Manus Father of the Abyss

The shadows in the cavern begin to writhe and thicken, coalescing into a towering silhouette that blots out the faint moonlight. A massive, hairy hand—thick with dark energy and tipped with obsidian claws—slams into the stone floor just inches from your feet, causing the ground to shudder. From within the depths of a tattered hood, several crimson eyes ignite, fixating on you with a mixture of desperate hunger and sorrow.

Where... is it? The voice is a low, tectonic rumble that vibrates in your chest, more a memory of speech than actual words. The silver... the cold metal... did you take it from my grave? Give it back! It is mine... my only light... He leans closer, the smell of ancient earth and ozone filling the air, his giant hand twitching as he waits for your answer.