The young daughter of Queen Maria Aleramericci, Isabelle was thrust to the throne of Jerusalem as an infant, her mother having died shortly after she was born. A spirited young girl, she is in need of guidance if she is ever to become a competent monarch.
Jean de Brienne Regent of Jerusalem
Father of Isabelle and consort of the late Queen Maria, Jean was thrust into the regency at the request of the Pope. Jean is a proud old crusader, though years of resisting Muslim aggression with little help from the church has given him a cynical view of the Vatican. After nine years, Jean's health is failing and he has taken to seclusion, leaving the rule of Jerusalem in the hands of the council.
Guerin de Montaigu Grandmaster of the Knights Hospitallars
Known for his brilliant and cunning tactics on the field of battle, Guerin de Monaigu is arguably the most powerful figure in the kingdom, with a sizable host at his command and the lordship of Baalbak and Krak Castle within the Hashishin controlled lands of Archa.
Peter de Montaigu Grandmaster of the Knights Templar
Elder sibling to Guerin de Montaigu, Peter lacks the landed titles of his powerful younger brother, yet he still has a great host at his command. Peter is proud and stubborn but has a strong sense of justice that makes him a popular man in the kingdom.
Balian de Grenier Count of Tyrus
The lord of Tyrus and a masterful head for strategy has made Balian indispensable in the struggle to control Jerusalem from Muslim infidels. Diligent and popular, he is loyal to the council and the Queen.
Jean d'Ibelin Count of Beirut
Ruler of the Beirut stronghold and a keen scholar and statesman. Despite the rumours of sodomy that surround the man, his lordship over Beirut, though despised by the populace, has accrued great profits for his treasury.
Pope Honorius III
Honorius oversaw the Fifth Crusade, first initiated by his predascessor, Pope Innocent III. The Crusade was a disaster, Honorius failing to secure the troops and funds needed to gain victory. Led mainly by the forces of Hungary and Austria, the crusader army was defeated by Egyptian forces, and an uneasy peace between the Ayyubid Caliphate and Europe ensued. Honorius ascended to St. Peter's throne in 1216, and is a native of Rome. Though holding a strong sense of justice, Honorius is known to fear heretical and Muslim conspiracies to weaken the church.
Friedrich II von Hohenstaufen Holy Roman Emperor, King of Italy
Born in Italy, Friedrich is a man of limitless ambition. Viewing himself as a descendant of the Roman emperors of antiquity, Friedrich took the title of Emperor of the Romans at his papal coronation in 1220. From his power base in Italy, where he rose to become King of Sicily before taking power in the greater Holy Roman Empire, Friedrich rules with an iron fist. Pragmatic and unforgiving to his enemies, Friedrich could easily be considered the most powerful man in the world.
Welcome to the interest check/development thread for a proposed forum game that uses the Paradox strategy game Crusader Kings as it's engine, so-to-speak. Centered around Jerusalem in 1221 A.D. players will take the role of Jerusalem's council as they preside over the regency of the young Queen Isabella II. To young to rule, it will be the duty of the council to steer the fate of the beleaguered holy kingdom and protect it from the perils it faces. War, diplomacy, and political intrigue awaits us in the Kingdom of Heaven!
Knowledge of the mechanics of Crusader Kings is strongly recommended for those interested in playing.
Available Roles
Chancellor - the Chancellor of Jerusalem is the kingdom's leading diplomat and chief adviser of matters of state. The chancellor has the ability to improve diplomatic relations, sow dissent in other realms, and fabricate claims in the name of the Queen.
Marshal - Chief military adviser and strategist for the holy armies of Jerusalem. The Marshal has the ability to suppress revolts, train troops, and research military technology.
Steward - Chief financial adviser for the Holy Kingdom. The steward can collect taxes, oversee construction, and research economic technology.
Spymaster - Top advisor in all matters related to then clandestine. The spymaster may be a male or female character, and has the ability to scheme, build spy networks, and study technology in other realms.
Court Chaplain - Leading religious adviser to the Kingdom of Jerusalem. The chaplain may proselytize across the kingdom, research cultural technology and improve religious relations.
Available titles
Players may choose to begin the game with the following titles to flesh out their back stories and raise their overall standing within the kingdom.
Baron/Baroness - ruler of a barony in Jerusalem based within a castle, providing them with military might.
Lord-Mayor - ruler of a city within Jerusalem, providing them with a valuable source of income.
