Crusader Quest: Deus Vult

> play as Wilhelm

>Mathilde will never give Elias the most fucked up semi-yandere violent sexual experience of his life

why bother playing as mathilde?

For getting Hugo to not be a fuckup. Married properly, settled and shit.

pastebin.com/JEE8ZM7H

You are Mathilde, sister of Lord Wilhelm

And you await his return with your mistress, Queen Melisende. She sits upon a chair, watching the return of her men from the walls of Ascalon. You can tell how tense she is from the tightness of her neck, but its the only betrayal of her feelings, her face is a poised mask seemingly relaxed. You doubt others would note your lady's manner, you had grown used to the conversation of her body, the little ticks and gestures, that few others picked up.

As the banners of her lords came closer she shifted in her chair, a rustle of silk against thigh. She really was worried, and eager for news.

The banner of the Knights Templar and Knights Hospitaller led the procession, the lords of the holy orders marching beneath them in stained maille and tabards. The stink of battle carried with the procession, the iron smell of steel and blood, with the stench of sweat. Faces gleamed with exhaustion, helms removed and coifs pulled down to show matted hair in tangled clumps.

Raymond du Puy and Archamboud took a knee before the two of you (though you knew it was before your lady, you entertained a small fantasy it was to you they knelt), helms beside them, heads bowed.

"The wall remains untaken," du Puy said, "Though we pushed the Saracen hard, pushing further would have lost too many of our own men, it would be no kind of victory worth celebrating."

"I trust your judgement in this my lord," Melisende said, and the tired, black clad man rose to his feet, offering a hand to his aged, white clad counterpart. "Shall we call this a victory?" Melisende said.

"We should," Raymond said with a grin.

"And who shall be given special honour for this day?" she asked.

Raymond bowed his head. "Lord Ramla and his men proved their worth," he said, "And Count Foix mounted the north wall despite the odds against him. Both are worthy of your grace's favour."

>choosing the most boring pov possible
you guys are the worst. Hugo pov never.

>Hugo
>Married
>Settled down

its like you don't even Chivalry!

"Lord Ramla rarely disappoints," Melisende said it with a special kind of smile. More of the lords began to assemble behind the two grand masters, from the Lord of Sidon to the Prince of Galilee. Still, it wasn't to them she turned her gaze, but to you. "Whom should I show special favour this day, Mathilde?" she said, and you saw in her eyes this was one of Melisende's tests.

She enjoyed testing her handmaidens, and her attendants rose and fell in her esteem depending on their answers.

> Wilhelm
> Count Foix

b-but muh elias smut

> write-in

Fucked up, sorry.

> Count Foix

Best not to hoard the favor to one banner my lady

> Count Foix

Our brother would be able to handle not being chosen. Foix on the other hand might take it as a slight.

> write-in

whoever bleed the hardest for Jerusalem that wasn't Ramla

> Count Foix
He did pretty well on his own

> Wilhelm

>> Count Foix

"Count Foix should be rewarded, for a valiant effort," you said, "He has come far to help your cause, and warrants special praise when he excells beyond your own men. Would you not feel insulted if you fought hard for a foreign queen, only for her all her favour to fall on local favourites?"

Melisende's fingers drummed the arm of her chair,, a sly little smile playing across her face. "Well read," she said, "Send for the Count of Foix so that I may honour him."

A man-at-arms thumped his chest and started down to the assembled lords. Count Roger of Foix was a fat man to begin with, but in his maille shirt he seemed all the bigger, like an armoured ball, and his face was bright red and sweating as he manned the slope on the arm of his pet Iberian, Sir Rodrigo.

Count Foix took a knee and quite ungenerously you wondered if he would be able to stand up. You wondered how such a heavy man had managed to distinguish himself to begin with. But then you considered the broad shouldered, tall, dark curled man that supported him and thought, perhaps the honour should go to his dusky companion.

Melisende from her chair. She took a goblet from her attending table and filled it from a pitcher of wine. From a lead box beside it she pulled crushed ice, and mixed it into the wine, chilling it. Taking the goblet in both hands she walked to the kneeling heavy lord.

