Finally, after years of waiting, you’ll soon be able to conquer Crusader Kings 2’s medieval world as a duck. This might be the Holy Fury expansion’s single greatest feature, but you probably wouldn’t find it unless you were looking. Not into fowl? You can play as a dynasty of hedgehogs, cats, elephants and even dragons. One of my neighbouring counts is an egg. 

‘Animal Kingdom’ is a hidden setting for Holy Fury’s random maps. Instead of playing on the historical map, you can play around with a list of settings and have the game generate something new. The geography stays the same, but entirely new kingdoms, religions and characters are summoned into existence. They’re all human, however. 

When you’re putting together your new world, you can pick between historical or random cultures, and it looks like that’s all. Keep clicking, however, even if it looks like you’re just seeing the same two options, and eventually you’ll find the easter egg. I say eventually, but really it’s just a few more clicks. Et voila! A world populated by aristocratic beasites, as well as humans living alongside them. 

As King Darkwing, I ruled a large—but not the largest—kingdom of waterfowl in what is, in our reality, Central Europe. Things were a little tense for a while since my neighbour was a Holy Roman Empire analogue that was ruled by dragons. I didn’t fancy my chances in a war, so I married off my daughter, also a duck, to a scaly duke. There was a bit of strife within the kingdom itself, too, because it turns out that not all ducks follow the same religion.

Most the ducks, myself included, logically worshipped The Sky and followed the rules from The Books of Blessed Virtues, but there were also some loons who worshipped The Moon, of all things, and had their own holy text, The Hallowed Manuscript. I’m in the process of explaining why they are wrong and we are right. Mostly with swords. All of these religions are randomly generated. 

So Crusader Kings 2 is Redwall now, I guess. I love it. 

Holy Fury is due out on November 13. 

Crusader Kings 2’s largest expansion, Holy Fury, is due out next week, but in the meantime you can wet your whistle on this feature breakdown from Paradox. There’s quite a lot, and while the focus is on Christian and pagan shenanigans, there’s also plenty beyond that.

Pagans can join warrior lodges and work their way up the ladder to become top dog, gaining new skills and pals along the way. Pious Catholics, on the other hand, can be given sainthoods, passing along perks to their descendants. There are legendary bloodlines, new crusading events, coronations, new succession laws and dozens of other things, but it’s the additional modes that I’ve got my eye on. 

By starting a new game with a ‘shattered world’, you’ll experience a more balanced version of Crusader Kings 2, where all the big kingdoms and empires have been broken apart. Everyone starts out as either a count or a duke. Its customisable, too, so you can choose whether you want to play a more historical version or make balance the priority. 

The asymmetry is one of my favourite parts of CK2, but it would be fascinating to start on a world where everyone’s in a similar, though obviously not identical, footing. It sets up some potentially bizarre alternate histories. 

Picking a ‘randomise world’ feature keeps the geography the same, but changes everything else, transforming the medieval world into a fictional realm that's full of new religions, cultures and characters. Paradox says that these random worlds will still try to emulate history, however, mimicking great empires and the like. The world it creates will be fictional, but hopefully logical. 

Crusader Kings 2: Holy Fury is due out on Steam on November 13.

Crusader Kings 2's Pagan-themed Holy Fury DLC will be out on November 13, Paradox has announced.

The expansion, first revealed back in May, is beefier than past DLCs, and covers a range of systems. The biggest changes are reserved for Paganism: Pagan leaders that don't convert can instead reform their religion, leading it down a path of either destruction and war or peace and tranquility. 

You can join a Pagan "warrior lodge" and raid your way to higher ranks, unlocking more powerful allies and gaining military skill, while Pagan successions will now be referred to an Elder Council who decide how to divvy up a realm among heirs. Alternatively—and this sounds far more fun—a ruler may challenge his brother to combat to unify a realm.

There are changes to other religions, too: Catholic leaders can become saints, granting benefits to their descendants, and the clergy now has to bless coronations of Kings and Emperors. 

Away from religion, Holy Fury will add new randomly-generated starter maps that are small and fractured, with lots of factions vying for control—you'll start as a small realm fighting for space. 

It will also add diplomatic options, letting you charm or provoke neighbours, as well as new "legendary bloodlines", which means that descendants of warriors like Charlemagne and Genghis Khan will carry traits that match the accomplishments of their forefathers. 

The Steam page gives a good overview of the rest of the changes, if you're after more information. It'll cost £15.49/$19.99.

Thanks, RPS.

This diary was originally serialised in PC Gamer issues 318, 319, and 320. For more quality articles about all things PC gaming, you can subscribe now in the UK and the US. 

As much as I’ve enjoyed Crusader Kings II over the years, I’m still not good at it. Sure, I can embroil myself in drama and intrigue just as well as the next aristocrat, but when it comes to ambition—to expanding my kingdom and crushing my enemies—it almost always goes wrong. To counter this failing, I’ve devised a new strategy: don’t play Crusader Kings II. 

At least, don’t play it directly. Instead, I’m going to pick a character and use the ‘observe’ console command to hand them over to the AI. Then, as the computer does all the heavy lifting, I’ll offer support in the form of other console commands. There’s a lot I can do here: give characters gold, prestige and piety, add or remove traits and even set lovers or rivals. I can also murder people with the ‘kill’ command. I decide against using this latter option—it’s a little too powerful, even for someone setting themselves up with godlike powers. 

I load up the game, enabling all DLC packs (thanks Steam sales!) save for Sunset Invasion—an alternate history pack that imagines what would happen if Aztecs crossed into Europe to destroy your save file. I opt for a traditional 1066 start, and begin hunting for a character to adopt. I figure a duke would make for the best ward—I want to see if, with the right prodding, they’ll make a play for the throne. While absentmindedly clicking around the de jure duchies map, I stumble upon Matilda di Canossa, Duchess of Tuscany. 

