|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
“When first they put the name of king upon me, And bade them speak to him: then prophet-like They hail'd him father to a line of kings: Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown, And put a barren sceptre in my gripe,Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand, No son of mine succeeding.”
- Macbeth, Shakespeare
Crusader Kings is the latest creation from Paradox, the developers of the outstanding series of Europa-Universalis-based Grand Strategy games. Having tackled so thoroughly and successfully the Renaissance (Europa Universalis 2), Industrialism and Colonialism (Victoria), and even Global Warfare in the mid 20th Century (Hearts of Iron), it’s almost inevitable that they would turn their attention toward the simulation of Feudalism and Chivalry. Thus we finally have Crusader Kings, a grand strategy game that covers essentially the High Middle Ages, from 1066 (the Battle of Hastings, when William the Conqueror invaded England) through 1453 and the fall of Constantinople to Muslim forces under Mehmed II.
CK has been a long time coming. I recall release dates set well back in 2003, and the forums even occasionally bandied about hopes that it might even be seen in 2002. The guys at Paradox (and their development team at Snowball, also working on CK) have nothing if not a reputation for the breadth and accuracy of their games, so it was evident early on that things might take a little bit longer than expected/hoped. While the EU engine provided a good basic approach to the period, there were so many intrinsic differences both obvious and subtle, I’m guessing that they pretty much had to rip the code down to the studs and rafters and build almost everything anew.
Gameplay in CK is immediately, and in some ways radically different than that of the other EU games. Certainly yes, you are again the guiding spirit of a state managing all the things you think typical to a 4X strategic game. But above all, CK is EU writ small: rather than contemplating the conquest of a continent, or the discovery and colonization of distant shores, you play the role of an actual noble lord in the Middle Ages, with his much-nearer concerns about his neighbors, his liege, and his family. This is not to say that the reduction in scope means any sort of reduction in gameplay for the player. Hardly. Like a medieval miniature, it doesn’t take long to realize that the limited scope of the player’s responsibilities is merely a difference in scale, allowing the player to enjoy the intricacies of the era that would be lost in a game of broader view. Each player’s character is a male noble at one of the three tiers of authority in the game - you can pick any to start. You may play just about any medieval Christian noble, from the lowly count of some tiny backwater province to the King of Germany. Significant actors – the Mongols, the great Merchant Houses, and the Papacy – are not playable, in what I would judge a good decision to keep the gameplay focus sharp on the notions of Chivalry and Feudalism. (To put it bluntly: why play a game with such a gigantically complete Feudal model, if you didn’t want to use it?)
The lowest level of authority is the Count. The map of CK, from Iceland to Northern Africa to the Urals, is divided into more than a thousand counties (1005, according to the province names list in the data files). These counties are far smaller than those of Europa Universalis games, and each ostensibly can have an individual count that sets their laws, runs their economies, manages their populations, and leads their troops. It should be noted that I’m hoping strongly that they implement a popup to help you navigate these provinces before release or in a subsequent patch. With a thousand provinces, when you get popup events declaring something important is happening to/for you in “the Grisons” (for example), it would be very useful to have some way to find it short of pulling the old “Grosser Atlas zuer Weltgeschichte” off the bookshelf.
Equivalent to the count is the Bishop. Basically the same but with logical restrictions on his actions, a Bishop has the possibility of being named Pope.
Dukes (and other titles with similar breadth such as Prince or Archbishop) are the middling tier, and are probably a good place to start when you wade into your first game. They typically control a handful or more counties, either personally and directly, much like a count, or as a liege lord to the count(s) in charge. They therefore have somewhat greater incomes and resources at their disposal.
Finally at the top of the heap (both in terms of power and headaches) are the Kings, usually holding only a few territories as personal demesnes but having a full list of vassals, subvassals, and broad responsibilities for the whole conglomeration.
