Asunder

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As you enter through an archway of cold, dark stone, a strong scent of parchment and the flicker of gentle flames greets you. The walls are adorned with odd scrolls containing writing you've never seen, and in the center of the room lies a desk carved of wood and stained with many inks. A dragon lies there, and despite his clear exhaustion he gestures something of a welcome at you with darkened talons. He was covered in dense fur that somehow glistened as gold, and dark runes blazed across his being. He points at a certain piece of parchment nailed to a pillar behind him with a rudimentary wing, emblazoned with letters you've never seen. They morph and change in front of your eyes, until you can completely glean their true meaning.
The beast before you is Asunder, and you will have to forgive my silence. I prefer to speak in runes of old rather than any spoken word.

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