Matilda holds a chunk of central Italy, and also has vassals overseeing Corsica, Lucca and Cinarca. She’s also young and has small family—hopefully ensuring a life free of jealous siblings. And if she’s feeling ambitious, Matilda’s liege is Kaiser Heinrich IV of the Holy Roman Empire.

My little spy

First, though, Matilda needs to get her house in order. She’s popular among her vassals, which is good, but her advisors leave much to be desired. Her Spymaster in particular is deemed an incompetent schemer by Crusader Kings II’s rating system. Luckily, I can help with this. Using the console, I upgrade the key attribute of each member of Matilda’s court. Then I raise all of Matilda’s stats, and give her a boost to money, prestige and piety. 

I unpause, and Matilda’s treasury immediately empties. I soon see why, as armies start marching out from her provinces. Some troops head north, joining Kaiser Heinrich’s war with France over the county of Zeeland. But Matilda has also started a war of her own to convince the Count of Gallura to become her vassal, thus extending her territory into Sardinia. A 4,767-strong army begins a siege of Gallura’s towns and castles. This will not be a long war.

While waiting for the wars to end, I notice Matilda has gained some life goals. The first is to marry a ruler. “The ambitious Duchess Matilda thinks that marrying a ruler would be an excellent way to climb the social ladder,” the game explains. My hope is that Matilda’s AI brain will have the good sense to marry matrilineally, thus retaining her title and status rather than handing it off to some rando dude. Matilda has also launched a plot to kill her Marshal, Count Anselmo di Lucca. I’m not sure what the point of this is—perhaps murder is one of her hobbies? 

The war against the Count of Gallura is won in January 1068, with Matilda adding another vassal to her court. Things settle down soon after—in May, Matilda throws a fair, which, thanks to me further boosting her coffers, should be lavish. In June, it’s revealed that Matilda is pregnant. Thanks to the debug info I’ve enabled, I can see that the father is Matilda’s Court Chaplain, Bishop Lealdo. And look, I’m not here to judge. All I’ll say is that Lealdo’s ambition is to become a paragon of virtue so it seems like he’s got a ways to go. 

Rather than let pregnancy slow her down, in October 1068, Matilda starts another war to vassalise yet another Sardinian count. This time she takes command of a 7,493-strong army, leaving behind another 3,000 troops to defend the mainland. In December, she gives birth to Ermenegilda di Florenz, presumably on the battlefield. 

The endgame of Matilda’s vassalisation wars comes the next year, when in December 1069, at the age of 23, she declares herself the Queen of Sardinia and Corsica. And yet none of her stated aims have been fulfilled. She’s unmarried—a problem, because her illegitimate daughter can’t inherit her title, meaning everything would pass to Kaiser Heinrich in the event of Matilda’s death. 

She also still hasn’t murdered Count Anselmo of Lucca. A little digging has revealed that Matilda is the heir to the county of Lucca, but also that Anselmo has been abusing his position of Marshal—both possible reasons why she wants him dead. I think I can help with this. While my self-imposed rule prevents me from killing Anselmo myself, I still left myself some loopholes in case such a situation arose.

I find Matilda’s Spymaster, and… wait, why is he an idiot? I specifically made him a masterful schemer to counter any potential assassination attempts. I check Crusader King’s II’s character database, search through Matilda’s realm, and realise what went wrong. At some point, she decided to fire the man I transformed into a genius plotter, and replaced him with the Count of Gallura, a man with no intrigue whom she once declared war on. This is, I feel, a bold choice. It’s certainly not one I’d have made had I been in control. Still, this is the bed I have made, and now I’d better fix it before the legs fall off.

Everything is permitted

Firstly, I restore the original Spymaster’s original intrigue score so it’s back to pretty much nothing. He was annoyed at Matilda for firing him, and that’s just an assassination waiting to happen. Then, I raise the Count of Gallura’s intrigue, remove some of his more erratic traits, and add positive traits that match some of Matilda’s own—raising his opinion of her due to their shared outlook. When I’m finished I have a new master Spymaster who’s happy to overlook all of that war business from a few years before. 

Finally, I use the ‘murder’ command. No, don’t look at me like that. The console’s ‘murder’ command is very different to the ‘kill’ command. The latter simply makes your target be dead. The former requires you specify a murderer who will attempt to kill the target. That means there’s a chance the murder will fail—although given that I’m asking Matilda’s new master assassin the Count of Gallura to murder the oblivious and corrupt Anselmo, it seems unlikely. Sure enough, Anselmo is killed, and one of Matilda’s primary aims has been achieved. 

Over the next few months, Matilda starts to consolidate the Sardinian part of Sardinia and Corsica. The Counts of Torres and Arborea join the kingdom peacefully, and the Sardinian island is handed over to Duke Constantino. The only holdout is Cagliari, on the southern tip of the island. It’s owned by Abd-al’Haqq, a revolter who broke off from the Zirid Sultanate. He’s now fighting a war on three fronts—one of which is against the entire Holy Roman Empire. 

While the Empire and Sultanate do their thing, Matilda launches a war of her own—as seems to be her wont. This time she’s fighting to make Count Jordan of Capua her vassal. This is notable for being the first major war she’s waged on the Italian mainland. With Corsica and Sardinia almost entirely under her heel, is she now making a play for Italy itself? 

Unfortunately, the war isn’t going well. Not because of a lack of troops—Matilda’s leading a 12,000 stack against Jordan’s 1,106 troops. The problem is her army has camped out in Spoleto for some reason, while Jordan gets on with attacking Florenz. This is incredibly frustrating. Matilda’s army just sits there doing nothing as the Warscore tips in Jordan’s favour. 

