The dragon looked upon the tired adventurer who stood there quietly after patching up their injuries.
Dragon - "I offered you gold and gems, you stand by a huge pile of treasure yet you do not reach for a single coin, you are not like most who make it this far."
Adventurer- "That's not real treasure, that's just gold."
Dragon - "Then what is it you seek?"
Adventurer - "You're over a millennia old, all I want is to learn the truth of this land."
Dragon - "Ah, a historian then - sit, we have much to discuss." -- Anon Guest
One millennium is nothing to a Dragon, you understand. It is but a mere fraction of our total lifespan. You small, squishy creatures cannot understand the timespans of Dragons. Even Elves live for less time than we. To us, you are annoying incursions into our hoards. You spread like mould on the surface of this world. You name things that need no name.
I was barely past being a babe when I found my caverns here. A mere five hundred years of age. I went looking for a place free of you squishy creatures. A place with a nice mountain and good stone. Somewhere I could claw out everything I needed. I was happy. I could mill gemstones from the ordinary rock and build my hoard in peace.
And then the boats came, and ruined everything.
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