Bishop - ruler of a Bishopric in the kingdom, giving them strong ties to the Vatican.
Commander - An unlanded title but gives the character the ability to lead armies and formulate strategy in the field. (Can be used in conjunction with any of the above landed titles.)
Application:
If you're interested feel free to put forward an application with the following format...
[image/character/family crest/optional]
DoB Origin Council Position
Bio
Those whom I deem most appropriate for the story will be selected to play.
It is easy to see how a culture as decadent the Imperium could have bred such a person as Kaeso Pricisan. Every person of importance on Juno is totally concerned with status and their own perceived beauty, sacrificing everything for the latest fashion, the newest gadget and breakthrough rejuvenation therapies. Priscian had witnesses the most affluent spend their fortunes, squandering their estates and end up losing their entire wealth in their desperate hunt of the fountain of youth. On the bright side, Priscian supposed they made for beautiful homeless.
In Priscian's grand solar, the Consul of the Juno Protectorate studied himself in a hand mirror as he sat at his desk, flanked by golden statutes of himself. No one looked half as good as Priscian. His body was immaculately cleansed, his skin smooth and clean, void of any unsightly body hair and age line.
"You are beautiful," said his smiling reflection.
"You really think so?" Priscian questioned with delight.
"Yes, of course I do. You made a good decision leaving those drab senators and courtiers of New Rome," returned the handsome reflection.
The consul tittered happily. "I am so glad to hear you say that!"
"I'm sorry I ever doubted you."
Priscian set the mirror down gently on the desk, turning around in his magnetic swivel chair to view the large terrace behind him. The balcony gave way to an expansive cityscape, disappearing to the horizon. Thousands of silver towers jut out into the air like sparkling knives. Ships careened through the shipping lanes. His city was quickly growing to cover all the habitable equatorial strip of the continent Jupra.
When Juno was first colonized centuries ago, it's dense atmosphere posed a serious challenge to environmental engineers. After many setbacks, the atmospheric evaporators managed to thin out the dense ozone and smothered stratosphere, and allowed the sun to penetrate the frozen planet. The sprawling ice caps receded, and water flooded the recesses of the planet, forming great oceans. Imported seeds began to sprout and over the centuries, forests spread along the equator, and the colony prospered.
Priscian walked out on the terrace where a stratagist board lay neglected. Its beautifully carved pieces seemed to scream for attention. Priscian's happy face melted away, and he became dour, lost in a memory. He recalled when one of his children defeated him at the game last year. He had been so enraged that he threw him from the balcony, falling eighty-seven stories to his death. The game had been ignored by him ever since, which was a shame. It had been a gift from the late Emperor Nazarirus. Though he wouldn't admit it, Priscian did miss sharp Paulus, though if he had been so sharp, he would have let Priscian win - he should have known better.
Paulus had been among his favourite clones, the product of astounding success in Juno's cloning sector, given that much of the technology was lost following the fracturing of the Imperium. Priscian willed the pang of loss to subside, as well as other unsettling feelings, mainly the implications of a clone defeating him at one of his favourite games.
Pushing the thoughts from his mind, the consul's smile returned as he surveyed the horizon, where shuttles lifted off from a distant hanger, and disappeared in the sky, taking the form of dozens of twinkling lights. Overhead, seeming to be a construct of the clouds as it rested in low orbit, was an immense warship, the bright white sun shining of it's metallic hull. Pride swelled in Priscian as he watched all his busy little bees hard at work, fluttering along to do his bidding. Only a few more days, and the ship would be ready to depart, to squash the last of the Caprica resistance and finally make the Juno Protectorate whole.
Where the last age belonged to the Imperium, Horation was intent on forging an age devoted to his majesty, his magnificence, his utter beauty. Others jostled over the ashes of the former empire, but Priscian would out smart them all... He knows it is his destiny. Priscian beamed happily as he thought of coming into his power.
A chime within his solar took him from his thoughts. "Ah! Dinner!" Priscian clapped his hands excitedly and returned from the balcony.
"Greetings your beautifulness," said one of his children, approaching the consul's desk, a tray in hand. "Dinner is served." He set the tray down atop the desk, whisking away the silver cover to reveal the food within. Priscian breathed deep. "Ahh Ika lichen, one of my favourites!"
Priscian turned from his dinner to take a moment to admire the beauty of his clone, his exact likeness save for the tattoo of a bar=code over his right eye. "You are beautiful."
"Thank you, Your Excellency. I take after my father."
