>>6179361
>You were the king in your own mind even before you were crowned. You will not let what happened to your parents and grandparents happen to you. And that will require a firm hand.
Firm, but not insanse. Lets hope.

>>6179361
>You seem to inherited your grandmother's looks, particularly her ice-blue eyes. You've been given a wide berth for this, leading to a lonely life

>>6179361
>>You have very high standards, expecting perfection from yourself as much as you do from others
We must go more insane. Make mom and grandpa proud.

>>6179361
>>You have very high standards, expecting perfection from yourself as much as you do from others

>>6179415
>>6179424
>>6179373
>>6179365

Perfection in all things has been your watchword almost as soon as you could speak. It is perhaps only your elder sister who understands your unforgivingly high standards. She has gone unmarried for your sake (lest a pretender seize the throne through marriage as your father did) and is your only familial comfort as your reign begins.

That soon changes, however, as proposals of marriage accost to you from all sides. As you are surrounded by serpents hidden beneath smiling faces and solemn oaths, you are advised to ally yourself with someone who can support that last argument of kings, should it ever come to that. You, of course, have no issue with dispensing with foolish notions like affection and attraction. Power is a far greater aphrodisiac than any shapely bosom.

Whom do you marry, in this, the 2nd year of your reign?
>Mary, a distant cousin from your grandfather line, whose father is the strongest among the lords who reside in your kingdom. You are told the marriage would put to bed all whispers of conspiracy, though it does put a sour taste in your mouth to call father the very man who shot an arrow through your mother's heart.
>Genevieve, a foreign princess, daughter of a mighty emperor whose support and absolute promises of safety come at the expense of a certain humiliation. The difference in powers ensures you will always live under a foreign heel (even if that is the safest place to be).
>Simona, the sister of a relatively obscure lord, but one of the few that did not participate in the insurrection and one whose martial genius is so great that the others did not dare to coerce him. His father was one of those who was lifted into nobility by your father's hand. The union would therefore send an unwelcome message to those older barons, of a possible changing of the guard.

>>6179454
>>Simona, the sister of a relatively obscure lord, but one of the few that did not participate in the insurrection and one whose martial genius is so great that the others did not dare to coerce him. His father was one of those who was lifted into nobility by your father's hand. The union would therefore send an unwelcome message to those older barons, of a possible changing of the guard.
Barons delenda est.

>>6179454
We're insane, perfect excuse to marry our sister

>>6179454
>Simona, the sister of a relatively obscure lord, but one of the few that did not participate in the insurrection and one whose martial genius is so great that the others did not dare to coerce him. His father was one of those who was lifted into nobility by your father's hand. The union would therefore send an unwelcome message to those older barons, of a possible changing of the guard.
A wolf may shed his coat, but never his own nature.

>>6179454
>Mary, a distant cousin from your grandfather line, whose father is the strongest among the lords who reside in your kingdom. You are told the marriage would put to bed all whispers of conspiracy, though it does put a sour taste in your mouth to call father the very man who shot an arrow through your mother's heart.

>>6179468
>>6179469
>>6179470

Your union with the sister of an obscure, recently knighted lord (or what goes for recent in the minds of those obsessed with lineage and heredity) is seen as a troubling sign of unwelcome change. Simona's brother, Lord Samuel Porter, never expected to receive the favor of a king, but in becoming one of your brothers (and your elder to boot) he seems to take to the office of protector with a seriousness and attention to detail that equals your own. For all that he lacks ambition, and sees his duties as more familial than official. He is a brother first, and you feel you can trust him.

As for Simona herself, she is a sweet, tenderhearted creature, the sort to cry over a sparrow lying crushed on the road. Not long after your wedding vows the second purpose of your marriage is fulfilled, and later that year she gives birth to a healthy girl. Not soon after that she is with child again. This time it is with a true heir, a son; in fact, a pair of sons, a double bounty.

Alas, a few years later, one of the twins suffers an accident which leaves him crippled and in permanent pain. The other, who will now inherit your crown without contest, refuses to leave his brother's side, at the expense of his studies and education in these crucial formative years. The physic assures you that he can support the poor cripple's life for another two or three miserable years, especially with the unceasing attention that your wife gives him. Yet, even he advises you to end your child's suffering. He says nightshade is painless.

And you need only one heir.

