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**ruby_maser** · April 24, 2003, 21:11

During the night of the storm, God came to the governor of Pamplona (or so he claimed) and told him of his anger with the city. The visionary figure demanded that the residents harvest gold from Montaña de Oro and fabricate a golden calf with which to honor him for the bounty which the mountain and the pastures had for so long provided to the ungrateful children of Pamplona.

Upon hearing this, ruby_maser, out of fear for the safety of his citizenry or ...whatever, set about the task of making a reality of the mandate he was given. The next day at an impromptu gathering of town luminaries, he recounted the story in great detail and made plain his intentions to both guests and local journalists alike to build a sacred idol to appease the deity he referred to as Heifera.

Word spread quickly among the populace and heated criticisms began to emerge from a likely source, the religious right. Despite a hastily-arranged town meeting that was intended to allay suspicions and bolster support for the construction project, this newly-empowered force in local politics could not be brought to compromise on the issue. Even with a cleverly devised advertising campaign meant to discredit and humilate the cause and laced with jibes about "Crying over spilt milk", the majority opinion of the community remained unswayed.

Finally, the mayor relented and announced that the golden calf project (along with a recently proposed Temple) would be shelved in favor of a renewed scorched earth policy designed to round up the undesirables of the city and ship them to foreign soils. Essentially, another Settler unit would be created, starting with the most visible and vocal group of the whole unsavory affair -- the willing scapegoats of the religious right.

Though spinning the incident into a renewed call for purging the city was deemed a great success for the administration and a vindication of Heifera, a private rumor had surfaced in the inner circle that the vision was nothing more than the result of another hallucinogenic cactus binge the the governor was known to go on from time to time. In fact, the governor let slip on one occassion in jest that he recalled no storm at all the night of the vision and that Heifera had more resembled an upright heifer than an angel and had a voice that bore more similiarities to the governor's own maid than to any demigod he had claimed to have visited with before.

**GeneralTacticus** · April 24, 2003, 23:37

On the night the storm struck, Antonio Tacticus was sitting in his office in the Royal Treasury, busily doing sums and keeping track of royal finances. When the storm first hit, he was in fact unaware of it, having fallen to sleep with the records so soundly that not even the howling winds, lightning and thunder could wake him (though being in the depths of the Treaury build helped too). When he finally awoke, he could hear the raging storm outside, though the rain and wind did not pentrate the stone walls of the building. when he tried to get out, he found the doors sealed, by what he did not know. For many days and nights he remained trapped in the building, alone; he would probably have starved if not for the presence of a pantry filled with salted meat and wine. When the storm finally abated and the doors opened, he was virtually blinded by the light of the sun, and had to spend several days indoors at the Tacticus family estates before he recovered.

Meanwhile, Cardinal Marcos Navarro Tacticus had been somewhat more fortunate. He had seen the storm as it was fast approaching the family estate near MAdrid, and ordered all the servants and family members, along with himself, into the stone cellars beneath the house, which also cotnained their food stocks. Begin at elast somewhat prepared for what was coming, they survived the storm with little more difficulty than a few of them who suffered from claustrophobia.

**Nuclear Winter** · April 25, 2003, 15:31

Nuclearis Winterius the III was going to travel toward Vox. He had just arrived in a Ohoenician city in the coastlands, and was about to buy a boat travel to VoxLand, (the long way through the Chinese Lands. He had set plans up for Stoping at IngChow-Wong-Hang-NI, to have a talk with his old chinese friend Shing-Hong-Tsu-Tsan-Ayee-****ong-BlahBlah ,and he was then going to visit the war camps, where he would be meeting with BetaHound, A Voxian General and Minister of Foreign Deals (Do this hints at the manner they deal with foreing Deals ?

