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Stulte
Sorry about the lack of updates. Work has been really stressful lately, and for the last few days I’ve had a fever that could kill Zeus (well, maybe not kill, but certainly inconvenience). Last night I almost cracked a knuckle punching a mirror, believeing my own reflection to be a particularly nasty hallucination.
But, with my head kept upright by an egregious amount of painkillers, antihistamines and some possibly illegal home remedies that granny taught me, I managed to churn out a couple of soldiers to go with the rulers.
“After the battle for Porto I used to dream of the Portuguese infantry; of how they’d surge forth towards me in wave upon wave, all entirely bereft of fear, all howling with bloodlust. Then I met with their queen during the Treaty of Bilboa. She tried to slice my belly open with a broken bottle, killing two of my bodyguards and paralyzing the third. Since then she has taken the stead of her soldiers in my nightmares.”
“Their plate may not protect them from our rifles, but I suspect we’ll be seeing a fair amount of close-quarter fighting in the morrow, and I wouldn’t count on a bayonette to penetrate their armour. And, more importantly, they scare the men half to death.”
“Why is the sea on fire!? How is the sea on fire?”
As always, thanks for watching! I’ll probably shade them sometime soon, but for now I’ll go back to wishing I was in a coma. See you!