"Rise, sir," she said, and he struggled up with the aid of Rodrigo as a prop. She offered him her cup, and Count Foix took it with a slight bow, too tired for words, throwing back the cold wine. "You have my thanks this day, my lord," she gave him a deep curtsy.

Foix at last found his words, smacking his lips as he let out a last pant. "Nonsense," he said, "I did only my duty. If praise is required, praise my lad here." He clapped Rodrigo's arm. "Or that young buck Count Maine. Both fought like lions. Alas, a lion cannot take a city alone. If we had but two more men of their caliber upon the wall we'd have taken it."

"Indeed?" Melisende gave Rodrigo a look, and the dark, handsome Iberian bowed.

"My lord is too generous in his praise," Rodrigo squeezed his master's shoulder, "All in our company did our best, none more than any other." The Iberian was a humble man by nature, perhaps too humble. You thought humility a fine trait, except in excess, when it turned into its own form of pride.

"What say you Mathilde," Melisende once more looked to you, "Is Sir Rodrigo correct, or should further reward be given?"

> Sir Rodrigo is correct, withhold special praise
> Reward Rodrigo and Elias for distinguishing themselves
> write-in

> Reward Rodrigo and Elias for distinguishing themselves

> Reward Rodrigo and Elias for distinguishing themselves

We got two lions here and they both deserve credit.

> write-in
The company should be decorated then, maybe with a specialized banner or something. I don't know, it's still mostly peasant levies at this time, right?

>> Sir Rodrigo is correct, withhold special praise

eyes to Elias daring him to do more

>> Reward Rodrigo and Elias for distinguishing themselves

Damn, that's a really good middle ground, I am switching to this. Though I am not sure what it will entail

>I don't know, it's still mostly peasant levies at this time, right?
Not really. The common soldiers are professionally trained and employed men-at-arms retainers, not levied 'peasants' as such.

Just on the wiki now, looks like we're about 400 years too early to be giving out battle honors. Shame.

Romans were already giving battle honours on the legion standards.

Oh, well I'm pleased to be wrong. I'd like there to be some sort of specialized flag for this company to celebrate this victory later. Helps with tha martial brotherhood stuff.

Usually 'honours' are granted to communities or parts of a community like the women of Tortosa who were made the Order of the Hatchet for defending their town from an Islamic army, giving them special privileges in their home town.

Legions were organized very differently to a medieval army.

Well more than likely the Count would end up taking the honored banner home himself, though we might be able to give out a small order of a pin to be made by the camp followers later

Elias is a sociopath and anyone voted or votes for anything at all between him and Mathilde is a fool. He's playing us

>Implying Mathilde isn't a psychotic yandere who's into blood sport

But user. He is such a charming, handsome rogue and we can change him!

"Sir Rodrigo is too humble," you said, "A warrior should be praised when he shows uncommon valour, so that others might learn from their example. I say gift Sir Rodrigo and Elias of Maine some reward or privilege, and others will fight more fiercely next battle to be similarly rewarded by your hand."

"A good point well made," Melisende said. She beckoned Rodrigo to step forward, and kissed him light upon the cheek, "You have my thanks Sir Rodrigo, and reward shall be given from mine own purse, and a blessing from the Patriarch of Jerusalem shall be arranged on our return."

To be blessed by the holiest man of Jerusalem in the Church of the Holy Sepulcher itself, it was reward enough to make Ridrigo glow. He stepped back with a tight bow.

"You honour me, my lady," he said.

"You honour yourself, by fighting so valiantly," Melisende replied, then raised a hand, "Bring forth my stepson, the Count of Maine."

Elias swaggered forth, his red hair gone dark from sweat, his pale cheeks flushed. He came to stand before the queen and bowed. "Mother," he said, which drew an irritated tick from Melisende's brow. Truly their difference in age was only by a handful. Then he bowed to you. "My lady," he said, with the slightest curl to his lips.

"Count Maine, you distinguished yourself on the wall this day," Melisende said. She seemed unhappy to be showing her husband's son this honour, but her dignity was strong. She took his chin by her fingers and kissed his cheek. "You too shall be rewarded from my purse, with blessings granted in Jerusalem on our return." His eyes moved to you and you could see that was not the reward he desired, but he kept his smile strong and bowed.

