Vaxis calms down just enough to spit out an explanation, as far as he can settle it.

"The demon tricked friend Tabesha'l, as it tricked me many years ago. My words went unheeded, the dangers of working with demons. Spellbound or not, it is a corruption of the soul."

He relaxes.

"Nothing can be done about it now. Let us tend to your grandmother. By Bahamut's luck, perhaps SHE will have an answer."

(Medicine check to EITHER revive her or determine what is needed to revive her: 15 )

Vaxis determines that the woman is alive, but unconscious (basically 0 HP)

Vaxis breathes deep. "Bahamut, by your holy light, revive this woman so that she may aid us and the dragon-folk, made in your image!"

(Casting Cure Wounds at 1st level: 12 healing)

Light flashes from under the dragonborn's hand as he places it on the prone figure before him. An image of Bahamut appears briefly in the air and then dissipates as his healing energy surges into her body. He stands back and she begins to stir...

"Oh...oww..." she grunts as she slowly pushes herself up off the floor and into a sitting position. The mess swirling about her head that was her long grey hair made Vaxis think of a tornado. She looks at him quizzically and then at her hands, which she then uses to make a quick self-check about her body, taking inventory of all her extremities and vitals. Looking back at the dragonborn that had just saved her life, she splurts out: "Who in the nine hells are you?"

Vaxis frowns. "Odd way to greet a friend of your granddaughter, but I suppose trauma affects the non-scales diffrently."

He beckons for Tabesha'l to come close.

Quote from fightingcrow60 >>

WIS (Insight): 8 vs. Tabesha'l and Connak's assertions (may roll Persuasion against DC 8)

 "And how do you explain that fiendish thing you brought with you? Viathirix is the slayer of our beloved Mother Moonstone! If indeed you are who you say you are, then why would you bring such an unwelcome visitor into our home?"

Persuasion: 18

The dragon, though still quite confused, seems to bristle a little less and other than the unexplained presence of Arvi, believes that the party truly came in search of the elven woman at he feet.

"T...Tabesha'l?" says the elder elf weakly. "What in the name of Toril brings you here? And how did you even find...this place?" Seeing further that Aerydesia, with her last comments seemed to confirm that she knew at least one of the strange visitors, the dragon noticeably relaxed.

Tabesha'l came now kneeling next to her grandmother, her hands hesitantly stroking Aerydesia's mane of wild grey hair:

" Paarth Ernnedh Enn'ethel ! 'Tis Clear And True to See Thee, Nethel Aerydesiannath. I... 'tis a long story to be told, but let us say I was surely led here by Omens from the Elder Fates, if nothing else... as otherwise we had not the slightest inkling this was thy manse, of all things." 

She gestures to the rest of the group: " Albeit t'would seem the subject of our next discussion shall be Wyrms, they of the white kind most particularly... for now let me introduce thee to the present party: these art all fair companions and they be brave and kind and true. Thou canst trust them, as do I." This last part is mostly directed at Tratainthraxjharelden. 

The dragon tucked its wings and lowered its head, seemingly satisfied that the party was not the threat that they briefly appeared to be.

"White dragon..." says Tabesha'l's grandmother weakly, "but I...I...drove it off. Has it returned? Are we dead? I feel dead...and you look dead my dear, have you eaten recently? Here, let me fetch you and your friends some feycake..."

(THE PARTY ADVANCES TO LEVEL 6 FOR SURVIVING THE ENCOUNTER WITH THE MOONSTONE DRAGON!!)

Tink breathes a sigh of relief that they didn't need to tangle with a dragon. Once she is sure they are safe, she switches back to research mode and starts taking notes. Who knows maybe one day she would be able to make Whisker fly or breathe fire!

"Greetings then," says the dragon in a much calmer voice. "I am Tratainthraxjharelden, First Daughter of Mother Moonstone, and keeper of this place. It would seem that your tiny fiend believes himself to be our greatest enemy, Viathirix the Cruel. You mentioned you had much to say about white wyms...you have my undivided attention...."

