When One Goes Hunting Monsters...

Siegfried stood there at the foot of the tower. It's black granite rough cut streched to the empty heavens. Ravens perched on the balconies sang songs off death. The cackles of a lone madman echoed down the ancient stairs.

Siegfried looked to his friends, lovely Kriemhilde and hardened Gunther. They were the children of a long ruined kingdom. When they were but babes at their mothers' breasts, the evil Lungenrath came and began his vicious campaign against good. Their parents death screams were their lullabies and the rules of war were their upbringing. These three friends had fought their whole lives against a beast who took any chance for a normal life away from them. All their lives they had followed thier Generals to hell and back on a desperate quest to enact a birthright vendetta.

And now here they were, at the foot of Lungenrath's tower; ready to scale and destroy the warlord at the top. Lugenrath was alone as the last of his forces had been brutalized the night before. Siegfried remembered it well.

Siegfried had stood in a reeking field among legions of the dead. His army had backed Lungenrath's forces into a corner and was ready to deliver the final blow. He called Gunther and told him to rally the troops for one last ambush. It was then that Kriemhilde reported that the three of them were the only ones left.

But none of that mattered now because it was all worth it. Here they stood at the foot of the tower. All the long years when they sinned against thier fellow man were about to pay off. Finally they would be able to rest. Siegfried led them up the long hand-chiseled stairs to the top.

Lungenrath sat on his throne, donned in his black plates, and bow in hand. He was waiting for them. With two quick shots Gunther and Kriemhilde were rendered asunder. Seigfried took to thier sides as Lungenrath dashed down the twisting staircase.

Seigfried wanted to save them and he could have. The wounds were critical but not yet mortal. As blood seeped and as they begged for his healing aid, Siegfried resolved to first stop Lungenrath. He took chase.

Here was an old tyrant on a desperate getaway. Here was a failed king with no army and no land left to him. He had been reduced to just an angry man with a sword. He was no longer the evil killer he once was. He had become the architect of his own demise. He was already finished.

When Siegfried slayed him, he returned to his friends' side to enjoy the spoils of victory, but by then it was too late and he had no one to share his peace with.