Dungeons never forget, dungeons never stop watching, dungeons never stop learning, it is their very nature. As a means of growth, as a means of protection, as a means to retain sanity. The most successful dungeons are not the ones with the strongest monsters or the best traps, no the most successful dungeons are those dungeons with a good relationship with those outside their dungeon. My age is unimportant, my core irrelevant, my purpose defined. Ascension is a rare thing for dungeons, but every mortal being has the opportunity, Even if dungeons seem immortal, they live and die just like every mortal, just no core has ever reached the end of their life span. Just like every other being made of mana, dungeons are no different from them with their mortality, no mana equals death. Just dungeons have one advantage over those other creatures of mana. We produce our own in much greater quantities. Still, I have seen over ninety percent of my kin slaughtered within their first years of life. Our great advantage is our great weakness. Even the eldest of my kind had not lived a fragment of my lifespan. Perhaps, no it is for certainty, the reason why I lived to this stage is that I did not take the normal path of a dungeon. I never had the chance. Herewith my ramblings and memories I leave a record of my life as the god of warmth to the monster nation. May our enemies know we are forever out of their reach.

My first conscious thought was confusion. All cores are born blank slates, and I was no different. I was born in a cave in the mountains of what will eventually be called Devyl, on the south side of Tornil, and all around me were four-legged reptiles. The green and brown skins on them did not strike me as important, but one of the larger ones, an adult male actually, had what appeared as butterfly wings and a pair of short humanoid legs sticking out of its mouth. They were still kicking for more than a minute before a resounding crunch occurred then the reptile finished its meal. Then nothing.

Time is a funny thing, with no guidance and no directive, I was content with observing. The male that I first observed eating what I now know was meant to be my fairy, became strong and dominant in the collective. Sireing many clutches of eggs before his eventual passing of old age. The first change to the lizards was three generations later. The first began to walk on their hind legs instead of crawl along their belly. Two more generations and the appearance of language and tools began to be seen. This was the dawn of my people, the dragon nation of the south.

As I said before, I was content. I did not know about mana or diplomacy or rules or anything else. Ignorance is bliss as they say. I had no desire to be more than just the glowing stone warming the birthing chamber. Still, I had instincts, I had made a few traps, first leaving them open, before covering them up after a few days. My people quickly learned to pay attention to my generosity as a few, unlucky, ones fell for the traps. Back then the value of life was much less even if our numbers were under a hundred. That is when I learned killing them would make me stronger, much stronger. I had noticed them passing near me did as well, but not to the amount that directly killing them did, not by any semblance of a small margin. The death of one was almost as much as the passing of a single one over their lifetime. As if I take their future and make it my own.

The first time I was invaded was the closest I ever came to death. If not for one I would have. The day was like any other. I was silently observing the nest, most of the males were away on their hunt. One youthful male, old enough for the hunt as well, had come back the day before. He had brought back a new thing, fire. Not only did it warm the path through the cave it also produced light. However, the fire was short-lived. The wood burned on burnt out quickly after arrival. It was long enough however for me to observe the new phenomenon and become able to replicate and improve upon it. I set up this fire along the cave for my people and he was rewarded by the group with the first clutch of the female he had affection for. This is where he was when the invaders came. I had never been invaded before, so I could not know that the fire I made would aid the invaders, making my traps easily spotted and avoided. The guards that remained took down most, but one made it to the end. The invader was a man, almost five feet tall dressed in darkened skins of beasts I knew not they were. On its person were several blades and tools. Once they saw me a smile appeared on his lips as he drew one of the blades as many of the young and females looked upon the invader with wonder and fear. The bringer of fire, to be known as my chosen champion in future generations, stood up and squealed in his high pitched voice of youth and passion. The invader ignored him as he took his blade and threw it at me. If not for the male taking the blade in my place. That is why that one’s descendants have always held a special place for me. The females did not take too kindly to the attack on me nor the death of one of their own in the nest room. With the emergence of the remaining guards ambushing the invader from behind, no more deaths occurred.

The change happened quickly after that. We were shown we were not alone in the world. More and both stronger and more intelligent beings resided in striking distance to us. Tools became weapons. Structures became defenses. Individuality became jobs. And I was wanting to be part of this, making their first currency. Dungeon tokens other races call them. The coins are made for shops that are run by dungeons. I would grant every member of the race a set boon each day, with rewards for service. The guards get paid more than the blacksmith, but the blacksmith would get a bonus many times the daily amount for a good blade. These rewards would be used to get gear and supplies from me. Flush with so much mana, I never had an outlet for it all.

A golden age of growth began for us. Technique and training improved against the invader’s generation after generation. Our numbers boomed. That brought problems of their own. Greed, pride, betrayal. It was the rule of the time that the strongest would rule. Desiring to keep their position they started taking the coins from the weaker kin. The farmers could no longer buy seed for their crops, the blacksmiths could no longer get iron for weapons. Mothers could no longer get food for the children. By now I had seen dozens of generations pass. Never had I seen such a trend occur before. Something had to be done. None were strong enough to stop the tyrant, except for me. So for the first time, I made my conscious known to the others. The first thing I did was cut the rewards to the tyrant. By taking the others' rewards he was being selfish instead of working for the group. Next, I made it so even food was hard to be bought by the tyrant. For if others of us are going to suffer, I was not going to make it easy for the one deserving the punishment. Finally, when hunger and anger drove the lesser casts to rebel, killing many workers and warriors alike, I made myself known to them. With the tyrant death moments away my will appeared in all those present in the birth chamber, where he made his last stand.

