Tower Girls

Gergilius grasped his pike with both hands. In front of him was Vokmoth the Quick, sleeping on a hoard of jewels and coins. Gergilius had heard many tales of the black-green skinned six-legged semi-dragon. If he did this right, it would be the last.

He stepped slowly, carefully on the stone tiles. Each movement was deliberate, each breath taken carefully. His boots slowly raised over the chalices and metal strewn messily over the fallen castle's floor. The beast's chest expanded and sunk in an even rhythm. For such a young beast, he had caused so much mischief. Taking Castle Baelfiz, and keeping the princess as a hostage to ensure treasure and gifts were brought to him on a monthly basis.

The princess... he paused to think of her. His manhood swelled as he pictured her large, pale breasts. Her golden, curly locks. What kind of reward could he expect? He would be a hero throughout the realm. No longer a sellspear or a village militiaman.

He gazed at the dragon. From here, Gergilius could end the dragon's life with a single poke. But if he failed, he would more than likely be smote to flames, or devoured, or crushed, or picked up and tossed. Dragons were long lived, and even a semi-dragon was dangerous.

He waved his lance over his targets. Heart? Brain? Neck? He had to be certain, as there was no way he would be able to redo his action.