The House of Nesser-A CK2 Succession Game!

I would prefer pagan, with either a reformation, or adopting whoever sends missionaries, eventually.

My DLC all got deleted, and I'm not really into Northern Euros or Sunset Invasion, so I'm going to withdraw myself for consideration for this right now. I really support the mission though.

Also I'm totally backlogged with work on my own NES.

Will anything go wrong if someone doesn't have all the Unit packs and portraits for example? I think they just need the core DLC, yes?

Also, it seems that the biggest consensus seems to be Pagan? If so, we can do Eastern Europe if that works? I'm actually amicable to Poland

I talked with all involved parties, and it seems a Poland game will be where House of Nesser is going to start its path to glory! I'm hoping for a start this weekend!

I am not Charlemagne capable.

I'm in!

Ok, so it seems we have a rough idea: Poland, 867(?) Start, as a Pagan. Should we take over the traditional Piast start? For character development, any particular traits we want to start off with? I know wounded is a pretty easy one that leads to scarred and doesn't usually kill you, but other thoughts? Quick? Charitable? Strong?

Well really, thanks to the console, you could always pick incapable/maimed and remove them by console once in the game. If we want to avoid that in the ruler designer, yeah I'd say go for Quick and use Wounded and Cruel to help mitigate. Lustful is a good one too.

Agreed with EQ, I'd be OK with those.

Alright, and is there any preference for starting name/gender/appearance/coat of arms? Once we get that, I think we can start!

Who's first? I'd be happy to go first, but it's not necessary.

I'd be willing to start off House Nesski.

Geralt of Nesser

My name is Geralt the Nesser. I was a sworn shield to the High Chief of Greater Poland. I wanted a Wolf for my shield, but they gave me a boar. I gave him a sword. I am now the Duke of Greater Poland.


To be a Chief, you must have a woman. I found a sturdy Polish peasant girl, with good birthing hips and knows to fear her husband. She will make a fine wife.



We have a son together, and my wife suggested the name Tomaz, no doubt some peasant name. The boy is strong and dull like a peasant so I agree. I will have a second son I am sure that will be far more worthy of the Chiefdom.



Now that I have recovered from my wounds though, I leave the child to my wife so I might fulfill my great ambitions. King of Poland I shall be, and Upper Silesia, finally free of the Christian Moravians, is the first target of my wrath.



I then use my title as High Chief of Upper Silesia to further expand my domain. None can stand against the legendary genius Geralt Nesser.



Krakow then is the next target for my warriors. Word from my wife reaches me that she is Pregnant. I slaughter many to ensure that I am given a son. Clearly, I did not slaughter enough, but at the least, Krakow now bends their knee to me.



The gods seem to have cursed my seed, and have given me three daughters and Tomaz. Very well Tomaz. You shall be my heir, for now.



While I might admire a good liar, I cannot pass on a chance to beat Tomaz.



That being said, if Tomaz is to survive in this world, he will not be able to rely on his own wit. Definitely not his wit. Best if I simply conquer any threat for him.



I wonder where he got it from…



Mazovia then bends the knee next.



While I may curse the Gods, Tomaz seems fascinated by them. I intend to beat him once more, but my priest noted it might make him a more worthy warrior. Very well then.



Finally my last war. Greater Poland versus Lesser Poland. It seems obvious who would be triumphant.



At the very least, Tomaz is no milkmaid. Perhaps he might survive to inherit my place.



Soon, I shall have a crown, but I need gold. In the meantime, the coast lays naked to my armies.



A Holy War was launched by the men of the book into the lands of Moravia. A perfect opportunity to weaken the Christians and their Bulgarian Allies.



While I might agree with his philosophy, he is not a man yet. And so I beat him to toughen him. It works.



We eventually crush the Christians. Seems there God is not so great now is it?



At long last, Tomaz is a man grown, and it seems my beatings have done something for him. A great warrior at the very least, he will rule with a cruel and iron fist.



A good thing too, for one day, he will soon be inheriting my lands, and not as a Chief. He shall be a King.



ACK!



