RP: Spanish Battles

[Beta]

....sniff... sniff... my keyboard is soaked in tears.

Goodbye Spamish.. goodbye...

[mrmitchell]

Originally posted by History Guy, in the Private Forum, Referring to an Ancient Prophecy About Spamish's Age
(A gasp in the dark chambers beneath the palace...thousands of files and old boxes line the labyrinth, lit only by a few torches...the walls are made of earth, and one man stands alone in the gloom fingering the ancient books...)

The prophecy!

Spamish Mitchell is destined to live for many thousands of years and to die in Spain's greatest hour...

What does this mean?!

WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?!!!

Victory......or death?

(a hollow moan shoots through the labyrinth...)

[mrmitchell]

Memoirs of Spamish Mitchell Found!
The Introduction to Spamish Mitchell's autobiography has finally been found...it was hidden in a small box under his desk in an old, abandoned building that had once been used as the old Spam Brand office. How it got there, no one knows, but it included with it a small note reading "West," hastily scrawled across the page. The handwriting on the note matches Spamish's.

It is believed that the autobiography was written on the eve of the War. How it got in the old offices, we do not know.

The Memoirs of Spamish Mitchell
Businessman, Farmer, Noble of Spain

Introduction
It's been some ride, yes it has. Now, on the eve of war, with who I am not so sure of, I decide I must write my memoirs and put in stone (paper) what is my story. My memory has bits of forgetfulness (being the world's oldest person is not exactly a good thing for your mind) and there are probably some parts where I embellish, but you cannot blame me for glorifying if at all possible any story so intertwined with the history of the Great Nation, Spain.

I do not wish for people to awe at me once I have left this earthly world, for I am only a mere mortal; we should revere the God that made it all possible for us. His existence in the minds of the world is in danger, because it is only in the mind where religion exists when it comes down to the end. It is not so much as whether He did create the world--there are many foreigners who beleive otherwise--so much as you believe in an upper being to give you support and a reason to live. The knowledge that there is a better life in the end for those who give their lives to the Glory of God is the driving force behind good in all of the world. All horrors that plague us can be traced to a lack of faith.

Oh, wait, you want to read about me instead of God, don't you? Well, go right ahead and do so. Just remember what I have told you about Him, because it is good for your soul if you live in His vision. (I'm talking to you, unwashed foreign heathens. )

I don't really have much more to say in an "Introduction" and should get on with the story...grab some fried Squid and sit back and relax, it's going to be a good read.

(And oh yeah, one last thing--support the legacy of the Spanish delicacy of Squid! Learn to make some. Cook it up for your families today. If this is the last thing that Spain contributes to the world, all will be well. They say pure happiness can be found in the soft, moist center of a Squid.)

It's a light-hearted start, to say the least.

[Nuclear Winter]

Pamplona, Circa 90 AD
Commander Winterius rushed from place to place, from fort to fort, from battlement to battement, ralying the troops and giving orders for teh best placement of teh catapults, of the trebuchets, telling one stray engineer were to mount his boiling oil trap, showing how to best place the archers, teaching the peasants how to form the now famous ´´Shoulder of Pikes´´ formation, training the Swiss corps on command abilities... not a single moment would he stop. At the end of the day, when he finnaly sent out the night scouts forward, he finally managed to sit on a table in a cheap inn at the southernmost part of the city and have a beer. Most of the dwellers of the inn were soldiers, since that area had been evacuated for better allowing the moving of troops and the preparing of defensive apparatus. The citizens of that area were mostly in small tents mounted in Pamplona´s central square,were the mighty statue of King Togas the first laid. This statue was old and covered by mold in some parts already, but it only added to the air of power and greatness of it. It was like a father overlooking Pamplona, and his resolute eyes looking toward the gates were saying that none should pass. Winterius finished his beer and had the idea to start a talk with some of the soldiers to see how was the morale in the city. He in fact felt sorry for so many young faces, many of whom would die without ever experiencing true love, without having the joy to see their children grow, many fine young men who were faced such a terrible challenge before them... He aproached a young soldier, named Juan. He had been enlisted as an infantry soldier some weeks ago, and he seemed anxious to participate in a battle. Winterius noticed by this that he was yet to see real combat, for al who are eager to go to war are those who never faced the hell that a battlefield is. Yet, he admired his courage.
´´Hello , young man, how are you ? Feeling ready for battle?´´
The young men quickly jumped form the table and payed continence to Commander Winterius
´´Sure yes Sir!!!´´
´´ No need for that right now´´ - smiled Winterius - ´´I am here merely as an old man having his beer´´. The young men sat down, and started to talk to Winterius. He seemed anxious but nonetheless, proud and determined.
´´So, how old are you kid?´´
´´Pardon me sir, I am not a kid anymore, I am already 17!´´
Winterius contained a smile, and continued:
´´Oh well, mr young man, for how long have you been in training?´´
´´10 months and a half, sir, I am being trained to be an officer´´
´´Great, great. How do you feel about the battle?´´
´´I feel like I can kill a thousand infidels, sir!!´´
With a lower voice, Winteirus asked him : ´´you are aware that you may not return alive, aren´t you?´´
´´Yes sir´´ Answered the young man witha resolute voice´´It matters not anymore sir. I don´t care if I die here, all that matters is that I will kill many before I go, and that I keep His Highness and His Holyness alive to continue the fight. And I am sure I can make them pay every single drop of spannish blood they shed!´´
After a bit more talking, Winterius left the inn. He had a duty to those boys, more than they had a duty to him. He was already on his 40´s, it didn´t matter if he´d die or live, but those young men were too young to die. He had to do something to save Spain. He had his brave Paladins of the Holy Cross on his side, who were a mobile force who could very well decide the battle. He had the trust of his superiors... but above that, he had a plan, a plan that could save Spain.
It was with these toughts in mind that Pablo Winterius walked his way through the battlements to the Siege Workshop of doctor Pinch.