Storm King's Thunder

Flint sizes up the dragonborn quietly.

Matrix follows the group keeping an eye on their surroundings, he seems as if part of a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders since the temple.

Ink: The Frozenfar is a loosely-defined area, usually used when describing the inhospitable land of glaciers and ice flows north of the Spine of the World. 

"Ah! Frozenfar." He says, responding to Don's question. "I am surprised you have not heard of such a place. It is where I was born, in the frozen, untamed tundra near the coast of the Trackless Sea. I was for a time a member of Fireshear's Griffon Cavalry, but the life of an adventurer proved to be the stronger calling. In fact, that is why I travel now to Citadel Felbarr. The king and queen are seeking adventurers to deal with a threat to their realm. Nothing else was said, and I needed no more information, of course."  

He smiles, showing his many sharp teeth, as he continues. "And yes, Dragonfoe. A fitting title for any of my kind, but this one has a story. Years ago, I scaled the tallest peak in the Spine of the World and plucked coins from the hoard of a white dragon sleeping less than 10 feet away." Saarvin turns out his cloak to show you a handful of gold and silver coins sewn into the lining.   

"Shall we be on our way? It was wise of you to wear winter clothes." Saarvin will travel with you across the great elevated road, with 100-foot high cliffs on either side, if you allow him to do so. 

Don steps forward slowly his head lowered. When he is a few steps from Saarvin his lifts his head and his eyes are glowing red. 

"White dragon you say? Tell me about it."

Saarvin looks at Don curiously. “Ah...illusory eye color? Very pretty. Are you able to do that at will?”

"I can do a lot of things." he says impatiently, "The dragon? It's lair is it nearby?"

“No...the tallest peak in the Spine of the World. That’s leagues away. And this was years ago, mind you. Not nearby, not recent. I stole coins from the great dragon as it slept, see?” He again flashes the coins sewn into his cloak lining. 

// are we able to discern his subtype? Filing for future reference if needed. //

"He had a friend killed by a white dragon recently so don't mind his questions to much"

Crownsguard raises a hand, "Technically, we had a friend. But yes, we lost him to the dragon. We seek to fix that."

Quote from DarthAvarice >>

// are we able to discern his subtype? Filing for future reference if needed. //

The small amount of scales that are exposed to the elements look to be copper, possibly bronze. 

Quote from Gimpster >>

"He had a friend killed by a white dragon recently so don't mind his questions to much"

 “Ah. My condolences,” Saarvin says to Don. “Have you been able to track and kill the beast yet?” 

"your  friend perhaps, I never met him. met the dragon though. not a fan."

As you proceed over the mountain pass, you are met with harsh winds and blowing snow. The two massive gates, the Hammer and the Anvil, stand as checkpoints along the long, elevated road. 

Finally, you see it: two wide parapets with crenelated battlements (called "North Vigil" and "South Vigil," according to Saarvin) stand outside these gates on the nearby mountainsides, ready to rain ballista bolts and catapult stones down on would-be invaders.

The road ends at the "Runegate," the main entrance to the underground city. If you present your letter from Ghelryn Foehammer, you will be quickly and courteously ushered into the presence of the royal court.

Flint presents the letter and asks to be admitted.

Saarvin will slip in with you, if you allow it.

The underground fortress is grand and glorious, and not just by dwarven standards. The mighty stone walls, cut into the living rock of the mountain range, are festooned with banners and works of art from all over Faerûn. There is no sign that the citadel was only recently plundered by the Many Arrows orcs in the War a decade ago; its restoration is remarkable. 

You are directed to wait outside the Hall of Ceremony, where the King and Queen sit enthroned. Thanks to your letter from Foehammer, however, it is not long at all before you are summoned into the hall. You are announced as "The Heroes of Triboar," followed by the recitation of each of your names in turn. It seems that your reputation precedes you.

The royal couple, King Morinn and Queen Tithmel, welcome you all, and Flint most warmly. "Tell us," says Queen Tithmel, "How fares Ghelryn?"  

Crownsguard looks to the others, clearly unaware of things.

Flint speaks slowly to keep the stuttering to a minimum.

"F-fergive me speech, ah've  g-got a wwound. G-ghelryn ffares well 'mong th' humans at T-triboar an' 'isself fought 'side us ta  save th' town." Flint briefly recounts what he knows of the giant problem and what we're  doing  about  it. "Have ye any aide ye c-can lend us?"

Ink is stunned silent by the great halls, commenting quietly, "I always figured I'd be stifled underground, but with ceilings so tall, it simply seems a Starless Night."

King Morinn and Queen Tithmel appear worried at the mention of a wound.

The king, however, waves his hand, and a dwarven courtier approaches with a small wooden box. 

"A commendation for your bravery and continued efforts against the giants," says the king. "The three goats: Travel, Travail, and Terror. Use them well." The courtier bows low and holds out the box for you to take it.

"We also have a mission for you, should you choose to undertake it," says Queen Tithmel. "We have received disturbing reports of fire giant sightings in the hills to the northwest. We fear that the giants might be in the process of reigniting the ancient underground forge known as Ironslag." 

"If you would undertake an expedition to investigate," continues King Morinn, "we offer in return to build you a fortified tower. We would require any details you are able to uncover regarding the fire giants' plans, and most importantly, proof that they are no longer a threat. Do this for us, and you will be richly rewarded. And," he finishes, directing his attention to Flint, "please do not leave without allowing our physicians to treat your wound."

The queen stands, and the dwarves in attendance all bow as she does. "A hot meal for you all, and you may stay the night as our honored guests."

"you think it looks impressive now, you should see the place during a brewing festival when they are trying to show off"

Matrix lets Flint and Ink do the talking to royalty