The Art of Mortal Manipulation

Ah, the games we immortals play. I’ve been watching over this mountain for 1665 years, and let me tell you, the entertainment never gets old. There’s something deliciously amusing about toying with mortals, letting their youthful enthusiasm lead them into believing they’ve accomplished something truly remarkable. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve feigned defeat, lying motionless as adventurers celebrate their supposed victory over the ancient dragon guardian.

But the real show begins when they start rummaging through my lair. Oh, the looks on their faces when they stumble upon some trinket or bauble! A rusty sword they’ll hail as the most legendary blade in all creation. A tarnished amulet that’s suddenly imbued with mystical powers. It’s almost too easy, and yet, I never tire of it. Their naivety is a balm to my eternal soul, a reminder that even after millennia, there’s still joy to be found in the simple things.

Of course, I always ensure their ‘victory’ is fleeting. A strategically timed tremor here, a burst of flame there, and they’re scrambling for the exit with their precious treasures clutched tightly in hand. And so another chapter in the never-ending saga of mortal hubris comes to a close. But don’t get me wrong - I do it all with a twinkle in my eye and a rumble in my chest that could almost be called affectionate. After all, what’s an immortal without someone to play with?