For the good of the group

For the greatness of the core

For the continuation of the community

He threatened to disrupt the balance

He brought us to weakness to the outsiders

His end will be a lesson for the future

Even though my words only appeared on the screen that is used to trade the coins for goods, the effect brought me my first step into what I am today.

The time after the tyrant was harsh for a time. He was the leader and there was a fear brought about the loss of leadership. Invaders like the ones before had managed to break into the cave of mine several times. Yet none made it halfway. With recovery taking generations, our growth continued. One such growth was turning from a tribal community to a religious one. We also began to learn from the invaders. Learning to make their weapons was easy. Learning magic was more difficult. Learning faith, that was a challenge. During the battles, I had observed that certain invaders could heal them. It became paramount we eliminate those first. The class rogue, the same one that came close to ending me so long ago, was one of these. Traps, stealth, assassination, and so much more. If ever the rogues fail then the rangers would step up. Range was their forte. While many of the kin could use bows, we prefer the short invader's machine ones called crossbows. Less need to move our backs in strange motions. If they fail then we pull our warriors back while the tanks cover the retreat. In the end, it comes down to numbers and experience. The invaders seem to always come in groups in six, while we send patrols of ten. While the invaders only come once or twice every year. We always train, we always prepare, we are always ready.

Generations passed once again. The buildings outside the cave eventually became a town, and that town eventually became a city with other towns and villages surrounding it. Something I had not mentioned before now is that my dungeon powers seem to work outside my dungeon. The coins I give are considered pay to mercenary monsters, and the god of business and contracts forces the dungeon rules to be overridden. The same with my shop. With the tyrant before, he put his self-power over the protection of the community. A community that I rely on for my strength and protection. So cutting them off was allowed in the rules as punishment. However, what I will say I did next is more of a grey area. It was a time of nobles and commoners with my people. A time when the first dragonkin was starting to appear. The first one to appear was the cause of this conflict. She was born a lesser noble. As white as snow, she was when she hatched. A miracle of the next evolution of my people. For her protection, she was swiftly claimed by the church. For most of her youth, she spent in my cave, now a crude temple. She had no friends save a single orphan. His parents were lost during a rather unfortunate invasion, costing near half a dozen patrols before an expedition force of over a hundred was sent. Less than half of those made it back. Only he treated her more than a step to future generations. I found it cute. Their shenanigans and pranks. Perhaps this is why they fell in love. That young love that is so rare I find it precious. Then politics took over.

He was forced to become a warrior of the patrols. He was sent to die. He knew it, I knew it, she knew it, but he refused that to be his fate. While he fought for life in the furthest and most dangerous patrols, she was pampered and courted daily. It was clever of her for what she did. Long before he was sent away, the two had made a promise. Not a childlike promise, no this was a promise through me. A contract was formed between the two and I was the overseer. I had no reason to refuse her, and when her suitors found out about it when they tried to force a union on her, he was sent to die.

The youth eventually turned to adulthood. The boy became a man. The man is a warrior. The warrior is a champion. As for her, womanhood granted her more than a mature body. She learned ice magic and spent much of her free time as a scholar. It was when a high noble’s son made his move on her that set things in motion for the next step. Tired of her games of stalling, he foregone subtlety for force. After bribing her guards, the two of them were alone when he attacked her. She was half ready for it, as she managed to block his first strike, but she was off balance and his superior combat training and physical might overpowered her. If not for the protection I granted her for her agreement, then she would have claimed her own life before the deed was even finished. This put the noble in a very awkward position. A position that he ultimately bought his was out of with money. Then the challenge. Here I chose a side.

The champion looked at his battered gear and sighed. Several years had passed by the youth. Death and struggle were his normalcy. With only three silver one hundred coins on her person, he shook his head. He could buy a decent iron sword with the amount, but nothing else. Against a high noble, even if he could get a full replacement of iron goods, he knew he had no chance. The other was better trained, better groomed and a better pedigree. Still, he was not one to give up. He offered his meager wages to me and went looking for a decent sword. Instead of the box to show weapons, I spoke to him instead.

Young one, note this before I continue

I normally do not take sides

Only during a great threat do I intervene

Your challenger once attacked your mate, to claim her his

Only through your pack through me was I able to keep her innocence

This fight is more than just to claim her

This fight is about the future

If he succeeds, then strength will be lower to greed

If you should fail, a monarchy shall rise

Then I shall become more of a tool to be wielded

Yet, I can not aid you

Except to grant you what you deserve

Long ago a champion saved me

His blood runs through your veins

Rise my champion of fire

Born of hardship, forged with a promise of the future of all

Rise my champion of fire

Claim what is rightfully yours

The noble was meant to succeed, but he lacked two things to make it certain. The first is drive. While the noble had the drive, it was through greed. The champion only sought what was his by promise and by blood. Second, the noble lacked experience fighting. While strong of body and mind. As soon as his tricks were seen they were easily countered. This is the beginning of the noble dragonkin. Who value passion and duty over greed.

