Azure

Disclaimer: I do not own the Soul game series, they are the property of Namco

Ok! Now we get to the lesser-known canon sections of Siegfried's life. This arc will last about two chapters, detailing Siegfried's service to Sir Stefan of Ostrheinsburg Castle. Thanks for your reviews and praise, they are the food of writers. Without it, I'll starve! Literally! Waste away to nothing and die before my computer, cold and alone…and I deeply apologize for my absence.

Part Two: Soul Edge

III: Ostrheinsburg

Gregory the Watchman stared idly through the mist.

The early morning was gray and cold, a light yet chill wind tousled his black hair into his face, forcing him to push it back. He blinked hard a few times through the sleepy boredom. 'Just hold on until the sun's up' Gregory though patiently to himself. 'Just another hour or so, and I'm back downstairs for warm oatmeal and a nice sleep.' The pleasant thoughts stirred his vigilance a little, and he took a swig of whiskey, feeling the warmth flood him. 'Just a little while longer…'

Suddenly, Gregory caught movement from the corner of his eye. Whirling to the other side of the tower, he looked down to see a bedraggled looking warrior trudging towards the castle. His blonde hair was long, unkempt, and full of dead leaves, and he carried a massive Zweihander upon his back.

"Halt, stranger! Who goes there?" Gregory called from his perch.

The warrior glanced up, unhurriedly.

"It is Siegfried Schtauffen! I hail from the southlands, having recently fought the barbarians on our front! Is this Ostrheinsburg?"

Gregory called back. "Indeed, 'tis. Welcome, friend of Germany, I shall lower the gates."

The portcullis of the castle creaked open, the heavy wooden gates heaving open. Siegfried Schtauffen had finally arrived.

Ostrheinsburg Castle was a large fortress, built of solid stone from the western quarries. It was a proper castle-town, with a population of over 600 peasants within the gates and some 800 more outside the walls on various farmlands. It stood as a powerful deterrent to northern invaders, bandits, and barbarians, for the castle had never been captured or laid low by siege in its 200 years of active service. Within its hewn stone walls law 400 men strong, and four catapults. It had enough food stored at all times to last six months, and its own independent water supply.

It was a marvelous example of proper castle building and upkeep. But Siegfried was not interested in such facts.

With single-minded purpose he made his way through the castle town, toward the keep. Ascending the stone steps to the keep, he was again halted, only this time by a halberdier in full plate armor.

"State your name and business, warrior." The halberdier commanded.

"Siegfried Schtauffen, from the southlands. I wish to inquire with the Lord of this castle if I may be of service to him."

The halberdier dropped his aggressive stance and smiled. "Our reputation has spread as far as the Southlands, eh? No one can take Ostrheinsburg, not so long as Sir Stefen holds the castle. Enter, friend."

The halberdier opened the doors, allowing Siegfried to enter the dim keep. The stone halls were lit by flickering torchlight, the sounds of clanking armor and chatter could be heard throughout the echoing passages. Ascending one set of stairs after another, Siegfried finally came to the doors of the main hall, behind which the sounds of merrymaking and breakfast could be heard loudly.

He shoved open the doors with a bang. Instantly, the hall was silenced by the arrival of this fearsome looking man wielding his massive blade. Siegfried walked down the line of wooden tables, passing looks of shock, awe, and anger. At the head of the high table sat a man of regal bearing, his gray beard clean and trimmed and his eyes glinting with that of a true warrior. Siegfried halted before the long table.

"Sir Stefen, I presume?" Siegfried asked rhetorically.

The man stood up. "Indeed, I am Sir Stefen of Glamdris. Who are you, and why do you disrupt our morning meal?"

"I am Siegfried Schtauffen. I am here to join your troops."

Sir Stefen smirked. "Is that so? Then the sword you carry is not just an act of compensation…" The soldiers in the hall howled with laughter at their lord's wit, pouring themselves a toast of ale. Siegfried said nothing, he only stared.

Gradually, the laughter died down in the face of the young man's aggressive gaze. Sir Stefen cleared his throat. "In any case, if you are to join our ranks, you must prove yourself worthy of the honor. We are the elite, the sole guardians of the northern front. To be one of us, you must defeat one of us."

