When King Ælla of Northumbria was captured by the Sons of Lodbrok they subjected him to the Blood Eagle. Ælla had his back sliced open, his ribs torn from his spine, and his lungs pulled through the wound to form wings. The Sons of Lodbrok were four brothers — all sons of the Viking ruler Ragnar Lodbrok. King Ælla had murdered their father by casting him into a pit of snakes.
The eldest Son of Lodbrok — Ivar the Boneless, sits atop his throne in the Petty Kingdom of Sudreyjar. He has conquered all of Scotland and scattered the noble houses to the four winds. Indeed Hugh Mac Ailpin, the son of King Donald himself, now resides in my court. A ruler in exile.
Now Ivar’s attention has turned to Ireland. Its lords are distrustful of each other and reticent to help in times of need. It would be a simple matter of picking them off one by one. What Ireland needs is a figurehead it can rally behind, a banner it can unite under. For the past twenty years of game time that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do with my friend Chris.
We started at opposite ends of the island and formed small kingdoms by usurping titles from our neighbours. Ivar was busy in Scotland but he tasted victory far faster than we could have anticipated. Now he has cut a swath through the south of Ireland and decimated our armies. My lands have been mostly untouched but Chris now holds just a single province. Ivar has declared war on him and marches his army south to finish the job, six thousand Viking warriors descend on him.
I considered the game lost and was simply seeing it through to the end when a message from the King of England arrived. A marriage offer for my second son to his first daughter. It would be matrilineal of course — any children would be of the mother’s line. I turn the idea over in my head. An alliance with the King of England could turn this whole war around. Without it we will definitely lose. Then again the children that resulted from this marriage may also have a claim on my own lands in the future.
Truth be told it didn’t take much time to decide. When faced with the prospect of annihilation I would prefer it to be far into the future. I sign the marriage proposal and twelve thousand English soldiers flood Ireland via the thirteen mile stretch of sea that separates Galloway and Ulster. Ivar’s grip on Ireland falters, and in our wake Colin “The Just” de Pitlochry rises out of the Scottish peasantry and leads a revolt against his Viking lords. We are saved. But what is the cost? We might not know for many years.
Crusader Kings 2 is a game about choices. Who do you marry? Where do you invade? How high do you set taxes? All of these decisions affect the outcome of the game. If you’ve decided that the choices in games like Mass Effect and Dragon Age are meaningless then this might be the game for you. Every choice matters, though you may not feel it for a generation or more.
The marriage offer made to my son was a result of elaborate in-game systems. If my son did not have such a high Stewardship score the offer might not have been made. If the King of England and I had not both been of the same culture and religion then I may have been passed over in favour of another. If England had been borne a Prince then there certainly would have been no Princess to marry.
Now I have another choice. With my Kingdom saved do I turn my back on the King of England? Do I send assassins after my newly married son? So that no children can come of his union. What of the rightful Kings of Scotland who wait in my court? Do I attempt to reclaim Scotland on their behalf? Or has Colin “The Just” earned his chance to prove himself as ruler of a Kingdom?
I can’t wait to find out.
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