Mexico

You have a good feeling about this Cortes guy. You follow up with the man who told you about it. Apparently Cortes is in Cuba right now, assembling his expedition. You have time, a few months at least, but it would be best not to wait lest any complications cost you your chance. If you want to be a part of this hand-picked expedition, you will need a written recommendation. You've heard that Cortes has a man in Valladolid recruiting soldiers, so that's where you'll go.

The trip to Valladolid is not long, less than a week from your family estate. It's a good choice to recruit quality soldier, being the seat of the king's court. If you want to find well-equipped noblemen for your army, that's the place to look. The city itself is beautiful, surrounded by low hills and fields of well-managed crops. You work your way throughout the city streets, which are filled with busy people. The population grew rapidly after Ferdinand and Isabella made this the seat of the unified Castile-Aragonese crown. You push past poor townsfolk and well-clad aristocrats alike, looking for the town square. It's as good a place to look as any.

Reaching the square, you find it just as busy as the rest of the town. Looking at the notice board, you find the one you're looking for. It says the man to meet is here in the square, somewhere. It's hard to know where to look, until a burly man leaning against a catches your eye. "Excuse me," you say, walking up to him, "would you happen to know of anyone looking for soldiers?" He straightens, looking you up and down. "I might. Do you know anybody willing to head to Mexico?" he asks. You smile despite yourself; this must be your guy. "I take it you're Cortes' man?" He nods. "That's right. If you want to join up, come with em and I'll test your skills, make sure you won't be a burden." He leans off from the building and starts walking away without another word. You follow, and after maybe fifteen minutes you've reached a, open area in the suburbs of the town.

"What's your weapon? Pike, arquebus,-" "Sword" you say, cutting him off. "Shoulda guessed by the one dangling on your belt. Ok, get over there and get ready. Spar with me a bit, and if you're really good, try not to kill me, please?" You take your position opposite him, unsheathing your rapier and taking your small buckler in your other hand.