Fear and sadness - The lowest combination. It just happened to be what I was feeling. I wish I could say I was an old man commiserating. It's a young man's curse though. I need to prove myself. I tried following the rules, but that's never enough. They don't want you to follow. The honest, hard working man is dead; killed by the piranhas who strike at weakness and with attrition break you down and feed off your flesh and bone while you are torn apart to nothing. I have nothing, but I survive. I am still here, left to suffer in a situation that seems hopelessly dire. I own nothing, for even my pain is owed to others.
Withering into dust, I have become a living skeleton, with torch and sword in hand, waiting to haunt. My life was filled with flagrant misdeeds, and my punishment is this. I find myself alone amongst the undead, watching as the gelatinous blob shambles by again, ranting about some such thing. There are no more heroes; no one who ventures into our subterranean lair. I pushed back too many times. My zealousness has provided little more than a mountain of skulls that chatter and scream in the darkness.