Using the ‘play’ command to take direct control of Matilda’s army is clearly cheating, so I just have to let things play out. Almost out of desperation, I give her the Brilliant Strategist trait, although I’m pretty sure that’s not going to do anything. Sure enough it doesn’t. Luckily for Matilda, someone else takes action instead. The neighbouring Serene Doge Tedice of Pisa sends an army in to Florenz, not to fight Jordan himself, but rather the bit of his army on loan from the Queen of Croatia. It turns out that Jordan’s late wife was the 11-year-old queen’s mother, and so the two are allies of a sort. 

With the reinforcements driven back, Jordan doesn’t have enough troops to siege Florenz. Matilda still doesn’t attack, but a stupid stalemate seems to become the new status quo. While I’ve been focused on this dumb conflict, it seems a few other things have been going on. Matilda has been made High Almoner of the Holy Roman Empire by the new Kaiser, Ordulf ‘the Drunkard’. On the subject of nicknames, the 29-yearold Matilda is known as ‘the Confessor’—perhaps because of the bishop tryst? 

In early 1076, Matilda marries King Shabsai. He has no relatives and no claims to land. Also, the two despise each other, in part because Matilda is now pregnant with the child of the Duke of Corsico. Despite their mutual hatred, Shabsai seems harmless, meaning there’s only a 50% chance of me asking the Count of Gallera to murder him.

Revolting behaviour

In September 1077, things take a dramatic turn. Matilda joins with the former Prince-Archbishop Giovanni-Enrico and launches the Holy Roman Revolt against Kaiser Ordulf. Supporting this is a handful of counts and dukes. Even with Matilda’s giant army, I don’t like their chances. 

I intervene, first changing the opinion of Ordulf’s vassals against him. This doesn’t take long: he’s disliked by most people. Then, I figure I might as well go the whole way, and deliver Ordulf to Matilda’s prison. This is the final straw. The revolt’s armies were already holding their own, but with the leader of the Holy Roman Empire behind lock and key, the war is won. As a result, the Queen of Sardinia and Corsica secedes from the empire, gaining full independence. What happens next will be interesting: the Empire still exists, and it’s not at all happy with Matilda. But for now, things are going well. 

Matilda di Canossa—the real one—had a fascinating life. By the age of 31, the Margravine of Tuscany had survived (and was even rumoured to have ordered) the assassination of her first husband, Godfrey the Hunchback, whom she despised. In 1077, King Henry IV of the Holy Roman Empire stood barefoot in the snow outside her castle for three days, seeking penance from the Pope, whom she was protecting. Over the decades, she would rebel against Henry many times, and even secure military victories against his armies.

My Matilda di Canossa—the Crusader Kings II one—is essentially a turbocharged version of her historical counterpart. She’s the Queen of Sardinia and Corsica (a kingdom that also comprises her original Italian duchy), and, at the age of 31, seceded from the Holy Roman Empire after a war against its new ruler, Kaiser Ordulf the Drunkard, who currently lives in her dungeons. This was all possible because I’m not actually playing Crusader Kings II. Instead, Matilda is being controlled by the AI. I’m just providing support—money, stat boosts, traits and the occasional assassination plot—via console commands. 

Right now, Matilda’s biggest problem—other than having pissed off the map’s second largest military power—is her lack of an heir. Matilda has three bastard children, but none with her husband, King Shabsai. This isn’t likely to change anytime soon, mostly because Matilda recently confessed to a fling with her lover, Duke Oberto of Corsica. As a result, Matilda and Shabsai now hate each other. And look, I don’t want to make it sound like every problem can be solved by a murder, but I think this problem can be solved by a murder. 

Thanks to a console command, Duke Oberto suddenly decides he wants to kill the King. Unfortunately he’s an incompetent schemer, and so I’m not particularly surprised when his attempt fails. I spam the ‘murder’ command a couple more times, but Shabsai stubbornly refuses to be killed. Crucially, though, Matilda hasn’t yet arrested Oberto for his inept assassination attempts. I take this as a sign of implicit support, and so raise Oberto’s intrigue stat and order him to try again.

All in the execution

It fails, but for a good reason. On April 8, 1078, Duke Oberto is finally executed by Matilda. I’m surprised by her change of heart, at least until I discover that Matilda has harboured a grudge against Oberto since he insulted her and denounced their child. This was probably not his smartest decision, especially when followed by the many, many murder attempts. Matilda immediately takes Duke Tiziano of Spoleto as her new lover, and I decide to abandon my role as the medieval world’s worst marriage counselor. 

I’m distracted in part by a war. Matilda is moving against Serene Doge Gentile of Pisa. The previous Serene Doge was Matilda’s key ally in her war of secession. But Matilda’s desire for land has eclipsed any loyalty she might feel to the region. Gentile has an eighth of the troops of Matilda. It’s a bloodbath, and the county of Piombino is quickly added to her growing borders. I’m pleased by this expansion. My worry was that, having achieved independence, Matilda’s war machine would slow down. That doesn’t seem to be the case.

On April 7, 1079, Matilda embarks on an antipapal war against the Holy Roman Empire. The Empire, for whatever reason, has established Anastasius V ‘the Ill-Ruler’ as an antipope, attempting to undermine the Vatican and Anastasius IV, the actual Pope. This doesn’t sit well with Matilda, who remains an adamant fan of Popes—both in actual history, where it’s thought she had affairs with both Pope Gregory VII and Pope Urban II, and in Crusader Kings II, where she’s decided to launch an inadvisable war on behalf of the Vatican. 

Matilda’s beaten the Holy Roman Empire before, of course, but here she’s also dealing with a large peasant revolt in Brescia, her northernmost territory. I briefly worry, until Matilda’s army marches in and crushes the peasants with almost comical ease. In fact, her forces now rival that of the Empire. Rather than meddle, I decide to let things play out. After all, this war isn’t for land or titles; it’s for the honour of a Pope. There are literally no consequences for success or failure. 