What will you do with your ailing child, in this, the 11th year of your reign?
>Let him go to eternal rest, come what may. His brother will only be further motivated to greatness by the loss. His mother will hate you as long as you live, but such things can endured, if one is a king.
>Let him live on by whatever art and care are available, even if it means his own suffering and the loss of competence of your heir. You cannot withstand such a stain upon your soul.

>>6179494
>>Let him go to eternal rest, come what may. His brother will only be further motivated to greatness by the loss. His mother will hate you as long as you live, but such things can endured, if one is a king

>>6179494
>Let him go to eternal rest, come what may. His brother will only be further motivated to greatness by the loss. His mother will hate you as long as you live, but such things can endured, if one is a king.

>>6179494
>Let him go to eternal rest, come what may. His brother will only be further motivated to greatness by the loss. His mother will hate you as long as you live, but such things can endured, if one is a king.

>>6179494
>Let him go to eternal rest, come what may. His brother will only be further motivated to greatness by the loss. His mother will hate you as long as you live, but such things can endured, if one is a king.
Perfection demands sacrifice, no?

>>6179494

>Let him go to eternal rest, come what may. His brother will only be further motivated to greatness by the loss. His mother will hate you as long as you live, but such things can endured, if one is a king.

Surely we can make it seem like an accident or otherwise obscure our action?

>>6179494
>Let him go to eternal rest, come what may. His brother will only be further motivated to greatness by the loss. His mother will hate you as long as you live, but such things can endured, if one is a king.

>>6179494
>End his suffering.

Perfection demands sacrifice.

>>6179504
>>6179509
>>6179513
>>6179514

You order the nightshade be prepared, and when the time comes you are the only one present in the room when the physic administers it. He tells you that the poison will numb the pain before it exacts its price. But even the small, final smile upon your son's face is little comfort to the anguished screams and door-beating of your wife, who begs, who demands, who bargains to be let in, to put a stop to this.

And when the deed is done, something cold and quiet entangles itself about your heart. In the moments before dawn or after midnight, you sometimes ponder the meaning of that smile, but to no satisfactory answer.

Your wife does not speak to you for two years. But no matter, she cannot refuse you her nuptial purpose, and two more children are born in the interim. A son and daughter. But these seem only to remind her of what she has lost, what she deems that you have taken. Her severe despondence requires, several times, dramatic intercession. And her vow of silence is finally broken only to throw the bitter irony in your face. You would kill your son to spare his pain, but not afford your wife the same mercy.

As for your heir, as you predicted, the death of his counterpart spurs him to ferocious pursuit of excellence, which, combined with his natural gifts, allows him to not only meet but exceed the standards you demand of him. And if he shares in his mother's hatred of you, he does not show it.

The years of peace you've thus far enjoyed are suddenly broken by the action of brigands on some of your border territories. These are lands owned by the descendants of those whom your father had raised from commonhood, A proper response would require exhausting a significant portion your coffers, money you have painstakingly saved over the last decade. And these lands are not of such great worth that their loss would pain you.

What will you do about these brigands, in this, the 13th year of your reign?
>Muster the men of your castle, with yourself and your brother-in-law at the helm. What is the point of wealth if it is not spent in defense of your kingdom?
>What are the barons for if not to serve their king when he needs them? Summon the old barons and coerce them to campaign against these brigands--at their own cost, of course.
>Leave the brigands alone. They will not dare to encroach beyond the limits they've set for themselves, and once the spoils in them are exhausted, they'll leave of their own accord.

>>6179556
>Muster the men of your castle, with yourself and your brother-in-law at the helm. What is the point of wealth if it is not spent in defense of your kingdom?
While the lands aren't worth that much, it's our reputation that's at risk. Besides, such vermin don't deserve to plunder in our kingdom.

>>6179556
>What are the barons for if not to serve their king when he needs them? Summon the old barons and coerce them to campaign against these brigands--at their own cost, of course.

>>6179556
>Leave the brigands alone. They will not dare to encroach beyond the limits they've set for themselves, and once the spoils in them are exhausted, they'll leave of their own accord.

We married their *spits* common-blooded daughter. That should be enough to satisfy those descendants of trash. No need to exhaust our coffers when those vassals already got great servicefrom us.

>>6179556
>Muster the men of your castle, with yourself and your brother-in-law at the helm. What is the point of wealth if it is not spent in defense of your kingdom?

>>6179556
>Muster the men of your castle, with yourself and your brother-in-law at the helm. What is the point of wealth if it is not spent in defense of your kingdom?

>>6179556
>Muster the men

We aren't saving for any great purpose.

