The House of Nesser-A CK2 Succession Game!

yay Kaiser Electric just got me Way of Life for my birthday, so I have all the needed DLC :3
 
The Reign of Trojden the Holy, Part 4: The Monster

A bit of me has died inside. The keystone which once held the arch of my spirit. It is crumbling now. All the illusions of me being a kind man. A good person.

Perhaps now, so close to the end of my life, I understand my father's decision to let the Catholic Priest into his life. He had lost a son, and was old and wavering: he needed a story that gave him hope for an easy, restful afterlife, a place where meek and mild men live for an eternity of comfort.

He was a good man. Perhaps he would be accepted into Christ's heaven. But I cannot. I could not before, and I could not now. I can be no more damned than I already am.

Now all I can do is give up everything to secure my son in his position.

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My dog Veles is dead. That beast did not know my crimes, but now even he is gone. I am grief-stricken, and give him a proper funeral. It feels like it's even better than the one my son got. I am nauseated.

But the nausea passes. My purpose once again is clear.

I can be no more damned.

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Siemowit of Plock. The man who has been the axis around which so much of the misfortune in my life has rotated. I have him arrested without cause, but he escapes. It was already widely thought that I was not a kind man. Now it is also common knowledge that I am not a just man either.

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Then, one of my younger concubines gives birth to a son, Karol. I cannot go through what I did to Odon again. Not again.

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Then Geralt the Drunkard again. I had revoked his titles and allowed him to go free some time ago, but his hatred for me has not wavered in the slightest.

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A thousand men muster in Gniezno, where Geralt's forces already stand. They are slaughtered to the last man. I know that I should feel grief and fury... but I am at this point utterly inured to such emotions. Only the knowledge that my family lies besieged in the capital pushes me onwards into the battle.

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Once again, we go through the motions. I defeat the armies of my brother, and am on the brink of victory once again.

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There will be no victorious execution. The scythe of natural death spares me from killing yet another blood relative.

Siemowit of Plock, meanwhile, is captured at last. My own human White Stag.

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Another illness fails to kill me.

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It's well understood that all specimens of the House Neski have spectacularly strong constitutions. Right dear? Dear?

...

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...

Why.

I am in a stupor. Why could we have not died together? Later? When my work is done? None can rouse me from grief and contemplation until word reaches me of yet another adventurer.

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It is all old to me now. It's all a sick game. He'll die. Doesn't he know? Just turn away, for death befalls all those who approach me. Like this Orthodox rebel, for instance.

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Dead. It has stopped having any meaning to me. Besides, why both trying to take the crown of a King?

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For I am now an Emperor of Men. I am Trojden the Holy, son of Tomaz the Cruel, son of Geralt, King of Poland, Lithuania, Kiev and Pomerania.

I wish I were dead. Yet I still have work to do. The faith remains disunited. I expect my end to come each day... but still I linger. Perhaps this is some sort of cruel divine punishment for my crimes.

I have given almost all of my lands and titles to my son. The electors would be fools to not choose him to be my heir, for anyone else would find themselves instantly overwhelmed by his vast holdings. I remain at the frontiers, still campaigning, after all of these years. Novgorod in Garðariki, and Birlad in Bulgaria are both so close.

In one of my visits to Gniezno, I steel myself. After a long hesitation, I descend into the prison. The wrecks of people are here. Men and women who once had lives. I walk steadily to one cell. Within it is Siemowit. He is sitting placidly on his plank. He has noticed my presence, and speaks a prayer. Perhaps it is to spite me. Or perhaps it is in spite of me.

I nod to my executioner.

I can be no more damned. Siemowit dies a martyr.

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But still, I have two tasks to complete! The electors, spiteful idiots as they are, continue to support my nephew's deformed, hunchbacked chatterbox of a son, Miloz.

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I make several attempts to arrest him- a dead man cannot be king. They all fail, but the electors switch their votes to my firstborn instead. I am already hated by all but my son. Their loathing can grow no more intense. They are simply waiting for their monstrous, geriatric beast of a king to die.

So am I.

But still I linger.

My youngest daughter, Wojslawa presents me her bastard son. I am touched beyond words that she has not joined the rest of the Empire in shunning me. I promise that she will be cared for. A small act of good. I know it's not enough to balance out a lifetime of evil.