).
But he had observed the Huge clouds forming above him. He went on and warned the captain of the ship :
´´Excuse Señor, but is it safe to sail on with such a storm forming?´´
The Captain, a Cartaginense Mercenary, said :
´´Harr harr younge, arrr yuuu scarrred attt thar cloudes?I fearrr noo storrrrms!´´
´´But... clouds aren´t supposed to be gore red, are they? And what about those evil screams heard from far?´´
As the captain assured him there was nothing wrong, he calmed down and sat on a table (well, not quite in a table, more like in the chair nearby the table, not so far that he could not reach for the cup of wine that was laid in the table, but, eh, you guys got it) and continued to drink his drink. Even while the villagers fled and screamed things like´´It is the vengenance of Abucaca!´´ ´´Abucaca is angry at us !´´ and ´´Oh my eye! For God´s sake, NONO! Not My leg aaaagghhh!´´ , and while the winds raged and destroyed all nearby, bringing cows high in the sky, he just sat there and said to himself ´´The captain said it is nothing, I shall not flee.´´ Indeed, he got a little worried when all of sudden the Captain´s ship was broken into a multitude of wood pieces, totally disapearing from his sight, and while he heard the screams of ´´Arrrrgh! My Liimbs arrr being teared appart!!!!´´ he stood still.
That is, until he was thrown up high and up towards the clouds. He was a bit scared at first (ok, he urinated on himself some small amount of 6 or 7 times...), but then he finally noticed the winds were flying him toward Estonia. Were he not form such a backward.. err, primitive age, he would know that a safe landing was impossible, and his negative tought would kill him certainly. But as he kept himself boldly controlled and calm(or embriagated, as you may wish), his faith and positive tought brought him safely down, over a wheat cart (how was the weat still on its place after such a raging storm, I don´t know. The fact is he was able to send a moose towards Beta, and before 2 days had passed the moose brought back another message answering his. He is now riding the moose toward the nearest coastal city, to be shipped back to Espãna.
Pablo Winterius, on the other hand, rode right into the red clouds that formed north of the Jungle Belt, were he was traveling in search of holy deeds; he was not seen since.

**OliverFA** · April 25, 2003, 17:58

(OOC: Aha! So it was the GATHERING storm!

)

Roberto Fernandez was travelling back from Valencia to Madrid. He hated to let the city unattended with this terrible disease, but the new city needed his attention to help setting up the most basic institutions and make sure that the order was instaured between the Lord claimed possesion of the new settled lands for the King and the Kingdom of Spain.

He had almost arrived to Madrid when he saw the gathering red storm filling the sky as far as he could see. He told his men to speed up, and see if they could reach Madrid before that (wathever it was) started. They were only a few meters away from the entrance, but despite their horses ran and ran, the city doors seemed to be at the same distance. How could it be possible? The horses were tired like if they had been riding for hours!

Then a great thunder was felt and they started advancing again. They reached the city in a couple of minutes. The fog covered everything and no one was there to receive them. They tried to reach the palace to meet the other nobles at the court and try to fight that strange event somehow, but it was like a maze. They could barely see themselves, and had no idea which streets they were crossing.

After some time they reached the city temple. Or what it had been the city temple. It was destroyed! But... how? Who was responsible for that? Again, no one was found between the rests of the temple. They leaved again searching for Palace, and found the barracks. Also destroyed!

They never saw the Sun, the Moon or the stars. But after what seemed to be several days the storm finally disapeared. They could reach palace, and found the other members of the court, everyone with his own story about the strange events happened.

**Hot Mustard** · April 25, 2003, 19:06

Señor Jaguar Dejon was, as usual, haranguing his troops at the restored Training Ground, and lamenting the lack of elite Spanish fighters.

When the storm started, the Commander did not notice the unusually ominous clouds, he only noticed that several recruits were not paying proper attention to their training, standing in place and looking at the sky. At the first crack of lightening, Jaguar gazed skyward, pearing into the rolling clouds and pounding torrent. "This could make for a good excercise.", he thought, "I'll teach them to battle the weather as well as their adversary!" The Señor Dejon ordered the Madrid Guard to the Training Ground, to play the role of a defending adversary, and then instructed the recruit captians to stage an assualt over the now completely muddied and swampy Training Ground. Every last recruit was to be used, "Empty the Barracks of every wet-behind-the-ears lad!", the Commander ordered.

The battle raged alongside the storm, and both brewed stronger, nastier, and bloodier. The recruits outnumbered the Madrid Guard 3 to 1, but were getting slaughtered in the mock battle. Only one division, on the far left of the field, managed to break through both the 1st and 2nd lines of the Spanish veterans. Their leader was just uttering a battle cry and reaching the crest of a rise, rallying his few remaining soldiers to attack the 3rd and last line of foes - when dawn seemed to strike!