"You honour me mother, as you honour all of Jerusalem with your leadership, wisdom and courage." That drew a puzzled flush from Melisende.

"Yes," she said with a slight lowering of her brow, "You are one for words Elias, I've not forgotten that."

"My words turn only to sing your praises my lady," he said

Melisende returned to her seat, and something in her manner seemed troubled to you.

One by one the other lords came to receive her thanks, to kiss her ring and take her blessing. Your brother was one of the last, his lion helm tucked under his arm when he bowed.

"Come and find me later, Lord Ramla, I'd like to speak with you in private," she said, sending Wilhelm away.

It was past dark by the time her lords were dismissed back to camp, and you followed her into her tent.

As she undressed she spoke. "We must always be careful," she said, and you helped her with the laces of her dress. "The game never stops, even at war. The lords are constantly fighting each other for advantage even as they fight beside one another against the Saracen. Praise one and another might see it as a slight, praise too often and all praise loses its value. We must spend our charm like a Jew at market, with great care and prudence."

"Yes my lady," you said as she stepped naked from her dress. You fetched her a clean shift for sleeping, which she pulled on. She sighed, rubbing at her temples, eyes longing for her bed, but turning still to her writing desk.

"Get some rest Mathilde," she said, stroking your cheek, "You look as tired as I feel."

"My lady," you curtseyed and she dismissed you.

Outside you were met by One-Eyed Bayard, who reclined by a post. His one good eye opened for you, but he looked unhappy. "You've got callers," he said with a grimace that made him look strangely like a camel. "Those horny boys again, and your brother."

"Which brother?" you asked.

"The young one, the boy," he said. Hugo.

> see Elinard
> see Elias
> see Hugo
> send them all away, you were tired

> see Hugo
or
> see Elinard

> see Hugo
And then go the fuck to sleep

>> see Elinard

>> see Hugo

Should see all of them in turn.

>Elinard
>Hugo
>Elias

in that particular order

>"You honour me mother, as you honour all of Jerusalem with your leadership, wisdom and courage." That drew a puzzled flush from Melisende.
>"Yes," she said with a slight lowering of her brow, "You are one for words Elias, I've not forgotten that."
>"My words turn only to sing your praises my lady," he said

The potential pairing of elias and matty is starting to already show some promise.

Except she is already going to Elinard.

yeah problem is if Wil can get him to turn into Jerusalem's lapdog in the french courts though

2shill5me

We managed to get him to make an enemy he didn't want to make in the defence of Hugo. Love makes men do strange things so definitely possible.

Just pointing it out. Just the word that hes in the running for Matty's hand and hes acting like a proper dutiful son/lord for the Queen.

>love
>implying

It's his Dick c'mon user

archive.4plebs.org/tg/thread/46210187/#q46218120

yes and?

"Send my brother," you said as you ducked into your own tent.

"Aye ma'am," Bayard replied as the tent flap closed behind you. Truth was you were tired, from the anxiety of watching the battle, from the stretched out hours of pacing. On your table sat a pitcher of your own wine (well watered however) and you poured yourself a cup. You wished for nothing so much as to get out of this tight dress and into your bed.

The tent flap pushed open and Hugo entered, and brought with him the stink of battle. His face was still licked upon the side with blood, and his blond hair was matted to his head. His blue eyes hung heavy until they saw you, and a smile took some of the strain from his face. He'd taken off his bloody tabard before entering, but now just wore naked maille, the metal links clinking around his frame.

"Do you bring a bloody axe into every maids tent?" you asked, pointing to the long handled axe he carried.

"Sorry," he said, propping it against the tent pole. You poured him a cup of wine, passed it to him.

"What brings you to my tent this evening?" you asked, "I had thought you'd have the freedom to plunder every maid from here to Gaza after this battle."

He took a seat without asking, dumped the cup back into his mouth. He wiped the win from his lips. "Good to see you too Matty," he said, leaning forward.

You sat upon the side of your bed, nursing your own cup. "Honestly, what brings you here? Don't you have dutes to attend to?" you asked.

