Q
uick recap: I’m trying to ignore the urges
this game inspires in me and everybody
else, and be lovely, kind and noble at
every possible opportunity; unless I
catch anybody being in any way
immoral, then they shall feel my pious wrath. After
losing every square inch of the kingdom of England
with a speed that I almost feel I should be proud of, I
moved on to Jarl Isleifur of medieval Iceland. My jolly
nature has won me a friend named Yosi... and bandits
running rampant throughout my realm thanks to my
lack of ruthlessness. After going on a pilgrimage
hoping for a bit of deus ex machina, I am now
returned, holier than a wagon full of Swiss cheese
but in debt thanks to the costs of my travel.
The money situation is
swiftly and easily dealt
with when I reluctantly
ask the pope for some
gold. We’re on very good
terms, me and Alex, so he
totally understands and
retains a very positive
view of me. It’s not all
good news, though, as
Count Sigfus – a vassal I’ve
been trying to win round
for a few years now – still doesn’t think much of me.
Then I remember that he thought I was planning to
nick his gold when I warned him it wasn’t very well
guarded, and I messed up his library when I tried to
help him organise it. I was only trying to help! No good
deed goes unpunished, etc.
But wait! The perfect opportunity to ingratiate myself
to Sigfus arises when I loudly, if unsubtly, praise his
forgiving nature at court. It works. Huzzah! I’ll get
everybody to recognise me as the kind and pious ruler
that I am if it’s the last thing I do. And, considering the
fact that I’m now 70 years old and it’s the 11th century,
maybe it will be the last thing I do. I return home, chuffed
that I’ve added Sigfus to my list of friends. My wife
Caisséne further brightens my mood by announcing that
she is pregnant! Again! That’ll be child number three
within a few short years. The more the merrier, I say.
After all, the good book doth say go forth and multiply,
and at this rate I’ll be a multiplication pro.
Once the standard nine-month cooking time has
passed, my daughter is born. I name her after Caisséne, so
that she may serve as a living reminder to my wife not to
remarry after my death. I took a similar approach with
the naming of my other two children, and I’m really
starting to run out of ideas.
THE ICONOCLAST
I’ve barely had time to think of my first excuse to avoid
changing the nappies when I’m visited by my spies. Ah
yes; several years ago, I started a scheme to abduct Duke
Halfdan of Mercia because
he converted to
Iconoclasm, and I’m
desperate to save his soul.
The trap is ready to be
sprung! There’s a 95
percent chance of failure,
but the lord God is on my
side, so I order my agents
to bring him to me.
My plot is exposed, and
Halfdan remains a heretic.
I’m having a particularly bad day, because I then receive
word that my good friend Yosi – who I assigned to the
position of marshal – has yet again let bandits run wild
for another five years. Hmm, perhaps I should consider
giving this position to somebody qualified instead of
trying to keep my mate happy.
With impeccable timing, noted expert in marshalling,
Gausberto (he just has one name, like Madonna), visits.
I recruit him to my court, and swap him out for Yosi.
I’m sorry, Yosi! I’ll find you something else to do, my
friend. But first, I must start a murder plot against
Halfdan. This is fine to do because a) he’s a heretic,
and b) as I’m such a good Catholic in God’s good graces
now, I’ll just pray for him and save his soul that way.
THE RULES
1
Strive to be noble
and just in all
decisions.
2
Treat everybody I
come across with
civility and respect.
3
Punish any and
all un-chivalric
behaviour with
appropriate zeal.
THERE’S A 95%
CHANCE OF FAILURE,
BUT THE LORD GOD
IS ON MY SIDE
EXTRA LIFE
DIARY (^) I MOD SPOTLIGHT I REINSTALL I WHY I LOVE
This is my council... for now.