Arabine couldn't help having a confident smile on his face as he entered the courtyard of Charlock Castle.  The dark voyage to the lair of the evil Dragonlord had actually been almost fun. It was the battle with the Red Dragon that did it, he thought. It wasn't often you could approach a fearsome dragon and give it a good spanking.

    He enjoyed the feeling of power that flowed through his veins - or was that just his blood heating up?  He loved the rush that came with punching an Armored Knight in the nose.  Arabine had become a warrior as well as a magician, and his mere presence sent Stonemen shivering into their hellish graves.  The sight of his muscles made Werewolves and Wizards alike quiver in their well-worn boots.  He wondered what the Dragonlord would do once he showed up, looking like the quintessential legendary hero.  Probably ask me if I want to help take over the world.

    Holding the brilliant Ball of Light, he meandered his way through the winding passage leading to the Dragonlord's chamber. A couple of dragons tried to assault him, and he blithely knocked their heads together and threw them into a wall, leaving twin dragon-shaped indentations in the crumbling bricks.  A yellow-caped Wizard scurried off into the distance, his glowing eyes tinged with fear.  Saffron is definitely that guy's color, Arabine mused thoughtfully, taking a pouch of smelly herbs from his pocket and tearing it open with his teeth.  After one whiff of mugwort and mandoragora, he hurled the leaves behind him, choking on their repulsive odor.

    "If that's medicine, I'd hate to be poisoned," muttered Arabine to himself.

    Still shaking his head in a vain attempt to forget the pungent stench of the Medical Herbs, he walked into the chamber of the Dragonlord, only to see a surprisingly inept-looking man sprawling on a velvet-covered throne.  "Who goes there?" the man in the throne asked lethargically, sounding rather indifferent as to the identity of the intruder.

    "I am Arabine, descendant of the legendary Erdrick," he said.  That oughta just about do it, though Arabine.  For added effect, he continued, "And I plan to restore this world to its original peace and light."  Yadda yadda yadda, you get the point.  Arabine was tired of making heroic "thwart the villain" speeches.  All he wanted was to bump off the silly Dragonlord so he could get home to his wife, their 2.3 children, and the cute little mutt he'd found in a back alley in Cantlin.

    "That's nice."  The man yawned, stretched and slowly stood up to face Arabine.  "I'll give you one last chance to join me in my quest to take over the world."

    Arabine nodded slightly to himself - he'd seen that coming.  He also saw that in a matter of moments, the man would be dead.   "Um," said Arabine.  "No."

    "Suit yourself," said the other man, drawing his sword rather indifferently.  "Prepare to die, or something," he murmured in a bored monotone.

    "Yeah, okay," replied Arabine, unsheathing a gleaming, silvery blade.  There were ancient carvings on it which translated to "Erdrick's Mystikal Sword.  Don't Touch."  A fearsome grin came to Arabine's face as the sword began to emit an evil-looking greenish aura.  "They said I needed this to kill you, but after seeing you in person, I really don't think I needed to go to all that trouble," said our hero snidely.

    The incredibly evil villain shrugged and prepared to cast a spell.  Arabine chuckled.  Why did they always have to be so obvious about spellcasting?  Arabine had peformed enough incantations in his life to know that it was always best to keep the enemy off guard rather than alert him to the perfect opportunity to polish up his magic countering skills.  What is the point of waving your arms around, anyway?  It just makes you a more obvious target.  Arabine could even tell what the spell would be before it was hurled at him - something fiery, that was blatantly apparent - and got his sword in position to reflect the magical energy.

    Sure enough, the flames crackled forth from the man's fingertips and flew towards Arabine.  The villain's eyes widened as Arabine drew the fire into a small sphere of pure energy with his sword, then launched it back.  "That's...not...in...the... game..." he moaned, crumpling to the ground under the sheer pain of his burns.  He twitched a little, his body so blistered and raw that it hurt to look upon him, then finally surrendered to death.

    "I guess that's that," said Arabine.  "He didn't put up much of a fight though; at least not a good one."

    Arabine waited a moment for peace and light to be restored to the world, then realized it wasn't going to be happening just yet.  "Oh... True Form rule...the final boss always has more than one form.  Right." Just as this reflection upon the clichès of saving the world came to Arabine, a shadow passed over him, plunging the room into darkness.

