Do you know how many family members I had to kill for him to be my leader?
The Good Year of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ: 1198 AD
There was a man, no, I do not wish to say man, it is a far too neutral, perhaps even inferior, word. There was a god. Born into this world by forces few can comprehend, spawned from the quivering loins of the scabbard in the heat of battle, surrounded by practitioners of death, yet of the usual squalling which accompanies birth, there was naught but silence from this babe. Thus: Istvan.
As you can see, I am the Kievan Rus, and what does any good Kievan Rus player do with the most graceful and charming Eupraxia from turn one? Sends her westward, in search of the Lord of Satu Mare, the great Istvan, most underappreciated of all generals, yet mightier than all kings, including God. Some would call this blasphemous, but I would challenge you not to press that "Sack Settlement" button after taking Heaven itself. Personally, I would exterminate the populace, and Istvan, I know, would do the same.
This Lords of lords, this Prince of the Universe, as he is known, never set foot into my Russian territory, knowing that the key to victory over Kiev's enemies lay in the Holy Land. And so taking his beautiful young bride with him, he made great haste to the Levant, whereupon he asserted Orthodox authority (being the only true Christian faith) over the multitude of false believers and savage species of the land, becoming reknowned as their vanquisher. He even melted these pagans' precious dome and forged from it weapons and armor worthy of a new god such as himself. Donning his Full Plate of Radiance +10 he held his court in the now renamed city of Jerusalem: Eupraxia, after the most beautiful jewel ever known by the sands of Egypt. However, his time of peace and putting-the-spurs-to-her were soon to be cut short, as he received news that Kiev's blessed ally, Byzantium had lost Constantinople to ravenous Turk.
Unafraid and undermanned, Istvan immediately took flight from his newly-forged kingdom, which his heirs would be able to enjoy as their own, apart from the Kievan court, and came upon the soiled city, that bastion of Orthodoxy: Constantinople. Disgusted at The Turk, which crawled over her [the city's] bosom in multitudes unheard of, and in a most perverse and unholy manner, Istvan brought battle to them without waiting for reinforcements or allied support. And Istvan emerged, victorious, unscathed. The Turk would pay for his transgressions.
Restoring Constantinople back to the real Rome, Istvan then turned eastward and felled Nicaea, Ankara, and Iconium, catching The Turk unaware and very much apologetic for their ignorance, but Istvan has little use for apologies. They cannot purchase the lives of fallen comrades, nor lift fallen ideals. The Turk's pleas fell upon deaf ears.
Meanwhile, an envoy from Eupraxia, and a very good friend of Istvan's, had left the army after Constantinople's reacquirance and tread quickly northward, to the court of Kiev. He was to be the first of Istvan's people at court, and was welcomed like a brother, for the nobility in Kiev had heard of Istvan's exploits and their great nation boasted him as the greatest general known to man. Though they did not know it, this could not be closer to the truth. However, this envoy was not sent to mingle and have his mind stricken from him with the decadence and frivolty of court life, but instead to assess the political situation of Kiev. The envoy was unimpressed.
Ten princes and three grand dukes later (truly, the ability of the Kievan Rus to swim is quite lacking, something Istvan would be sure to correct in the future), a rider approached as swiftly as his horse could carry him to the besieging camp of his lord and master, Istvan. Istvan had pushed The Turk nearly out of the Anitolian, and lay siege to one of their only remaining points of defense. Istvan had barely begun preparations for the siege when he was informed of his succession to the Kievan throne. Forsaking his plans, and his army born upon this news alone, he ordered an immediate attack.
Stone from stone, and limb from limb, the Varangians, who had been with Istvan for so long, tore their enemy asunder, and despite promises from the supposed Prince of The Turk that he could offer Istvan limitless wealth, Istvan put the place, and its people, including this prince, to the torch, roasting the city's own goat and lamb amidst the flames it produced. It was a good feast, the feast of a king. Which, as luck would have it, Istvan was.
Istvan Appreciation Station
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Originally Posted by Bacon!
But i never play Hungary or mostly even come near that part of Europe 
(Okay, just once)
