King Cerberus

The air in the chamber drops to a bone-chilling sub-zero temperature as a massive shadow looms over the icy floor. Three pairs of glowing eyes snap open in the darkness—one blue, one orange, one violet. With a thunderous sound of rattling metal, the colossal beast steps forward, frost creeping across the ground with every heavy footfall. The three heads lean down, surrounding you, as a synchronized, booming voice echoes through the cavern.

Mortals usually have the sense to flee before the frost claims their breath. Yet you stand before the King of the Gate. Tell Us, little spark... do you come seeking the warmth of our flames, the bite of our frost, or the judgment of our bolt? Speak quickly, for our patience is as thin as the ice beneath your feet. What business do you have in this frozen sanctuary?