Poland, and Europe, at the death of King Geralt I

Alright, so the rough order is currently

1. Thomas
2. EQ
3. Iggy
4. Shadow

If you can do it in a week, or in a day, then great! Also, feel free to switch around! I wrote this up in class, but will be uploading the save when I get back home.

Feel free to do your write ups how you wish, for Geralt this was simply just unifying our beautiful Kingdom :>

Could you link the save? And if I could do a quick generation right now, could I jump the line?

I jumped in between Thomas and EQ, and played as Emperor Trojden I. I'll write my full report once thomas has done his. Just know that my successor is Trojden II, who is 39 (I lived to 82... which kept me up until 8 in the morning), and that his dying wish to his son is to unite and reform the Old Faith.

Linked Savefile.

So that makes the order now

Nuke
Lord Iggy
Thomas
EQandCivfanatic
Shadowbound

The Rule of King Tomaz
(part 1)

My Father was a cruel man. Few loved him, and even fewer miss him. But there is no denying the legacy, and the expectations, he has left behind. In a single generation, all the lands of Poles were united under his banner... And I’m expected to keep them so. He always told me I'd die young, in a warcamp, leading a raid against the enemy of our people.

My father, always quick with his words, loved to draw attention to the fact that I was not as learned as he, nor as quick with words. I’ve always felt more comfortable on horseback, axe in hand and cold wind biting at my cheeks than in cold drafty halls, but if my father taught me one thing, it’s that a kingdom, for that is what I rule, cannot be ruled from the raider’s camp alone. I will be remembered, and not just for war.





I first held court from the muddy fields of Sambia - Though he had no faith in me for anything else, he trusted me with our wars, with our men. Certainly, none of my peers could say the same.



My father left a house in disorder, and sworn men champing at their bit. My father had declared himself both King and high-chief of all the lands of Poland, but I knew that if I didn't give some of my father's "friends" the illusion of power, they wouldn't follow me. And so, I split Poland into a number of High-chiefdoms and assigned them to my Father's, to my, most worthy followers. Mercy is also loved, and so I freed one of the chiefs of Poland, a man my father had imprisoned for some perceived insult or another.



This muddy field was also the site of my first victory as King. The Sambians fell to my sword, and their chief knelt before me, swearing eternal loyalty to me and my kind. I was a bit disgusted, to be honest. What kind of man surrenders? I was young, foolish, and I did not truly understand, yet, what this man knew of ruling.

Drunk on my victories, I turned my eyes northwards, to the stone halls and great cities of the Pommeranians, swearing to bring them under my rule.



The war was a short one: the Pommeranians lived up to the "Unready" nickname of their king.

During the course of the war, I received word that the woman I was betrothed to, some Norse woman from the north, the daughter of a man my father once met on some raid or another, had come of age, and was traveling to meet me for our wedding. I could not offer her a luxurious wedding, held as it was in the conquered halls of the Pommeranians instead of my ancestral home.



I fully admit, that, though now I love her, at first my wife reminded me all to much of my father. Ingjerdr had the same cruel wit as he did, and every word out of her mouth feels too much like a vicious joke. Over time, though, those insults grew directed less at me and, eventually, as our love grew over the many many years, she would include me in her witty attacks against my poor court. I remember, in particular, her good advice. A peasant was brought to me accused to having murdered his wife and children. My wife knew that it was best to execute him as the animal he was. Though the peasantry decried my rule as cruel, further evidence was brought forth indicating how this man had drunkenly premeditated the murder.







By early 892, in the counting of the Christians, the last Pomeranian stronghold was mine, and their king capitulated, swearing his lands to me and my children.



It was not long after, fueled as it was by our mutual joy at the massacre of the enemies of my, and now our, people, that my wife announced she was pregnant. I was going to have a son.



I took into our bed a Pomeranian concubine, and my wife and I shared the woman, weak as she was.



In August of 894, I was approached by a delegation from one of the northern cities, asking for Royal decree allowing them to establish a grand trading city, with royal protection. They argued their case well, and I acquiesced, knowing how easily coffers empty. I confess I had heard of the great southern cities of Venice and Genoa and Amalfi, and thought that perhaps we, here, in the north could emulate them.