>>6179561
>>6179608
>>6179655
>>6179661
>>6179663

You muster the fighting men of your castle and set off on campaign yourself, with your brother-in-law in tow. Although you cannot boast to possess a keen tactical mind, in strength of arms you have no equal, having engaged in rigorous training since you were a boy.

The brigands turn out to be not mere peasant rabble, but displaced veterans of the emperor across the sea, led by a man with almost as much cunning as your brother-in-law. His hit-and-run tactics make him an elusive enemy (and expensive to pursue), but at last, just as your funds are near depleted, the scoundrels are ensnared in a trap, and their leader finds his death upon your own lance.

You slaughter the rest and put their bodies on public display. It will not bring back those you have lost, nor the money you have spent, but your rage, at least, is satisfied. And the gesture seems to work, for another six years passes in perfect peace.

Your wife bears you another son and daughter. The last one must be cut out of her. Her final words to you are to name this child (a boy) after the you both have lost. Her last gesture is one of love: a tender caress to join the gentle smile you think so often of. At the funeral you do not weep, which is proper. But even in private you cannot summon tears, which frightens you, though you tell no one of it.

Your heir is a man grown now. He has the astonishing beauty that your father possessed, golden locks and a well-formed face. From you he inherited strength and a cool disposition. Of his heart and his true thoughts, however, you know absolutely nothing.

One evening, out on a hunting trip, the two of you encounter a great and ancient stag, with horns that appear as gold in the dying light. When your son reaches for his spear, you stop him. The stag suddenly raises its head and gazes at you and then just as suddenly it bounds away. You forbid your uncomprehending son from giving chase, without yourself knowing the reason. However, later that night, you find yourself unable to sleep, weeping uncontroably.

You see a shadow move across your tent, with a long sharp thing in its hand. It stops before the entry flaps. Pauses. You tell it to enter, in a voice without fear or reprimand. The flaps part, your son's head appears, then his body. He studies your face a moment, your tears shining by slat of moonlight. Then he bows his head and slips away. When morning comes you cannot discern the night before from a dream, but the stag leaves an indelible impression.

You ponder its significance for many moons.

What will you do about this portent, in this, the 20th year of your reign?
>Ignore it. It was nothing more than a meaningless combination of happenstance.
>Change your house's sigil to the pattern of the stag. The time is right for such a change.
>Return to the forest, find and kill the animal and mount it on your hall.

>>6179716
>Change your house's sigil to the pattern of the stag. The time is right for such a change.

>>6179716
>>Change your house's sigil to the pattern of the stag. The time is right for such a change.
It is so

>>6179716
>Return to the forest, find and kill the animal and mount it on your hall.

Fucking spiritual shit. WE ARE THE KING! The only thing I bow down to is OURSELVES. Mount it's head as proof of our dominance.

>>6179716
>Change your house's sigil to the pattern of the stag. The time is right for such a change.

>>6179720
the kid was about to murder us, pretty sure this'll fast track that murder

>>6179716
>Change your house's sigil to the pattern of the stag. The time is right for such a change.

>>6179716
>>Return to the forest, find and kill the animal and mount it on your hall.

No spiritual shit

>>6179724
So be it. We will show no fear, no weakness, and definitely no tears. If we die it will be silently and with pride and a king's authority.

>>6179716
>Return to the forest, find and kill the animal and mount it on your hall.
As an anon said, perfection demands sacrifice

>>6179716
>Change your house's sigil to the pattern of the stag. The time is right for such a change.

>>6179716
>Change your house's sigil to the pattern of the stag. The time is right for such a change.

>>6179716
>Change your house's sigil to the pattern of the stag. The time is right for such a change.

>>6179716
>Change your house's sigil to the pattern of the stag. The time is right for such a change.

>>6179716
>Change the pattern to a stag

>>6179716
Sorry I can't quote everyone, 4chan thinks its spam for some reason...

You order all the tapestries be ripped from their mounts. You order the shields and the banners remade in a new image. The image of a stag with golden horns. The old barons are not pleased with such a change, but the years following your last campaign were filled with plenty and having seen for themselves what you do with your enemies, they remain reluctant friends.

As when a man changes his soiled clothes to what is clean and fresh, the change of sigil seems to reinvigorate not only yourself but your kingdom as well. You are now in middle age and fall to think on posterity. How will your people remember you? You have not tortured them, like your grandfather, nor let them suffer the consequences of incompetence and imprudence, as your own parents. You have been just, mighty, careful, honest.

