The Reign of Trojden the Holy, Part 1: The Unproven King
And so, on the 20th of July, 938 by the Christian Calendar, do I ascend to the Polish throne. Not one, but two rebellions stand against me... products of my father's senile conversion to that southern faith, no doubt. I was never the first in line for succession, and never the favoured child... but Ignacy is dead, and Geralt the Drunkard is but a shadow of our grandfather. The electors have chosen me, the son that his father 'didn't even know what to do with'.
I have much work to do.
My marriage with Elin Emundsdottir, of the Stakes of Medelpad, secures me but a poor alliance. My father's political maneuverings left much to be desired, or so it would seem.
However, military matters must prevail. I am swift to put down the treachery of Wojslawa of Kostrzyn, and her Pomeranian allies. I call upon a great levy, a great force of eastern tribesmen to stand by my side in this conflict.
These raiders shall teach a bloody lesson to those who do not see me as a man fit to be King.
As I campaign through Pomerania, I find Elin to be a pleasurable companion. She is a strong woman, crafty and clever... I pray that Zorja may protect her through pregnancy, and that she may bear me many strong sons and beautiful daughters.
And yea, he is born, a son! Being my first, he shall share my name: Trojden Neski.
The campaign wears on, but new life continues to find its way, as Elin and I conceive a second child. A daughter, I hope.
Although a second son is also welcome. His name shall be Henryk.
The Pomeranian rebels are now nearly defeated... but the Romuva rebels remain uncontested on the field of battle. Even within my own court, they slink. They are more like us than the Jesus-worshippers to the south, but I still find their ways to be strange and foreign. That they hold to their ways even in defeat is deeply troubling and confusing to me.
At long last, after six years of warfare and thousands of men dead, Wojslawa has nowhere left to run. She is taken prisoner in Gdansk... I shall mull over my options, for the time being.
With the Pomeranian wench in my captivity, my army wheels to the north. Outnumbered, Glande the Prussian and his Romuva army flee, but after a chase of several months we meet and do battle in Scalovia. Elin gives me a lovely gift before the battle, which steels my courage for the coming conflict.
Piorun is with us on this day, and the Prussians flee across the Neman. We make catch them attempting to recover on the far bank, and rout their force. Glande is captured and banished forever from our realm.
We return home to my great hall in Gniezno, and a great feast commemorating my victory is held. The Great Chiefs of the realm join me in the springtime festival of Jaryło. The Christ-men, my own drunkard brother Geralt among them, grumble at the rite of their forefathers, and I am troubled.
Christian chiefs, Christian bishops, all of these men reign in my land. The Holy Temple of Pruszkow itself is the demesne of a Roman Catholic! The lords of my realm, some of whom followed Tomaz the Cruel's conversion to the foreign teachers, are forming alliances with outside powers!
My mind is made. I return to my prison, and find Dytryk z Kessini of Pomerania. He may have fought me in the past, but I face a greater threat now, and must move to address it. He follows the proper ways. He is ransomed. Wojslawa sees her chiefdom revoked, and Lubusz is mine.
I now march towards the High Chiefdom of Mazovia. Siemowit II is but a boy... but he is Christianizing his lands. I arrive... and pass through. My army has other matters to deal with. But his time shall come.
And what should happen, but a miracle of the will of Dadźbóg! Drogowit Lechowicz, High Chief of Lesser Poland, has declared his own war against the Mazovian child. I salute his soldiers as we pass... but my forces are traveling into the east.
Legends tell of a great temple in the lands of Rus. They are foreigners, but they pray to the same gods as we. Perhaps, if I can seize this temple, I can win the favour of the old divines and cast out these strange ideas from my lands.
On the way, I hear a herald from Elin. We have a daughter. No! Two daughters! Twins! Truly I am blessed by Jaryło! I dearly look forward to seeing my whole family, upon my return home.
After much travel, I at last find the Temple of Dubrovitzya, in Turov. Not far off, in the land of Kiev, is yet another Christian, squatting on the Temple of Yuriev. This is the place of which I had heard! I knew at once I must have it.
However, all things in due time. I return with my war-host to the north, where a Lettigallian Christian by the name of Rusins, 'the Able', reigns. I declare war, and march against Memel. I quickly drive away his army, only to have a most inopportune collision with a rabble of Rigan peasants. We are victorious, but weakened. The Norse Princeling ruling Riga can deal with the survivors as he sees fit.
In the midst of this war, my wizened Spymaster, a wizened zealot named Leszek, warned me of some Avar chieftain who fancies my throne. At first I was frightened, but I heartened in time. Let Chepa 'the Wise' come for me! Leszek departs for lands in the far south, where he shall concoct a scheme to put steel within the man's ribs before the year is out. If he survives this gauntlet, I would like to see him defeat the great army I have gathered, through my recent conquests.
More good news! My mercy on Dytryk of Pomerania was well-placed. He has declared war on the Sorbian Duke Lech, another Christ-bearer. A holy war, and an expansion of the realm, all in one! The Christians of my realm know well to tremble.
Alas, several years have passed, but I have not had the peace nor time to return home, to rest in my capital. My quest calls me! I miss Elin, who remains in Gniezno, managing my realm... I have taken to concubines, as of late, but they are never as wonderful as she. My baby son is already a lad... they are all growing up without me.
Well that won't do at all. I send a courier home, and within a month he is by my side, in the Ruthenian campaign. He is the apple of my eye, my greatest pride. I shall teach young Trojden much, ere he becomes a man. He must be a great warrior. He must hold high the Golden Boar, the banner of our house. He will learn to desire more, just as our forefathers have for generations. I swear to the Dadźbóg himself, I shall be the best father I can be, and will see him become a ruler of many lands.
There's only one major faction getting turned into a smoldering crater. 
Besides, we have Iggy's write up to anticipate as well! 
Do you have the required DLC?
