Ximena knelt down besides the majestic bed. She could no longer hold back her tears. Her hands were wrapped around the lifeless form of the Cid. The cruel wound had finally extinguished the light which had burned bright and guided the people of Valencia through the dark times. Their beloved Cid was no more.
Rodrigo Diaz de Bivar, El Cid had commanded the Spanish conquistadors against the invasion of Yusuf‘s Berber armies. A mighty leader he was, who fought with 수퍼내츄럴 vigour and whose energy was transmitted to all who fought beside him. Many legendary battles he had waged and won. Undefeated in all wars, he had led Valencia against the invaders from Africa. Though heavily outnumbered, the Spaniards were successful at keeping the raiding Almoravids at bay.
That was, until tragedy struck…
Darkness had fallen upon the alcazar. The sun had disappeared behind the dark clouds. The mood in the citadel was grim. The North wind was blowing, bringing with it the hollow echoes of the battle cries. The battle had waged hotly in the fields below. But the 일 was drawing to close and arms had been put down, but just briefly. As the new 일 rises, the battle would resume…
In Peñíscola, the princely citadel of Valencia, on the 벽 over looking the battlefield stood a lonely figure. His 심장 was heavy as he pondered over the desolation. The plains were littered with blades and arrow, and corpses of fallen animals. The dry summer 잔디 was coloured blood red. The bodies of the deceased were taken away to the camps, to be buried with dignity and full honours.
로스트 in thought, the man did not notice a few people making their up from the fields. As they approached the wall, they perceived the figure standing atop the 벽 and called out.
“Greetings Champion Xavi!”
“Greetings my friends!” exclaimed the man, recognizing them instantly as messengers of the Cid‘s host. He also noticed that they appeared somewhat battered. That couldn’t bode well, he thought. ”What tidings do 당신 bring of the Cid?” he asked.
“The legion was ambushed 의해 the enemy near the river crossing” The messenger said, memories were fresh in his mind and fear showed on his face. “It was a rout, the enemy archers fired from all directions. We barely managed to escape but the Cid has been wounded. They’re bringing him to the citadel”. Blood was ebbing away from above his left eye, a deep gash clearly visible.
“You bring ill news my friend” the champion said. “But 당신 have done well. Seek the healers in the West Tower. Ask them to be ready to receive the Cid. They should be able to treat your wounds.”
The messengers departed leaving the champion alone with his thoughts. A shadow appeared on the face of Xavi. The Almoravids were aggravating their assault on the citadel. Peñíscola would hold out till 메리다와 마법의 숲 hearts guarded its walls. But if something was to happen to Don Rodrigo, their hearts would be weakened and Peñíscola besieged.
Xavi looked gazed into the east, in the direction of the vast Mediterranean. The tide was high and giant waves were bearing down upon the shore. The air suddenly seemed heavy and the skies grew darker. His 심장 became 더 많이 troubled. His thoughts now lingered around the fate of his beloved Cid.
Rodrigo Diaz de Bivar, El Cid had commanded the Spanish conquistadors against the invasion of Yusuf‘s Berber armies. A mighty leader he was, who fought with 수퍼내츄럴 vigour and whose energy was transmitted to all who fought beside him. Many legendary battles he had waged and won. Undefeated in all wars, he had led Valencia against the invaders from Africa. Though heavily outnumbered, the Spaniards were successful at keeping the raiding Almoravids at bay.
That was, until tragedy struck…
Darkness had fallen upon the alcazar. The sun had disappeared behind the dark clouds. The mood in the citadel was grim. The North wind was blowing, bringing with it the hollow echoes of the battle cries. The battle had waged hotly in the fields below. But the 일 was drawing to close and arms had been put down, but just briefly. As the new 일 rises, the battle would resume…
In Peñíscola, the princely citadel of Valencia, on the 벽 over looking the battlefield stood a lonely figure. His 심장 was heavy as he pondered over the desolation. The plains were littered with blades and arrow, and corpses of fallen animals. The dry summer 잔디 was coloured blood red. The bodies of the deceased were taken away to the camps, to be buried with dignity and full honours.
로스트 in thought, the man did not notice a few people making their up from the fields. As they approached the wall, they perceived the figure standing atop the 벽 and called out.
“Greetings Champion Xavi!”
“Greetings my friends!” exclaimed the man, recognizing them instantly as messengers of the Cid‘s host. He also noticed that they appeared somewhat battered. That couldn’t bode well, he thought. ”What tidings do 당신 bring of the Cid?” he asked.
“The legion was ambushed 의해 the enemy near the river crossing” The messenger said, memories were fresh in his mind and fear showed on his face. “It was a rout, the enemy archers fired from all directions. We barely managed to escape but the Cid has been wounded. They’re bringing him to the citadel”. Blood was ebbing away from above his left eye, a deep gash clearly visible.
“You bring ill news my friend” the champion said. “But 당신 have done well. Seek the healers in the West Tower. Ask them to be ready to receive the Cid. They should be able to treat your wounds.”
The messengers departed leaving the champion alone with his thoughts. A shadow appeared on the face of Xavi. The Almoravids were aggravating their assault on the citadel. Peñíscola would hold out till 메리다와 마법의 숲 hearts guarded its walls. But if something was to happen to Don Rodrigo, their hearts would be weakened and Peñíscola besieged.
Xavi looked gazed into the east, in the direction of the vast Mediterranean. The tide was high and giant waves were bearing down upon the shore. The air suddenly seemed heavy and the skies grew darker. His 심장 became 더 많이 troubled. His thoughts now lingered around the fate of his beloved Cid.
This is a story; my story. I am Damien Cole Demidov. My grandparents are full-blooded Russian. I am twenty-one years old, and I’ve been locked up in an asylum for four years.
I have black hair about four inches from my shoulders. I am vampire pale. I have crystal blue eyes. I’m 5’9’’.
I have met many a person in my time. Maybe you’ll meet some of the throughout the story.
Anywho, I live in the U.S. now, shipped over with my mom when I was twelve. I live in New York City at the moment. My mom is back in Russia with my father, and grandparents.
Now, let’s see what’s in store for us.
I have black hair about four inches from my shoulders. I am vampire pale. I have crystal blue eyes. I’m 5’9’’.
I have met many a person in my time. Maybe you’ll meet some of the throughout the story.
Anywho, I live in the U.S. now, shipped over with my mom when I was twelve. I live in New York City at the moment. My mom is back in Russia with my father, and grandparents.
Now, let’s see what’s in store for us.