The Heir's to the Karlings: A CK2 AAR

[KingJulien22]

I started writing this AAR a while back, but after getting CK3 and messing around I decided to start a new one. Well, I never thought of ever posting them, but I tried it out with the CK3 one I just started and I thought why not post this once too0!
I start as the Count of Vermadois, the Karling's land, in 1066, but with a custom character. Sorry if it's bad, this was my first real AAR attempt. I've goyt like 100 pages in a google doc atm so I'm not sure wether Ill keep on going after I post it all (which Ill do in intervals) but Ill see if you all like it.

 

[KingJulien22]

Chapter One: An Introduction


The Count sighed again, resting his arm against his cheek. Outside, the sun shined a golden color, the last wisps of summer slowly fading away into the cold and dark. The peasants broke their backs in the field, beginning the long and arduous process of collecting the crops for the dark winter ahead. And, here, inside Castle Guise, in a warm study, filled with a blazing hearth and dusty books, a Count sighed again. He was worried.
The local Karling rulers had been the last of a great dynasty, but their extinction had been inevitable. Going from rulers of a great Empire to mere counts, all in the course of but a few hundred years. And it took another turn for the worse. The last landed Karlings had lost it all when their father had taken part in an ill fated rebellion. Louise’s father had been a local Baron in their service, but rather than betray his King, he fought against the Karlings. Together, they vanquished the rebels, and the late King Henri had given the county as a reward to the faithful house. There still were a few Karling’s in his service, the old Count’s son, and his family, but they were of little use to him. However, the King had died, 6 years ago, and Louis’s father not long after. His mother had passed from the pox when he was little. And he was left with a small, volatile county, owing fealty directly to the new boy king.
“Not for long” he chuckled to himself. “The Duchy of Picardie lies still uncreated.” And the Count of Vexin held three of the four counties required, as well as some Norman holdings. Louis could guess who his new liege would by.
Sighing again, he realized he had been distracted from the task at hand. His father’s council was gone, many of them having departed with him. He would have to find replacements, those fit for the job. And his powerful Barons and Bishops would certainly demand seats.
“Well, hopefully they’ll be good at their jobs” he chuckled to himself again. It was a very stressful business, he thought to himself. Oh well. He would he pick?
Half his court was Karling. He would need to find some other nobles, perhaps third or fourth born sons of minor barons, who never would dream of an inheritance coming their way. Eager to prove themselves, win honor and glory at another court.
So, for the chancellor. Pierre, one of his Knights, a Karling, but not of the main line, had proven himself to his father. And he was skilled in the art of the tongue, twisting and bending words to sound better for all. “The perfect fit” he thought again.
His Mayor, Robert, was altogether not the most skilled at the sword. But he was passable, and would have to do for now, until he found a better replacement.
His Bishop, Eudes, was relatively skilled at learning, and so he would do well as his Court Chaplain.
Guichard, another knight, was a local landowner, owning the rights to a small village and the nearby manor some way away. He was skilled enough in the art of managing and collecting taxes.
“Ah” he thought. “So, I’ve already run out of courtiers who aren’t Karlings Another one must be my spymaster?” Another chuckle. Very well. Eudes wasn’t necessarily the most skilled. But he would have to do.
Another sigh escaped his lips, this one of relief. He had finally gotten that done. Turning, he wondered what was next.

 

[KingJulien22]

Chapter Two: Plans and Developments

So, what do we make of this war?” questioned Marshal Robert. The other’s turned to look at Louis, querying looks on their faces. This was the first proper council meeting, with them all summoned. It would not do to seem indecisive, or weak.
“It’s a shame,” responded the Count, beginning to elegantly twist his words around, what he did best. “The King is but a boy, and Zeeland but a few small islands with a fishing village or two. No. Not worth the trouble. The Emperor smells weakness. He is new, and seeks to humiliate us French. He thinks it will shore up his own support, and rightly so. They can muster double the levies.”
“We will send our liege levy, but I think it would be best for the King to quickly make a back door peace deal. This war is unwinnable and pointless. Get out of it before the Emperor gets his chance to make a show, make France the laughingstock of Europe.”
“In the meantime, we will bide our time. The King will likely promote the counts of Vexin to Picardie. We will need allies. And Gold. Pierre, search for a potential bride. One with a powerful father or brother, and make sure she’s young. And pretty.” he added with a smirk.
“Guichard, go raise a special tithe. Robert, Eudes and other Eudes, dear me, this will be some trouble. Train the men, discover the plots, and go and pray. We will come through this war stronger then we entered.”
“Yes, m’lord” replied Guichard as the men left the room.