Yet something feels missing. It is not quite the height of perfection you imagined for yourself when you were a boy. Will they even remember such a placid existence? Finally, one day, you hit upon the solution: a great work. Not some gaudy monument of worship, but something that will touch the lives of all who reside in your kingdom. It will take generations to bring to being and must influence generations to come.

What great project will you undertake, in this, the 21st year of your reign?
>A great road which circles your kingdom entire, from the southern coast to the northern isles, from the vast eastern sea to the channel in the west. A strong trunk to unite all the broken roads, that all the wanderers traveling among them may remember your name.
>A great fleet of ships to the east, in anticipation of a quest for uncharted lands. How dull it would be to die in sleep, to succumb to the body's weakness and density of time. You'd rather strive for something hopeless and impossible and test the limits of perfection.
>A great library, like the ones of old, where all the world's knowledge is gathered from all the world's secret places, the ruins and wrecks, the ancient minds. You shall send out your scholars, two-by-two, and you shall train a new generation of academics, as strong in will as in word.

>>6179988
>A great library
You were perfect in body at youth, and now you must be perfect in mind. Build the library and dedicate yourself to study. Your son is ready to take the crown, so let him and become his advisor. You will be remember as both warrior and scholar.

>>6179988
>A great road which circles your kingdom entire, from the southern coast to the northern isles, from the vast eastern sea to the channel in the west. A strong trunk to unite all the broken roads, that all the wanderers traveling among them may remember your name.

Roads last longer than wood and pulp.

>>6179988
>>A great road which circles your kingdom entire, from the southern coast to the northern isles, from the vast eastern sea to the channel in the west. A strong trunk to unite all the broken roads, that all the wanderers traveling among them may remember your name.

>>6179988
Hmm. A road is an objectively safer and arguably better prospect that improves everything it touches.

But our king is a perfectionist. So yes, make ready for a travel exploration. We'll abdicate the crown to our heir, who is excellent, and set out on a risky expedition. If we die then we have sailed into legend leaving a secure kingdom. If we return, then it is a larger jewel on our crown.
And our kid would probably kill us, but that's alright. Perfection demands sacrifice

>>6179988

>A great road which circles your kingdom entire, from the southern coast to the northern isles, from the vast eastern sea to the channel in the west. A strong trunk to unite all the broken roads, that all the wanderers traveling among them may remember your name

There’s probably no bigger benefit we can provide, plus it sets a tradition for great public works. Hopefully our son will keep that in mind after he assassinates us.

We might preemptively make an arrangement with him for abdication in 5-10 years, in order to prevent our death, btw.

>>6179994
>>6179998
>>6180002
>>6180013
>>6180030

All across your kingdom, you raise the call for laborers, surveyors, carpenters, masons to apply themselves to the construction of a great road. One that will take generations to complete.

You try and impress upon your son the significance of this work so that he at least will continue it after you are gone. But you do not know if he truly understands.

Seven years pass in endless toil.

The old barons sneer at the imagination of a king, who in the end, proves himself the descendant of a stonecutter. When your coffers run dry in the unquenchable pit of this project, they refuse to open their own. Instead they conspire with the emperor across the sea to strike you while you are weak. They entreat him to send his army. Some of them send him their swords, a gesture of future fealty. All this does not pass without your knowledge.

The time comes when the emperor's ships are sighted on the same coast you had hung his deserters. Upon that coast you meet them with your men, those barons who had not betrayed you, your brother-in-law, and also your son. You are outnumbered. And your scouts warn you that the emperor's forces will be joined by your old barons (swiftly, by your own road) just as soon as they prove a sufficient advantage. You must achieve victory here and now, or your kingdom will be lost.

Your son and your brother-in-law debate tactics and strategy, but, in the end, the battle is decided by force of will. The whole host of your cavalry, with yourself at their helm, lead an unstoppable charge at the decisive moment, unhorsing the emperor's general--his brother--and taking him captive. But as you wheel back to your own lines, you feel a sudden hot breathless pain. An arrow has struck just between your shoulder blades. Your vision blurs. Your men rally to protect you and carry you from the field, but from the numbness that so rapidly replaces the pain, you know death has come.

