauldron. The Danes had absorbed Norway into their realm after Sweden had broken away from them. The Danes and the Polish Alliance were both greedily eating up the Hansa. The Castilian king had become suzerain to both the kings of Portugal and Navarra. Closer to home, Burgundy had shown it still had some claws, annexing Luxembourg. A bible passage sprung to mind- "Wars and rumors of wars," indeed. Perhaps, he was now living in the end times.
His thoughts were distracted by the sound of rain drops pitter pattering on the roof. He went to the window and looked out. Strange, he hadn't noticed the storm coming. A sudden urge made him decide to head toward the duchess's suite. As he turned toward the door, a guard came in. "My Lord Duke, a ragged looking man claiming to be an ambassador from Geldre is here to see you."
Great. Matters of state to attend to. With a heartfelt sigh, the duke motioned the guard to show the man in.
That's a really nice piece of characterisation. Sorry it's taken me a while to read your AAR but, having done so, I find it quite captivating. You've done a great job of bringing humanity into your characters, something that can be hard to accomplish. Keep up the good work.
LD, thanks. I was a bit worried my characters weren't believable enough.
Gotta catch up on school work, so updates will be rare for the next week or two. This doesn't mean I've given up on this project though.
Gotta catch up on school work, so updates will be rare for the next week or two. This doesn't mean I've given up on this project though.
Duke Philippe Le Bon was ambitious. And persistent. Heinrich had to give him credit for that.
Fortunately, his wisdom did not match his audacity.
The French duke's agents had gone around the Low Country, stirring up support for a Dutch nation, with Philippe presumably as the head. After receiving news that the country was his for the taking, he acted. Philippe declared war on Geldre within months of the end of their truce, knowing full well that Munster would enter the war.
The Dutch in Westphalian territory made a few half-hearted uprisings in support of Duke Philippe, but they were quelled easily. The duke had foolishly gambled on an inflated opinion of his Dutch support and even more foolishly disregarded the strength of Munster's army.
The professional German army had easily routed both the piddling Burgundian troops in the area and the Dutch rabble. They at least were loyal to the von Munsters.
His father had seen Philippe as a beast who would conquer the whole world if he could. He had argued that Philippe was a typical ruler. With hindsight came the realization that the Burgundian duke was neither. He was simply a very ambitious, very foolish man.
The thought of his father made Heinrich unconsciously cross himself, as he always did. The German duke took the pen and signed the piece of parchment and pushed it across the table.
The French duke slowly took the treaty and let out a sound halfway between a grunt and a sigh as he signed away his claims on Holland and Artois.
Heinrich snatched up the paper and held it up. "Now we again have peace. Tonight we celebrate!" He got up and led the procession into the banquet hall, motioning the musicians to play. He had recently acquired a lion from Africa, and tonight he was going to see it tear apart several dogs. At least he hoped so. It would be a damn waste of money if the lion lost. This would truly be a night to remember, the duke mused, as he tossed back his mug of ale.
Fortunately, his wisdom did not match his audacity.
The French duke's agents had gone around the Low Country, stirring up support for a Dutch nation, with Philippe presumably as the head. After receiving news that the country was his for the taking, he acted. Philippe declared war on Geldre within months of the end of their truce, knowing full well that Munster would enter the war.
The Dutch in Westphalian territory made a few half-hearted uprisings in support of Duke Philippe, but they were quelled easily. The duke had foolishly gambled on an inflated opinion of his Dutch support and even more foolishly disregarded the strength of Munster's army.
The professional German army had easily routed both the piddling Burgundian troops in the area and the Dutch rabble. They at least were loyal to the von Munsters.
His father had seen Philippe as a beast who would conquer the whole world if he could. He had argued that Philippe was a typical ruler. With hindsight came the realization that the Burgundian duke was neither. He was simply a very ambitious, very foolish man.
The thought of his father made Heinrich unconsciously cross himself, as he always did. The German duke took the pen and signed the piece of parchment and pushed it across the table.
