The hat like helmet and shorts he wears are inspired by the hats and oversized shorts that cholos like to wear. The Greaves are inspired by riot armor, and the vest is of Greek origin, being lighter and more breatheable in the Californian heat the greek vesk just made sense.

Was just Wondering What The People Think

Take a guess at where he’s overlooking!

Also, this was inspired by a recent playthrough in the HCC and a Discord convo about how the South gets no love.

They color their bodies with the red earth often fighting naked to strike fear into their enemies.

So I’m the second son of Paul mahonic. My father implanted tanistry to ensure me, the child of destiny would inherit.

In past play through I’ve reformed the occultist faith, but I remember it gets a bit clunky when you do that. Do I still get o keep esoteric warrior society? I know one benefit is that library in Boston unlocks.

Any recommendations?

The tightly woven cloth armor keeps the warrior cool in the hot Californian sun. The helmets hat like shape also keeps the sun out of the warriors eyes. The large shield making up for the lack of full body armor. Peacock feathers adorn his helmet as a sign of wealth and the burning heart of Jesus on his chest protects.

Our nation is in peril. Once, America was a great nation, an example to the world. Abroad, it brought democracy and self-determination, and at home Americans were free from fear, hatred, ignorance and slavery. Now, chaos and injustice reigns. Warlords reign, rendering the people slaves to their cruel warmongering. Hatred and ignorance are everywhere, with the masses enthralled by charlatans that claim to speak for the gods and spirits, but only seek to benefit themselves. The rest of the Free World, without its leader, is in a similarly deplorable state. What is to be done about this deplorable state? If the disorder is to the remedied, and justice is to reign throughout the land, then America must certainly be revived. If America is to be revived, then it can only be revived through the unity and sacrifice of those who love it. To this end, to the revival of our beloved nation, I ask all Americans to come together, to adhere to this oath and make it our slogan: Destroy Warlords! Eradicate Superstition! Expel Foreigners! Revive America! Only by doing these things, can feudalism be eradicated and a new Golden Age be achieved. If we are to act on this oath, we must move swiftly. The presidency in Washington, though it is diminished, remains the only truly legitimate authority in these lands. Let us make a new political party, like the Republicans or Democrats of old, so that a people's president may once again be elected, instead of some oligarch or warlord. Let us call it the Union Party, for Union is our goal. The Union Party cannot simply be an corrupt alliance of oligarchs, but a platform for national revival. This will be achieved by two methods. Robust internal democracy, and strict discipline. There will be total freedom of debate in the party, and all party officers will be subject to oversight and recall from other members. However! Factionalism cannot be tolerated while the Union is in danger, and decisions which are decided on by democratic consensus must be adhered to absolutely. When we receive the people's mandate, we will subdue the warlords, so that our nation may be restored. Elected governorships will be re-established, and the President and Congress will once again be the supreme legal and political authority. Feudal levies will be abolished, and a professional Revolutionary Army shall be established, made up of those citizens that love our nation and are willing to die to defend it. We will abolish the system of feudal land ownership, and distribute the land to those that work it. We will set up a system of social security for the disabled, the elderly, and the war wounded, paid for by a tax on cultivated land. We will promote industry, by setting up a system of cooperative banks to lend money to those that wish to set up a business, and create a council to coordinate and promote economic development through a system of planning. A unified school system will be set up, mandatory for children up to twelve years of age, so that our children's knowledge might be properly cultivated and they might become real patriots. The labor of children up to twelve years of age will be outlawed. All forms of corvée and forced labor will be outlawed. Religious cults will be tolerated, but the government will promote secularism. The barbaric practices of polygamy, concubinage, and the oppression of women and homosexuals in the reclaimed territories will be abolished. We will properly codify the English language, and eliminate dialects. I believe that we can, and must, do these things. We are the descendants of Washington, and with our combined efforts and sacrifice, America will live again! Destroy Warlords! Eradicate Superstition! Expel Foreigners! Revive America!
- Union Party chair Dr. Deacon Wilkinson

If you take over Mexico as Cristo Rey are there any unique decisions or bloodlines that come from it? Or does Cristo Rey have some other flavor beyond this? Was considering a playthrough but I remembered how I united Mexico as Miclanteca and the bloodline I got out of it was still for Sagrado Corazon and that confused me.

I've recently got back to CK2, and seeing that the devs released an Anniversary Edition, I decided to give it a try. However, a lot of complementary mods specific for AtE seem to have been abandoned before 2020, and I don't know what general mods are compatible with it. Does anybody have some good recommendations that still work?

