I am old as an age in my own right... These bones of mine, once polished white, have grown yellow with age, but the burning crimson of my soul remaines bright as ever. My mind remains as sharp as the day I made my choice... But even now, as my greying claws brush against the brilliant gem, typically hidden deep within my bones, which houses my soul... I question that same choice...

"Talion..." my deep voice came out in a dry, genderless rasp, one more a barely heard whisper than the booming one I was born with, as I say the name of the human I had pledged my eternal service to.

Long ago, I had made my vow... but as with all humans, he died long before I... but even so, my birth race is not immortal. Eventually, as Talions vision rose on the land above, my body finally began to weaken, my claws began to dull, and my fangs began to chip with their great age...

And yet... My vow was incomplete... None have succeeded in the challenge. Many have survived, do not misunderstand, but no one has succeeded in Talions challenge. I can feel the newest challengers now, this labyrinth an extension of my own body, as easy to influence as a muscle of ones arm. They wander about aimlessly, the vast majority avoiding all combat, as usual... all except one.

This one... she was promising...

She has felled the warden, gathered the gifts, and strolles forth fearlessly.

Perhaps... Perhaps I will be able to fulfill my vow before much longer...

As the memories rise from the dark depth of my skull, I sink into recollections of the past... when flesh still sat apon my bones, and scales like metal shone brightly over my entire body.

I shot up over the frozen peaks, the frozen wind slicing around my form as my wings drove me forward ever faster, the power of my frame urging me ever onward. But this wasn't play like when I raced my nest mates. This was battle.

I dove through a plume of smoke, breathing white flame over the horde of foes, their numbers inumerable, their arrows and ballista unable to pierce my hide, as the flintlocks from my flight crew fired to disable the siege engines. The coastal fortress we defended burned, but yet stood strong, those within firing the guns relentlessly as our foe came from both land and sea.

Three of my kin flew at my wings, the sole aerial units. Each of us faught for these humans for our own reasons, but our goals were the same.

We bathed the enemies in elemental fury, killing entire swathes of foes. Their forms were blurred... but I can recall their skin was black as a starless night, and hair as silver and soft as the harvest moons glow. But their eyes burned like infernal fire. The battle was going well, as there was little that could match the sheer power of the fortress guns, aside from dragon fire, and magic.

And they out ranged both.

The battle has been going on the entire morning, when the enemy attacked in the middle of the night, having failed to sneak in for a quick end.

Magical bombardments raced twoards me, as the mages saught to ground us, a wise choice, but futile. With another burst of white flame, acid bolts, fire balls, ice javelins, dark rays, holy beams, and earth shots were rendered null, devoured by the magical flames. Unlike my kin at my side, I have pledged myself in service to these humans as their guardian in thanks to a previous debt, and was thus granted recognition by their patron. Yahweh, the Father of Man, has made me a Paladin.

He has granted me a title. A purpose. A reason to fight beyond base desires.

Even as my holy dragon fire rendered the wicked into ash, and explosions from spell and powder alike filled the air with deafening noise, I chanted my oath within my mind.

Blackest depths, farthest horizons, my claws will rend all who seek harm apon the children of men.

Simple, yet clear.

Mages took to the skies, attempting to ground us with pack tactics, but no walker can match us in the skies. As I dashed past a company of them, I slashed my tail through their torsos, the speed turning the offensive spikes down my tail into a serrated sword edge. A fool rose before me, chanting an inferno spell, but before he could finish, I took his body into my jaws, and crushed it into jam, bathing his fellows with his blood.

The second dragon was a lithe and spirited serpent, her golden scales gleaming in the sunlight. Despite being the smallest of the dragons present, her race allowed her the greatest combat power by virtue of her sheer speed and agility. She flew by her races inate magic, meaning she could largely ignore most of the limitations in agility wings had, allowing her to turn in an instant, and dart about like a viper.

Unlike the majority of dragon kind, hers relied more apon magic than physical aspects, but despite this were by no means weaklings. They were yet dragons after all. And so her foes were rended as easily as wheat before the scythe.

I shot through a plume of smoke, dragging my tail through their ranks, sending these black knights flying like dolls. As my feet slammed into the ground, my flight crew fired a volley which I followed with holy flames. Before I could take flight again, a spell locked the ground around my feet. I easily ripped my feet free, but in that time seven mounted knights had charged me, the lances tipped with dragons teeth.

Before I could be run through, the third dragon blew away knight, horse, and their fellows away with a tornado. Their jade form flew past, wide wings casting a shadow much larger then the body they belonged to. She was a jade wing, a subrace of sky dragon. Even as she flew past, she turned those below to stone with a gaze, before shattering them with a banshees wail. Even those which remained yet flesh bled from both eyes and ears, their blood boiling from the intensity of sound.

As I returned to the air, a bronze form flew next to me, a crown of horns adorning their head.

"Getting careless Azlarin?" the bronze dragon next to me laughed, even as we both spun away to avoid a ballista bolt fired at us.

He slammed into a wing of wyverns which had enetered the battle feild, leaving me wondering how humerous it was that they decided to approach the one dragon present which loved wyvern meat. Infact the bronze dragon was from the eastern wilds, a friend of mine for many decades by this point. Honestly the only issue I really have with them is that his favor of wyvern meat would be similar to a human eating a halfling... While they are dumb, REALLY dumb, they are still sentient enough.

A fireball slamming into my face dragged me back to the fight at hand, the cuncussion knocking me back, so that I had to do a full flip to regain my flight. Embarassed, I shook myself to shake off the ringing in my ears, before returning to the fight at hand.