Every individual – and I’m not just talking player characters here – is detailed with statistics representing their inherent abilities in four categories: Martial, Diplomacy, Intrigue, and Stewardship. Each of these stats can be enhanced by the assignment of individuals from your court pool, essentially a bunch of hangers-on in your palace looking for work or titles. These court-office appointments are important, and worthwhile. You have a monarch who doesn’t know which end of a sword to hold? Find a courtier with a Martial Value of 12 and make him your Marshall. His Martial value is then added to that of the monarch directly, making even a crummy ruler (say a Martial level of 3) into a respectable 15. These courtiers will need to be watched, of course, having a Marshall whose loyalty is suspect can be a distraction if not an outright danger to even the most secure monarch.
Each character in the game also has the potential to have any number of traits, each of which significantly affect the way that character behaves and is accepted. Some are circumstantial; traits that can come and go through game events, random chance, and even through a player’s play style. If you refuse too many peace offers you might see “gruff diplomat” show up; accept the “A Pretty Wench Catches Your Eye” event, and you might gain the trait “lustful” which increases your fertility AND your chance of having bastards, as well as slightly offending your vassals who are “chaste”. Others are physical, like “Hunchback” or “Lisp” which seem to also have a good chance of being hereditary – the kind of simple, realistic detail that I personally can’t get enough of. Finally, some have to do with the background of your character as they grew up such as “Ecclesiastical Education”. If your character has children (and you’d better!), you also have the ability to control (some of) these choices for them, grooming your progeny for future office.
Interestingly for the period, women are not left out of the game. They too are fully as detailed as any of the men, although the inheritance structures will leave them dependent on the men around them to get things accomplished. They can hold just about any court office (except Martial, a realistic touch), and likewise are capable of playing critical roles in inheritance, power, and alliances between states. This is the first game I’ve ever seen where “Bella gerant alii, tu felix Austriae, nube” is actually a playable game tactic, if not a bloody complicated and difficult one.
Diplomatic marriages are a whole game in themselves. In fact, their significance alone highlights a place where CK – lacking the extensive reporting systems found in the other EU games – comes up a tad short. The implications and contexts of various marriage proposals are so incredibly complex that, lacking some sort of AI assistant, there’s really no quick way to measure the ramifications or consequences. If some piddling Count in Hungary wants to marry my King’s second daughter, what does that mean for me? It could be that he’s in the line of royal succession for the throne, and her eldest son could, if the circumstances are right, bind that royal house to my own. Or, I could be losing a marriageable daughter to the meaningless backwoods of Transylvania. Either way, to figure this out takes a bit of time and a fair facility with the various information screens. Hopefully this will be improved either just before release or in a subsequent patch.
If this sounds faintly like a role playing game or some sort of twisted hybrid of “The Sims meets Kingmaker”, I’m not sure that is a bad comparison. The management of the fractious and willful nobility of Europe had a great deal to do with the exercise of personal charisma or an appeal to ego/greed. In the Middle Ages, there was (in most cases) only the vaguest hint of nationalism, and feuds were not affairs between states but rather the intensely personal contests between individuals and the organizations they led.
GAVELKIND: \Gav"el*kind`\, n. [OE. gavelkynde, gavelkende. See {Gavel} tribute, and {Kind}, n.] (O. Eng. Law): A tenure by which land descended from the father to all his sons in equal portions, and the land of a brother, dying without issue, descended equally to his brothers.
Most of the character statistics are self-explanatory, but the Stewardship rating is worth further explanation as it effectively drives the entire Feudal structure. A character’s Stewardship rating determines his or her ability to manage their business. It limits the number of “things” a character can control without suffering significant penalties due to administrative overstretch. Each county a character directly controls counts as a “thing”, meaning that even the most capable characters will not be able to personally control more than a dozen individual provinces. Once an individual’s responsibilities exceed his or her capabilities, they have two choices: either run the demesne at increasing inefficiencies (which is a dead end; eventually, even the most prosperous regions will be bankrupted by too cavalier a regard for your character’s limitations…), or, taking a page from 21st Century business school manuals, they delegate.