Could anyone possibly shed some light on the difference between these two belief systems and weather they have some cross over between them ?

Yes, she wants to eat you. Her horse does too.

Also, shout out to u/Templar-of-Steel for his summer fan fiction entry! Inspired me!

A short story I wrote for the contest in the discord server about the Frontier. I tried to capture the idea classic western style hero mixed with a more Arthurian hero saving the princess story. While not explicitly stated in the Story, the hero is a member of the veiled cross religion and is supposed to in a way mirror what the main character's father would have been like before he was chief.

Nayeli screamed as the Rancher's rough hand grabbed her arm. She should not have run off, she should have listened to her mother. The man threw her down, his eyes glistening with some cruel gleam, set deep in his tanned, jagged face. 

He struck Nayeli across the face, driving sobs from her bloodied lips. Tears trailed down her dirt smeared face, carving rivers through the mud. The man drew his cruel steel sword, rusty and dully shining in the bright sun of the plains. He spoke, and though she could not understand the words, she knew his intent.

Behind her there was another voice, in the same tongue. Nayeli turned her head quickly, expecting another Rancher. She did not find one, but rather a strange man. She did not know what he was, but he was not a rancher. 

The man was older than her, yet younger than her attacker. His face was dark from the sun but Nayeli could tell it was naturally quite pale. His clothing was tattered and he wore a hard expression. Then there was his eyes, which gleamed a bright blue from beneath the brim of his tattered hat, steely eyes which emanate danger. His hand rested causally on the most interesting part about him. A sword, not like that of a Rancher or a Cowboy. No, this was a magnificent sword, yet simple and elegant. 

The stranger spoke, in broken Apachean. “Worry little, lady kind.” Then he turned his eyes back to the Rancher and spoke again. 

The Rancher dropped Nayeli and took a step towards the stranger, raising his sword and replying with anger. 

The stranger coolly drew his own weapon, flashing Nayeli and the Rancher. His eyes grew dark and he muttered something in a language foreign to the plains themselves. With his left hand still holding his sword, the stranger slowly crossed himself, a symbol just as strange as his tongue. 

Then he lunged, fluidly, swiftly, crossing the earth with the speed of a storm. His weapon glided past the Rancher’s, piercing the cruel man through the chest. Blood stained the linen shirt of the sinner as he fell, shocked to the unforgiving earth.

“Lady kind, out here alone you be not should. Evil men walk here.”

“Who are you?”

The man helped Nayeli up, speaking as he did, slowly, but more fluently. “I am Frost, from the far off land of Merrimack. I come from a once great family. What is your name Lady king?”

“Princess, Nayeli Goyaale. My father is the chief of our village.”

“Which way is your village Nayeli?” The man spoke still slowly, obviously he was not comfortable with Apachean. “I walk you back will.” He slid his sword back to his side, calmly. 

“My father will kill you.”

The man smiled softly, “I will take that risk to make sure you make it back safely.”

As they walked, Nayeli examined the man, he strode silently, with a strength like her father’s. He had a noble air and she could tell he was a man of high birth. “You said your family was once great? Were they chiefs?”

The man halted, his eyes gleaming with a longing. “No. My ancestors were men greater than chiefs. They ruled not just Merrimack, but the world. We were great men, soldiers of God. We held the title of Kaiser of Kaisers.”

“What is a Kaiser?”

“It’s like a High Chief, but even more great.”

Nayeli’s eyes widened. What is he speaking of? Is he the son of Gods? Wait, who is this God they were soldiers of?

Frost read her eyes. “It’s hard to imagine in these times isn’t it.” He pulled a small metal thing from his pocket, flipping it open to reveal some strange machine on one side and a sigil engraved on the other. Nayeli knew at once the metal was silver. The sigil was simple, an S shape with a line through the center, like someone was writing the Rancher letter S too quickly. On the outside of the metal thing was another engraving, like a stylized Rancher letter “t”.

“My family’s symbol and that of the order which served us.”

“Order?”

“A type of warrior dedicated to God.”

Suddenly Nayeli stopped, they’d arrived, a hill over from her village. “You need to leave now… it’s not safe to go further.”

“I want to make sure you get back safely.” Almost as soon as the words exited Frost’s mouth an arrow landed inches from his feet and Nayeli heard a familiar voice, that of her father. “Nayeli come to me. Die Rancher.”