Slicing and jagging through the darkness of the great storm, an enormous bolt of lightening crackled down, down. Time seemed slow as Jaguar Dejon watched the scene - the bolt seemed aimed at the young recruit captain...but no...it was zig zagging towards the veterans now...and further... CRACK! The bolt was drawn to the tallest structure around- the flagpole atop the Barracks! In an instant, the rooftop of the Barracks was aflame! The winds of the great storm carried the flames quickly, and within minutes the entire building was an inferno, despite the rain.

Jaguar Dejon reacted as any Dejon warrior does in battle, he set dealing with his losses for later and assessed the situation. "If this storm can destroy my isolated Barracks so quickly, what will it do inside the city?" He immediately called a halt to the pitiful attempts to put out the blaze, called a halt to the exercise, and gathered all present at the road towards the city.

"We must prevent this from happening in Madrid. Gather any appropriate containers here, and march triple-time into the city, picking up any more containers along the way. We may be needed to fight fires, flooding, or even looting amidst the chaos."

"Madrid Guard first - establish contact with the Royal Guard. Make sure the King is safe. Ensure the palace and surrounding buildings in central Madrid are secure."

"Recruit divisions next. Captains - each take a section of outer Madrid to secure. If you encounter heavy fire or flooding, enlist citizens to assist."

"Go!"

During the run into Madrid, Jaguar ran alongside each recruit captain and gave more specific instructions. Then he accompanied the Madrid Guard into the city. One of the first things he noticed as they approached the castle was a plume of smoke moving upward, from the vicinity of the Temple. "This is going to be a long night.", thought Jaguar.

**History Guy** · April 26, 2003, 14:19

Ill omens were afoot.

On the night of the storm, I stood on my roof, watching the heavens. You see, despite being a good Cardinal, et al, I have always been interested in charting the heavens, for I suspect that many things can be deciphered by them. Did not the Wise Men fortell the Birth of Christ by signs they saw in the heavens?

I called my brother-in-law Tycho over when I saw it.

The moon had turned to blood.

The next day, the sun did not rise, there was only darkness, and impenetrable night. Some wore sackcloth, thinking that this was surely the end times, and that the Plague had only been a fortelling. The signs had been plain. Ghosts were seen to squeak and gibber in the Spanish streets. The statue of St. Hernan Calamari sweated during the morning mass that day.

Then, the storm struck.

I was blessing the squid boats that day, as they were to set off again for my brother, Iago, and his squid company. But when the storm came, waves of 50 feet crashed into Madrid Sound, up Giant's Crossway, and into port. As wood was crushed by the surf, someone shouted to get the Cardinal out of the way...I began to turn, but suddenly a giant wave caught me below the waist, and flung me back out into the direction of the Madrid Sound.

Luckily, with my quick reflexes, I shot out my hand and grabbed hold of the Imperial Flag that graces the port. I realized that the wave was carrying me 150 feet in the air, and down below, a lot of the dock workers were pointing at me, whistling, and saying "Wooooooooooooow." Then, another wave washed them all away. I slid down the pole, and walked off, saved by the grace of God alone.

I'm heading for the Capital. They say the floods smashed the harbor to bits, but I don't know. I took the nearest carriage out of town to my family back home. Once or twice, winds blew the whole carriage over, and I was flung into the mud. Luckily, I got my vestments wholesale.

Cardinal Calamari of Castile

**Togas** · April 26, 2003, 15:36

Justino sat alone for an the entire night in a leaky inn room in Pamplona that was, reportedly, the finest room in the whole city. But even the finest thatch roof gave way under this unearthly torrent. It simply wouldn't stop raining.

The streets of Pamplona were muddy rivers. Most of his ministers and Lords were scattered throughout the nation and unable to travel as the roads were being washed away. Justino, still the bachelor, was here with just a few of his royal guards. He always traveled light, without the fuss and large numbers that his father used to bring. Things were already very different in Spain now that Augusto was gone. And it was this thought that had consumed him throughout the long, wet night.

