Italy at the start of the game - the black line bordering Trent, Verona and Padua was the edge of our duchy, which contained everything to the left except Venice Much like in real history, it’s possible to get away with anything, so long as your feudal betters don’t notice, or are paid not to.Īs summer arrives, so does dear Duke Cobbo, coming over the mountains from the German lands with a proposal of marriage! I accept, of course, as it may come to aid me later. The Duke is constantly away in council with the king, and I offer both generals tax relief in exchange for covering for me - when the Duke comes over for his due, we just insist it has been spent on “infrastructure”. While the churchmen are in Rome, I absolutely rinse them for ducats, pocketing the golden counters in the folds of my spectral mantle. Immediately, I begin embezzling, guzzling up everyone’s money as winter comes, and giving them a comical fraction back. Alas, my stats are appalling, although my stewardship is decent enough, and I am appointed master of coin, charged with collecting the Duke’s taxes in winter and making infrastructure investments. Our churchmen will go to Rome to try and influence the vatican, our generals will prepare for an early grab on the riches of Venice, and our spymaster shall do… other things. Ghoastus: Ah, they have given me the province of Padua, in my beloved Italy! If my Duke is perturbed by the fact that one of his vassals is a ghost, he doesn’t show it - he huddles us all in, and begins to assign us roles in the duchy.
I’ll need to find a way to tie down that alliance in case this whole rebellion thing explodes in my face. Far over the distant Alps is Ghoastus, my only friend in this purgatory, and the only being I can trust. I didn’t care who I rebel against - ideally someone in power - but I’m dead set on shooting a proton torpedo right through the exhaust port of the medieval hierarchy. I am Cobbo, the count of Paderborn, and I have one ambition: rebellion. After finding the right table (there are six, each with a region printed on it), I squeeze through the mob of counts, dukes and kings surrounding it, and clap eyes on the beautiful county of Paderborn in Saxony.
Rosh: This is like a model UN run by the devil. Ghoastus: Ave, citizens! Ghoastus and Rosh
It’s time to tag in the master of strategy himself: Ghoastus. Luckily, however, I’ve got something better: a white sheet and a centurion helmet.
Ck2 invasion casus belli registration#
As we herd towards registration to be given our character cards, I have the chilly realisation that most of the other players have read the entirety of the seven page manual, and know what they’re doing. Purple lights are glowing in the remnants of what is either dust or dry ice, and the air is throbbing with excitable chatter. A cavernous space under stark concrete vaults, it’s often used as a nightclub, and I can see why. Nate: This place is like the physical distillation of a headache. The line where people were assigned their identities for the megagame As such, I enlisted the help of freelancer Rosh Kelly, and entered the melee for five hours of profound chaos. I was curious to see what on earth would happen if you replaced CK2’s vast array of simulated bastards with real people, and how the sheer, breathtaking amorality of medieval power-grabbing would play out when you had to look people in the eye while doing it. As part of the celebrations at PDXcon, Paradox turned the interior of the Nalepastrasse radio station (formerly the broadcast hub for communist East Germany) into a vast map of Europe, and gave 250 or so players the chance to swindle, excommunicate, marry and assassinate their way to the top of the feudal world.
Ck2 invasion casus belli Pc#
Although we won’t be able to play Crusader Kings 3 until next year, last weekend I got to try the next best thing - a massive game of Crusader Kings 2 without a single PC involved.