I want to hear about the worst (virtual) lives that you’ve lived in ck2 and ck3!
I’ll start by telling you about Duke Giovanni the Unfortunate. I was a small Italian duke up by Verona. My father had died when I was 5, so I had been ruling from a young age over a generally stable land. It was quiet and kind of dull, but I got my education from my mother (who would later be tortured to death after being captured by raiders. By my 20’s, I found myself with a powerful bargaining chip: my wife (traditionally married) had a strong claim on the Italian throne as a close relative of the former king. Naturally I made some alliances, built up an army, and declared war to put her on top by the time I was about 30.
I rp’d this war in a pretty fun way: I acted as if my wife, as the future queen (hopefully) was leading the war effort, and I was simply a major ally providing troops and strategic input. With my high martial skill, I was leading the future queen’s main army as a commander. A few years into the war I caught the Italian forces off guard during a major river crossing and massacred their main forces. The war was basically one! One problem though: my character had been horribly wounded during the battle. The resulting treatment from my physician saved my life from infection, but lost me my leg.
No problem though! It was all worth it. The love of my life would take the throne! 98% warscore… 99%… SHE DIED OF GREAT POX. FUCK.
Turns out she got great pox from FUCKING THE KING, HER UNCLE. This guy wanted to go further than just cucking me and inadvertently killing my wife, though. When my claimant war ended after the death, he threw me in his dungeon and maimed me for my crimes. I now had 0 legs. My character lived another year before the combined effects of crippling depression, brutal injuries, and a poorly timed illness killed him. His 3-year-old son took the throne.
The family would eventually go on to take Italy, form Italia, and go on to claim all the lands once held by Charlemagne. But I’ll never forget Giovanni and his terrible, terrible life and death.
Maybe not tragic, but one of the few times I really went scorched earth. I was Khan of some area or another in the east. Very early, feuding with other clans, as you do. I was forging some alliances with my own clans by marrying off my daughters. My sweet, beloved daughters. During a raid of a neighbouring clan on my lands, they took two of the girls from their homes and kept them as concubine slaves. I went after them, killed the man and thought that was that. No sir, they were simply passed on to the next one in line of that house.
I destroyed every last member of their house. Not just the men. The women and children, too. The bloodline was erased. I’ve never really done that before, and it had no bearing on the campaign at all. But it was cathartic in that moment. Damn the fool who dares enslave my girls.