Count Geoffroy of Thouars, 897-914 AD

(Previously on Royal Dispatch.)

Soooo it’s wife time again. I’m 52 now and less concerned about producing more children. Mainly I just need a skilled diplomat to offset my goose egg in that score. The lowborn lady Arsenda will do nicely.

While all that was going on, Wessex won their war on East Anglia, making my dreams of stealing the county of Montaigu ever more distant. Le sigh. And whoops, turns out I did have another Ermengarde lying around! My daughter no less. Off she goes to the strapping young Count Renaud of Evereux.

And what do you know, that Arnaud guy—son and heir of my boss Duke Ramnulf—honored the betrothal and married my daughter Adelinde. They look cute together. So much love. She’s my precious evil zealot.

The most important marriage news however is that my twin boys are now of age. The marriage of your heir is critically important beyond politics, as it directly influences the genetic content of your family line of rulers. As such, when it comes to marrying off my heir, I pay less attention to alliances and sometimes even the potential spouse’s actual characteristics as I obsess over a special class of inheritable traits which can benefit generations of de Thouars.

Take Blanche here for example. There a great many positive and negative inheritable traits, but see that pile of candles? That means she’s a genius. She gets +5 on all her skills, and if her kids inherit the genius trait, so will they. Plus, her name is Blanche! My heir is Guy! Guy and Blanche, Blanche and Guy! They sound fun. (Her atheism might be a problem if it manifests publicly though.) Guy’s brother Gilbert also needs a bride. He gets a nice young lady who’s a bit of a handful (deceitful, impatient, and arbitrary) but she has the inheritable trait of “beautiful.” Not bad for second place, man.

In a rare stroke of good luck, the Superman King of Wessex dies of disease, and his titles were split between his two sons. The new King of Wessex and owner of my neighboring county of Montaigu is still way too strong for me to face mano-e-mano though.

And then out of nowhere, excusez moi!

My allegedly genius daughter-in-law—who also just had a baby with my son—is making a pass at me. Clearly I need to dial down my gallantry as the ladies cannot stay away. Still, the prospect of genius babies is tempting. But no! Away, jezebel!

Blanche’s attentions are flattering if creepy, but they also remind me that I’m no spring chicken anymore. It’s the year 903 AD, I’m 57 years old, and I haven’t joined a single war yet (other than hiding in the spare rooms of my castle while Hæsteinn sacked the place). Time to change that.

That claim I have on Montaigu is considered an unpressed claim—it will expire at my death, meaning my heir would have to come up with a new claim to try and snag the county. However, if I fight a war for the claim, even if I lose, it promotes to a pressed claim, which my heir can inherit (though it will once again become unpressed, unless he pursues it himself). Is this action war lawyer game fun or what.

Montaigu’s owner, the Petty King of Wessex, Eadweard Alfredson, has about the same number of troops as I do (counting both our allies), though he has a bit more gold. I have an advantage since most of his army is across the sea in England where his main holdings are, while all I have to do is march next door to Montaigu. It’s not the slam dunk I’d prefer in a war setup, but I feel the need to press that claim. If I’m fortunate, someone else will take advantage of my war to attack King Eadweard and divide his wrath.

To war, then.

I hire a few mercenaries to bulk up my personal troops and move over to besiege Montaigu. One of my allies drops out of the war due to losing their title, while two of the other allied armies join in right away. My strongest ally—none other than my mustachioed son-in-law Bernard, who has somehow fallen ass-backward into becoming Duke of Barcelona—has yet to join the field. Wessex lands his main force in neutral territory to the southeast, as his own allies make landing behind him. He’s also bought mercenaries, as expected, making his army too large for my liking.

Spotting a tactical opportunity, I break off the siege and catch the enemy allied army from Cornwall as they land, slaughtering them. A fine first battle!

I return to the siege and Wessex advances his army to break me. I don’t like my odds—Duke Bernard is finally sending his army, but they’re too far away to reach me in time. I retreat back to Thouars, but stupidly my other ally, the Count of Rouen, maintains the siege with his own army, and this time Wessex does the slaughtering. Better to lose that force than my whole army though. Post-slaughter, Wessex moves his army far north to siege Rouen’s county, giving my own army the chance to re-siege Montaigu.