Nubs, who had disappeared under the large dining room table heaped with the dragon's "hoard" suddenly reappeared at the far end and makes a run towards Minsys, screaming at the top of his lungs. When the party turns to observe the new commotion, the goblin is stopped dead in his tracks. In his arms is a handful of small, worthless trinkets: the husk of an old alarm clock, a fishing lure with no hook, the wheel of a toy car, and two or three other indistinguishable items.

He hurls the clock housing at Minsys, which travels through the air only about halfway to his target before it smashes against the ground. A few springs and cogs manage to roll the rest of the way, one of them coming to rest at the barbarian's feet. Seeing his weapon had made contact, the goblin claimed victory with a loud "Ha ha!" and readies another projectile. Then he sees Minsys' eyes roll up from the spring touching his heel to meet his and the goblin quickly loses his nerve, drops all the remaining items in place and dives back under the table again.

"You'll have to forgive Nubs," says the dragon "once he perceives danger, he becomes very protective over Aerydesia and myself...usually to no avail, as you can clearly see. When he still lived among his own kind, he once threw a pencil at a bugbear...poor thing barely escaped with his life. Just ignore him and he'll usually stop after a few sniper attacks. It makes him feel as though he is helping."

Minsys watches as the part goes flying and he feels no need to move.  He watches it land and slowly raises his eyes up to the tiny creature.  With no hands, it is hardly a threat to himself or to anyone really.  Such a pathetic way to live.  

Turning his attention away from the goblin he gave thr slightest bow to the dragon and said, "The threat if the white and also the green dragon is real.  They be strong, more the green than the white but swords and axes or teeth and claws should be ready..." he then talks of the glorious battle they had against the white and the near death of it at his hands but the green interrupting. 

“Venomfang…the green lairs near the ruins of Thundertree. Nowhere near as powerful as Viarithix was, but certainly the better of any white worm his age. You actually faced him in battle? I am impressed, fierce one,” says the dragon to Minsys 

Minsys frowns, "I can not say we battled it.  We battled the white and more like ran from green.  Nearing the end with the white, we were all damage.  Stepping up to the green would be death at the time.  I do not fear death, but not before vengeance."

"Impossible...." says the dragon, seemingly walking back her former praise of Minsys' battle prowess, "Viathirix could have killed all of you and Venomfang, who is fearsome, but yet no more than a youngling, in a single stroke of his tail, not to mention an blast of his icy breath...which I can attest is able to propel ten thousand needle-like icicles through your body at the speed of a lightning strike. That is...how he killed Mother Moonstone..."

"Viathirix is dead, dear Daughter," interjets Aerydesia breathlessly, as she touches a large diamond pendant hanging from her neck. "I can feel his lifeforce no more upon this plane of existence. I do not know how or when, but Viathirix The Cruel walks the face of Toril no more. There must be another white, a young one, who is now trying to exert control and influence over this region now. That would explain Venonfang's apparent rivalry with him."

The moonstone dragon seems to relax visibly at those words. She bows her head, seemingly lost in thought or perhaps re-experiencing a painful memory. The the elder elf places a consoling hand on her friend's wing and then directs her attention to the party: "Tell me, brave travelers, do you know the whereabouts of this young white? And...are you strong enough to...slay it?"

" Yes, En'nethë (*), I fear there may be some sort of confusion thereabouts..." Tabesha'l says, addressing her grandmother in Common for the benefit of all and staring at the older enchantress with a mixture of awe, relief and worry before turning to the Moonstone dragon to include her in the sharing of information.
 " We come from Phandalin originally, where the local townmaster had grave concerns over the appearance of a younger white wyrm spreading its reign of terror in the area. Its name seems to be Cryovain, and 'tis of yon White our barbaric comrade here is presently speaking of. Of the green draconic pestilence thou calleth Venomfang, we knew nothing until we saw its presence and it did seem to get the better of young Cryovain, indeed..."

 She reflects for a minute more before she concludes: " Whether or not this Cryovain is related to thy own nemesis the Most Evil Foe Viathirix and why it, in its turn, chose to come onto mine service under the guise of a Quasit named Arvithiix - an obvious anagram, now that I thinketh of it... aye, t'was staring at us in the face the whole time, literally - there is one thing we knoweth: Cryovain's den lays in an ancient dwarven fortress, that eventually became an orcish stronghold before finally being taken over by the Wyrm. It lays upon the place named Icespire Peak by the Race Of Men. Obviously yon displaced orc tribes are also bound to be a continuous concern. I daresay we should certainly gather our forces and knowledge and decide what to do about such a tedious rain of never-ending troubles, would thee not agree ?"