In the tent, it is your brother-in-law, steadfast to the end, who holds your hand as you die. He tells you that your son has completed your victory, not satisfied with merely routing the enemy, but going so far as to set fire to their ships and hold all of them captive. The ransoms will be enormous. But as for your wound--and here you touch his hand and beg him to be silent on what you already know. You tell him to watch over your son and your other five children. You tell him not to punish the old barons overmuch, for they were thinking of the kingdom too, in their own shortsighted way. And you thank him for being by your side.

His image fades, replaced by warm, painless light. What you see next is the answer to that smile you have held sacred in your memory for so long, but what it is no man can fathom until his hour is come.

And then you die.

What will history remember you by, in this, the 28th (and last) year of your reign?
>Chose name: _
>...the Builder
>...the Able
>...the Perfected

>>6180037
>...the Builder
For we weren't the perfection we sought for, but we have layed the foundations, the foundations of a road to the future, a strong dynasty and a stronger kingdom.

>>6180037
>The builder.

An epitaph fitting.
Our subjects ought regard us better than the last two.

But these barons have betrayed the royal line twice.
They are unfit for their positions.

>>6180037
If it wasn't clear: you can also name this king (who has, thus far gone nameless), the epithet will be appended to that.

>>6180037
>...the Builder

We were a good king.

>>6180053
Joachim the Builder.

>>6180037
>Chose name: Walter II

Our peasant father wanted to ape the traditions of kings, our name is a monument to his ego. The byname we carry will be our real legacy, and a spit his eye, as we excelled, where he fell from power the same way he rose to it.

>>6180037
>>6180062 +1
The builder

>>6180062
I'll support it.

>>6180039
>>6180052
>>6180062
>>6180066
>>6180071
>>6180054
>>6180055

You have buried your father today. The crowning ceremony is in a few weeks, but that crown you saw upon his head your whole life, is already heavy upon your own. You are nearly twice his age when he sat upon the high seat, yet you feel as unready as if you were still a boy.

The funeral was as perfect as any that has ever been witnessed by men. You saw to that yourself, and the name upon the cairn. King Walter the Builder. Your father would have been pleased.

Something about that irks you. That even in his death he would demand from you his pleasure, your total perfection. As you sit here now alone, with your ghosts, with the only memory of him that has any meaning to you, the rest too inscrutable to unentangle, you ponder whether you would have actually done it. If you had not seen the tears, heard the moaning in his sleep and the whispered names, and if your breast had not been smote by the sight of your father's secret grief--would you have slain him?

But you did see all this. And you did not destroy him.

You are certain it affected your character:
>It showed you that none are infallible. You should have fulfilled the dread purpose you swore yourself to so long ago, and it was only because you were a man that you could not. Therefore do not be a man henceforth, but a wolf.
>It robbed you of your glorious purpose, leaving you with a gnawing hole in the very center of your heart. You sense with dread that your remaining life will revolve around its brief and futile reliefs.
>It revealed to you the true nature of God as neither benevolent nor merciful, but a punisher and a true judge. It is simply that all are damned. And if so, and if all are also made in His image, then why not pursue that judgement here on earth? And who better a punisher, than a king?

>>6180096
>>It showed you that none are infallible. You should have fulfilled the dread purpose you swore yourself to so long ago, and it was only because you were a man that you could not. Therefore do not be a man henceforth, but a wolf.

>>6180096

>It robbed you of your glorious purpose, leaving you with a gnawing hole in the very center of your heart. You sense with dread that your remaining life will revolve around its brief and futile reliefs.

An unresolvable knot!

>>6180096
>It showed you that none are infallible. You should have fulfilled the dread purpose you swore yourself to so long ago, and it was only because you were a man that you could not. Therefore do not be a man henceforth, but a wolf.

>>6180096
>Be a wolf.

>>6180096
>It showed you that none are infallible. You should have fulfilled the dread purpose you swore yourself to so long ago, and it was only because you were a man that you could not. Therefore do not be a man henceforth, but a wolf.

>>6180096
>It showed you that none are infallible. You should have fulfilled the dread purpose you swore yourself to so long ago, and it was only because you were a man that you could not. Therefore do not be a man henceforth, but a wolf.

>>6180096
>It robbed you of your glorious purpose, leaving you with a gnawing hole in the very center of your heart. You sense with dread that your remaining life will revolve around its brief and futile reliefs.

>>6180096

The sigil stag stares down at you from the wall. In its visage you see something of yourself, the pensive eyes, the staid mouth, and, of course, the golden horns like your own golden curls. And that was perhaps how your father saw you. A herbivore, with equipment to defend itself and its own, but nothing else.