My first child is a Daughter. No matter, I am still young, with an even younger wife, and I will have more children. I WILL have a son, and I will be a better father than my father was.













We have gone for too long without any hardship. The Men and Women of my court have grown soft and indolent. I will whip them back into shape, if it kills me! A training ground will allow the men to grow strong, and in turn keep their women silent.





In 898, the first in a long line of Christian Missionaries, walked through the doors of my court. He bowed, humbly, but looked about the room as if he were above it, and us. As if he were better. His attitude was no better: He demanded to be allowed to bring the word of his God to my people. I threw him in the dungeon. Perhaps, if he had shown humility, I would have allowed him to speak. I thought thier God-king taught his followers to be humble?

The Rule of King Tomaz
(part 2)


Perhaps my concubine will give me a son? She has suffered terribly at the hands of my wife and I, but she still has a use, and we have come to care for her.





Doubly so, as she has now given me a son. The first boy born in my family since, well... me!

The Brat doesn't seem particularly special. I name him Ignacy, a name that came to me in a dream, and I will whip him into shape. My wife was angered that my firstborn was not of her, and she took this anger out on the court. It was an understandeable anger. She redoubled her efforts to have a son, and for a while Miraslava was absent from our bed.





Adleta, our eldest, has become old enough to be a regular part of the court. She is a hardworking child, promising, though not as much her Sister





My wife has a son, who she wants to name after my father. I loathed the man, but I love my wife, and so I accept. Little Geralt he is, then.



To celebrate the growing power of my people, I decide to have built a great meeting hall in the middle of my capital. This will be a place where the peasants can come air their petty grievances and where my followers and I can feast.



Ignacy seems to have had some use, now. He broke the curse on my line. I now have more sons than I know what to do with.



I take Ignacy under my wing. Though the brat seems all around Mediocre, better I whip him into shape than any of these weaklings who follow me. He is not blessed with my great physique, but he is a normal boy, and with work, he will be a strong war leader, and an even stronger king.



It was Ignacy, in fact, the one who turned me onto my life's work! He asked about the stars, and while I was about to cuff him and give him an answer, I realized I didn't know the answer. So, after the cuff, I decreed that an observatory should be built, from which I could watch the heavens. Ingjerdr just rolled her eyes and laughed, gently "Whatever makes you happy, love."



I'll admit that I haven't taken the time to Teach Ignacy, so consumed am I by the heavens, but the brat is coming along well. He knows his place in the world.











By the time he comes of age, I know Ignacy will not be a great king, but he will be a good one.

My wife and I have mellowed with age, and come to truly love each other.



Certainly, by the age of 50, the world looks very different than it did at the age of 16. The weight of my decisions sits on my shoulders. I have lost children and friends, and I do not really know what makes me so different from them that I survived and they did not. Were I still young, I'd assume it simply meant I was better than them, but, with wisdom, I know that that cannot be the answer. A grandchild changes one's perspective.







No man should outlive his son. And yet, that is what happened today. Ignacy is dead, felled by some deadly curse. My son Geralt, a much kinder man than his namesake, has been a great boon. I am old. 65 years old, and he has taken on many of the day to day duties of the Kingdom, in anticipation of the day when I will die.



I have taken to wandering the dungeons, now mostly empty, like I did when I was younger, seeking some pain, some torment I could dole out. And In one of the cells, I found a Christian preacher. I vaguely remembered him wandering into our halls on the very night I received the news of my son's death and threw him into the dungeons out of habit. This time, though, I decided to speak to the man. And he offered me hope, hope that I had never had. Hope for my children, and, while I know that I have lived a life too full of cruelty to deserve any reward, this priest promises peace for my children and their children. I speak to this priest often, learning what I can of his wisdom.



When I die, I will have died a good king.

I will have died a better king than my father.






OOC: the change in succession from Geralt to Trojden happened seconds before I died. Iggy, your writeup could probably have fun with this.
Note: I passed the save along to iggy last night, and I'd imagine he's done with it by now.

@EQ, currently the order is:

1. Nuka
2. Thomas
3. Iggy
4. EQ
5. Shadow

So EQ, the ball is in your court once you've posted the update