The next year is spent watching as two roughly equally sized death balls chase each other around the map—a slow, painful reminder of how irritating Crusader Kings II’s combat can be. By the time the armies do clash, Matilda’s forces have been whittled down by numerous sieges and supply line problems. The Empire wins the battle, but Matilda has done well to cripple key castles and towns. Despite now wielding the smaller force, she’s still winning the war. 

While leading troops in the siege of Cremona, Matilda gives birth to her fourth child. What’s notable about Princess Tomasina is that her father is actually Matilda’s husband. Matilda finally has a legitimate heir to her throne. Matilda and Shabsai still despise each other, but, as Jeff Goldblum once said, life, er, finds a way. I suppose I should apologise to Shabsai for trying to have him killed, and maybe also Duke Oberto for inadvertently causing his execution. At the very least, his death wasn’t in vain: we all learned a valuable lesson about not insulting your lover who is also a queen.

Rock, papal, scissors

The antipapal war drags on for years, but the outcome is never really in doubt. Matilda’s army is seemingly inexhaustible—mostly because I’m paying the tab. And even when her armies do take a battering, the rulers of Hungary and Denmark have also rallied to defend the Pope. Generally speaking, it’s a bad idea to fight a war on two fronts, but here the Holy Roman Empire is being besieged on every side—including the middle, which, for whatever reason, is also a patch of Hungary. 

Team Pope wins and, less than a month later, Matilda’s armies are already marching to another frontline. This time she’s helping to defend the Queen of Croatia from a holy war started by some Croatian duke. I’m not sure why this is happening. The two queens aren’t allies—in fact, many years ago, Queen Neda’s forces moved against Matilda in defence of the Count of Capua. Perhaps a life of dealing with (and romancing and executing) irritable dukes has made Matilda sympathise with anyone who has to deal with their bullshit. 

The war ends quickly—inviting Matilda to settle a civil war is like inviting a nuclear bomb to settle an argument with your neighbour over an unruly wisteria. Peace returns, briefly, and I take a moment to check on Matilda’s court. I discover that King Shabsai—who at some point in the last decade became a renowned physician—has forgiven Matilda for her affair, and actually seems quite fond of his wife. And yet, despite the fact her home must now be a more pleasant place to live, Matilda is suffering from depression. Crusader Kings II represents depression as a trait, meaning I could remove it using a console command. I won’t, though—there’s no major benefit to doing so, and the fact that a character who’s been magically handed everything she wants can still come down with depression feels significant.

Forever a workaholic, Matilda celebrates her 40th birthday by launching into another decade of wars and rapid expansion. She fabricates and presses a claim on Urbino, bolstering her control of central Italy. She also presses Lord Mayor Belo’s claim on Bentone—a city in Nice, far away from her own borders. This feels particularly dickish. King Gentile the Fat of Pisa still owns Nice itself. But this single city is now part of the Kingdom of Sardinia and Corsica.

It’s around this time that Matilda gains the stressed trait, and I’m not surprised. I get antsy every deadline, and my only job is to fill a magazine with whatever the hell this is. But the admin on Matilda’s increasingly fragmented kingdom must be staggering. It’s time for a confession. I’ve been so focused on Matilda’s many wars that I haven’t paid much attention to the surrounding map. At some point over the last few years, another country gained independence from the Holy Roman Empire. That country is Italy, which is now ruled by King Adalberto III the Liberator. I only realise that any of this has happened when Adalberto declares war on Matilda. 

This is a pretty complicated situation, because, as I may have previously mentioned, Matilda’s kingdom is a complete mess. It comprises the islands of Sardinia and Corsica, as you might expect, but also the bulk of central Italy as well as Brescia in the north. (And don’t forget that one city in Nice.) King Adalberto and Matilda’s kingdoms intertwine and wrap around each other in a way that Adalberto doesn’t seem thrilled about. In fact, he appears to take the viewpoint that, as the King of Italy, he is entitled to all of the bits of Sardinia that are actually Italy. 

Unfortunately for him, Matilda is OP. The two leaders have similar sized armies, but Matilda is battle hardened from decades of constant war—war for territory, war for freedom, war for the Pope. She has multiple positive combat traits, and even gains a bonus for fighting during the winter. She quashes Adalberto’s attempt to capture Tuscany with relative ease, and, in doing so, prevents Adalberto from pressing another claim against her for at least a decade. At least that gives me some time to figure out whether or not I should murder him.

With Italy momentarily stalled, Matilda continues to expand her borders—targeting Duke Miquel, formerly a subject of the King of Pisa, who now rules Provence, Nice and a few other French territories as an independent duchy. Matilda’s uses her military might to force the duke to be her vassal—presumably claiming that, hey, her kingdom already owns one of his cities. 

A few things happen in the last few years of Matilda’s 40s, both personal and professional. Her husband dies of natural causes. No, really—it wasn’t me. In the wake of Shabsai’s death, Matilda shifts focus. Where before she was focused on becoming a good steward, and thus a good administrator of her kingdom, now she’s dedicated herself to learning. She builds an observatory. This new direction does little to quell her love of all things papal, and, when the Catholic Crusade on Jerusalem is called in 1093, Matilda heads to Acre. Her Kingdom commits more troops than any other country, and her support proves invaluable to the Crusade. 

The Vatican certainly seem to appreciate the help, which is why, in April 1094, after the Crusade is won, Matilda is gifted the entire kingdom of Jerusalem. And to think she was stressed before. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. The Kingdom of Sardinia and Corsica was only ever hypothetical—a right of conquest granted to James II of Aragon by Pope Boniface VIII in 1297. He wouldn’t get around to conquering Sardinia until almost 30 years later, and he never took Corsica. In this game of Crusader Kings II, however, not only has the kingdom unified, it’s expanded. It was created by an Italian duchess, Matilda di Canossa, in 1069, after she conquered enough of it to declare herself queen. 

