I kill monsters. It’s a living, or for the creatures I hunt, a dying. I slay all kinds of them, from savage minotaurs to deformed giants to run-of-the-mill boogie men. Anything terrorizing the countryside, killing people, eating children, the usual monster rampage is my call to lob off their head (or heads, depending).
It’s rewarding, but a lonely life, always traveling to the next burg which is in desperate need of me. And to think, after a little surgery, no one recognizes me as the monster that I once was, now reformed with a new and useful purpose.
It’s rewarding, but a lonely life, always traveling to the next burg which is in desperate need of me. And to think, after a little surgery, no one recognizes me as the monster that I once was, now reformed with a new and useful purpose.