Vassals are the ones who work for a lord, called their liege. They will split the tax revenue of the county that they run with their liege, and otherwise manage its business. Once you assign a county to a vassal, he or she then sets the local tax levels, builds advances, marshals their troops, and generally takes that county as their complete responsibility.
But of course the perceptive gamer will note: how does this make anything better? If a ruler can run six “things”, and hands six counties to six vassals, how does that help him? He still is maxed out as far as Stewardship is concerned, and he can’t add anything more? Well, you’re right. Just swapping “directly controlled” counties for vassal-run counties gets you really nothing, and costs you half of your tax revenue. The answer lies in subinfeudation and greater titles. In every case, these vassals of yours can bear vassals of their own – and these vassals don’t count against your control limit. Capture a new province? Give it to one of your more reliable vassals as a reward – he’ll run it, or if his Stewardship is too low, he’ll hand it off in turn. His loyalty will increase and you don’t have to worry about managing it. Of course, there’s a risk: if he becomes disloyal, or dies and his inheritor has loyalties elsewhere than you, that province may suddenly no longer be yours.
In particular situations, you can gain prestige and administrative flexibility by gaining the option to create a title. For example, you can create the Duchy of Silesia by controlling any two of three particular provinces, or create the Kingdom of Lithuania if you own 67% of 19 targets. These are handy ways of consolidating power, handing off the individual counties to trusted retainers but keeping a nice piece of revenue and power for you.
This works for a while, but can become dangerous because such titles also come with a lot of prestige. You can imagine what happens if a vassal with marginal loyalty gains more prestige than his liege?
Note that outright rebellion is not the only danger you face – that’s only the most straightforward possibility. Your nobles each have their own agendas; the petty counts and more powerful dukes may cast covetous eyes at each other’s lands and wealth, or even send assassins against each other (or you, for that matter). At the least, a vassal whose faith in you is flagging will hesitate to deploy their troops on your behalf. Worse still, they might follow their own ‘foreign policy’ and may even manufacture a claim on some county held by an allied king’s vassal – which can make for some complicated politics when they try to snatch & grab for themselves. Your prestige level, their own prestige level, and their inherent loyalty to you: it’s all a complicated and ceaseless dance in which both the music and the dancers change with every birth, marriage, and death.
And this is just your own feudal structure; add the fact that there are at least fifteen to twenty other kings with their own complex dynamic dynastic structures. Each of these are full of individuals who are also constantly maturing, marrying, breeding, and dying – into and out of your family as well. It’s not hard to imagine a situation where an individual may end up having directly contradictory loyalties – precisely like the Middle Ages.
Inheritance is also major aspect of the feudal structure, and you may find your children to be your most reliable allies or not infrequently your most persistent and frustrating foes. Their loyalty is usually higher, but is measured with some variables different to those of other non-related vassals, such as inheritance order. Naturally, it seems an easy decision to strengthen the position of one of your own family, and the odds are good that this will keep the territory safe and friendly. But personal characteristics count; a daughter who is a schemer or a son who is greedy my feel that the opportunities in opposing you are irresistible. There is little that is more frustrating than when you have a second or third son turn against you at some critical juncture, watching a host of rather valuable duchies and counties you thought essentially secure suddenly depart your control. Your children may also be, sad to say, your greatest vulnerability. The Duke of Meissen habitually refused my generous offers of protection (i.e. he saw no point in simply handing me the keys to his Duchy…), but I noticed that third in the line of succession for his ducal title was one of my courtiers (possibly a distant relative…I didn’t really dig into why). Ahead of this were his two minor children. A couple of tragic accidents later, his kids were no longer available to succeed their extremely old father. Three years later, the Duke dies without heirs and the Duchy of Meissen becomes part of Bohemia. It’s some measure of the ‘real’ feeling you get for these characters, that what I did there still nags on my conscience…