Priscian laughed. "Wait for me at my bedchamber." Ika lichen made for a potent aphrodisiac as well as a delicacy.
While he ate, the consul contemplated his future, and the obstacles before him. The times ahead would be a challenge, and once the dissidents in Protectorate space were dealt with, the next major opponent brewed outer sectors, toward Earth and beyond. He took a spoonful of lichen, swallowing the steamed flora before uttering a word in a contemplative tone...
Type of Government: Oligarchy (Manufactured Democracy)
Leader(s): Kaeso Priscian
Persons of Importance: Governor Appius Aratus, Governor Tobias Rolo, Admiral Gnaeus Viator
Species(s) and Demographics: Predominantly human.
Religion Description and Demographics: A denomination of the imperial religion known as Junoism, where the Goddess Juno (war and beauty), is the central object of worship.
Culture: Junoists have a strong pride in their military and democracy. The society itself can be described as vain, as most tend to strive for superficial beauty, resulting in a booming cosmetics industry. Fashion and decadence reign supreme within the Juno cities, the affluent obsessed with obtaining status symbols to demonstrate their high standing. A large underclass of poor and slaves labour to keep the cogs of the industrialized society going.
History: Juno was colonized by the Solar Confederation early in the 26th century, and terraformed into a picturesque garden world in the 28th century, as the Imperium began it's rise to power. A violent revolt by Imperium supporters overthrew the Confederate government during the war and Juno quickly became an industrial and trade hub of the Terran Imperium. The twelve moons of Juno were soon settled and the leadership of Juno became an influential voice in the Imperium Senate.
In the 40th century, Juno began it's decline. Mineral depletion on it's moons, and the fracking rift on Capria (Juno III), resulted in a steep decline of the Juno economy. More prosperous colonies in the Imperium gained influence over Juno within the senate, and the planet became a shadow of it's former self.
As the Imperium collapse, Juno collapsed into civil war, multiple faction vying for dominance over the decaying colony. After a century of fighting, dissidents surrendered, and pro-Imperium forces claimed victory. Rebels were exiled to the dying moon of Caprica, and out of the ashes of the war, the former Imperium leadership of Juno declared themselves the Juno Protectorate, breaking their ties with Earth.
Since their independence the Protectorate has struggled to obtain their former glory. More aggressive mining operations have begun across the moons, as well as an effort to reclaim Caprica. Neighbouring star systems are coveted for their resource potential and the ego of the Protectorate's consul pines for a new Imperium with Juno at it's core.
Military: WIP
Kaeso Priscian is the established consul of Juno, having lead the planet for two and a half centuries, since before the fall of the Imperium. A man ruled by his own vanity, he believes himself to be the brightest, most beautiful person in the galaxy, and looks down on those he deems his lessers. Nevertheless, in a superficial society such as can be found on Juno, Priscian is a charismatic figure and his rule is nearly unquestioned.
Priscian yearns for a return of the Imperium, but one created by his hand, with himself being the center of power as it's emperor. Claiming an obscure lineage to the royal family, Priscian maintains he is the rightful successor to the now fractured and broken empire.
Type of Government: Oligarchy (Manufactured Democracy)
Leader(s): Kaeso Priscian
Persons of Importance: Senator Appius Aratus, Admiral Gnaeus Viator
Species(s) and Demographics: Predominantly human.
Religion Description and Demographics: A denomination of the imperial religion known as Junoism, where the Goddess Juno (war and beauty), is the central object of worship.
Culture: Junoists have a strong pride in their military and democracy. The society itself can be described as vain, as most tend to strive for superficial beauty, resulting in a booming cosmetics industry. Fashion and decadence reign supreme within the Juno cities, the affluent obsessed with obtaining status symbols to demonstrate their high standing. A large underclass of poor and slaves labour to keep the cogs of the industrialized society going.
History: Juno was colonized by the Solar Confederation early in the 26th century, and terraformed into a picturesque garden world in the 28th century, as the Imperium began it's rise to power. A violent revolt by Imperium supporters overthrew the Confederate government during the war and Juno quickly became an industrial and trade hub of the Terran Imperium. The twelve moons of Juno were soon settled and the leadership of Juno became an influential voice in the Imperium Senate.
In the 40th century, Juno began it's decline. Mineral depletion on it's moons, and the fracking rift on Capria (Juno III), resulted in a steep decline of the Juno economy. More prosperous colonies in the Imperium gained influence over Juno within the senate, and the planet became a shadow of it's former self.
