The Penthièvre Chronicles: A Crusader Kings Story

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

The Penthièvre Chronicles


A new AAR, by the completely veteran, generally awesome guy Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll has shaken the very bedrock of what was known and unknown! Politics! Intrigue! Action! Get ready for the time of your lives. Follow the de Penthièvre's and Penteurs on a journey through the ages.

I'm going to start with just a test run, to see how you all like my characters and writing styles. There will be 12 installments of this AAR at first (roughly one per in-game month), and after that, well, we'll see what happens. The installments vary from 250 words, to 1500 words, depending on what happens in that installment. There are no pictures, just words. Just story. There's no hint that it happens in the game, only my word that what I am telling to you has happened in the game. So no, this is not going to show you how to play the game. I leave that to the Let's Plays. No, this is different. This is showing why I really love this game; because every time I play Crusader Kings, I'm thinking in terms of a story. Note: I do reserve the right to change certain events for artistic licence. Other than that: enjoy!





The Times of Edouarzh I de Penthièvre




Dec 26th, 1066
It was the day after Christmas he decided to tell his sons his decision. He had chosen this day because Christmas was, traditionally, the time when his family would all converge on Penthièvre Castle. Ironically, however, the very same reason he decided to tell his sons this decision took the one son who most needed to hear it away, and another son with him.

Perhaps it really started in the days of Duke Conan II. William Duke of Normandy had supported the rebellion of Rivallon I of Dol. There was a short, uncommitted, war. During that war, Edouarzh, recently created the first Count of Penthièvre, thought he could sense the sheer potential of the Norman People, and William especially. After the war, he had the chance to meet William once, and at once encouraged his sons to swear fealty to that man. Two did: His sons Brient, and Alan Rufus. That year, 1066, he vowed to switch his inheritance to Brient as opposed to his eldest son, the bastard Tihern. Duke William, himself a bastard, was the one to mess with his plans. He had already moved on England, and taken Brient and Alan Rufus with him. He was, of course, successful, and Brient and Alan Rufus were both given positions of power, in places William knew would be like home.

Meanwhile, Duke Conan II took advantage on William’s absence in Normandy, and invaded Anjou, meaning to circle up through Maine and into Normandy. He fell dead after 2 successful sieges, prey to a poisoned riding glove. Conan’s death was a horrible strike for Edouarzh, who had been Regent of Brittany during Conan’s childhood. Conan’s sister, Havoise Raozhon, took power. She married the (at the time) Count of Kerne and Nantes, Hoel Kerne.

In a twist of subtle irony, William gave Brient the title of Count of Cornwall, the title once held by his uncle's ancestors, the new Dowager-Duke Hoel II. Alan Rufus became his older brother’s right hand man, and the second most powerful man in Cornwall.


Of course, while this made the move of inheritance to Brien make all the more sense, it meant that neither brother could be there this Christmas.


With a sigh, Edouarzh stood up, his old, tired back creaking. He glanced over the faces of all those of his sons present: Jafrez, standing as tall and straight as ever; Alan the Black, shifty, standing a bit to side; Tihern, just beginning to show signs of age, already a slight paunch; Derrien, mild-mannered as ever. He had to start somewhere. “I have an announcement to make.” He paused, as if all of those present in the hall were not already paying attention to him. “Mhm, thank you. Mhm. I’m going to make this short. I don’t have the breath I used to. Mhm. To the point: I’m sorry Tihern. I know you were expecting to inherit all of this, but you are not a legitimate son. Yes, you may point to how I admire the new King William, but he was an only son. And I’m afraid one of my other sons has shown himself much more promising. If I let Brient take Penthièvre, then our holdings more than double. This is obviously a good thing. So, from now on, Brient is to be considered my heir.” He sat back slowly, his face contorting. He reckoned himself to be almost 70, and he looked every inch that age.

Tihern just nodded stiffly at the news, but Alan the Black was, as was typical, more vocal. “You can’t do that! He may only be my half-brother, but he’s my brother! This is bull****!”

Jafrez shook his head. “Father is right. Brient has found himself more land than father owns himself. It just makes tactical sense.”

“The world isn’t a God damned battle, Jaf!!” Yelled Alan.

“Both of you. Stop, please.” Derrien was still reclining on his bench. “You’ll wake Father.”

True enough, Edouarzh had nodded off.

And thus ended 1066 in Brittany.

Jan 11 1067 (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=9075162&postcount=3)
Jan 30 1067 (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=9090395&postcount=7)
Feb 20 1067 (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=9102518&postcount=8)
April 12 1067 (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=9108209&postcount=11)
July 29 1067 (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=9125067&postcount=12)
August 22 1067 (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=9172126&postcount=14)

Oh yeah, and the first instalment is... well, not completely indicatory of the writing style used later on. Getting the background of the Penthièvre family and Brittany in general across was... tricky. Really, it's the only part of the 12 installments I'm unhappy with.