In the three decades that followed, Matilda launched into a series of wars, some for new land, others for the Pope and a few seemingly for the hell of it. This all happened because, while Matilda is being controlled by the game’s AI, I’ve been offering assistance in the form of console commands, or ‘cheats’ as they’re more commonly known. The vast bulk of this assistance has been cash and assassination plots, keeping Matilda’s soldiers well paid and fed, and her enemies betrayed by their closest allies. 

As I resume the campaign, the Kingdom of Sardinia and Corsica has undergone a massive expansion. It had already consumed a good chunk of Italy—putting Matilda in conflict with its new king, Adalberto III—and a small corner of France. Then, in April, 1094, the Pope gifted Matilda the entire Kingdom of Jerusalem in recognition for her help during the last Crusade. It’s in moments like this that I’m glad I’m letting the AI play for me. Matilda is now holding the titles to 51 parcels of land, which is not the done thing in the feudal system. Those will have to be distributed among various minor lords, and, frankly, that sounds like a lot of tedious admin.

For god's sake

The computer neatly hands out the excess titles and then goes back to immediately and recklessly starting wars. I’m just going to say it: letting Matilda loose in the Middle East was a mistake. She’s now free to declare Holy War on basically anyone she wants, and has set her sights on the entirety of Arabia. I worry that she’s finally bitten off more than she can chew. On the one hand, her army is massive. On the other, they’re very tired. The bulk of her force is coming from Italy, which means her soldiers are forced to trek through Croatia and across the entire Byzantine Empire just to reach Jerusalem. Many die on the way. 

The time it takes for the survivors to arrive gives Caliph Amr—a ten-year-old child and ruler of the Fatimid Sultanate—an early lead. It’s not enough. Resupplying in Jerusalem, Matilda’s forces get to work, steamrolling through Amr’s smaller, more spread out armies. Soon, though, the warscore tips back in Amr’s favour. That’s when I realise he’s sent a force of his own to Italy. It seems we’ve got ourselves a base race.

Matilda seems to be making better use of her armies—she’s fought enough battles to be able to outwit a ten-year-old—but Amr keeps reinforcing. Soon he’s gathered a force roughly equal to Matilda’s own, that trails after her army retaking any castles and cities that she sieges. The outcome is never really in doubt, but the war drags on regardless. By the time Matilda finally wins, Amr has turned 16. Arabia is added to the growing borders of Sardinia and Corsica. 

This is yet another sizeable expansion, one that’s a step too far for some people’s liking. Matilda’s European neighbours establish a defensive pact against her—committing to come to one another’s aid if she ever attacks them. Which, to be honest, is fair enough. She has attacked a lot of people. The pact consists of the new head of the Vatican, Pope Victor III ‘the Holy’, Queen Ekaterina ‘Daughter of the Devil’ of Croatia, Duke Miroslav ‘the Evil’ of Duklja, and Serene Doge Vitale II of Venice. And, look, guys, maybe work on your branding a bit, because you’re sending some very mixed signals right now. 

I’ve played nicely with Rome up until now, but this latest unholy alliance has persuaded me to do something catastrophically stupid. To explain: you can’t just start a war for territory in Crusader Kings II. First, you need a reason. For Matilda right now, the reason tends to just be ‘infidels’, followed by a shrug and a new chunk of the Middle East. But in Europe you need a claim. For many decades now, Matilda’s Chancellor has been attempting to fabricate a claim to Rome. He hasn’t succeeded, either because he’s meeting resistance, or because Matilda keeps changing her mind. I’m going to force the issue.

Fad dietrich

Using the console, I fabricate a strong claim on Rome. I can’t force Matilda to use it, but it’s there if she needs it. I’m intrigued to see what she’ll do. She’s been pro-Pope throughout her rule. Will the defensive pact and her insatiable ambition overrule that instinct? It seems as if it won’t. She launches a war, but not against the Vatican. Rather, she’s going after the Holy Roman Empire in a war to have its ruler, Kaiser Dietrich, excommunicated. 

Matilda wins, Dietrich is excommunicated, and a new ruler takes charge of the HRE. Thus, as in pretty much every Papal war Matilda has fought, nothing of note was achieved. Matilda’s army took minimal losses, which is fortunate as the King of Italy is back for a second round. He’s still in a bit of a strop over all of the bits of Italy that Matilda owns, and hopes he can use the distraction of her war against the Holy Roman Empire to sneak away with Tuscany. It doesn’t work. King Adalberto is repelled—sent away to lick his wounds for another ten years. 

The war isn’t without casualties, though. On September 15, 1101, at the age of 55, Matilda is killed in battle by Bishop Tommaso of Pinerolo. Setting aside what a tragedy this is for the Kingdom of Sardinia and Corsica as a whole, I’ll just note that it’s entirely fitting given her love of war, the Church and wars for the Church that she was killed in a battle with some bishop. 

As Matilda’s daughter, the 22-year-old Tomasina, ascends to the throne, I step in to help quash an uprising in Arabia by using the console to throw its leader in jail. Things probably aren’t great for the peasants of that remote branch of the Kingdom, but it’s Tomasina’s first day on the job and she’s got a funeral to arrange and a war against the Italians to finish. Frankly, this is not the time. 

If anything, Tomasina’s life is even more remarkable than her mother’s. But her first few years are difficult. Remember Amr of the Fatimid Sultanate? It turns out he died in battle at the age of 21. I know this because it’s his brother, Caliph Ashraf, who declares the war to reclaim Jerusalem. Amazingly, he wins. Ashraf is a far better tactician than his brother, and has used these past two decades to train a sizeable army. Tomasina, meanwhile, not only isn’t as battle hardened as her mother, but isn’t as beloved by her vassals, meaning she has access to fewer troops overall. She does technically still have the title of Queen of Jerusalem, but it’s hypothetical—a right of conquest granted by a Pope.