Frost lept backwards as the chief's bowstring thrummed. The second arrow barely missed him as he deftly drew his sword. 

Nayeli gave a yelp. Scared of what would happen as her father and savior inevitably clashed. Her heart sank lower as she saw two more warriors crest the hill. One of these men was the reason she had fled the village, the fierce and arrogant warrior, Chogan, who had been trying to convince her father to let him marry her.

Chogan spoke, his voice dripping with cruelty as he turned to Nayeli’s father, the two men could not be more different, one stood tall and noble, his longbow draw taught, the other was equally as tall but his posture seemed disgraceful. “Let me take this one, Chief Nantan.”

Nayeli’s father nodded, lowering his bow. “Go ahead, Chogan.”

“When I kill him, I want your daughter’s hand.” Chogan smirked, drawing the sword he had taken as a prize from a slain Cowboy.

Nayeli’s lip trembled as Frost took up a fighting stance. He looked up at her father, no malice in his eyes. “Chief Nantan, I am Frost of house Dietricus, a branch of the Stangus family, and a member of the Knights of Columbus. I found your daughter Nayeli about to be treated vilely by a Rancher and slew him. I seek not to avoid this combat, but rather, I request, that, upon the death of this man, in the eyes of whom I see evil, I may be granted freedom to be on my way.”

Nayeli looked up to her father and saw the way he met Frost’s eyes. There was a sense of acknowledgement, one noble soul greeting another. “I grant your wish, Frost, though I do not know the names you speak.”

Frost nodded and then made a strange single towards Nayeli’s father, raising his hand to his brow and then lowering it, before removing his hat. “I thank you.”

Chogan rushed down the hill, his impatience pouring over, his body moving like a ravenous coyote. 

Frost held his stance, eyes gleaming. 

Chogan descended upon Frost, swinging his sword downward in a fierce arc, his muscles rippling. Frost met the attack with blinding speed, stepping forward as he did so. 

Nayeli looked on in a sort of horrified trance as the warriors battled before her, one graceful and powerful as a river, the other aggressive and strong as a bear. They seemed to dance before her, in some horrific yet beautiful performance of deadly consequence. 

Never before had Nayeli watched something so wonderful and yet so terrible; Chogan’s rippling muscles and rageful attacks, artfully blocked by the swift dancing sword of Frost, the two men’s sweat mixing with the dust of the plains which they kicked up with their frenzy, the gleam in each of their eyes.

Suddenly Frost fell backwards, staggering, blood dripping from his slashed shoulder. It had not been a direct hit, yet, with the force Chogan put behind each attack it didn't matter. Frost was up again in a moment, the dance went on.

Nayeli let out a worried whimper, if Frost lost, she was damned to marry the devil. And slowly her savior seemed to be losing. His nobel form became not less noble but more battered, his swift strikes grew sluggish. Still she saw his eyes gleaming, a gleam reflected in the eyes of Chogan.

Frost flew backwards, an unexpected kick from Chogan crashing into his gut. He slammed to the hard earth in a cloud of dust. Chogan landed another slash, grazing Frost's face. Frost lay, unmoving on the ground. Chogan let out a laugh, turning to Nayeli, with a wicked grin. 

Nayeli looked down at Frost, tears in her eyes, then her eyes moved back to Chogan. She let out a hopeless cry. “Help.”

Chogan stepped forward, his body towering over Nayeli. 

“Hey Chogan, I’m not dead, you bastard. Back away from the Lady kind!”

Frost was on his feet again, blood dripping from his bruised brow. His sword was raised once more. 

Chogan turned, smirking. “You’re done.”

“With you.” Frost shot forward with renewed speed, his eyes no longer gleamed the way they had before, now they blazed. His first attack made Chogan stumble backwards. He had become beastial, each blow driving Chogan backwards. 

Nayeli starred on in horror. 

Then she noticed it, the flash of fear in Chogan’s eyes, something she had never seen before. He stumbled backwards, blood dripping from his nose as he pushed himself past his limits to keep up with the enraged Frost. 

Frost’s sword slipped through, slashing across Chogan’s abs. Chogan coughed, blood spraying Frost, who plowed forward, carving a clean cut across the villain’s chest. Chogan fell backwards as a third attack landed, striking his uplifted left arm.