[Deme]

This seems like it could be very interesting. I've been contemplating doing something simmilar with some of the games I play.

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

This seems like it could be very interesting. I've been contemplating doing something simmilar with some of the games I play.

Thank you Deme! I've been considering doing it with other games, but I prefer the challenge of having to write for a character already partially defined for you, like here.

128 views and one comment later, over 3 forums (fora?), the tale continues, with one of the most predictable scenes ever, if you've ever played Crusader Kings.



Jan 11, 1067

They stood, all of the relatives of the Duchess Lady Havoise Raozhon Kerne, and her vassals, in mail spit-shined silver. They stood in rows and columns, all the lords and knights of Brittany. To all watching in the capital of Rennes, it was as if she was being crowned Duchess for the second time, after only months. Indeed, she was.

“To you, and all your children and descendents, shall this crown and sceptre fall...” the old man droned on and on, repeating the same words as had been spoken just months before. It was a challenge just to stay awake. Even Jafrez, who was more used to armour than his brothers was sweating like he had just emerged from a salty ocean, regardless of the January cold, from the sheer effort. It was all the same, the same boring, droning words as before. Why were they even bothering? What was the point of this ceremony? Why force them all to boil to death like lobsters on the fire? “...your knees, brave knights of Brittany!”said the priest, gradually gaining in volume. Jafrez saw Tihern, standing next to him, shake himself awake, before sinking to his knees, and gazing at the platform. “Rise, Lady Havoise Kerne, Duchess of Brittany and the Breton March!”

Tihern gasped. Jafrez turned. “Ti?” he asked.

“Nobody’s ever been Duchess of the Breton March before! What is she thinking?” Tihern gazed up at her doubly duchessed majesty.

“I don’t know, but she certainly looks more regal, well, ducal now, doesn’t she?”


Oh, and I suppose now would be a good time to say that I am using the DVIP mod. Forgot to mention that earlier.

Edit: Ok, so the Playground doesn't like Alan's nickname, *****. I could use the trick to get around it, as I usually refer to him by his nickname, to distinguish him from Edouarzh's other son Alan Rufus, but I'm just gonna call Alan the Black, Alan, and Alan Rufus (the Red), Rufus. That should minimize confusion, methinks.

[Deme]

I was wondering what the censored word was... I just figured the world really didn't like him, and the narration reflected that by calling him something nasty.

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

Yeah, I didn't notice until just now. Also: just to confuse me, wiki says Edouarzh's name is actually Eudes. Silly wiki.

[alchemyprime]

Wow, Gwyn, this is pretty cool. I like it!

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

Thank's Alch! Wait 'til ye see the last, 12th instalment...

267 views, and 3 comments, the world turns twice, and we are all that much closer to death. In that time, 300,000 people have died, and 700,000 babies have been born. So far, in the story, no characters have died, and none have been born. Who knows, maybe today will be the fateful day?

Jan 30th, 1067

Tihern rubbed his eyes, and sat up straight in his chair. It wasn’t usual for him to have visitors in the morning, but this one demanded his attention. The visitor was bloody lucky Tihern was still at his manor house. If it hadn’t been for the blizzard, he would have been in some other little village, making sure everything was proper there. But, wait a minute, where now was his steward? Did that idiot man expect the visitor to show himself in? Ah, well, it’s not like the visitor’s identity was unknown. He stood, steadied himself, and began to walk. As he passed, he absent-mindedly traced his hand along the groove in the one side of the main table in the hall. He passed through the ante-chamber, but paused just before opening the door. He shook his head, and grabbed a heavy fur that had been drying, hanging from the rafters, and wrapped himself in it. After a moment’s thought, he grabbed another fur, then opened the door.

The wind that had stopped him from leaving the manor estate the day before had died down, leaving a thick, crisp layer of snow. He tromped through the snow, glad of his having the forethought to buy that good pair of leather boots last summer. He went straight to the manor gate, and, with considerable effort, managed to open the gate against the snow. Through the gap between gates slipped his half-brother, Alan the Black.

“Alan! What a pleasure to see you here, though travelling yesterday must have been hell.”

“It was, oh it was.” Alan looked around himself. “God Bless, Ti, I haven’t been here in ages!”

“Well then, welcome back to Penteur Manor, Alan. Here, come inside, you must be freezing.” Tihern draped his extra fur around his half-brother’s neck, and lead him inside.

“To tell the truth, I didn’t come here simply to chat, Ti.” Alan said in a low and urgent voice as they passed under the threshold into the ante-chamber.

Tihern took off his fur, and hung it on the rafters again. It steamed slightly as the heat from the smoke from the braziers dried it again. “Of course you didn’t. What’s on your mind, Alan?”

