Gothic

I looked down upon the fleeing Romans from atop my horse and smiled. Soon the remaining Roman strength would be distracted by the civilian refugees and my horse would sweep the disorganized and ineffectual infantry. A fine end to weeks of fighting and a fine land to win compared to frozen Scandia.
“Fools to have not maintained their cavalry aren’t they?” I stated to my son Ulf behind me.
“Yes, sire!” responded my young mirror with enthusiasm.
“What have you noticed about the lands here in Celtiberia?”
“Control of the central plains is dependent upon cavalry and control of the central plains gives all of Hispania to us eventually because without land trade they are dependent upon sea trade which our ships are in the process of gaining.”
“Very astute, we shall build a dynasty here that will last longer then the anything the Romans did for with this quality of land and the strong blood of the North combined with mastery of the horse and the sea we are invincible!”
“But, father the Romans believed the same thing,” said my son fiercely.
Laughing I turned to him and tousled his hair and rode down the plateau to my future.

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