Tomasina spends the next few decades acquiring and then losing various bits of the Muslim world. She gains Kabylia in North Africa and even, for seemingly no reason, goes to war against the Jyadid Emirate for control of Denia in Spain. I know it can be hard to follow in your parents’ footsteps what with the inevitable unfair comparisons, but I do feel Matilda had a better grasp of the difficulties of creating such a spread out empire. Sure, there was the Jerusalem thing, but that was the Pope’s fault. And I guess there was also Provence and Nice… OK, fine. This whole family is hopeless at geography. 

Despite—or maybe because of—the constant warring against Muslim-ruled nations, Tomasina becomes sympathetic to Islam. And yet, she’s also a dutiful Catholic, and so in 1131, at the age of 50, she launches herself with gusto when a new Crusade is called. She’s so gung-ho about the business that, as with her mother before her, she’s gifted Jerusalem. The Kingdom of Sardinia and Corsica is now larger than it’s ever been. Tomasina gains the stressed trait.

Doting dohtor

Soon after, despite over 30 years of marriage, Tomasina announces that—as with most of her siblings—she’s gay. Her lover is Sifflæd Edmundsdohtor, an otherwise unremarkable courtier of Count Clemence of Cornwall. I guess they met during the Crusade? How romantic. Later, at the age of 63, Tomasina gains the possessed trait—making her prone to “frequent violent episodes, speaking in tongues, spitting and assaulting those nearby”. Despite this, and the accompanying reversal of faith that results, she still never presses her mother’s claim on Rome. This family really loves their popes. 

It’s a tragic end for Sardinia and Corsica’s second queen. Tomasina’s rule is long, but much of it is spent defending the kingdom’s territory. When she isn’t fighting her own wars, she joins the King of France to help fight his. In her final years, Tomasina grows crueller, her Cornish lover dies, and the Fatimid Sultanate once again reclaims Jerusalem. In response she launches a war for control of the Hijaz region—a huge area southeast of Arabia. She never sees it finished. Tomasina dies of "depression" in 1154, age 74.

For the first time in its history, the Kingdom of Sardinia and Corsica is to be ruled by a king—Tomasina’s son, King Rainero ‘the Ill-Ruler’. He’s a dunce—wrathful, slothful and a drunkard (and stressed, of course). Despite my help, it takes him nine years to finish his mother’s war at which point the entire kingdom decides that it’s had enough of his incompetence and rises up to depose him. Say what you will about the cruel, possibly possessed Tomasina, but she got shit done. At least, she did when she wasn’t off organising secret trysts with her distant Cornish mistress. 

For the stability of the kingdom, I throw Rainero in jail. The revolutionaries win their war, and Rainero is deposed. His daughter, Antonia, takes the throne in his place. She’s young and full of promise—charitable, gregarious and erudite. Less than a year into her rule, she’s called into a Crusade on Aquitaine, currently owned by the Almovarid Sultanate. Sardinia and Corsica once again leads the charge, and once again is gifted a big new chunk of land. Long live the new queen, same as the old ones.

The outgoing CEO of Paradox Interactive Fred Wester has said the publisher will "probably" make a sequel to sprawling grand strategy game Crusader Kings 2, which he feels is becoming too "crowded" for more expansions.

Paradox has released regular expansions for Crusader Kings 2 since it came out in 2012, and the next, Holy Fury, is due later this year. Wester—who will move to a different role at the publisher next week and be replaced by Ebba Ljungerud—says that the game is beginning to feel "heavy", and can't be expanded much more. Therefore, a sequel is likely, he says—but it doesn't sound like it's being worked on just yet.

"We will probably do it at some point," he explained to gameindustry.biz in a interview in May, which was published yesterday. "The reason for that is the technical depth that we have in Crusader Kings 2. We can't add much more to the game as it is now. The map is really big, there's so much content in there. It wasn't really built for all of the expansions we made. 

"It's getting heavy. We might need to take the etch-a-sketch, shake it a little bit, and start over." 

He also hinted that Paradox may take "a bigger stab at RPGs" going forward, potentially with the White Wolf, World of Darkness, and Vampire: The Masquerade licences it bought in 2015. A Vampire: The Masquerade tabletop RPG came out this week, and it sounds like we can expect more soon, with "a couple of projects that are at more than an experimental level right now". 

"People ask us why it's taking such a long time to do anything with the White Wolf stuff. And, well, we want to do things the proper way this time," Wester said.

He added that the company will try to update its games more regularly with in-game events in future. "We need to be even better about working on a weekly basis—like, what's happening this week? Not necessarily something people pay for, but events within the week and things that have just happened in the game."

Crusader Kings, everyone’s favorite medieval dating, plague, and war simulator, is coming to the tabletop. This past weekend at PDXCon in Stockholm, as Paradox announced their suite of licensed board games, I had a chance to sit down with a few of the game’s designers from Free League publishing and play some rounds of Crusader Kings. It’s a narrative-focused strategic game that stays very close to the roots of the franchise as, in the publisher’s own words, a “medieval strategy soap opera.” Tomas Härenstram, leader of the game’s design team at Free League, used to work on the Crusader Kings team at Paradox and emphasized his love for the game. The design process for the game started last year with a wide range of designs and culminated this year in the current Kickstarter.

If you’re not familiar with reading previews of board games, know that mechanics can change significantly between a preview and a game’s publish date. Though Crusader Kings was in a very finished state small details were still up in the air, as were some major things like precisely how many victory points were awarded for various game goals.

Each player takes on the role of a dynasty ruling large swathes of the medieval world. Norman British, German, French, Italian, and Spanish dynasties were all in the game, though which appeared was based on player count and scenario chosen. To win, players conquer territory from each other, expand their family line, build their kingdom, and send family members on crusades. The most interesting mechanic in the game is definitely its resolution system—used for everything from military conquest to wooing spouses. It’s based on your family’s overall behavioral traits, something very familiar to players of the PC game. 