Alan moved in close, under the pretext of hanging is fur up next to Tihern’s.
“I have a plan which would give you more land and power than Father can take away,” he whispered.

Tihern stiffened. “Come to my solar room. We can talk in private there.”


or not. *cue suspenseful music*

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

382 views, but sadly no more comments. I will finish posting the story, though, whether or not I get comments. In the face of great adversity, I will persevere!

Feb 20th 1067

It was a busy day at Penthièvre Castle. Not that every day wasn’t busy, but this day was especially exciting, with the hint of the exotic. It was because of the Italian.

The Italian was an old friend of Edouarzh. A wandering merchant, he took his caravan across all of Christendom, buying and selling wares and spices. Because of his friendship with Edouarzh, he always gave the Penthièvres a special price on all of his goods. Or, so he claimed. It was always hard to tell with Italians. This year, things were different.

“These prices are ridiculous!” cried old Edouarzh. “You can’t seriously expect me to pay that much for cumin! And your prices on cinnamon are just absurd! Whatever happened to our friendship, Galazzeo!”

The Italian winced. “These are your special prices, Ed. Please, spices have been more and more expensive lately. It’s all because of the war out East, you see.”

Edouarzh’s eyes narrowed. The war out east had been making each year more expensive than the last. “So you keep saying. What exactly is happening out East, Gal? Can you tell me that?”

The Italian nodded. “As you know, I buy all of my spices from the Greeks, in Constantinople. However, for the last month, the heathen Turks have been attacking the Greeks again, pushing them back. Honestly, something needs to be done. Those Turks have thousands of soldiers. Not only are they forcing the prices of spices up, but they’re killing any Christian pilgrims that pass through their land! If something isn’t done about them... Something will have to be done, you mark my words.”

Edouarzh did mark his words.

[Deme]

I couldn't think of anything to say for the last one...sorry.
I assume something will have to be done, and it will involve this messed-up bunch, yes?

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

I couldn't think of anything to say for the last one...sorry.
I assume something will have to be done, and it will involve this messed-up bunch, yes?

To be honest, I've only played a little over a year past what I've written, so I only know up to half-way pas 1069. Usually, crusades aren't called until late 70's, so until then, we still have lots of intrigue to get through. Mark my words though, if Edouarzh is still alive then, he will crusade, as, most likely, would Brient. So we should see some infidels eventually!

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

502 views, and much more comments. Of course, the one time I decide to be a whiny little annoying brat, people pay attention. Take advice from some of the comments, I have decided to add some pictures to my story, some from the internet, some from the game. Enjoy!


April 12th 1067
http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk110/Gwyn_ap_Nud/AlanNigerPenteur.jpg http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk110/Gwyn_ap_Nud/TihernPenteur.jpg
Alan 'the Black' Penteur Tihern Penteur

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea.” Tihern and Alan were walking the halls of Penthièvre Castle again.

“Ti, I’m telling you. All of Brittany could be yours! Think of your son, Brient! He could be Duke!”

“Alan, it’s not a good idea.”

“All you have to do is kill Alan Fergant. Simple as that. Kill the Duchess’ baby, and the line of succession leads straight to you, through our father.”

“And if she has other babies?”

“You kill those too.”

“I’m not going to rise to power over a pile of dead babies, Alan.”

“Think about it, Ti.”

“I said it once; I’ll say it a thousand times. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“What’s not a good idea?” Derrien came around the corner in front of them, smiling.

“None of your business, Derrien.” Said Tihern, a bit too quickly.

“We were just discussing the possibility of financing a trading trip to Constantinople ourselves,” Alan said smoothly.

“In that case, Ti’s right, that’s not a good idea. Won’t work. Anyways, I need to go see Father. I’ll see you around! God bless!”
Derrien strode down the hall the way they came.

They waited, tense.

“Do you think he-“ started Tihern.

Alan shushed him quickly. “We’ll talk more later.”


http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk110/Gwyn_ap_Nud/DerrienPenteur.jpg
Derrien Penteur


http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk110/Gwyn_ap_Nud/CastleCorridor.jpg

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

I've stopped bothering to count the views. I don't know why I bothered in the first place.

Jul 29 1067


http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk110/Gwyn_ap_Nud/EdouarzhdePenthievre.jpg
Edouarzh de Penthièvre

“Do you know why I called you here, Alan Penteur?” Edouarzh was stern as only a man of his age can be. “Do you know why you’re in such trouble?”

Alan knelt before him, stiffly. “I... can guess, lord.”

“You are jeopardizing the smooth running of my household, son.”

Alan bowed his head so that his father could not see the confused look on his face. Smooth running of the household? He had assumed that his father had learned of the Plot. Was he wrong?

“I’m going to have to find a new chambermaid now, thanks to you.”

Alan sighed in relief. It was only the chambermaid. So what if she got pregnant, she was good-looking enough. “I’m sorry, Father.”