The French duke slowly took the treaty and let out a sound halfway between a grunt and a sigh as he signed away his claims on Holland and Artois.
Heinrich snatched up the paper and held it up. "Now we again have peace. Tonight we celebrate!" He got up and led the procession into the banquet hall, motioning the musicians to play. He had recently acquired a lion from Africa, and tonight he was going to see it tear apart several dogs. At least he hoped so. It would be a damn waste of money if the lion lost. This would truly be a night to remember, the duke mused, as he tossed back his mug of ale.
"Pssst. Sebastian! I don't know if I can keep this up! How much longer can they possibly want us to play?" whispered Johann.
"Shhhh! I can't concentrate when you keep talking!" Sebastian shot back, slumping against his cello. "We were instructed to keep playing for the celebration, so we keep playing!"
The quartet continued playing for an undeterminable amount of time.
"Pssst. Sebastian! This is getting quite silly! It seems like we've been playing for days. My wrists feel as if they'll slip off the ends of my arms, my wig's lost all of its powder, and to be honest, I'm beginning to notice my own...odor!"
Sebastian looked over at his compatriot, but continued playing, not even pausing to brush away a wayward dog-part. "Maybe it's been days, maybe it's been mere hours, but I am sure when it is time to progress to something else, we will be told."
And so the celebration continued, with the musicians, and others, waiting for what would come next.....
------------------
OOC: More, more! Don't keep us at this party forever!
"Shhhh! I can't concentrate when you keep talking!" Sebastian shot back, slumping against his cello. "We were instructed to keep playing for the celebration, so we keep playing!"
The quartet continued playing for an undeterminable amount of time.
"Pssst. Sebastian! This is getting quite silly! It seems like we've been playing for days. My wrists feel as if they'll slip off the ends of my arms, my wig's lost all of its powder, and to be honest, I'm beginning to notice my own...odor!"
Sebastian looked over at his compatriot, but continued playing, not even pausing to brush away a wayward dog-part. "Maybe it's been days, maybe it's been mere hours, but I am sure when it is time to progress to something else, we will be told."
And so the celebration continued, with the musicians, and others, waiting for what would come next.....
------------------
OOC: More, more! Don't keep us at this party forever!
From Father Hansel's diary:
April 4, 1443
The moment I feared has come again. We are at war. After joining our alliance, the Swedes wasted little time before launching an unholy crusade against the Danes. The duke honored his alliance readily, so we are once again involved in aggression against a fellow Christian state.
Duke Heinrich von Munster. A man of unquestionable ability. Enormously intelligent, theologically sound, and while not a brute like his father, he is still quite strong. He could be a great ruler, but I fear he has inherited his father's bloodlust. He is dedicated to having the strongest, most qualified army around, just as his father was. He also takes great satisfaction in bloody animal fights and public executions. According to palace gossip, he appears in my Lady's room at night far more than is necessary. I suppose it to his credit that he at least appears to be faithful. The fact remains, he is a man of enormous physical appetites.
Bishop Peter is a godly man, of that there is no doubt. However, I think he is perhaps a little too otherworldly, or naive, perhaps. He is quite lenient with the duke, I must say. What truly puzzles me is that he could go along with the aggression against Denmark. Perhaps he spends too much time with his books and his prayers to see this war for what it really is.
May God have mercy on us all.
From Saskia von Munster's diary
April 4, 1443
It appears we are at war again. I have no fears that our armies will fail us, however I am in terror. Heinrich has agreed to let my Walram go to war. I protested that the boy was only 16 and he was not at all ready for this, but the duke would have none of it. Walram is now on his way to join the army, and I am here alone to fret over him.
From Peter of Wurzburg's diary
April 4, 1443
Once again, the trumpets blast and the armies of Westphalia march into battle. Our Swedish allies have called for our aid, and the duke has granted it. If it be God's will, we shall prevail.
