Cocodrillo Matamoros
I
am Captain Cocodrillo Matamortos and the very earth shakes before my name!
When hurled from the rough throats of my men the enemy hides their women
and children and the elderly bury their treasure. But when sweet maidens
sing it the trees explode in full bloom and the rivers run wild with sweet
yellow wine and foam with fresh cheese. My armour is a golden mail of
linked wedding rings from the ladies of high esteem and perfect beauty
that have spent nights of love with me. A thousand roundels of love at
the very least.
My sword is simple Toledo craft but in
my hands it is deadlier than all the worlds cannon. At Mantua my men and
I faced ten thousand fully armoured Turkish arquebusiers. Like a murder
of leaden crows the bullets flocked to me as I stood on the hill-crest.
Luckily I hand my newly soled riding boots at hand. I plucked every shot
from the air with the steel-shodden boots, whose weight I had earlier
cursed, but for which I now gave pious thanks to the saints. Then I let
my sword work it's bloody magic. "Forward!", I bellowed Typhoon-like
to my cowardly men as they died around me in wild flight and in the dozens.
Instantly they rallied, even the ones with gaping, mortal wounds rose
and charged the enemy. "Cocodrillo!", rang cries from bloodied
lungs as they formed up and let the halberds form a thrashing blood-mill.
I the chaos my sword was ripped from my hands. So I picked up a Turk in
each hand. Many a infidel fell victim to their own spiked helmets but
finally my human daggers grew blunt. So I picked up a fully armoured warhorse
and … but wait. Isn't that one of Pantalones debt-collectors approaching
through the greasy mist? Has he seen me? My dear Arlechino! Get in front
of me and wave your hands so I remain hidden. He's got a club, hasn't
he? What will become of me? To think I would face my fate in such cruel
a manner, clubbed to death in an alehouse. What? Under the table? Yes,
your quick wits will be my saviour, Ill dive and crawl into the kitchen.
Help! He's seen me - I fly to safety!
Theme:
Cowardice
Passion:
To become commander of Vendora and marry a rich
woman.
Origin
of Passion:
Without a mother and raised by a violent father
Cocodrillo has never found appreciation from anyone but those he has dominated.
In the street gang of his youth Cocodrillo was admired and he has grown
addicted to this mixture of fear and respect from others.
Flaw:
Cowardice
Origin
of flaw:
The Captain is paralysed by the thought of losing his status, life, possessions
and so on that he is incapable of taking any sort if bodily risk. In part
this stems from the memory of beatings and his fathers murder, but this
cannot completely explain the mythic scope of his cowardice.
Virtue:
None
Primary
needs:
(in order of importance)
1.
Appear like a grandiose hero
2. Better
his power-position
3.
Marry a rich woman
Primary
activities:
1.
Brag about his military exploits
2. Brag
about his affairs with women
3. Talk
about his grandiose plans for the future.
At first glance the Captain seems to be exactly what he claims - a radiant war-hero and gallant gentleman but not much light is needed to make his true colours shine though. Vague threats of violence will make him beg for his life just as sure as a brief glimpse of a female thigh will reduce him to a drooling idiot.
Captain Cocodrillo romped through his youth on the streets of Barcelona. As the son of a mighty chancellor it was not hard for the young thug to dominate his peers. In addition to this he soon found he had an extraordinary ability to verbally inflate himself and his abilities. His followers stole and fought for little Cocodrillo, who watched the destruction with a smug smile and arms akimbo. At home he hid under the bed to avoid his fathers stick-wielding rage. One day chancellor Cocodrillo was revealed as central in a complex web of bribes and racketeering, but before the adolescent Captains father could be bought to justice he was brutally murdered in a public square by his compatriots in crime. Cocodrillo Junior, devastated by fear, humbled before his fathers assassins and asked to be taken into their service. Happily the syndicate put him in charge of a troupe of sell-swords bound for Italy. Thus Cocodrillo became Captain Cocodrillo and that is the path he has walked ever since. Defenceless travellers have been plundered, country girls ravaged and hovels burnt to the ground. Inside the Captains head, things look very different. He proudly tells stories about the glorious battles he has (often single handed) won, and forgets that he has never drawn his sword in combat. Oh, the Captain is a maestro all right, but it is in deception, treason and cowardice he excels.
The Captain speaks like he carries himself - pompously and without an Iota of self-awareness. When he lies about his military and amorous adventures he really believes in it and feels like a true hero. He likes to compare himself to legendary figures the likes of Hercules, Ceasar or Don Juan (whom he naturally has bested in contests of seduction on multiple occasions). The Captains strength is his conviction. His weakness is his sad cowardice. He backs out of all challenges at the very last moment and would rather humiliate himself deeply than risk a real confrontation. There is nothing Cocodrillo hates more than having his word questioned. Such situations make the captain completely lose his grip on reality and sprout even more bizarre lies and causes him to rage like an impotent titan or spoiled brat.
Cocodrillo has never personally been in combat, but his soldiers have committed countless atrocities following his orders. When the Captain has absolute control over a situation he can be terribly cruel and ruthless. His cowardice is a blessing to the world, without it the Captain would be one of Italy's most feared mercenary leaders.
To women the captain does his best to be gallant and humble, a tactic doomed to failure the minute he opens his mouth. He's nothing but a bragging and horny old swine masquerading his faults with grand poetry and extravagant promises.
The Captain is a Condottieri, a mercenary captain commanding some hundred military men without conscience, accompanied by a motley crew of whores and peddlers. At the moment he has only a handful of wounded men in his company. The rest have either deserted or fallen in battles from which the Captain has escaped head over heels. Cocodrillo naturally pretends that he is commanding the largest, finest and most glorious army Christendom has ever seen.
The Captain is a satire of the cruel mercenary captains that ravaged Italy during the renaissance. Their bloody campaigns were worst on the civilian population. From letters and chronicles of the time we learn that inconceivable cruelty towards the defenceless were as common as confrontations between Condottieri were rare. In the light of this the Captain serves an important function in highlighting the utter cowardice of this practice. Today he reminds us of the stupidity of war. Even if the days of swords and roaring cannon are long gone every country and every army has its Captains trying to hide their cowardice by overblown rhetoric and insane lies.