“I am not punishing you as a father; I am punishing you as your Lord. You will be beaten. If I was younger, I would beat you myself. As is, instead of your father beating you, it will be your brother.”

“Beating me, as if I was a child? I’m 24 father, I’m not a child that you can beat at will!” Niger’s eyes blazed.

“As I said, I’m not going to beat you. Tihern is.”

Tihern stepped out from a side passage into the main hall of the Castle. Alan shot a bewildered glance at him, full of fear. <Does he know>, the glance said. Tihern shook his head. Alan furrowed his brow. A shake of the head: it could mean that he didn’t know, it could mean <I’m sorry, he knows>, it could be just <shut up>. Probably the latter.

Alan got up, and silently followed Tihern to the dungeon. He got on his knees, ready for Tihern to hit him.

“I’m not going to hit you, Alan.” Tihern shook his head, smiling slightly. “Edouarzh is overreacting. It’s a silly punishment, and I’m not going to do it.”

“He’s going to expect to see me bruised, Ti, you know that.”

“That’s why I went to the part of the dungeon with a fireplace.” Tihern walked to the unlit hearth, gave the soot a small kick. A small black cloud leapt up. “Rub it over your eye, and on one side of your mouth,” he ordered alan.

“I don’t get it.” Alan crossed his arms.

Tihern sighed. “I’m giving you a fake black eye. It’s a trick I learned from my son, Brient, though it didn’t help him.” He smiled again. “But Father doesn’t know the trick, so it should work.”

Alan nodded, and picked up a handful of soot, which he rubbed over his closed eye. “So, he doesn’t know of our plan, then?”

Tihern looked sharply at him. “Alan, there is no plan. I’m not going to do anything. It’s not going to happen.”

“You don’t have to do anything. I know a man who knows a man. It can be done without ever being traced back to me. It’s not like she doesn’t have enemies, you know.”

Tihern swung out at alan, striking him across the face. “You dare do anything, and... and... oh, you better not do anything. If I hear that anything has happened to Fergant, you will pay.” Tihern stormed up the stairs, leaving Alan to kneel in the black soot, with his black eye and bleeding lip.

http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk110/Gwyn_ap_Nud/dungeon.jpg

[Deme]

I'm glad to see some morals; in stories about intrique, usually they get shunted aside. Still, consequences are bound to exist.

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

I apologize for the lack of updates of late. I was at my grandparents, and I forgot to send myself the story to post from there. So, I'll pick up where I just left off, shall I?
Aug 22 1067
The peasants were all out sweating in the fields, wishing they weren’t, and all of the Penteurs and de Penthièvre were cowering inside of their various manor houses. There wasn’t much to do, other than sit around and try to be cool, so the arrival of Sieur William de Hauteville in Penthièvre Castle was much welcomed by Derrien and Edouarzh.

“Sir William! How fare your cousins in Italy?” Edouarzh was very fit of late, and seemed almost as if he were 10 years younger.

“Count Edouarzh.” The young Hauteville bowed before the old Count. William was of a very minor branch of the newly powerful Hauteville family. “Duke Robert is fine, as our, to my knowledge, all of the rest of my relatives.”

“Alright then, more importantly, how fare yourself?”

“Hot.” William admitted, embarrassed.

“Welcome to Brittany in the summertime, then. What news do you bring?”

“Duke Robert has begun a campaign to oust the infidel from Sicily, and bring all of Italy back to good Christian rule. Other than that, peace, boredom, and heat rule the world.”

“That is good news! You know, I’ve always liked the Normans, William. I’ve always thought that the Normans and Bretons are alike. We both are a people alike to the French, yet different. We speak not quite French, but a dialect. Even are names are not quite French! The French do not have ‘William’s, they have ‘Guillaume’s. They do not have ‘Edouarzh’s, they have ‘Edouard’s, or 'Eudes'. To my French neighbours, I myself am Eudes. We are all 3 different, yet similar.”

“That is... interesting to think about.” Replied William. “But, to be honest, in the Sicilies we think mostly of fighting, and of making money. The infidels are tough fighters, and tougher bargainers.”

Edouarzh laughed. He had never met an infidel. He doubted he ever will.


http://i278.photobucket.com/albums/kk110/Gwyn_ap_Nud/TotalWarNormanKnight_01.jpg
A Siculo-Norman Knight, in period armour.

[Deme]

Not much to say for this one; on a general critique, I'd reccomend some transitions; what's happened, emotionally, socially, globally, between chapters? Right now, they're very disjointed, and it makes it a little hard to get a good head of steam for where things are going. . This one is linked, to me, with the Febuary 20th chapter, but none of the others. they could almost happen in their own little buble universe, and if the ones between were cut out... I wouldn't know at all.
I like this story, and especially this premise... But it's still kinda rough around the edges like that.