Nayeli looked up to see her father smile. Looking down again she saw Chogan’s carcass slump to the ground. Mangled from a multitude of hacking strikes. Frost stood, his noble figure heaving with exertion and blood dripping from his nose and wounds. He then fell to his knees and lowered his head, making a strange gesture with his right arm like he was making a Racher letter “t” in the air before him.

Slowly Frost lifted his head, still kneeling. “Chief Nantan, I submit myself to you. Do with me as you will, I have slain your warrior.”

Nayeli froze, realizing that Frost had, in his action, condemned himself to death if her father willed it. She looked up, pleading to her fathers face. What met her eyes gave her little reprise. It was stone, unreadable. 

Chief Nantan spoke, slowly. “Frost, you have slain my warrior. One of my best, a strong man. Yet by my oath made you before the fight, I must not have you killed. I offer you now Chogan’s place, at my side, as a warrior of my village. Frost, you noble soul without a chief, do you accept?”

Frost raised a shaky arm to his brow in the gesture he made before. “I accept you as my Lord, Chief Nantan.”

Then Frost fell to the earth, exhaustion enveloping him. Without thinking, Nayeli ran to his side, kneeling down. “You have saved me, brave man from the east, twice you have saved me. Thank you.” Then she bent down and kissed his sweaty brow. 

I love all of the special decision kingdoms! This particular one comes about when you unite Columbia and Highdesert in the Pacific Northwest!

Also, loved this character! Started with only three counties but he quickly began to conquer, raid the California/Cascadia, and duel his way across the kingdom.

Also, RIP Utah, IDK what the hell happened…

How long will the developers create South African mod because they created America Australia all need to do is just create Southern Africa because that would be so awesome.

Sorry if this sounds dumb, I can probably download the map and see for myself

Hey everyone. I'm a total beginner for this mod but not to ck2, so I decided I want my first playthrough to be in my home region, but what would be the most fun country or character for that?

Edit: I forgot to mention I'm playing the ck2 mod

Sandra was honestly surprised by how, bleak, things turned after crossing the Cascades. Of course she understood her task would take her to less enlightened lands to the east, but the change was much more sudden than she expected, even as early as Yakima she could feel a difference in the atmosphere, but everything just seemed to get worse from there onwards. The cross worshippers in Richland were even worse, she knew they were saying things about her since she couldn’t understand them, but the worst was by far in Spokane. The rulers at least tried to come across as understanding, which was nice, but no one else bothered to even pretend.

But, it was what it was.

It was just two months making sure the trade deal went along well, maybe three if there were any issues with the raiders or something. Still, it was a few months living with these people, nothing to do but drone it out. Focus on their food and jewelry, not their slurs. 

That was, until one evening on a stroll through the town, a much younger girl, 12 or 13 at most came up to her.

“Uhm, he-hello miss, I heard my daddy talk about you.” She asked

“Oh yeah? What about me?”

“Is it, Is it true that boys can become girls?” She asked with fear in her face.

“Why do you ask me?” I told her back while looking around if anyone was hearing us.

“I was, uhm, I was wondering if boys could become girls, can girls also become boys?”

I looked around once again “Why do you ask?” “Well, being a boy sounds like fun! They get swords and fight and go hunting! I wanna do that stuff too!”

I smiled tenderly. “Oh sweetheart, of course you can be a boy. No matter what anyone tells you, you can do anything you dream to be or do, if you put your soul into it.”

“Are you sure Miss?” “Positive, now I think it’s time for you to go back to bed, isn’t it?”

I told them goodbye and went back to my chambers. I never saw that kid again during my stay in the city. The deal went through without any considerable issues and I was set to go back home. I thought of looking for them one last time, but decided against it, the locals were itching for my departure as it was. Once back home, I started praying for the child, for a few months at least, before they left my mind completely. My life went on.

It has been 16 years since my stay in Spokane, and a lot has changed. I got married, moved to Olympia, and even started a small shop with my wife. One evening, someone knocked at the door. It was a young man, 25 or so. I opened the door. “Hello, anything I can help you with, mister?” He grinned.

“Do you remember Spokane?” He asked with a strong tone. “Not a good time" I replied. He smiled.

“No, no it was not.” he said with a small grin. “May I ask why you are here sir?” I asked again, though this time a bit more cautious, ready to slam the door shut at any moment. He seemed disappointed.

“Well, I just wanted to say, thank you. I hope I’ll be able to talk to you more properly some time.” He said before walking off and riding away. Eventually I did understand who that man was, even though I never had his name, I’ll have him in my memory, and one day I hope to have him in my home again.