Cryptella

Honor, Courage & Conquer

We all have a debt with death
If you pay it today…….
You won’t owed tomorrow
Alea Iacta Est



By cryptella


By cryptella









Spartan Creed

I would not say anything for a man nor take account of him for any speed of his feet or wrestling skill he might have,
not if he had the size of a Cyclops and strength to go with it, not if he could outrun
Boreas, the North Wind of Thrace,
not if he were more handsome and gracefully formed than Tithonos, or had more
riches than Midas had, or Kinyras too,
not if he were more of a king than Tantalid Pelops, or had the power of speech and
persuasion Adrastos had,
not if he had all splendors except for a fighting spirit. For no man ever proves
himself a good man in war
unless he can endure to face the blood and the slaughter, go close against the
enemy and fight with his hands.
Here is courage, mankind's finest possession, here is the noblest prize that a young
man can endeavor to win,
and it is a good thing his city and all the people share with him when a man plants
his feet and stands in the foremost spears
relentlessly, all thought of foul flight completely forgotten, and has well trained
his heart to be steadfast and to endure,
and with words encourages the man who is stationed beside him. Here is a man
who proves himself to be valiant in war.
With a sudden rush he turns to flight the rugged battalions of the enemy, and
sustains the beating waves of assault.
And he who so falls among the champions and loses his sweet life, so blessing
with honor his city, his father, and all his people,
with wounds in his chest, where the spear that he was facing has transfixed
that massive guard of his shield, and gone through his breastplate as well,
why, such a man is lamented alike by the young and the elders, and all his city
goes into mourning and grieves for his loss.
His tomb is pointed to with pride, and so are his children, and his children's children,
and afterward all the race that is his.
His shining glory is never forgotten, his name is remembered, and he becomes an
immortal, though he lies under the ground,
when one who was a brave man has been killed by the furious War God
standing his ground and fighting hard for his children and land.
But if he escapes the doom of death, the destroyer of bodies, and wins his battle,
and bright renown for the work of his spear,
all men give place to him alike, the youth and the elders, and much joy comes his
way before he goes down to the dead.
Aging, he has reputation among his citizens. No one tries to interfere with his
honors or all he deserves;
all men withdraw before his presence, and yield their seats to him, the youth, and
the men his age, and even those older than he.
Thus a man should endeavor to reach this high place of courage with all his heart,
and so trying, never be backward in war.