But that is not how you see yourself. What is a man really but some amalgam of beasts and gods? His high natures profit him nothing. It robs him of control or gives him the mere illusion of it. Better to be a beast. A stag? No. Better to be the hunter than the hunted. And therefore a wolf.

Teeth, claws and speed. God grant you these things. All else is the vestige of man.

Your first test of this philosophy comes quite soon. Your father-in-law, no doubt from a dying charge of your father's, is keen to see you married. At twenty-six and still chaste, you are already something of anomaly in your court. Even your two younger brothers have already consummated the deed, even the youngest one (who is scarcely past boyhood) that bears the name of your lost counterpart.

You entertain the idea of a queen, if only to humor your pestering father-by-proxy.

Whom do you marry in this, the 1st year of your reign?
>Catherine, the rich, youthful widow of the head of the old baronial faction. A rebellious spirit, so it is said, and so much the more for her treasonous husband's death at your hands.
>Libella, an ugly prophetess whom even the ancient nuns regarded with respect, though they did not let her join in their habit. Her auguries are never wrong they say.
>No one. Women are creatures who are prey of wolves in all the tales, not their comforts or consorts. And they shall never be even that much to you.

>>6180316
>Libella, an ugly prophetess whom even the ancient nuns regarded with respect, though they did not let her join in their habit. Her auguries are never wrong they say.

Madness maxing go!

>>6180316
>Catherine, the rich, youthful widow of the head of the old baronial faction. A rebellious spirit, so it is said, and so much the more for her treasonous husband's death at your hands.

>>6180316
>Catherine, the rich, youthful widow of the head of the old baronial faction. A rebellious spirit, so it is said, and so much the more for her treasonous husband's death at your hands.

>>6180316
>Katherine

For explicitly her rebellious spirit.
I expect some level of abuse at her, but in a nice fantasy she is a rebellion of our own.
Mother was a meek thing. We have no use for meek things.

>>6180316
>Libella, an ugly prophetess whom even the ancient nuns regarded with respect, though they did not let her join in their habit. Her auguries are never wrong they say.

>>6180316

>Libella, an ugly prophetess whom even the ancient nuns regarded with respect, though they did not let her join in their habit. Her auguries are never wrong they say.

There’s obviously something deeply wrong with us but I’m here for it

>>6180316
>Libella
We need a heir and maybe he will inherit his mother gift. Also she can become a trusty advisor,
Her ugliness is of no consequence, no one will question our choice (without suffering the consequences) and if we want some beautiful body there are plenty of maids in the castle.

>>6180316
>>Libella, an ugly prophetess whom even the ancient nuns regarded with respect, though they did not let her join in their habit. Her auguries are never wrong they say.
The frog will kiss the prince and turn into a beautiful woman

>>6180316
>Libella, an ugly prophetess whom even the ancient nuns regarded with respect, though they did not let her join in their habit. Her auguries are never wrong they say.

>Libella, an ugly prophetess whom even the ancient nuns regarded with respect, though they did not let her join in their habit. Her auguries are never wrong they say.

>>6180316
>Catherine, the rich, youthful widow of the head of the old baronial faction. A rebellious spirit, so it is said, and so much the more for her treasonous husband's death at your hands.

>>6180316
>Catherine, the rich, youthful widow of the head of the old baronial faction. A rebellious spirit, so it is said, and so much the more for her treasonous husband's death at your hands.

>>6180316
>>Catherine, the rich, youthful widow of the head of the old baronial faction. A rebellious spirit, so it is said, and so much the more for her treasonous husband's death at your hands.

>>6180316
>Libella, an ugly prophetess whom even the ancient nuns regarded with respect, though they did not let her join in their habit. Her auguries are never wrong they say.

True prophecy is a great tool in the hands of a king.

>>6180316
>Catherine, the rich, youthful widow of the head of the old baronial faction. A rebellious spirit, so it is said, and so much the more for her treasonous husband's death at your hands.

>>6180316
Against the wishes of everyone in your family and even the general rules of propriety you have so fastidiously followed all your life, you marry an illiterate, pockmarked hag who lived in such severe isolation that even the ancient nuns who supported her with their alms regarded her with a mix of fear and awe.

Libella the Prophetess they call her.