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At long last, after four twenties and more years on the earth, I feel my time is come. My son shall be Emperor. He has a beautiful wife, and is secure in his rule. I have done little to build upon my father's hall in Gniezno. Maybe he will continue, and build our villages into the great cities.

But that's... immaterial. Trojden.

Trojden...

...my son...

...finish...

...my work...

...re...form...

...our faith...

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<3 I cried <3
 
There is no God but Allah. So says Emperor Trojan II, the Accursed. I'll work on a proper write-up, but here's the save. I only lived ten years, but I had a LOT of fun!
 

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FFS. Did you reform Slavic first?

I looked at it, and determined that I probably wouldn't be able to get the Moral Authority to do it. Besides you're not the boss of me, DAD.
 
Seriously though, Novgorod and Birlad are right on our borders. Capture them and it is an instant 45% moral authority. Then you just need a few county conquests, burn some temples, and you are at 50.
 
I thought it was 60 for reforming the faith?

Anyways it's too late now. I killed the old gods. Don't worry, I'm still a fan of holding back those damn Christians! Just you like wanted daddy!

Anyhoo, working on getting my writeup done now.
 
It's ok Iggy, not all is lost ;)
 
My son, I have passed from this world and have returned only to grant you my final boon: the Wabbajack. If it turns out the Wabbajack is not actually a real thing, allow me instead to impart my wisdom and history. Some may call me mad or insane, but that's certainly not the case. I was a kind, though ambitious ruler, looking to carve out his niche through history by the search for knowledge. I sought to rule with enlightenment and high ideals, as learning is more powerful than any army. I was determined to not be my father, a cruel infidel tyrant, who murdered his own kin. That is why I killed his god and embraced a new one.

My father had left me with wars all over our lands, and angry armies descending upon us to bring about vengeance for his warmongering. In the south, three thousand Bulgarians marched upon Kiev, while in the north, eight thousand Russians led by the Norse lords were determined to fight us over Luki. I was forced to use my prestige and renown, as well as some of our money to gather together a great army. The Bulgarians were defeated in short order, but we faced a difficult fight against the Russian scum. All of our enemies were defeated and destroyed within the first year of my reign, and the territories that my father sought to conquer were added to the Empire. War was not what I wanted for myself or for you.

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Upon taking the throne I endeavored to bring about a new age of enlightenment and advancement, and that's why I pushed for greater unity among the Polish people. With support of allied noble lords, many of whom I had bought off with my father's superfluous titles and money, I was able to begin the painful process of reform.

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My pride and joy during my reign came from my observatory. Almost immediately after taking power I had financed the construction of this wonder in Kiev, despite many referring to it as a folly. It was through the knowledge I gained in the observatory I began to see the true shape of the world.

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While the observatory was under construction I fondly remember that your mother and I at last conceived and produced you, an heir to the throne of the Empire. When you were born the very forests of the Wendish Empire whispered the name "Trojden."

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My own projects were interrupted as peasants began rebelling throughout the empire, another legacy of my tyrannical father. My armies were sent out to crush these upstarts, in order to preserve the loyalty of my nobles.

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Your half-sister was born shortly after this rebellion, but I've never liked her very much.

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Eventually my studies in my observatories and laboratories took me down a dark path which led me to the depths of the sands of Arabia. It was through this adventure that I truly began to grasp the workings of faith and the dark secrets that our world contains.

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They say when you look into an abyss, the abyss looks back at you, and the knowledge will drive you mad. I never went mad. I simply saw a new world with many new possibilities and dangers. I vowed to protect the secrets of the world from the innocent and unenlightened. You must never fear the darkness, make the darkness fear you.

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It was in this time that I began to notice my nobles acting more strangely around me. They would talk cautiously and always seem as though they were anxious to leave my presence. Of course, I would have none of this. I was a kind man and always sought to hear their concerns and ideas. In time they began to support my point of view and we managed to bring all of the Polish people closer together.

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Despite my successes, I began to have restless sleeps, as the gods thought they could torment me and drive me to submit before them. I fought the gods relentlessly to prevent them from continuing to punish our world and throw it into chaos and depravity. My struggles ultimately culminated into one great battle.

