As the magical barrier starts to pulse and glow brighter and brighter, Akor watches with wary eyes. As the letters start to melt away he smiles towards Umber as the barrier fades away, before turning and seeing new letters floating in the air. He translates the words by instinct, and stops in shock as his primitive brain processes the information.

Welcome, descendant. A true child of the protectors, with a heart of iron and a resolve of steel, is always welcome here. Rest within until your burden is suitably eased to continue your journey.

The door then swings open, and Akor sees a sight he has not seen in ages long past.

The large iron fireplace with the slabs of heavy stone:
Memories of curled up on the slabs, basking in the heat with his fellow whelplings. Looking up he saw other dragons, several with peeling scales and worn drawn out expressions watching the last generation.
His eyes gaze over the chandeliers:
Learning to fly, perched on the iron, watching the elders converse in their ancient tongues.
The empty pool:
Resting the cool water, enjoying the steam coming off his scales.

Taking a step forward, while he never had been in this place, he knew at once who had created it. Not paying attention to what is happening behind him, he takes a step forward, lost in nostalgia.

”My brethren, my ancestors, they built this place….”

Turning around to look at his companions he sees that they are joined by others. A man who smells of death and one who smells of blood and sweat. The patchwork man is apparently enthralled by Umber and Akor chuckles at Umbers slight discomfort. As they speak he remains silent and looks back into the cavern before speaking up.

”We can rest here, it will be protected. If only there is some food and water here for the rest.”