Saber... no. [i]EL CID[/i] awoke.

[color=f26522]"What have I been doing?"[/color], she mumbled as she rubbed her head, her voice now possessed of a masculine-sounding Spanish lilt. That's right, the summoning! The passage from the throne might have knocked some memories loose, but everything was back together now. She was Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar! El Campeador! The greatest knight in all of Spain, loafing around on some girl's couch while her nation cried out in anguish!

El Cid stood ramrod straight in the center of the room. Eyes sharp and filled with terrible purpose, she snatched a pen from a nearby holder and a piece of scratch paper, writing with quick, even strokes and placing it on the couch. Satisfied, she marched out the door, leaving a note upon which was written:

[center]I must go.[/center]
[center]My people need me.[/center]

It was time for El Cid to commandeer a boat and return the Spanish Empire to its former glory. First stop: Brazil!