Every character that pops up in the game is given a random trait. Either positive or negative, these are things like Cruel, Pious, Kind, or Lustful. As rulers lead their lives or come into power, these traits are added to a bag, and when you need to resolve something traits are drawn from the bag. A positive trait is a success, negative a failure. Some traits are critical to a task and give you benefits if drawn—Cruel is a negative trait, but when drawn in war or crusading, it’s a success. This means that like in the video game, constructing your dynasty out of the most ideal members is key to success. A few too many imbeciles on the throne means you’re saddled with bad odds of success for the whole game, but marrying them to Clever and Strong spouses will balance the bad blood out. Of course, money solves lots of problems, and money could always be spent to get extra draws from the bag. 

Like the video game, much of Crusader Kings was about diplomacy, bartering, and alliances. Nearly anything in the game was up for trade, so you could easily do something like trade your court doctor to another ruler for a favorable marriage or pay a rival to assassinate your Imbecile child and prevent him from inheriting the throne. That said, there were key limits on diplomacy. You have to have a casus belli to declare war against other players, and once started a war is hard to stop. Marrying your children into other dynasties also gave you a pact with them, meaning you could support each other in wars against a third party.

Each generation of the game you draw a number of cards, each corresponding to an action type like Crusade, Tax, Build, Plot, or Levy. Those cards are then played, two at a time, in a series of rounds. Each action type lets you do a few things within a specific framework—Levy cards, for example, let you either raise new troops or direct existing troops in attacks. Cards also have an event on them, something like a plague in your lands or a child for your opponent’s dynasty. Picking your action for the turn is as much about your own strategy as trying to avoid bad events or not hand advantages to your opponents.

Much of the game is tied up in these events, and what strategies you have available is often up to events played by your opponent over which you have no control. Children, for example, come entirely from these cards. This is very much the way in which Crusader Kings is not a traditional area control wargame—those who want a symmetrically balance tactical experience might not enjoy the heavily narrative way that these events skew the game. 

That said, it’s very much the kind of story engine that fans of Crusader Kings on PC will enjoy. In just a handful of plays of the game I’d seen the kinds of stories that you play dozens of hours of the PC game for. I saw a king of England assassinated and married off three awful daughters to make room for a useful heir in my crowded house. Another player repeatedly sent off his Imbecile son to die in the crusades, only to see the son flourish and succeed time and time again. 

Overall, Crusader Kings felt like a game that was true to the PC legacy while shedding the more onerous simulation of a grand strategy experience for a sleeker form. Unlike similar tabletop games such as Fief or Warlords of Europe, it’s more about a strong narrative and less about chucking handfuls of dice. Crusader Kings is on Kickstarter now from Free League publishing. It’s due to ship to backers in late 2018 before a broader retail release in early 2019. 

Crusader Kings 2 is to this day one of Paradox's most popular grand strategy games. Since launch in 2012 it has received 24 paid DLC packs with a variety of expansions, unit bundles and customisation features. If you buy all of them alongside the CK2 base game, it costs over $300 in total.

At PDXCon 2018, I suggest to incoming CEO Ebba Ljungerud and business development VP Shams Jorjani that the developer's long-term DLC model has scope to overwhelm new players.  

"We want to make really great games for the customer, and that's the outlook," explains Ljungerud. "We're not going to be able to do that if we can't charge something for the development of the games. That's the base of it. You can then discuss margins and this and that, but if we don't make money we're not going to make the game. That's where we're coming from. For us, it's not so strange that we actually charge people for content and better improvements of the game. 

"With Crusader Kings 2, you could say, yeah, it's a lot of money over the years—but it's also a game with a lot of hours and a lot of gameplay within it. So, I can't say that I think it's wrong for charging for the development of the games."

Jorjani interjects: "I argue: go out and find any other game that can offer you this many hours of gameplay at the base cost and never [require] any more DLC. If you're not a religious Paradox player and you've never encountered our games, and just buy vanilla, I think we're in the top one percent in the industry, in terms of value that we provide back. Green Man Gaming now puts in a value that tells you the amount of hours and money spent. There was a big discussion [on social media] about how terrible this is. But I love it!"On the other hand, we're pretty… not bad, but there's room for improvement in how we present our DLC. We have to deal with the issue of people being conditioned by other games and how the industry works. The conditioning is: if you don't get all the content, the thing is broken, you're missing out on something. Which is not true in our games."

Jorjani says Paradox must better present the surplus post-launch expansions its games offer, so as to avoid inundating players with DLC. Jorjani adds that it's easy to deride "fucking more DLC" in 280 characters, than it is to have sensible conversations about what you like and dislike—and that the premium business model is nevertheless shrinking. Conversely, free-to-play practices are growing.   

"If I'd gone to Henrik [Fåhraeus] and said in 2018 we're going to have $300-worth of DLC, he would've smacked me across the face," Jorjani adds. "So, today I can walk in and have $30,000-worth of content to sell in six years and people don't smack me. Because if we look at what's going on in the industry as a whole, the premium business model is shrinking. That part of the industry is shrinking. That doesn't mean you can't thrive and grow, but as a whole, our focus as a company is growing. What's growing is free-to-play. 

"Our games perhaps don't transfer over that well over to free-to-play. So, the interesting [question] is: what is the convergence point that we see in hybrid models, where there is a premium starting price point, but there are other ways to charge for content without upsetting everyone? That's the real challenge for us in the next five to ten years—and how we present that." 

"God or the Sword?" asks Crusader Kings 2's latest DLC. Named Holy Fury, it's one of the medieval grand strategy 'em up's most sophisticated expansions—this time drawing inspiration from the Northern Crusaders of Catholic Europe against their Pagan neighbours. 