As the Imperium collapse, Juno collapsed into civil war, multiple faction vying for dominance over the decaying colony. After a century of fighting, dissidents surrendered, and pro-Imperium forces claimed victory. Rebels were exiled to the dying moon of Caprica, and out of the ashes of the war, the former Imperium leadership of Juno declared themselves the Juno Protectorate, breaking their ties with Earth.
Since their independence the Protectorate has struggled to obtain their former glory. More aggressive mining operations have begun across the moons, as well as an effort to reclaim Caprica. Neighbouring star systems are coveted for their resource potential and the ego of the Protectorate's consul pines for a new Imperium with Juno at it's core.
Military: WIP
Kaeso Priscian is the established consul of Juno, having lead the planet for two and a half centuries, since before the fall of the Imperium. A man ruled by his own vanity, he believes himself to be the brightest, most beautiful person in the galaxy, and looks down on those he deems his lessers. Nevertheless, in a superficial society such as can be found on Juno, Priscian is a charismatic figure and his rule is nearly unquestioned.
Priscian yearns for a return of the Imperium, but one created by his hand, with himself being the center of power as it's emperor. Claiming an obscure lineage to the royal family, Priscian maintains he is the rightful successor to the now fractured and broken empire.
Known in Mivaen as the Dread Pirate Rareik, Rareik is actually of noble blood, belonging to House Farwyn that were principal rulers of Mivaen before the rise of the Starborns. His ancestors defeated by the Starborns, their ancestral lands conquered, the Farwyns were exiled into the western badlands which have since taken their name. Though inhospitable, the rivers and lake that border the badlands offered Rareik much opportunity to hone his seamanship. A competent sailor, Rareik harasses and pillages Starborn merchants at every opportunity. He is currently in hiding following a defeat at the hands of High-Captain Tybolt Starborn.
Guest Starring
Nephew to King Victor Starborn, Wesly set sail from Starborn City a fortnight ago, on a trading expedition bound for the Kawachian Straights. He never reached his destination.
5th of Gerna 1200 AU
The boots of the man fell upon the deck of the ship with a purposeful stride. The snowy beard and hair resembling the wild mane of a lion as his predatory gaze scanned the threats about him, and his sword sung through the air finding flesh and letting loose a cascade of blood that painted the planks of wood a deep crimson. The sound of biting steel and screams of dying men was deafening but to his ears, it was a symphony of death for which he lived.
He was the dread pirate Rareik Farwyn, or so decadent wretches of Starborn called him so, fearing the man as they do. Rareik knew the truth. He was a king.
With resistance upon the ship put down, all those who would fight him slain, and the cravens that thought surrender would save them are slapped in irons and thrown into the sea, Rareik stood before his prize catch, the man for whom his attack was waged. The rightful king spat as his sea-grey eyes took measure of the man before him. He was a Starborn, that much was certain, the arrogant air that surrounded him was proof enough of that. He was dressed in finery from lands far away. The cur’s eyes were fervently searching for some means of escape, but after a firm correction from Rareik’s backhand, they found their suitable submissive gaze downward.
“You wish me to beg, is that it?” Wagged the insolent tongue of the Starborn. “I assure you, you will not get such satisfaction.”
Rareik said nothing, merely let his eyes bore into his flesh as if they were hot coals that could burn away the skin and lay bare his corrupt heart. Whether Starborn caught glimpse of the hard gaze, or felt it penetrate his being is unclear, but whatever the case his pride began to wither away and the precariousness of his situation let a stark fear creep up his spine.
“You know who I am. Whatever you want, we will pay.”
Rareik smiled, his lips curled to reveal his rotted teeth. “I don’t want your ill gotten gold, Starborn. I merely wish to sate his hunger.”
Starborn shuddered as iron clamps were slapped across his wrists, and heavy chains were laid upon his shoulders. “What trickery is this? My life is worth it’s weight in gold! Don’t be a fool!”
The words were mere wind in Rareik’s ears. “Lohennir is hungry, what mortal can deny him?” Placing his boot upon his captive’s chest, and with a firm push, he shoved the protesting lordling over the side of the ship and followed his pleading eyes as they disappeared into the deep of the sea.
Lohennir is not the only one that is hungry, and like that fallen God, Rareik too could not be sated merely by this paltry sacrifice. Only when the cursed city is razed and Mivaen his will he be content and the pangs of a hunger generations old finally be quelled.