Thus, we trade occupations. I have a slight advantage in the warscore, since I hold the war target of Montaigu. King Eadweard still has more troops though. Surprisingly he sends me an offer of white peace—i.e., we both walk away from the war, losing and gaining nothing.

Hell nah!

By the way, have I not mentioned that during all this time, a serial killer has been stalking my palace? A couple nameless commoners turned up dead and mutilated, then it escalated to two of my councilors. I always took the “pray this goes away” response because I didn’t have the gold nor political capital to spend an on investigation. Well, the killer was revealed! And it’s my wife again. No not that other murdering wife, the new murdering wife.

Soooooo, yeah. Awkward. I’m not inclined to get into the murdering along with her, nor take the rap for freeing her, and putting her in prison means I don’t have the benefit of my consort bonuses … so it’s the axe for you, milady. Turning into a regular Henry VIII situation over here. I cure my brief bachelorhood by marrying nice age-appropriate lowborn Italian lady named Alfonsina, who is good at both diplomacy and warfare.

Back in that war, I splurged on another company of mercenaries to bulk out my army. Since I hold Montaigu, I’m gradually winning the war, but my mercenary contracts will run out before I can force a surrender. And I can’t afford to renew them. So I head north and feint at Wessex’s forces, which are still mucking around Rouen. He runs, but I surprise a detachment of four hundred men, slaughtering them but good. Now I can just chase the rest of his army around the map until I catch ‘em.

Yeah you better run! But you didn’t run fast enough.

Over the course of these two battles, half of Wessex’s army was destroyed, and I captured two of his nobles and maimed or killed a couple others. But my own nobles took hits too, with several getting killed—none other than good old Blahoslav dies in glorious battle! Oh Blahoslav, we’ll miss you most of all.

Wessex gives us a good chase, but after three more running battles, finally his forces are shattered and most of his knights are dead or in my dungeon. And so in the fullness of time, Montaigu is mine! Something like thirty years of scheming over one county. One more step toward becoming a Duke!

Feeling sentimental about finally taking Montaigu, I check in on ol Hæsteinn. That dude is still somehow alive at 92 years old, which is like a thousand years for characters in this game. He’s much reduced in power though, clinging to one last county up in Ireland. When (or … if?) he finally dies, I might have even gotten my first wife back out of his concubinage—if she hadn’t died of a coughing fit while that monster somehow lives on.

With Geoffroy in the winter of his years, it’s time to consolidate and generally stay out trouble to smooth the path for my heir. Two of my daughters are married to dukes now (one to my liege Arnaud, son of Ramnulf). But both dukes are weak and prone to losing wars. And our ultimate liege, King Louis II of West Francia, is now losing wars both to another Norse invasion and a couple of his own dukes fighting for independence.

I covet the neighboring county of Poitiers, now granted to my grandson Sigismond. He accidentally gets a claim on Thouars, so I perhaps unwisely spend gold to fabricate a claim on Poiters. Either claim would be difficult to act on, since we’re allies at moment. Sigismond also has substantial other allies it would be difficult to overcome.

Fate intervenes however, as at my advanced age of 66, I am struck with melancholy. In game terms this is a serious medical-ish condition that impacts all my scores and my general health. And sure enough, I get the (not always reliable) grim skull popup indicating that my death is near. Definitely should just sit tight and wait for the end, so my heir doesn’t inherit some ongoing mess I created.

And then, in a final indignity, it turns out my daughter Adelaide, wife of Duke “The Moustache” Bernard, has born a child fathered by none other than our king!

Prima nocta much? Though note this is the second time Adelaide has been caught cheating on Bernard.

Sadly, the shock of this latest familial indiscretion was too much for old Geoffroy.

Long live Count Guy! The guy who is a count! And with his high stewardship, he’s the kind of guy who likes to count!

Next: More than just a wife guy.