I still have doubts of the justice of our cause. While Sweden and Denmark have claimed the same lands for centuries, that is certainly none of our affair. However, the duke made a promise to Sweden, and one must keep one's word. This situation poses quite a dilemma.
As I am unsure of the right course in this matter, I could not adequately guide the duke. Father Hansel was obviously quite shocked when I told Duke von Munster that his conscious should guide him in this matter. The best course would be to have not promised to aid the belligerent Swedes, but that is water under the bridge.
From Heinrich von Munster's (sporadically kept) journal
April 9, 1443
Preparations for battle against the Danes proceeds apace. My son appears to be taking to army life quite well.
Some may question the justice of this war. While their objections have merit, they are not rulers. Besides our understanding with Sweden, there is the fact that the Danes have been belligerents themselves, and conquered several German provinces. If we sit idly by, we ourselves will be absorbed. So we go to battle to honor our alliance with Sweden and to free the German people from their Danish yoke. May God grant us victory.
From what would have been Walram von Munster's diary if he kept one
April 1443
Finally, my father is allowing me to fight! After years of seeing him ride out without me, I get to accompany him and join the army. Now I get to experience it myself. I only hope the battles aren't all done by the time I get there.
April 4, 1443
The moment I feared has come again. We are at war. After joining our alliance, the Swedes wasted little time before launching an unholy crusade against the Danes. The duke honored his alliance readily, so we are once again involved in aggression against a fellow Christian state.
Duke Heinrich von Munster. A man of unquestionable ability. Enormously intelligent, theologically sound, and while not a brute like his father, he is still quite strong. He could be a great ruler, but I fear he has inherited his father's bloodlust. He is dedicated to having the strongest, most qualified army around, just as his father was. He also takes great satisfaction in bloody animal fights and public executions. According to palace gossip, he appears in my Lady's room at night far more than is necessary. I suppose it to his credit that he at least appears to be faithful. The fact remains, he is a man of enormous physical appetites.
Bishop Peter is a godly man, of that there is no doubt. However, I think he is perhaps a little too otherworldly, or naive, perhaps. He is quite lenient with the duke, I must say. What truly puzzles me is that he could go along with the aggression against Denmark. Perhaps he spends too much time with his books and his prayers to see this war for what it really is.
May God have mercy on us all.
From Saskia von Munster's diary
April 4, 1443
It appears we are at war again. I have no fears that our armies will fail us, however I am in terror. Heinrich has agreed to let my Walram go to war. I protested that the boy was only 16 and he was not at all ready for this, but the duke would have none of it. Walram is now on his way to join the army, and I am here alone to fret over him.
From Peter of Wurzburg's diary
April 4, 1443
Once again, the trumpets blast and the armies of Westphalia march into battle. Our Swedish allies have called for our aid, and the duke has granted it. If it be God's will, we shall prevail.
I still have doubts of the justice of our cause. While Sweden and Denmark have claimed the same lands for centuries, that is certainly none of our affair. However, the duke made a promise to Sweden, and one must keep one's word. This situation poses quite a dilemma.
As I am unsure of the right course in this matter, I could not adequately guide the duke. Father Hansel was obviously quite shocked when I told Duke von Munster that his conscious should guide him in this matter. The best course would be to have not promised to aid the belligerent Swedes, but that is water under the bridge.
From Heinrich von Munster's (sporadically kept) journal
April 9, 1443
Preparations for battle against the Danes proceeds apace. My son appears to be taking to army life quite well.
Some may question the justice of this war. While their objections have merit, they are not rulers. Besides our understanding with Sweden, there is the fact that the Danes have been belligerents themselves, and conquered several German provinces. If we sit idly by, we ourselves will be absorbed. So we go to battle to honor our alliance with Sweden and to free the German people from their Danish yoke. May God grant us victory.
From what would have been Walram von Munster's diary if he kept one
April 1443
Finally, my father is allowing me to fight! After years of seeing him ride out without me, I get to accompany him and join the army. Now I get to experience it myself. I only hope the battles aren't all done by the time I get there.