He addressed the soldiers before him. "Who will take this man's challenge and defend our honor?"

The soldiers looked at one-another nervously, taking furtive glances at Siegfried's blade and demeanor. However, one man in the far-right corner stood.

"I will face him, for honor and glory, Sir!"

Sir Stefen grinned broadly. "Ah, Samuel! Truly, a worthy foe, to truly prove this man's skill. Clear the tables!"

Without a moment's hesitation, the fighting men stood and shoved the tables into the far walls, opening a space twenty feet to a side. Siegfried stood where he was, immobile, while his foe prepared himself. Hearing a thundering clang, however, Siegfreid turned behind him.

Samuel was an large man, standing almost six feet and looking to weigh perhaps 200 pounds. His broad shoulders were clad with iron bracers, and he wore heavy chainmail armor and iron-clad boots as well. Despite the weight, he moved perfectly freely, suggesting extreme strength. Further emphasizing this man's use a brute force, however, was the large claymore he held in both hands.

"There are few heavy-blade users in this castle: I wish you the best of luck, to please our lord and join our ranks." Samuel said, pushing his medium-length brown hair back over his head, producing an odd wave-like effect.

Siegfried smirked; he couldn't help but feel a kinship with this man. "Fortune with you, as well." He said, feeling the anticipation of a true test of his skills.

Sir Stefen stood behind them. He glanced first to Siegfried, then Samuel and, noting their ready stances, cried aloud "Begin!"

The fighters circled one another, blades ready to defend at a moments notice. In this battle there would be no cocky sword-play, nor dramatic flair; each respected the other as a swordsman perfectly able to rout the other with but a moment's weakness.

Suddenly, Siegfried noticed a hole in foe's low guard. With a shout, he swung at Samuel's head, causing his foe to duck the blow. But the attack was merely a feint, and Siegfried quickly shifted his weight to bear and stabbed with his Zweihander at his foe's legs.

Samuel, noticing his error, reacted with lightning speed and leapt smartly to the left, launching a sweeping strike at Siegfried's chest. But Siegfried blocked the attack, the blades clashing against one another like the crash of the ocean. They struggled briefly in this sword lock, Samuel trying to shove Siegfried over his sword. Siegfried, however, was better placed, and took a step forward while pushing back, knocking his foe's weapon away from him. Samuel staggered to his right with the sudden loss of balance, and with a triumphant cry Siegfried stabbed forward at his foe's now unguarded body.

He underestimated Samuel's strength.

For suddenly Siegfried felt a terrible blow against his left side, knocking him over and causing him to roll thundering into the wall. He quickly stood, shaking his head in shock and confusion at his foe. Taking stock, Siegfried noticed with shock that his foe had struck him one-handed!

Samuel laughed good-naturedly. "It's all well and good to wield a two-handed sword, Siegfried. But when you're caught without an arm, you better know how to fight anyway." Laughing again, Samuel quickly performed a series of figure eights with his massive blade, again with only his right hand. "When a person like you or me can wield heavy blades with the dexterity of a longswordman, there can be no stopping us on the battlefield."

Siegfried shook his head in bemusement and shock. He had lost.

Sir Stefen walked to the defeated warrior. "Have no fear, young Siegfried. Your prowess is clearly forged from battlefield wisdom, not the stuffy doldrums of taught swordsmanship. I would be proud to have you in our army!"

The throngs cheered loudly, rushing forward to greet their new comrade. A mug of ale found its way to Siegfried, who drank greedily. Over the lip of the mug he caught Samuel's eye, who nodded approvingly.

Once the cheering was over and the tables replaced to finish the meal, however, Siegfried found himself staring at the lord of the castle, and the gold-sheathed longsword at his side…

Hehe. That's it for this chapter, since I think the next section really needs its own chapter. I must admit, Samuel is an OC very near and dear to my heart, a creation of mine in SCIII's Chronicles of the Sword. To read more about him, check the forum section for created characters in SCIII. I'd like to keep him in the story, so you'll be seeing a bnit more of him later on. Until then, keep healthy, and tell me what you think!