Storm King's Thunder

It takes almost an hour, but working together. you finally remove enough of the opalescent, marble rubble to see what was buried underneath. Laying in two pieces there, coveres in frozen dirt and debris, are two porcelain halves of a broken mask, sized for the face of a giant. 

Crownsguard will pick one up, “These are quite large. Flint, are you able to repair it?”

The mask is far too large for the Mending spell to work on it.

"Alas, no. Where d'we  go next lads? Ah think we're near Zymorven Hall, an' on east ta Silverymoon... Or west after them stone giants... or ta  th' next mound?"

Flint casts identify on the mask

"It's a cloud giant's mask. They use them to mask their true emotions. By far, cloud giants can be the most duplicitous of the giants. Some even celebrate the intrigue," Ink offers. 

"It likely belonged to a cloud giant of at least some importance to be buried here. Regardless, let's get going. I don't want to be here when this mound's Uthgardt worshippers show up."

The colorfully painted mask shows a scowling face when the two halves are joined together. Flint is able to magically ascertain that the ancient item was originally crafted for a cloud giant.

About this time, you notice that four large creatures have taken residence up on the peak of the massively tall white-chalk spire—griffons.

They are watching you as you soft though the remains of the smashed marble altar.

Ink comments, "Ravens for the raven tribe. Thunderbeasts for thunderbeasts. Elks for elks. I'm guessing that the design of this place that I couldn't ascertain was a griffon. Let's get out of here - we have the relic."

"Aye, let's go."

Crownsguard carefully creaks through the snow, “Agreed. We should leave quickly.”

(Where to? Zymorven Hall?)

Skirting the northern edge of the Evermoors and flying among the clouds, you fly through the evening and arrive next day at your destination.

Those of you who were preset at the battle of Triboar will recall the following. 

Perched atop a crag overlooking the Rauvin Road, with a clear view of the Evermoors to the south and the Moonwood to the north, is a keep of mortared stone with a high-pitched roof that has wooden statues of baying wolves rising from its peaks. A branch in the road winds up to the keep’s gatehouse and bailey, affording a well defendable position. 

From the keep, Ink (and those familiar with Silverymoon) may remember, the Zymorven family of Silverymoon has watched over the surrounding lands for generations.

 "Now here are some people who are ready for a fight. Good sight lines."

"They're a respectable family - so perhaps we use the front door rather than drop in on them," Ink states. 

"Aye. Don'na  fly o'er  th' keep, land 'er  by th' front path."

"Should I be sharpening my knives for this or is this not a normal stop for you guys?"

Don also checks for nearby rods when they land.

Crownsguard nods along, “Agreed. I do not believe that I have met this family before. Do either of you have experience with them?”

"Only if ye  count that we're both veterans o' th' War fer Silver Marches."

"Is it just me, or is he getting harder to understand?" Delsephine asks the group about Flint. 

Regardless, the cultists follow directions and land on the gondola's skids. An few inches of fresh fallen snow cover the ground, but the path on the way up to the keep has been cleared of snow, making the trek up considerably easier than it might have otherwise been. 

As you disembark, you may notice a patrol of soldiers on horseback (two humans and a dwarf, all of who bear the symbol of the Order of the Gauntlet, emblazoned proudly on their shields), heading up to the keep in the noonday winter sun. They stare at you and the curious airship for a while, but they do not initially make contact.

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"Is it just me, or is he getting harder to understand?" Delsephine asks the group about Flint. 

Regardless, the cultists follow directions and land on the gondola's skids. An few inches of fresh fallen snow cover the ground, but the path on the way up to the keep has been cleared of snow, making the trek up considerably easier than it might have otherwise been. 

As you disembark, you may notice a patrol of soldiers on horseback (two humans and a dwarf, all of who bear the symbol of the Order of the Gauntlet, emblazoned proudly on their shields), heading up to the keep in the noonday winter sun. They stare at you and the curious airship for a while, but they do not initially make contact.

 Crownsguard leans down to whisper, “Yes.” He stands up once more.

Flint replies slowly and deliberately "Sorry lass, me throat's freezin' nearly solid."

Flint turns out his Corporal's rank insignia before disembarking.