"In Holy Fury, Pagan rulers who reform their religion instead of converting will have a chance to design that new Reformed Paganism," explains Paradox—who unveiled Holy Fury on stage at PDXCON 2018 today. "A religion of peace or one of war? Will you be guided by the stars or bow to the whims of bloodthirsty gods? Who will lead this new church? Build a new creed on the ashes of the old ways."

Here's an announcement trailer:

And while it may not be immediately clear there, Holy Fury promises Pagan 'warrior lodges' that let players raid their way up the ranks, unlocking powerful allies as they go. It lets players leverage Legendary Bloodlines to their advantage; and allows Pias Catholics to become canonised, in turn passing their glory onto their descendants. Moreover, new succession laws alter how realms are unified. 

Crusader Kings 2: Holy Fury is due later this year, and asks for a $19.99 donation for its collection basket. Like all CK2 expansions, the DLC will land alongside a comprehensive free update available for all players. More information is expected in the coming weeks.  

The greatest hybrid of strategy and roleplaying games ever developed for me, Crusader Kings 2 is a juggernaut of the last decade of PC gaming. It allows players to step into the shoes of a broad range of medieval characters across several continents while wooing, marrying, assassinating, and warring their way to kingships, empires, and—inevitably—grave misfortunes. After six years of iterative development, its panoply of expansions and content packs make it a treasure trove of medievalist miseries. 

Though people enjoy CK2 for many different reasons, there are common threads of enjoyment found across its broad spectrum of players. People like to shepherd their family of nobles, grow attached to the best of them, and tell the tales of how they met their end. People like to develop their little corner of Europe, build up an army, and ensure the prosperity of their realm. And people love to hate the other families of nobility that surround them—whether it's the kings of the rival kingdom or the other baron just across the river. It's the random surprises, the unforeseen events, and the secret plotting that make CK2 such a thrill ride of a game. An inconvenient death to plague can set your plans back generations—but that’s part of the fun.

There’s a board game that scratches all the same itches. It was made in the late '80s as Fief, and restored recently by Academy Games and Asyncron as Fief: France 1429. It’s a wargame with strategic economic elements and extensive diplomatic negotiation, but what makes it special is its deep reliance on individual characters to accomplish anything in the game.

Fief plants players into some of the great, last gasps of internecine strife in the burgeoning state of France. As the Hundred Years’ War forges the very concept of nationhood in western Europe, you take on the role of a family line of French nobles trying to consolidate power and dominate their country. Conquer baronies and ducal titles for your family, build support in the church by appointing your relatives to bishoprics, and perhaps even claim titles like King or Pope!

Fief is a highly diplomatic game where players are in near-constant communication with those neighboring them. The movement of armies is crucial, with troops mustered on the borders a constant threat to peace and economic security. You’re either reassuring or threatening in turns, telling others you’re securing your interests by amassing forces at one moment and threatening to invade the other. 

Targets of opportunity constantly present themselves, forcing mercenary allegiance over strict friendships—sure, you’ve been peaceful with your neighbor the whole game, but why not take advantage of a far-off war to burn down some mills and cripple their economy? Like in Crusader Kings, true alliances can only be bought via marriages yoking two dynasties together, but also increasing their requirements for victory. Plus, a bad plague, death in combat, or assassination can mean the end of an alliance with a heartbeat if one spouse dies.

Which can, and will, happen. Armies can only move if nobles lead them, which means that you’ll have to risk those carefully accumulated titles and offices in defense of your realm or in pursuit of a larger one. Lords can die in combat or be captured, forcing you to re-evaluate carefully chosen plans. The game is mostly driven by a deck of event cards, surprising you with events like heavy weather forcing armies to a standstill, good harvests increasing tax incomes, or the aforementioned outbreaks of plague. It’s the kind of random chance that makes Crusader Kings 2 so enjoyable, and it’s just as good in Fief.

Fief isn’t perfect. It’s very much a 1980s wargame, imperfectly balanced and reliant on simulationist rules rooted in historical fact. A diplomacy-heavy game means you really balance it yourself. You have to know that if one player gets a series of good tax seasons then other players will have to gang up on the now-wealthy juggernaut. It’s also strongest with a larger player group—the game’s minimum is three players, but it really shines with five or six.

Much like CK2, I’m also going to recommend some of Fief: France 1429’s expansions. Politics adds a layer of personality to your characters, giving them positive and negative traits, as well as hangers-on and courtiers. Tactics adds several more kinds of troops that increase the game’s strategic depth to levels more on par with other tabletop wargames, like Archers, Bombards, and hireable Mercenaries. 

Exciting to me, of course, is that a new edition of the board game from Asyncron looks to be in the offing for later this year, with an altered map encompassing all of France rather than a limited region. It’ll likely make its way to America, so those with limited board game budgets might want to wait for that release before jumping onto the Fief wagon. Others might want to snap both up, if only so they can have more than one map to play on.

Crusader Kings 2 is a medieval grand strategy game that has players vying to establish and expand their kingdoms across multiple generations during a time of great political and military strife. Those who like it, like it a lot, but it's not the most accessible thing ever, which has likely kept quite a number of more casual strategy fans away from it. But for the next 48 hours it's free on Steam, and if you grab it during the giveaway it's yours to keep forever. 

To get it, just click the "Install Game" button, which will register CK2 to your account and begin the install. (The download is about 1 GB, but you can opt to abort the install if you don't want to dive into it right away.) While you're there, you might also take note of the plethora of DLC that's available, all of which is currently on sale for half price except for Jade Dragon, the most recent of the bunch, which brings China to the fight and is 33 percent off. 

Crusader Kings 2 is excellent—we gave it an 87/100 review in 2012 (it's been around that long)—and has also demonstrated remarkable staying power: We shared a rundown of the best CK2 expansions just a couple of weeks ago. And if that (and the fact that it's free) doesn't convince you, consider this:

The Crusader Kings 2 giveaway will end at 10 am PT/1 pm ET on April 7.