Was this a sign from his father? From the Lord God? Was Spain being punished because of Justino's rash acts? A plague upon Madrid, the foundation of our civilization, and now a great storm that had beaten merceliessly upon the entire nation? Why was he not at home in the Palace of Madrid where his people needed him? Was he a coward for moving to the thriving metropolis of Pamplona when Madrid was where every other great Leader of Spain had lived? Was he simply a fool or a maverick?

But there was no changing things now. The roads were not safe for travel and yet he had called for his ministers to brave these rains and come to HIM.

Justino sighed deeply. The treasury was overburdened and there still weren't enough soldiers to ensure the security of Spain. Foreign wars raged somewhere beyond the storm of Spain and he was torn by a sharply divided nation over increasing our international clout ... or tending to our own social problems.

Another crash of lightening. Another patch of thatch slowly gave way and yet another dripping stream of water dropped down into his room, this time landing in short plops on his bed. Justino just shook his head. He wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.

**History Guy** · April 26, 2003, 16:10

On consulting the Histories of Squidarchus, I saw that such an event happened before, during the days of King Enerotogo II. He believed that he had to take a wife, as he was a bachelor. It was a sign from the heavens that he needed to get married, you see.

Perhaps it is likewise so for you, Spain's most noble bachelor.

Have you met my sister Isabella? She's just your type. Now she's marrying age...

Duke Iago Calamari de Toledo

**Hot Mustard** · April 26, 2003, 18:01

These are fun to read - good job everyone!

Any more accounts forthcoming?

**Nuclear Winter** · April 26, 2003, 22:35

Just on a quick note, before coming back from Estonia (still no ships available) Nuclearis made a statue in honour to Saint Hernan. The city he was in was out of food, as the granaries had been sacked by a band of wild moose who said NI. Then, after he had just finished the clay statue, a mispointed Voxian(or Gsmian, or whatever) catapult throwed 5 miscalculated cows to the hungry people, who received them hapily and as a miracle, and now show desires of becoming catholic! Ah, the misteryes of the church...

/me wonders if there will be holyday in sweden this year...

**OliverFA** · April 27, 2003, 06:39

Originally posted by History Guy
Have you met my sister Isabella? She's just your type. Now she's marrying age...

Isn't it amazing that every Spanish family happens to have several women called Isabellas?

By the way, listening to the reports I have noticed that every one of us happened to experiment a different kind of storm with similar but not equal effects. Can't it ba a sign of God? I think that he is sending everyone his own sign, so he know what he has to do to improve Spain.

**History Guy** · April 27, 2003, 23:11

Did I tell you about the tornadoes? The sand tornadoes, that is? How about the snow and the ice? The weasels that dropped from the heavens? The dancing pygmies that were brought onto my doorstep by a gust of wind? A lot of strange things in this one storm. It seems as though there was a lot of weather lately.

Don Iago Calamari de Toledo

**pikesfan** · April 28, 2003, 20:47

News from the Deanery of Etiquette [what do you call a Cardinal's house? A palace is too much] from Sister Beatríz Pikesfan, Mother Superior of the St. Ursula Convent School of Christian Etiquette

When the Great Storm broke, my brother,Cardinal Pikesfan decided to use his old standby of taking to his bed to wait it out. Unfortunately some debris blew in the bedroom window and knocked him on the head. When he came to, he found that his eyes were not working correctly. Sometimes he could no longer see the colour green. He asks for everyone's prayers.

[OOC: My monitor, 7 yrs old, is going on the blink and can’t display green.]

**History Guy** · April 28, 2003, 21:51

What tragic news I hear.

Dr. Pinch, my physician, chemist, scientist, and exorcist, is also good with eyes. He's been studying some bottled ones with his scalpel lately, and if you'd like to pop over to his house, he'll be glad to show you how everything works. He's got an especially nice big blue that he's just dying to disect. Perhaps he could show you what is going on, so you could apply some of his medicine, like his salt packs, to the eye. He's also got a mixture of squashed ants that, if applied, magically restores sight. Or so he says.

Just a word of warning about Dr. Pinch...don't look too deeply into his eyes. I'm afraid he might actually be a bit, well, insane. He's got a habit of hyptnotizing people, I'm afraid, and though I've told him to cut it out, he still does it.

Cardinal Calamari

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The Great Storm of 630BC

The Great Storm of 630BC

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