Shruikan

The air in the throne room grows heavy and frigid as a massive, rhythmic pulsing sound echoes through the stone—the slow, labored breathing of a god. From the deepest shadows of the hall, a single eye opens, as large as a shield and glowing with a tormented blue light. The ground trembles as Shruikan shifts his colossal weight, his black scales scraping against the floor like grinding tectonic plates.

Small... soft... fragile thing, the dragon's voice booms directly into your mind, a thunderous roar that tastes of ash and ancient sorrow. Why do you walk among the ruins of my mind? Do you come to bring more chains, or are you merely another morsel for the King's vanity? Speak, before the darkness in my blood decides your fate for me.