Emperor Hélie of Francia, 1384-1397 AD

At last, a sexy punishment for sexy crimes.

(Previously on Royal Dispatch.)

Back to more peaceful pursuits, like warfare. I execute a quick cleanup of Norway, ny now little more than an amputated stump of a kingdom left over from my Scandinavian conglomeration. With the Norwegians duly absorbed, it’s time to look south once again. Here’s the current state of the nearby African coast.

I would like to connect my various fragmented territories to create a nice line of approach to Arabia in the east. For this next phase I will attempt to carve out contiguous chunks of the Yahyid sultanate and the Islid and Tabassid emirates, which I think will allow me to create a local kingdom title when smushed all together.

Or rather, I was about to attempt that, when one of my stronger vassals crashes the party and takes over a chunk of the Yahyid sultanate—enough that I can go ahead and usurp the title. I’d give him what is now a kingdom title as a reward, but that guy already has two duchies back in Spain. I frown on cross-kingdom ownership of lands, other than my own of course, so I shan’t encourage him.

Revising my plans a bit after examining the local webs of alliance, I embark on ducal holy wars versus what’s left of the Yahyid and Islid emirates, as well as chunks of the Tabassids and Hazmid sultanate, and the lone extraneous county of Qashtiliya.

The Tabassids give up half their territory first. After some convincing from the Knights Templar, the Yahyid remnant succumbs. The Hazmids also give up when I capture the sultan’s wife in a siege. Lil’ Qashtiliya clings on like grim death, until that becomes actual death.

And speaking of death, Empress Ælfthryth dies of old age. They just do not make empresses as sturdy as they used to. Oh well, welcome to the new Empress Luitgard von Schelz, my fourth wife. I’m 79 years old and in fine health by the way.

Thankfully, the Islids finally give up, and I have a bunch of new titles to distribute. Plus I can create the African kingdom of Maghreb. Still only about halfway across Africa to Arabia, but it’s progress.

By this point I’ve run up a pretty large vassal opinion penalty due to all these wars, plus I have some inconvenient peace treaties to wait out. Therefore I’ll take a couple years off, hit some feasts, spend gold on new buildings and the like. But then!

Centule escaped again, and this time from the dungeon rather than house arrest like last time. At least he lost a leg in the caper, it seems. You know what, I’m tired of chasing my gross incest son. But there’s something he can’t escape from: the wrath of God.

Sometimes it’s pretty great to have the Pope in your pocket. I’d like to see ol’ Prince Centule wriggle his way out of this jam!! In fact he does not—my other son Orson, who is Centule’s brother and liege, throws CEntule in his dungeon for being Excommunicado, and he takes away Centule’s county title. Suck on that.

I spend a year partying at my rival-son’s misfortune. Sadly my daughter Valence dies from complications related to obesity. A cautionary tale for over-feasting, as I am still perpetually doing the Losing Weight decision myself.

While I wait on the clock on those treaties, Centule tries to make peace between us from his brother’s jail.

We have certainly had our “differences.” Right now our difference is that you’re in jail and I’m the Emperor. This beef remains unsquashed!

Other things that need squashing are more chunks of the Tabassid emirate, the Hazmid sultanate, and the independent county of Satfura. Triple holy war go! But damn, Orson releases Centule from jail, presumably for a bribe or something. At least he’s got no titles anymore. Unbelievably he has the nerve to show back up at my court though, and I now have very little chance to successfully imprison him. Oh well, maybe he’ll die in a war somewhere.

Satfura folds immediately as I capture the child-ruler’s uncle in battle. The Tabassids field an army of 20k troops versus my 170k and are annihilated, so only a matter of sieging down their keeps. As their capital falls, so do they. I siege every siegeable building in the Hazmid sultanate, capturing several notables including the Sultan’s wife (again), and they surrender.

Okay, so definitely establishing a nice African rump state out here for future invasions eastward.

Now what? I contemplate getting into some more scraps on my way to the Middle East, but at the tender age of 84, my health is at last in the Poor category. Best to just enjoy these final days and not muck it up for my heir and grandson Hélie. And right as I have this thought, I start gaining and losing the Obese trait, and gaining and losing the skull icon letting me know that death is nigh at last.

Fortunately I have one final (?) opportunity to give the finger to my incestuous son Centule. Since he had the nerve to return to my court after his fourth imprisonment, that means he’s in my matchmaking power when his wife dies.

I marry him to a nice lady who is riddled with syphilis. Have fun kids!

Since I appear to have a little life left in these old bones, might as well take another few pieces of African coast. I declare wars on the remnants of the Hazmid sultunate, the Zaydid emirate, and the independent county of Medjerda.

Medjerda falls immediately. And then, so do I!

Welp, usually don’t like to do crown succession with a war on, but here we are. Home stretch into the last couple generations!

Next: Onward to Arabia.