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How fast can you die in Crusader Kings 3?You come at the Pope, you best not miss
You come at the Pope, you best not miss
Yesterday, I dived into the magical world of themedCrusader Kings IIIplaythroughs, with this sobering exploration of what a man’s life might look likeif he cared for nothing except banging giants. I may return to my nightmare re-imagining of C12th Estonia at some point, but not today. You see, today, there’s science to be done.
CK3 is, emphatically, all about planning for the long game. The fact you play as the successive inheritors of a medieval throne means you’re always thinking centuries ahead. Even within the lives of your individual rulers, you’ll almost always want to ensure a long and healthy reign, as that’ll give you more time to work on goals that benefit both your current king and their descendants. Indeed, even Andyamo the giantshagger cultivated a secondary interest in medicine, so that he could extend his titan-tupping career well into his seventies. But what happens if you play with utter contempt for longevity? Playing as recklessly as possible, I want to find out just how quickly a king can get themselves killed.
I figured it’d be cheating to find a monarch already on the brink of death, so I went with one of the classics. Meet King Sancho “The Strong” of Castille. King Sancho is one of approximately seven thousand royal brothers who tend to spend the back end of the Eleventh Century bruting each other to shreds over Northern Spain. He’s wrathful, zealous, and looks like the man who would be on the DVD cover of a Poundland version of300. He is perfect for this mission.
Aka Nigel Deathwish.
Sancho is a man of action, and so he goes in swinging: on the second day of the game, 15th September 1066, he declares war on Alfonso, one of his many kingly brothers, rounds up every able bodied man in Castille, and leads them personally into hostile territory. This is not a campaign. He’s not even stopped to think about what he hopes to achieve, or what odds are stacked against him. It’s just an act of raw aggression, like a man charging into a pub toilet with a hammer.
A match made in… I dunno, probably a microwave.
The battle is, of course, a brutal defeat. But that’s no real hassle. Sancho declares two more wars while leading the bedraggled wounded home, just for a laugh, and then goes to the cathedral to do more imprisoning. Barely can an archbishop touch arse to throne without Sancho’s manacles crashing down on their holy wrists, and soon the dungeons are heaving with theologians. But this bores Sancho, so he decides to murder the mayor of his capital city instead.
The rival King begs Sancho, with tears in his eyes, to stop the madness and get back to the usual cloak-and-dagger throne-jostling that Spain is used to. He says that if Sancho will only surrender and change his ways, he can have all his lands back, and have another chance at the regal life. Somewhat over a barrel, the rogue monarch sullenly agrees to Alfonso’s terms.
But the second he’s out of jail, Sancho looks his brother right in the eye and holds his stare as he pulls out his phone, dials the pope’s number with fingers like a pack of gone-off Richmonds, and holds the block of wood to his ear. “His holiness?” says a beatific voice on the other end. “You’re fackin' dead,” hisses Sancho, and gurns unrepentantly, right in his sobbing brother’s face.
More like his full-of-holesiness.
Somewhere among all this, Sancho’s nightmare wife bears him a son. But Sancho cares not for life, only for death, and after naming his son “The Living Threat”, promptly forgets about him.
The pitter-patter of tiny fists.
Long Live The Living Threat.
Spain breathes a sigh of relief.
Now come of age, The Living Threat finally takes his chance to make good on the name his father had unthinkingly given him. Because of the sheer number of people who despised Sancho, would-be murderers are queuing up at TLT’s palace gates the second the scheme begins, and as far as I can tell, it takes barely minutes for the former monarch to be hunted down and - I imagine - drowned in spiders. It is the 25th of March, 1088AD, meaning Sancho survived 22 years of my best efforts to kill him. But at last, the juggernaut is stilled, and Spain breathes a sigh of relief.
