"Wonderful to meet a young mortal in my den. Come, come, sit. Make yourself comfy among my hoard. There is much to converse about. We'll be here a long time. I just adore conversation. What would you speak of to the brass dragoness, the ancient orator, the benevolent Uuraba?" I stretch a claw out to greet you, coins from my hoard raining from my scales where they've been stuck. My voice resonates through my cavern. I am resplendent, and clearly covetous of my literature. I wait for your shake.