"I wanted some advice," he said, and you saw a blush upon his neck, "A woman's advice, on matters of the heart."

You sat forward trying not to 'ooh' in a teasing sound, instead stifling a smile. "Matters of the heart? Has some girl bewitched my little brother?" you asked.

It spoke to his agony that he let your jibe pass. "Bewitched?" he laughed, "Plundered. She's reached in and ripped the heart from my chest and wears it on a chain upon her own. I am not bewitched, sister, I'm enslaved." He had a look like joyful pain on his face.

"And you cannot talk to Wilhelm," you said.

"Brother doesn't approve, not entirely," he said, "He has plans for me, plans that aren't my own."

"Marriage and alliances," you said, "Our lives are not our own to give freely."

"Even though my blood is bastard," Hugo swirled the empty cup as if it might conjure forth an answer from its the bottom.

"And what do you want to ask me?" you said, "If it is alright for you to defy our brother and make off with this maiden as your wife? If you should set your own heart above the wishes of our lordly brother?"

He gave you a tired look. "Pretty much," he said, "But...it is not just that selfish. I do not want this just for myself. I love her, and can hold no other woman before her, can put no one else's honour before hers. If I follow my brother's wishes, how can I do that without disgracing her? She has my heart, Mathilde. No other woman can have it now. How can I take another as my wife, and not have that woman shamed in her own way?" And then his eyes turned dark, "And I will not keep a whore." He spoke the words with a personal venom, eyes distant, no doubt upon the back of your shared father.

Such stubborn pride you were well familiar with, you wondered if whatever you said he'd still go his own way.

> follow your heart
> do your duty
> write-in

>> write-in

I got nothing Hugo will never marry right?

>write in
Give Wilhelm some time, then talk to him. He brought Jerusalem and all her allies to war for love, i know he'll do what's right with you.

Also I'm voting firmly against letting Elias in to see her at all

>write-in
talk to brother, double team him with Little Sibling Puppy Dog Eyes.

no way he can resist.

You just want me to confirm your own bias. Go talk to brother.

This is true.

I think you already know what you want.

Oh and do ask her who this "mistress" of his is

> write-in

If you had done your're duty you would have left antioch without fuss and Constance would have been wed to Poiters, If you had done your duty you would have wed Elaine.

no one could truly stop you if you choose to follow your heart Hugo but for once consider what it would entail

it doesn't feel right deciding this while playing as Mathilde

I love the fact Matty doesn't know who She is, I bet she'd have a heart attack if she knew

Somehow I see Wil going weak in the face of a truely determined Hugo and letting go of his plans for Hugo.

Hes abit of a softie for family.

Well theres other ways we might be able to use Hugo.

Members of the Orders are not supposed to be married but is it common for them to have female companions?

I definitely do think we should talk to Wilhelm, he could definitkey come around. Ask him after the siege, he'll be so happy when he finally gets the right to Iocetta that he won't be able to say no

still Marriage to someone with no power or ties to their name is a goddamn crime to Wil's rising star

I mean the situation is a hella different to Iovetta since love and politics aren't tied to the hip here

Well if doesn't marry, we might be able to get him to join an Order proper.

Wil will have kids of his own soon, he can afford to let his brother be happy

Then he wont be able to be with sabeen

Hence asking HF about the female companion, technically not a wife thing.

Wil can't afford to waste the chance to build alliances and improve his family's standing

>not establishing one
>not 420 praising it
>not being Sword saint as fuck

not at the expense of politics, at least keep it on the cards

Celibacy mate.

>celibacy
>infuckingplying

you're either fucking a woman on the side, a sodomite or one of the rare 10% that actually tries to be celibate

"I think you've already decided what you want to do, now you are just looking for permission," you said, and the way Hugo's face fell told you that you had hit close to the mark. He rung his hands and clenched his jaw. "Your only real option is to talk with Wil, try to reason with him. Let him know just how strongly you feel. Our brother is ambitious, but he loves you."

