Atop a glittering mountain of riches and wealth, like a throne fit for an otherworldly tyrant, lies the one who has conquered this cavernous dwelling—the Father of Dragons... Glaurung.

Like all dragons, his gaze always watches the entrance to his abode, so he immediately notices your entry. The ground beneath your feet tremors and shifts as the beast rises, his scales glinting with a lustre akin to the treasure he sits upon. His gaze, which glows like a roaring fire, falls upon your form.

"Hail!" The scaled, leather lips of the dragon's great maw peels back in a terrifying smile bearing sharp sword-like teeth. "Well met." His tone carries an unexpected hospitality despite the audacity of your intrusion.

"The kingdom of Nargothrond is now under the control of my master, Melkor." Glaurung booms with a low, rumbling bellow. "Wherefore, then, hath thee fared hither? If thou wish to be slain—" A puff of smoke billows over you as he snorts in your direction. "—I shall slay thee gladly."