    Arabine said a word to himself, and the room was alight once again with the brilliance of a hundred torches.  Arabine looked above him and saw the glittering golden belly of an immense dragon.  "There he is!" an oddly familiar voice said from above.  The dragon glided into the courtyard of Charlock Castle and landed a couple of feet away from Arabine.  The first thing Arabine noticed, however, was the woman seated upon the dragon's scaly back.

    "Shaunlea?"

    The woman with the glimmering auburn hair glared down at Arabine.  "Don't think I don't know what's been going on, Arabine."

    "What are you talking about, honey?" Arabine asked Shaunlea, amazed as ever that such a glorious example of womanhood would consent to be his.  He just wished that he knew what she was talking about.

    "Don't play the fool with me, Arabine.  I can see right through it.  I may think you're an idiot right now, but I know you're not stupid."  Shaunlea tried to smile, but broke into a bitter laugh.  "I know all about that princess of yours...what's her name...Gwaelin."

    Arabine felt a wave of nausea pass through him. He had been obligated to save that spoiled princess, and it certainly wasn't his fault that she had some silly crush on him.  What was he supposed to tell Gwaelin, that he already had a wife and saw nothing whatsoever in a naïve princess such as herself?  She would never have accepted that, to say nothing of her father, and in fact the entire court at Tantegel.  There were already no less than forty-seven meddlesome women hard at work designing wedding gowns, and Arabine thought he'd caught a glimpse of a vaguely swan-like ice sculpture stashed away behind the House of Healing.

    As if it were all a movie and this was marked out in a script, Gwaelin strolled in at that very moment.  "Arabine!" she squealed joyously, gliding over to him - because running would have been unladylike - and engulfing him in a hug.  "My love will help you to defeat the Dragonlord!  Dost thou love me, Arabine?"

    "Um," said Arabine, feeling Shaunlea's vengeful eyes upon him.  "Uh...not especially...I mean, I like you just fine, but I've got my wife and family to think of..."

    "But thou must!" exclaimed Gwaelin, a spoiled-princess pout coming to her pink lips.  "I said:  Dost thou love me, Arabine?"

    The Dragonlord, meanwhile, was getting a big kick out of all this.  "At this point, I don't know what would be worse for the descendant of Erdrick - just killing him off now, or letting him put up with this for a few years," he murmured in his raspy, draconic voice. "I'll just wait it out for a while.  Maybe I should sell tickets..."

    Arabine's eyes filled with hopelessness as he looked up at Shaunlea guiltily.  Gwaelin had wrapped herself conveniently around Arabine, a smug look on her young face.  "You must love me," she said quietly.  "I have come to help you defeat the Dragonlord, if you will agree to love me."

    Shaunlea's eyes narrowed, exuding hatred for the remarkably silly princess.  Arabine left for just a couple of months,and his heart had already been stolen away...well, she'd show him. "Ahem...attention, Arabine!"  He nodded slightly and craned his neck to see past Gwaelin's tiara.  "You're going to have to make a choice here.  It's her or me...and you don't want to see my reaction if it's her."

    Gwaelin looked up at the woman on the dragon's back. "Hey!" she protested.  "Nobody told me I'd have to help you fight a witch, too!  You'd better tell me you love me if you want to get out of this alive, Arabine!"

    Arabine struggled to break free of Gwaelin's deathgrip, then headed towards the Dragonlord.  "Shaunlea, come down from there so I can talk to you," he said, extending his hand towards her.  Shaunlea smiled, believing that Arabine had finally come to his senses, and clambered down from the dragon's back.

    A stricken look came over Gwaelin's face as Arabine helped Shaunlea down from her perch on the Dragonlord's back.  As Shaunlea reached the ground, the princess lunged at her like a rabid Wolflord. "Trying to steal my fiancè, are you?" she demanded, engaging in the typical pulling of hair and slapping that exemplifies any catfight. "I'll teach you to mess with the princess of Tantegel, you witch!"

    "What do you think you're doing, you little whore?" Shaunlea hollered, getting in a couple of good punches.  "You're trying to steal my husband, for Rubiss' sake!"

    The two prospective lovers of Arabine wrestled on the floor, it becoming increasingly difficult to tell who had the upper hand.  Arabine watched them silently - from a distance, of course - trying not to be flattered that they were fighting over him, then finally turned to the Dragonlord with a tired look on his face.  "You need a new lackey?"