On your very first meeting, she snatches your hand, tracing the lines on your palm with her overgrown nails, without her (surprisingly beautiful) eyes leaving your face, and declares that you will live to a ripe old age, that your kingdom will prosper beyond your imagining, and that the moment you consummate your marriage with her will begin the destruction of that which you hold most dear in this world. She promises you thirty years of unendurable suffering. She promises not a single heir to issue from her womb, and the loss of her prescience. And finally, she promises perfect loyalty and obedience as your wife, for as long as she lives. And her auguries are never wrong.

You marry her the very next day and consummate the marriage that very night. You find her praying over you in the morning, and every morning for the next ten years without any lapse. And a strange thing happens over those ten years, first, her disfigurements gradually fade away. Every night you find her with one less blemish on her cheek, until finally there remains only a radiance that makes her the envy of all women who behold her, and yourself the envy of all husbands. Second, you discover in her a companion and confidant you could never have expected of a woman. As she promised, her powers of augury are gone (or she has abandoned them, and nothing you offer or threaten can seem to change her mind to prophecy again), and her words, when she speaks at all, are either cryptic or painfully blunt, but she is almost never wrong.

There are only two strikes against her: first, she seems to be barren (a point of great interest for the old barons). Second, at the end of the fourth year you contract a strange, persistent cough that none of your physicians can heal. But it is only a mild annoyance and it comes and goes with the turning of the seasons. And you could ask for no better or more attentive nurse than your wife.

The construction of the road which your father had begun so many years ago leads to an interesting development among the skilled laborers in your kingdom. They have organized themselves into a guild, lead by a group of educated and wealthy masons, and demand greater protections and rights under the law, particularly against injustices committed by the nobility.

What will you do about these upstarts, in this, the 11th year of your reign?
>Grant them their privileges. They seek only the means to author their own fates and that is admirable and good.
>Refuse them their rights and crush their efforts at organization. Creation is done and the troupes were cast a million years ago. Nothing of that can be altered.

>>6180750
>Grant them their privileges. They seek only the means to author their own fates and that is admirable and good.

>>6180750
>>Refuse them their rights and crush their efforts at organization. Creation is done and the troupes were cast a million years ago. Nothing of that can be altered

>>6180750
>Refuse them their rights and crush their efforts at organization. Creation is done and the troupes were cast a million years ago. Nothing of that can be altered.
First they demand rights, next they upend the social order. Die

>>6180750
>Grant them their privileges. They seek only the means to author their own fates and that is admirable and good.
They might prove a very useful weapons against the old barons.

>>6180750
>Grant them their privileges. They seek only the means to author their own fates and that is admirable and good.
If we want the kingdom to prosper guilds are the natural next step for an enlightened king

>>6180750
>Grant them their privileges. They seek only the means to author their own fates and that is admirable and good.

>>6180750

>Grant them their privileges. They seek only the means to author their own fates and that is admirable and good.

Isn’t this exactly what our father had hoped to achieve - setting our people on a path to greatness?

>>6180750
>>Refuse them their rights and crush their efforts at organization. Creation is done and the troupes were cast a million years ago. Nothing of that can be altered

>>6180750
>Grant them their privileges. They seek only the means to author their own fates and that is admirable and good.
The guilds will serve as a counterbalance to the barons.

>>6180750
>>Refuse them their rights and crush their efforts at organization. Creation is done and the troupes were cast a million years ago. Nothing of that can be altered

>>6180750
>Grant them their privileges. They seek only the means to author their own fates and that is admirable and good.
Fuck the barons. Drop kick the barons. Punch the barons in the head.

>>6180750
>Grant them their privileges. They seek only the means to author their own fates and that is admirable and good.

But make them pay an annual fee to the Crown for this new ‘Royal Charter’

>>6180750
>Grant them their privileges. They seek only the means to author their own fates and that is admirable and good.

>>6180750
>Grant them the rights.

>>6180750
We are going to suffer 30 years of pain from that cough because of her aren't we? Well, so long as we can find someone to be our heir that isn't from her, say an adoption, then we shouldn't need to worry about the barons trying to be fucking clever with how they try and get more power for themseves like always.

>Grant them their privileges. They seek only the means to author their own fates and that is admirable and good.
Weaken the barons and our reign grows ever stronger over them.

>>6181035
>Well, so long as we can find someone to be our heir that isn't from her, say an adoption
I say find a willing bedwench and father a bastard that way. Like Abraham and Hagar.

>>6181035
I assumed our throne would pass to one of our brothers or nephews upon our passing. Maybe we can take one under our wing to ensure a smooth transition.