There are so many events I can talk about, I have witnessed them all. All the lives of my people. All the love and heartbreak. All the triumph and loss. But for all my care and worry. All my indifference and interventions. All my give and take. I never indulged. I never looked. I never believed. I was a floating crystal that warmed up a room. Nothing more and nothing less. That is till my theocracy was at the height of its power, at the end of the golden age. They demanded more from me. More than I ever meant to be. And as part of the whole, I tried to oblige them.

The core avatar, a physical representation of myself. When I first formed it my perspective was cut in two/ To be more accurate, my attention was across my entire domain, but the avatar became a solid focus for my attention. Making everything else duller and less concerning. When I appeared in front of the priests and other worshipers the murmurs of confusion and doubt became clear. After all, I rarely made myself known throughout history. It would be easy to see some nonbelievers, but I am real, and I am undeniable. The first to approach me was a maiden with robes for me to wear. A maiden in heat and I appeared youthful, but in prime, male. I was in a state of overblown sensations I had never experienced before. If not for the head priest breaking my mild focus on her, I might have taken her right then. Considering later might leave the possibility of uncertainty. I would have claimed her.

A tour was quickly arranged and I was led into the city. A boring endeavor as my influence covers it completely, even the nasty secrets kept out of the public eye. There are practices I condone because it is of a benefit to the collective. Such as child spartan training. Keeping the young orphans from turning to rogue entities had always been an issue, and training them to serve as soldiers was always acceptable. Forcing a future of service is far different than taking a future from one that had none, to begin with. Yet when we got to one particular noble’s home for some refreshment I blatantly made my way to the secret passage, opened it in front of the startled noble and family, and went down and freed the three children held there for torture and other amusements. I will say it now, I do not like those that abuse those meant to be in my service. They give their lives to be under my protection. I, in turn, grant them the protection they deserve as impartially as I can. If that means beginning a purge to remove corruption so future generations can prosper, then so be it.

I should mention more about the maiden I became attracted to as well. That night she broke her vow of celibacy for what I had done. Even though I was only going to be there for a single day. Perhaps that was the spark that changed me. Seeing the love and experiencing it are two different things. Passion, once found, can be an amazing drive. The temple was long overdue for an upgrade. And impressing a lady was a great motivation. Yet, there is a flaw with being me. Time passes differently for me than the others. Even with drive, it takes time for a dungeon to change, there are no quick-growing stone nor magic infusions to speed things up. By the time I was done, by the time I realized how much time had passed, I was nearly too late. My love had become ancient. The oldest to ever live. Bedridden and time running out I moved to her side and gently grabbed her hand. It took her a moment to realize who I was and let out a tear of joy and a smile of gratitude. That night she passed away, or rather her body. Not before however, I used my dungeon abilities to do something I should have long ago done.

The passing of the holy mother and her ascension to becoming a boss for me was a shock to the others. Never before had I granted a second life to the others, till I found love. And the love we did do. Mainly in the private chamber, I made for the two of us. But to the point, I made her a boss. The Eternal Mother of Warmth was her title now. Along with the holy attributes she fostered during her first lifetime, she gained a natural affinity for fire. She also began overseeing orphans and after a few generations, led the elite unit of paladins and inquisitors. So much so that indulgence and decadence cast upon the young and unable were reduced to more acceptable levels.

During this time the invaders had never been idle. In the beginning, their trips were rare, manageable, and useful. After each generation, which grew longer with every evolution of my people, so too did the invader’s frequency of encounters increase. As to their level of technology. We had long found the invaders originated on the other side of the mountains. Interrogations and less than pleasant questioning of prisoners brought the facts about what they seek. Many times mention of rule-breaking were said. I will state, a collective of weaker slaves of a race do not grant the right to decide for the rest of the race. I had never agreed to any accords, nor were invited to any parlay. Now, however, the time of small groups of invaders had come to an end. The end of the golden age had come. The age of war began.

And with all war, there is a mindless loss. To describe the skirmishes, then battles, then sieges, are all pointless. Generations of bloodshed, hundreds of attempts at assassination under the guise of peace talks, Millions dead because we defended what is ours and refused to yield our land and traditions. We could have continued another dozen generations with ease. We could have attacked them instead of always defending them. We could have always given up. But that is against my dungeon nature, and I have my pride as both the strongest and oldest dungeon. With the few wild dungeons I have managed to keep safe and their tribe of fairy defectors, we leave this dying rock to the fools that let greed and indulgence consume them. Because I respect and honor those that are naturally outside my dungeon. But make no mistake. I defend my own just as any other kin will. So while I cast my mortal crystal and ascend to godhood on a new world. I leave this record for my enemies. I am always watching, I am always learning, and I will never forget.