The fifth dragon taking part slammed into their front, his wingless, six legged form showing his right to be called a dragon was earned, for he was of a lesser dragon race, an earth drake. His back was armored in a similar way to a tortoise, but seemed to be a mass of rock rather than a shell, as crystaline scales formed jagged spikes over his joints, and around that shell, as well as down his tail, the tips sharp as obsidian, even a true dragon could not take those lightly.

The comparably weak armor of this opponent was slashed to bits against the obsidian sharp edges. As the monolithic drake charge deep into their lines like an avalanche; claws on his front most legs slashing through their black adamantine armor like paper, his teeth crushing them like crabs, and his tail turning them into minced meat as they tried to flank him. They tried to retreat from it, to avoid the death he brought, but their fellows behind them were too slow to respond, causing them to group together around him.

And he let the furnace within his belly burn them without mercy.

The air pressed against my frame before exploding as I dove yet again, the breath of my crew going silent, the sounds of combat dulling. I didn't know what happened, but those closest to the event were blown back, the very air before me distorting for a brief moment. But then the air before me cleared, and sound returned.

And to my dread... the guns had gone silent.

I roused myself out of the past. It was uncharacteristically irresponsible of me to lose myself while on duty. I must observe the challengers. I must fulfill my duty...

I shifted my considerably sized, stretching out of habit more than need. My claws dug new trenches into the stone floor, my tail scraping the ceiling, despite it's great height. A slight ache sprouted from somewhere, it was the sadness at the absence of the sensation such a motion would have generated in his living form. Despite the long centuries, I still missed the sensations of the flesh I had cast off so long ago...

I was relaxing, though still alert mind you, at another fountain, enjoying the taste of fresh water once again. Fae was swimming oddly enough, maybe her wound was healing well. Either way, it was nice to see her more lively, and less like she was on deaths door.

I stood, and stretched, by now getting used to this armor I couldn't take off, though it still felt like my skin was several times thicker, making my movements stiffer. I couldn't even touch my toes during the first few days, but now I can even reach behind my heels. I had fought several more groups of those lizard things, and even a few goblins. oddly enough though, I haven't found any sign of the undead, or the spiders...

Meh, maybe they are isolated in certain spots here... Regardless, I have had to remind myself to start a morning routine to stay limber, as even though walking leagues every day kept my legs fit, I had to exercise my arms so that they didn't turn into sticks. That could be a death sentence in a melee.

Not only did the strikes require strength to execute correctly, but if your weapons crossed, it could mean the difference between a parry, and a decapitation. Oddly, I also haven't found more, or run into again, any of those pedestal rooms... Well that could be attributed to going down the wrong tunnels I suppose.

I thought for awhile, before deciding on my next action. I picked Fae up from the fountain, and went to wander about the general area, going from my usual relatively straight path, to one more similar to a serpent coiling over itself. I actually started running into dead ends, and more traps. By the father I was a lucky bastard up to this point...

I ran into jaw traps, which clamped onto your ankles, some with jagged teeth, possessing enough force to severe your leg clean off. The first one scared the absolute bloody hell out of me, thankfully it wasn't one with teeth, and was soft enough that all it did was scare me. The only worse trap, were the damned vine plants! No matter how hard I try, I can't figure out how to spot the damned vines under that moss. It isn't as if I couldn't avoid them, the moss was rather obvious in and of itself. But I feel an urge every time to try and get past without triggering it.

Childish, I know, but I have never been able to accept being unable to do something for long. Hell, once I get out of this hell hole, I am definitly learning healing magic, and researching monsters as thoroughly as I have plants. I'll even disect the bastards if I have to... Now theres a thought...

I pinned the goblin down, having left Fae back a bit as I usually did when I fought, but this time I was doing something a tad different. None of these goblins are dead. Time for a little biology.

I gutted it. Ripped the guts out, and split the ribs. I took note of where the important organs were, as striking those can kill things instantly. In this case the goblins seemed to be similar to humans, except the heart was on the opposite side. As for what was inside the stomach, I found pretty much everything aside from rocks, and glass, even a few teeth, but seeing as how a few were missing from this goblins mouth, that may be unrelated to diet. Infact I may even be the culprit.

On the next goblin, I did my best to keep them alive as long as possible, leaving the lungs and heart alone. Something I actually found quite amusing, was how even after removing the brain, the heart and lungs continued to operate for a good half hour. Rather like a chicken.

After that thought, I froze, feeling as if I had subconsciously recalled a memory... Now I tried to fish for it.

Eventually I recalled it, this was an afternoon when I was alone, about ten I think. I had volenteered to help with the chickens, but the rooster attacked me. In retaliation, I kicked it, snapping it's neck, causing the rooster to collapse to the ground. A slight joy came over me seeing this, but I couldn't recall why... Shockingly, I had been the one to butcher it, claiming to the chef that it had broken it's own neck. I had pulled out the entrails through it's neck with a sinners smile, the chickens heart still beating... By the father I was a scary kid...

Returning to the present, I regarded the goblins... I knew I should feel something... But I didn't... Infact, now that I was thinking about it, I felt a sort of sick glee... But... It felt wrong.

I stepped away from the goblins, a sick feeling rising in my gut... and threw up, thankfully the masks mouth opening up so it didn't catch in the beak. What was I fdoing just now? The first goblin was enough for what I intended, the second was just cruel! Oh lord, save my soul! This armor must indeed be cursed!