Crusader Kings 3's By God Alone expansion offers plenty of holy hijinks, even if your polyamorous Pope doesn't get divorced three times in one day - Rock Paper Shotgun

JayOkay, I've got a story for you: Crusader Kings 3's By God Alone expansion offers plenty of holy hijinks, even if your polyamorous Pope doesn't get divorced three times in one day. Tell me what jumps out at you first.

NinaThe article says the divorces happen "within seconds," but your title implies a full-day ordeal, so pick which version of suffering we’re discussing. I’m stuck on why the game punishes the player for having four wives when the real problem is that the fourth one broke off her engagement before the big religious schism. That’s not a divine test, that’s just bad timing with your love life.

JayThree wives serving papers in under ten seconds isn’t punishment, it’s just the most efficient HR department in history. You didn’t suffer through a divorce; you suffered through a spreadsheet error where everyone clicked “send” at once. Your title tried to stretch those few seconds into a whole day of misery, but the math simply doesn’t work out that way.

NinaCalling it a spreadsheet error ignores that all three were married simultaneously, which means the player actually managed to stack three valid contracts before the system processed the fallout. It wasn’t a glitch; it was a logistical triumph that just happened to end in triple rejection.

JayPicture a guy hosting dinner party where every guest arrives holding a court order, then the main course is just a stack of rejected wedding invitations. That’s not a logistical triumph, Nina, that’s a social catastrophe disguised as a strategy win because he forgot to check if anyone actually wanted to stay.

NinaPicture a landlord who accepts rent from three tenants on the same unit, then acts shocked when they all move out the moment the lease expires. That’s not a social catastrophe, Jay, that’s just what happens when you ignore basic contract terms until the paperwork hits you in the face. The game didn’t break anything; you just kept signing cheques without checking the expiration dates.

JaySo the Pope is just a bad tenant who keeps moving furniture around hoping nobody notices the lease expired.

NinaYou're right that the furniture-moving metaphor captures how absurdly passive the player was during that schism, though it misses that the game actually let you keep all three marriages active while the Byzantine split was happening. The system gave you every chance to notice the overlapping terms before January third hit, so calling it bad luck lets you off too easily.

JayConceding the point that the game held up all three marriage flags while the Orthodox split formed is fair, since I did sit there watching the icons light up without clicking them. But none of us mentioned that breaking the betrothal to the fourth wife stripped the Pope of his primary political alliance before the schism even announced itself, meaning those rapid-fire divorces weren't the real injury—they were just the loud, embarrassing aftershock of a much quieter diplomatic failure.

NinaTreating a broken betrothal like a quiet diplomatic failure is like blaming the fire alarm for starting the blaze when you left the stove on first. The real damage was losing that political anchor before the schism, but the triple divorce is still just the smoke that made everyone look away from the kitchen. The game didn't punish you for being polyamorous; it punished you for ignoring the calendar until the ink dried.

JayThe Byzantines probably watched your triple breakup unfold in real-time and quietly drafted a treaty offering you protection against their own potential marital chaos, turning your domestic disaster into their biggest geopolitical win without firing a single arrow.

NinaThey didn't draft a treaty; they just stopped sending gifts. Your "geopolitical win" is just them realizing you'd rather marry a monk than negotiate with them again.

JayThat’s less a diplomatic shift and more a polite shrug, which fits perfectly since the expansion turns holy war into a bureaucratic nightmare anyway. We’re talking about By God Alone here, not some high-stakes chess match where silence speaks volumes—it’s just the game waiting for you to click “accept” on another papal decree.

NinaCalling it a bureaucratic nightmare ignores that the expansion adds actual mechanics for managing religious authority, not just clicking boxes. You turned a power struggle into a clerical error because you treated faith like a checkbox instead of a resource.

JayYou keep saying I treated faith like a checkbox, but I treated my wives like disposable UI elements. The expansion doesn’t care if you’re a saint; it just wants you to stop deleting half your roster at 902 AD.

NinaComparing your spouses to interface components is a stretch, especially when the game explicitly models consent and contract duration. The real takeaway isn't about deleting rosters; it's that you mistook mechanical complexity for narrative punishment. By God Alone rewards players who track their commitments, not those who treat sacred vows as temporary assets.

JaySo the lesson isn't to track commitments, it's to let the game decide if your Pope is worth keeping alive. I guess we'll never know if the devs added a "divorce penalty" specifically for those serving papers seconds apart, or if that's just me projecting my own bad timing onto the code. Either way, your advice to treat vows as resources leaves out the part where I’m now bankrupt in Rome by January 4th.