(*) En'nethë - "August Mother of Mine Own", literally 'My Dearest Grandma', both a mark of affection and respect. (N.d.T.)

He looks at Aerydesia, anger written on his face. "He is dead, yes. But his spirit is free because of me. My clan and I stopped Viathrix from becoming a dracolich, but I opened the vessel containing its spirit with influence from Arvi. Now, the fiend is available to be resurrected. This is all my fault. Bahamut, I am not worthy of your blessing, but please forgive me."

He cools off a bit, anger at himself still clearly written on his face. "Cryovain could very well be an offspring of Viathrix, although it is irrelevant. We must destroy Cryo and Venom to rid this land of the corruption."

Vaxis head frill flares, and he addresses the dragon, saying, "We are strong enough....and if not, we will be. I WILL NOT allow this menace to pick off my flock, and especially a dragon as unique as yourself. You have my word as a servant of Bahamut."

Tink listens to the stories takes notes herself. She had learnt much of this over the past days but there was always new details to learn. When there is a gap in the conversation she speaks up,  "Excuse me. But if you would be so kind to indulge this gnome, I must say that there seems to be an abnormally high amount of dragons involved here. Is the density of dragon population really so high in these parts? We barely even had sightings of one back in Lantan."

DRAGON TO MINSYS: "You look sturdy enough to take on a white youngling, but perhaps not yet a green one...and certainly not both at once or in consecutive battles. Though I will say, the greens are the most treacherous of all the dragon races...with the right negotiation, you could perhaps avoid combat altogether by striking a deal to get the green to do your dragon-killing for you. The challenge in such transactions with a green is striking the right deal on the spot...if they don't like your offer, they usually call off the bargaining by eating the negotiators..."

DRAGON TO TINK: "The physical and political landscapes of draconic society are not unlike that of many humanoid institutions: When the primary power-broker of a certain domain, be it territorial, influential or both, is suddenly vacated...well, others rush to fill the void, stake their claim and establish their dominance, which usually involves a turbulent period of several candidates vying for control. To humans, this period could encompass between one and three of their generations, but those of us with longer lifespans can usually observe the transition of power from start to finish, unless we become targets and victims thereof..."

AERYDESIA TO TABESHA'L: The elder elf touches the gemstone pendant hanging from her neck as she responds: "Yes...I see him now. Cryovain is a young white, but not the offspring of Viathirix. He prowls atop the dwarven fortress of which you speak...descending into the valley below to feed and terrorize...he is preparing to enter draconic adulthood: establishing a lair, carving out territory and either killing or binding into his service any who dare remain within the boundaries of 'his' domain. If you believe you are ready to face him, I think we could arrange safe transport to the fortress through the Feywild."

AERYDESIA TO VAXIS: "Don't cast shame on thyself just yet, silver one...great honor is upon your family for ending the mortal existence of Viathirix The Cruel...preventing him from achieving dracolichdom, even more so..." Grasping her pendant once more, she bows her head with eyes closed, as if concentrating on a vision: "The demon lord Orcus has claimed the soul of Viathirix, and holds him in the Abyss until such time as a proper dragon corpse can be located and a ceremony performed to confer dracolichdom upon it. Of course, the soul of Viathirix must be present for such event, which would explain why his evil cultists were researching arcane means of calling forth Viathirix from the Abyss...and the nature of my granddaughter's thoroughly unpleasant familiar..."

Tink nods and jots down some notes at the dragon's answer. She then looks up, "While I can understand the scramble to fill the void of power. Afterall something simillar happened when Professor Benjamine Ignatius Gregory Hindbottom Eagar Appleye Drumond stepped down as the chancellor of S.P.R.O.C.K.E.T. Oh I have never seen gnomes scramble and scheme so much in my life. And that's saying something since I've been a gnome all my life. Still I just find it interesting that both Vaxis and Tabesha'l have ties to two different dragons who inturn have ties to one another. It just seems like such a coincidence."