Pе™гўtelг© A | Nepе™гўtelг© Crusader Kings Iii-flt

In the world of the Middle Ages, friends are just enemies who haven't found a good reason to betray you yet.

The flickering torchlight of the Great Hall in Prague cast long, dancing shadows against the stone walls. Duke Bořivoj sat at the head of the heavy oak table, staring at a small, wax-sealed parchment. To his left sat his Chancellor, a man who had served his father; to his right, his ambitious younger brother, Vratislav. In the world of the Middle Ages, friends

Vratislav’s face paled. He knew the mountain pass was infested with "Bandits"—the kind of bandits a Duke pays to ensure a tragic accident occurs. To his left sat his Chancellor, a man

Vratislav leaned in, his eyes gleaming with the sharp light of a man who saw opportunity in every shadow. "An alliance secures our southern border, brother. It makes us untouchable. With the Hungarians at our back, we could finally claim the Duchy of Nitra." Vratislav leaned in, his eyes gleaming with the