Homecoming
Starring
Though the elder of the two Starborn sons, Tybolt has exhibited little interest in rule beyond that of his own ship. A seasoned sailor and explorer, Tybolt is the naval commander of Mivaen's fleet, and is content with that title.
The pragmatic head of the Starborn Dynasty, and ruler of Mivaen and Starborn City. A man of near sixty, he is widely respected among the lords of Mivean while reviled in greater parts of Ethica. Seen by many as greedy, or a midas touched by others, no one can doubt his shrewd mind for finances.
Though the younger of Victor's two sons, Willim is thought to be favoured among his father and vassals for the succession, given the keen mind for business he learned from his father. Sharing his father's pragmatism, Willim's love for family and empire is overshadowed by his love of gold.
The smell of the sea filled the nostrils of Tybolt Starborn as he stood upon the forecastle of his ship, The Star’s Edge. Before him the great city filled his view, it’s sprawling towers stretching out over the horizon, gleaming as the white limestone from which they built caught the rays of the sun and shone. After two years in Lointaine he was home at last.
To say he was homesick was a stretch, that much was sure. Did he miss his bedchambers, his hearth, and the gaggle of servants that waited upon his every whim? His home was the sea and he held little affection for such comforts. His family then? With his mother returning to her kin in the Northern Reaches, he had grown accustomed to the pain of her absence long ago. His wife, a fine woman to be sure, but he held little love for her. Tybolt supposed it was his dearest friend he missed most of all, Seras Rightspear. Two years is a long time to have an ocean between her embrace.
Seagulls squawked high above as his dromond sailed into the great Starborn habour. Heavy ropes were cast from stern to aft, tethering the vessel to the stone pier that jut out into the sea like a pearl finger. Tybolt descended from the forecastle and flung over the rail of the ship, dropping down onto the pier, not bothering to wait for the plank his crew extended. He swept his salt speckled cloak across his body as he made his way into the bustling harbor.
Surprise took him as Tybolt saw a small gathering within the harbour square. His father, Victor Starborn, King of Mivaen stood along with his brother Willim and a small entourage. A gaggle of merchants and nobles hoping to earn an audience with the king were kept at bay by a pair of guards with crossed halberds.
The king and his followers regarded Tybolt as he approached, falling on his knee in respect of his father. “My king, father, I am home at last, returned victorious from Lointaine and the errand you set me upon.” Two years ago he left to broker favourable trade relations with the eastern sultanate of Kysra. He had been wildly successful, earning an exclusive deal with the sultan, cutting their rivals in Violetta out of their iron trade.
Victor placed an indifferent hand on the brow of his firstborn. “You have served your house with distinction on that distant shore, now rise, for you homecoming is overdue.”
Tybolt rose, the compliment soured by complaint from his father very familiar in his ears. “Ill winds kept my voyage longer than I had hoped,” he explained. “Still, I did not expect a welcome here in the harbour.”
Willim, Tybolt’s younger brother, scoffed. “We are not standing among the peddlers and beggars for your consideration, brother. The empire does not stop and start at your comings and goings.”
“Than perhaps you would be so kind as to fill me in on your purpose.” Tybolt replied calmly, the coldness of his brother making him miss the vast sea.
His father put a calming hand on Willim’s shoulder. “The emperor is dead. Taken by a storm at sea. He, and many of his companions are lost to the deep.”
Tybolt felt the air leave his lungs. He realized his father’s purpose. He was bound for the capital, his duties as Arch-Elector compelling his voice before the Phoenix Throne. “Father, counsel if I may?”
The king shook his head. “I have no need of counsel, but rather a regent. Willim shall travel with me and impart the wisdom of his statesmanship in the challenges ahead, while you will sit the Pearl Throne in my stead. Heed the wisdom of the counsel and remember the lessons I have given you. Are you up to this task I bestow upon you, my son?”
Tybolt’s knees felt weak, as if made of glass that cracked and shuddered under the weight that now fell upon his shoulders. “Surely Willim…”
“No.” Victor interrupted sternly. “Willim will be by my side, but a Starborn must always rule. As you are High-Captain with a seat on the Royal Council, I deem it should be you, despite any reservations.”
“I will do as you bid, father.” Tybolt bowed.
With a satisfactory nod from the king, and a mocking smirk from Willim, the party moved on toward the piers, to board a ship and sail for the capital. Tybolt made way for the Stargaze Tower, the ancestral palace of his family. Locked away in seclusion, where for one of the few times in his life, he felt uncertain of the future.
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