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“This was an interesting development” Louis mused to himself as he set the letter down. News had arrived from his Chancellor in Paris. The bastard was dead. His young son in his place. Their ambitions for power, gone. Just like that. There was almost a humor to it. Thousands of men, Harold’s armies, shattered, London and all Bedford and Kent seized. A grim humor, for sure. And quite the relief for the Saxons.
“Bruno” he called, his squire scurrying over. A German Count’s brother, third or fourth born, Louis had grown rather fond of him. They were close in age after all. Louis turned back and picked up a letter he had just finished penning.
“Send this letter back to my Chancellor. This news is rather… interesting.”

Count Louise sighed in the beating heat, ripping the sweat from his brow. King Phillipe had called upon a new round of levies. It was still early spring, March in fact, but the heavy chainmail wore him down. He was accompanied by around a hundred men. The King appeared to be in trouble.
“Sir!” Another messenger rode down the line. “I bring a message from his majesty's Lord Marshal, the Duke of Toulouse. All troops are to move south and rally in Dauphine. Paris is besieged!”
This news was bad. Quite bad. The King, with his newly betrothed Danish Princess, and his siblings and heirs, locked up in the Castle. His regent and steward were stuck there as well, Francois, a minor noble, and Mayor Reynaud of Sully, respectively.
“So we abandoned the King?” puzzled the Count.
“Sir, if you wish to charge an army seven
strong with this levy, please, be my guest. The Duke simply wishes to regroup the men to march North to fight again.”
“Very well. Sir Thomas” he beckoned to one of his Knights. “Lead our levy south. I must return to Vermandois.”

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“For the crime of stealing from your neighbors, taking off with the chickens, butchering the cows, slaughtering the pigs, and ruining this poor man’s livelihood, I must sentence you to death.”
Some seemed angry at such a harsh punishment, but Louis knew it must be done. Without it, people would continue to cause trouble. Just looking at this poor peasant, he saw his livelihood ruined. The relative prosperity he had built up for his family, gone like that. He pitied him, but this must not happen again.
“Sir!” he heard a commotion from the doorway. Courtiers were turning and starting. In rushed Eudes, his court chaplain, with some men-at-arms dragging a local noblemen. He was a minor courtier, another third son of a fourth son of a Baron off in Anjou. He had come to his court, demanding a seat on Louise’s council, and was quite offended when he turned him down.
“I believe this man is a heretic, practising false teachings. He preaches of false gods, the end of god, of the corruption of the church. The devil has truly poisoned him.”
“Heresy, you say? That cannot go unpunished. Eudes, do you have anything to say in your defence?”
“God will reward me for my true faith in heaven” he replied haughtily. “I will not embrace this false belief!”
“You know what the punishment is.”
“Yes, and I embrace death! Welcome it! God will reap lavishly on his believers!”
“Good god, who is this man,” thought Louis. “He has gone mad.”
“Very well.” replied the Count. “You will burn.” Regrettable, but he could not allow heresy to fester.

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Another letter had arrived, this time from his Marshal, Robert, who had been sent by the army. The Count was hesitant to open it. He knew bad news must be inside. Carefully, he pulled out a candle, under the glare of the wax, beneath squinting eyes, late at night, he could just glimpse what the letter contained. His dread grew with each word he flicked across.

Dear Count Louise,

This morning, under the command of Duke Guilhelm of Toulouse, we engaged the enemy forces, in North flanders, near Zeeland. They outnumbered us, but the King’s recent debt had forced him to suspend payment to many of our troops, disheartening them. We fought for a while, the battle swinging back and forth. However, a second army twice our size arrived late in the day, commanded by the Kaiser himself. They smashed our men from the flanks and rear, many of whom scattered. I have not found Sir Thomas yet, or Sir John, or many others, for that matter. I fear the war is lost.

Your Marshal,
Mayor Robert.

“Very well.” said Count Louise, to no one in particular. He looked out the castle windows, away from his warm hearth, to the chilly night outside. The moon was shining particularly full. “The war is lost. This time, it has no consequences. A single county. The next one may not be so lenient. King Phillipe needs to grow up, and fast.”

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“Ah, Chancellor Pierre” the Count beckoned for the chancellor to step forward. “What of my marriage options have you found?”
“The Duke of Normandy is a powerful man, m’lord. Nearly ten thousand men under his command following the premature end of his war for England. More powerful than the King himself, especially at times like these.”
“His neighbors are lucky both are still but boys.”
“Yes, but he has not been very receptive to a betrothal between himself and any of his sisters.”
“Ten thousand men is ten thousand men. Can any of the other Dukes match that number?”
“No sir. The lower Dukes and Counts, from the heartland, Anjou, Blois, Berry, Sens, Orleans, they cannot near a thousand. Aquitaine, Champagne, Toulouse, Burgundy, Flanders, the powerful ones closer to the edges, two or three. The Duke of Burgundy’s youngest daughter is but 15, it would provide a powerful alliance. And I hear the Duke of Normandy has broken his betrothal with the Count of Melguil’s daughter. Certainly a loss for him. I heard him bragging at court, recently, that he would be the grandfather of the most powerful Duke’s in the realm!”
“But not one near Normandy’s strength, I take it. His eldest sister, Cecilia, try and get her hand in marriage. We will discuss our second choices later, if that doesn’t pan out.”
“Yes, my liege.”

