Bardoon

Hmpph...Be on your way then? It’s rest I’ll return to, though in these times sleep oft proves uneasy.

One prefers its mind not be pried. Is rather unsettling. Rather invasive.

Ohrm... Tiny thing. You climb high. Seek then knowledge of these lands?

This ashen place is grave of Wyrm. Once told, it came to die. But what is death for that ancient being? More transformation methinks.

This failed kingdom is product of the being spawned from that event.

Tiny thing... Oh hmm... The mark of Wyrm you bear. Is it change you seek? Or to save this ruin?

That choice is yours. Always the smallest creatures that attempts the largest things.

Don’t mistake. I am not a wyrm... Ohrm... Too small, I am. Too many limbs. No foresight like those old things.

For quiet retreat did I climb up here, away from spitting creatures. Ormmph... Yes. High up. Away from simple minds, lost to light.

Theirs is a different kind of unity. Rejection of the Wyrm’s attempt at order.

I resist the light’s allure. Union it may offer, but also a mind bereft of thought... To instinct alone a bug is reduced...Hrrm...

Ohhhmmmm... Tiny thing... It evolves beyond that Wyrm. Such union in a single being. A strength before unseen. Would it too challenge nature? It could perhaps defeat it.

This falling ash is moult. The Wyrm’s corpse decaying. Endless. Rmm... Serene. Sad.

With its like gone, the world is smaller.

Is it you bothering about my tail? Rest is somewhat disturbed, but I find that sensation not unpleasant..Ohr..Ohr...Ohrmm.