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I had killed the gods of the old world, and I began to realize that there was no longer a god of any kind to watch the people of Poland. With our gods dead by my hand, I began to seek out a new god to lead and guide us. Your brother was born at some time around then. You should probably avoid killing him, he seems nice.

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I had grown tired of one of my concubines at this time, and she apparently had grown tired of occasionally being forced to run around naked and be shot at with arrows. Women are highly fickle and unpredictable, always remember that. I was searching for a new concubine and I found one in the court of Sarkel that the local lord was willing to part with. Irandokht was a brilliant woman and I spent many hours with her, as she told me of the strength of her god, Allah. Her god had led the conquest of many pitifully weak Christians over the past few hundred years and he seems to have the strength to defend the Polish people. I determined that I must follow this faith in order to give the Wendish Empire protection from a god. I converted and soon began to follow the enlightened tenants of their faith.

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Many nobles followed me, particularly the ones I released from prison. A few diehards were too dimwitted to realize that their gods were dead, and continue to maintain their lands to this day. You must show the error of their ways. Before you do, in order to preserve the loyalty of the god, you must make a pilgrimage to the great city of Mecca. I too made this pilgrimage before I died, to assure myself of an eternity in paradise.

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After returning, my old injury became less bearable and my health began to decline further. A band of Catholics rebelled in the north, and the preparations for the march only exacerbated the illness.

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I died shortly after from this wound and have returned only to tell you that you must take up the mantle and preserve the light of knowledge in this world. The Christians cannot be trusted, and the old gods are dead. Do not forsake the new god or feel his wrath.

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Cool! I was initially a little miffed about your conversion, but you gave really fun reasons for it with the Elder Gods plot chain. The Wendish Empire shall reign supreme, Insha'Allah!
 
Jesus ing christ, everyone hates me and I'm eight years old. Thanks.
 
Jesus ing christ, everyone hates me and I'm eight years old. Thanks.

QQ more :p . Lord Iggy gave me three wars, including with Holmgardr, who sent way too many Russians against me. I don't even know where most of the soldiers he had came from in the first place cause he hadn't raised any levies or anything. Good luck!
 
Pay attention, because we're only going to go over this once.

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I inherited the throne of the Wendish Empire at the age of eight. This is important, as you might guess, because I wasn't exactly in charge for the first few years. Apparently small children are not to be trusted with empires.

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Instead, I have a regent. She's not a very good one: there's a new regent in a few years.

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The nobility is generally divided into two camps. Those who dislike my father, and those who really hate my father. And me, since with him dead I was the main target for their affections. I don't really remember him, but I hear he had some strange ideas. The least of which was the worship of the Arab God.

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Unfortunately, many of his writings and advice was lost by the time I learned how to read. How sad.

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A lot of people weren't too fond of the Arab God, and there were always troops going out to kill them. This would happen a lot, so we'll skip all the individual instances in the name of brevity.

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The nobles who really hated my father got together and sent troops to kill us. This is a bad thing. It also happened a lot.

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I met lots of interesting people during this time.

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They were exciting, I wanted to be just like them.

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And so I did.

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However, slaughtering peasants doesn't take a lot of courage. But I was too young to know this.

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We were always at war. This happened a lot.

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The problem with being always at war is that eventually you lose. And since we had no allies to call upon, things went downhill from here.

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Very downhill.

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And then the Swedes invaded.

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I heard about this from talking to all the interesting people that came through Kiev.

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We lost some more battles.

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So it was a big deal when we won one.

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There was a big party. I organized it, and everyone liked it. All the interesting soldiers loved me.

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They went and won some more battles.

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The issue is that we had few friends. The muslim nobles, who were running the empire now, said this was a test by Allah, and that all our enemies were sent by him. It would be pretty fantastic if he sent us some friends.

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When I took power, things were kind of steady. The nobles were hopeful I would reclaim our lost territory and prestige in the name of Allah.

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With my silver tongue, surely the Wendish realm would know a degree of peace so that we could recover, insha'allah.

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Yeah, about that...
 
Daddy Issues, the Succession Game, continues!
 
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