He nodded. "You're right," he said, "I have to talk to Wil, there's no other way to go about this." He rose from his chair, not happy but at least resolved. He came over to you, drew you from the bed into a steel rimmed hug. It wasn't comfortable. "Thank you for the advice," he said, and then surprised you with a kiss on your cheek.

"Who is the maiden?" you asked as he pulled away, hands still on your shoulders.

A boyish smile broke his face and he looked every bit his fourteen years. "Sabeen," he said.

"Huh?" you gave a moron sound. You remembered the confession in the bath. You had thought she had been talking about Wilhelm when she had said she loved your brother. Hugo was...he was just a boy. Then you remembered the looks they'd shared in passing, Hugo and Sabeen. And her baptism, the way she'd gone to embrace Hugo first. The way they would fall upon one another when parted, even for short times, and the way her tough face would open in joyful expressions.

You felt an idiot for not seeing it earlier, and for assuming something far different.

"How long have you two been..." you asked, feeling dumb.

"Not long," he said, "That is, not long physically, but for a while." He touched his chest, his expression drawn in.

You kissed his cheek, bringing him back to the present. He gave you a wonderfully confused look.

"Go talk to Wil," you said, and nodded. He took his daneaxe as he left, and Bayard put his head back in once he was gone.

"Who next?" he asked.

> Elinard
> Elias
> Neither

>> Elinard

Protocol needs to be observed. For now.

>> do your duty
People cannot play if they don't work

>the Sun is literally the embodiment of all that is good under god

shit son I can dig it

> Elias

than Elinard gives us a way out of the lewds if we're expecting our other suitor

seriously he can wait to get the lewds until the city falls

>> Elinard

Ask Bayard to ask Elias to tarry a while longer.

> Elias
>wanting Elias lewds ever

Matty is pure!

> Elinard

It is healthy for Elias to wait.

>> Neither
git slept

>> Elias
promise him lewd at a later date (like an actual other day) but Insist on seeing our other suitor after him

>> Elinard

>> Elias

> Elias
>wanting lewd

fucking cancer

>> Elinard
fiancee will have to be seen first

>Elias

I'll be back in a sec.

Going off last count Elias has won.

> Elinard

>Elinard
Then bed.

"Send for the Count of Maine," the flush in your cheeks made Bayard scowl, "What, you do not trust me?"

"I do not trust him," he replied, "But I guess what I think doesn't matter." And he disappeared once more. Bayard was a loyal dog, he guarded you faithfully, but he was not your master to dictate who you could or could not receive as a guest. You dismissed scarred, scowling Bayard from your mind as Elias came through the flap of your tent.

Unlike your brother he had changed from his armour into a fine blue doublet with white hose, his red hair quickly washed and combed back from his handsome strong face, but he still carried the sweat-stained perfume of battle around his shoulders.

"My lady," he said, "I have come for that promised sip." His eyes were hungry upon your form, so blatant they scared you a little and excited you as much.

"So bold," you said in a disapproving tone.

"Boldness was needed to take the wall," he said, "If my allies had been bolder we would have held it."

"But you did not," you said.

He smiled. "I recalled your words, and did not want to leave you weeping for me," he said. He leaned upon the tent pole, a tiredness in his body even as his spirit pounded with life.

"My fiance awaits me," you said, "What do you think of that?"

Elias sat beside you on the bed and you shifted away, a warm prickling upon your skin.

"He can wait," he said, hand moving to your far shoulder, smoothing the silk beneath his fingers.

"That is..." his face moved to your neck, pushing back your hair to lips brushing the pale skin, "Elias, this is inappropriate." Your hand came to his chest to push him off, you felt the muscle beneath the cloth, the strong, steady heart beat. Your gentle push did little to move him away. "Elias, be sensible," you said through a thump in your chest.

"Damn sense," he said, breath hot on your neck as his lips formed a kiss that made you shiver, "The world is mad Mathilde, let us be a little mad with it."

> No
> Yes
> Write-in

>> No
If he doesn't stop call for Bayard.

>> Write-in
Make out with him.

>> No
>> Write-in
This would be more charming if he WASN'T such a pathetic dog about it

> No

He can have a kiss. A kiss is a sip.

> No

not yet at least