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Count Raol’s ambitions were quite bare, and well known by this point. He wished to be Duke of Picardie, he had the land, the men, the wealth, 3/4 of the counties and then another one in Normandy on top of that, and he was now fuming over the fact that he had to pay homage to a man of already great strength, Duke Guilhelm. Guilhelm owned the land to five duchies, six with the newest appointment. It had seemed odd to Louis that the King had decided to do that. Make one of the most powerful men in France, the most powerful by simple land totals, even more powerful? Maybe he wished to appease him. Louise didn’t know.
Phillipe was turning 16 in a few days, and he had invited all the powerful noblemen of the realm to the wedding ceremony. Louise had looked in awe at the mighty Danish king, with his many children. They had an entire table to themselves!
“Mad, isn’t he?” whispered Count Raoul from his right. News had spread round that the King had recently created the Duchy, and Louis, and the entire court, were expecting the Count’s dream of becoming a Duke to finally become true. Instead, he was humiliated by being forced to bow and swear the vows of vassalage to a man he had instead soon expected to be his equal, an Occitan lord from the south who was certain never to venture up north.
Louis just shrugged in response. This would make his dream, of himself too, becoming Duke of Picardie, easier in the long run, if a bit more confusing. He would be able to consolidate land from his neighbor before striking out in Rebellion, rather than being forced into a war he would likely lose from the beginning. It also meant the alliance with Robert was irrelevant, in a minor clash under the Duke Guilhem, a vassal a step up wouldn’t be able to aid him. He would need to speak to his chancellor about that.
His eyes then turned to the lady of the hour, the now Queen Gunhild. Her father and the King had just signed the alliance earlier today, right after the wedding, and now she seemed to be enjoying herself at the feast, her wide eyes beaming at the, rather fussy looking Phillipe. He seemed to not care to be here, just waiting to escape. Gunhild and her father were of a weird, fair yet dark complexion. He could see their furs, and other signs, marking them as citizens of the far north.
Turning back to his left, he only saw the Count of Aurrelic, another ambitious, powerful vassal of Guilhem, also furious that, whereas he owned nearly two thirds of the land of the Duchy of Auvergne, it would also go to Guilhem rather than himself. Sighing, the Count decided to turn his attention back to his food. At least he wouldn’t have to think too hard about that.

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“Sir! I may have found you a wife!” his new chancellor, Niallin, a Breton, had shouted. He was as excited as a puppy, the Count had found. He had replaced Pierre, who had been waffling on this matter for far too long.
“Please, sit down. Tell me more.”
“I have traveled over east, to French-Comte, in the Empire. Duke Guillame has a 6 year old daughter, sir. He can muster around 2000 men. Sadly, it wasn’t as good as some of the options you had a year ago, but Pierre’s waffling mean’s many of them have been swooped up and married, so it was the best I could do, I’m afraid. He had another daughter, much closer in age but she was taken.”
“Do not worry.” replied the Count. “You do well. 2000 levies may not be as many as Bormandy, but it hopefully will be enough to beat the Count Raoul. And if gaining Picardy means waiting a dozen years to have children, so be it. I can always break the betrothal once the war is done. In the meantime, I must task you with, er, ‘finding’, some of my claims on his lands. I look to expand.
“Of course, m’lord. It will be done.”

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“I have 200 levies, for you, Duke Guilhem” the Count announced to his liege. They had marched down to Aquitaine, where they would meet up and form under his liege, to continue the march to Armagnac, where they would enter Iberia. The young king wished to prove himself, it appeared, and believed a victorious holy war was the way. He marched on Iberia.
“Thank you, my faithful Count” replied the Duke, looking down at him. “It is good to see the use of Picardie. That foolish Count Raoul, he makes such a fuss on my council. Constantly complaining about the ill-good that us Occitans do, wielding our power like tyrants over the good French people of Picardie. I am glad to see they are all so… unreasonable.”
“I wise observation, m’lord. If you ever have to deal with his foolish, troubles, I am certain I would be an apt steward to represent us Picardians.” the Count stood up, preparing to exit the throne room.
“A kind offer, Count Louis. I will be certain to consider it.”

 

[KingJulien22]

I do apologize for the style of writing. I would play the game and pause whenever something important happened and wrote about that, so every scene is staticy-and forced. I need to come up with new and creative things for him to do, and I wrote this a week or two back.

 

[HistoryDude]

The Norman Conquest failed? Interesting.

Why do I expect a Karling rebellion soon enough?

 

[Midnite Duke]

You were overrun with Eudes. Be safe my count soon to be duke.

 

[guillec87]

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