In her private room in the Citadel, Ayaci leans fully back in her armchair and sips her ale. Her legs are positioned comfortably on the over-large burlap sack in front of her, and she closes her eyes to savor the warmth of the fire coming from the hearth. It was a pisher, but she finally bagged her prize in the end. Thinking on the weeks she spent tracking the fat buggerer sends a bubble of anger simmering up from her gut, and she kicks the sack (and the giant's head inside it) with her well-heeled boot. 

"Big bastard," she mutters. "You nearly got me in the end," She takes another drink of her ale, then stands, stretches, and walks over the window. For the life of her, she can't imagine why she keeps coming to this frozen rock. There's not even a decent view from this room. Just ice, and snow, and...

...Is that an airship? A frown creases her face, and her sky blue eyes narrow. She downs her beer and considers her options. She nods decisively, stalks over to the head, hoists it over a broad shoulder, and makes her way to collect her reward before the new arrivals, whoever they are, have a chance to spoil her good mood.

The dwarves, obviously not used to such a rare sight as an airship, are moving with urgency through the citadel. Guard members are following their captains to defensive posts.

(Per Discord conversation) At Ink's warning, Crownsguard uses his divine sense, but senses no presence of strong evil among the rescued slaves.

Crownsguard gives a thumbs up, “I sense no morally-bound abberant entities within this radius. Additionally, they are not dead.”

"Someone should check the rod, you still have that right?"

After you land the airship, Flint disembarks and leads the rescued dwarves to the gates. After a short interchange, the Iron Guard lowers the drawbridge, and you are led beyond the gatehouse and welcomed into the citadel. 

The rescued prisoners, dwarves and all, are escorted into a separate area. Halani tells her people, in elvish, to be patient and comply. Those familiar with dwarvish customs recognize that the dwarves are being as polite as they can be, though outsides would find them rather gruff.

The dwarves escort you in formation, and tell you that rooms will be made available for you. Until then, you are warned, don't wander too far. The Citadel is home to the dwarf clans, and even honored guests must have an escort with them at all times.

--

Ayaci, when you arrived, you were told that payment for your bounty would be forthcoming. It's been a while, but no one has come to pay you yet.

Ink simply communicates to Flint that expediency through these niceties would be appreciated as Don is captive, best case, and now with the drow thrown in, more than ever it seems like these fire giants should be stopped.

Looking in his own coin purse, Ink asks the group, "Do you think we should try selling the extra adamantine divining rod to the Kingdom here? We need to resupply the ship and all I have is the little coin I personally have, and what we nipped from the Chimera's nest."

Speaking of, Ink examines carefully the tiny electrum music box, the dagger with an obsidian blade, and the gold-plated helm studded with gems and topped with a tiny golden anvil, found in the Chimera nest, to attempt to decipher what any symbols or markings mean, as well as what it can say about their previous owner. 

Crownsguard is petting Cat, his little tressym, “Hello Cat. I am grateful that you are good at hiding. I would be sad if you died. And if I could feel sadness.”

"the good news is Don is clever, he'll probably rescue himself  before we get the chance"

Ink can tell that these objects are all of considerable value, and though of remarkable quality and craftsmanship, are nonmagical. 

Flint is able to estimate the value of each object—

• tiny electrum music box: 50 gp
• dagger with an obsidian blade: 75 gp
• gold-plated helm studded with gems and topped with a tiny golden anvil: 750 gp

Flint lets you know that these bits of treasure could easily fetch their full value here in Citadel Adbar. He also agrees that staying here long would be ill-advised, for Don's sake, but also cautions that it's foolish to go into a fight without preparing oneself. "Make sure yer rested," he says. 

--

As you consider your next moves, a female dwarf in regal vestments comes to get you, accompanied by a detachment of the Iron Guard. "Giant-slayers! The king demands a private audience with you immediately," she says. "Follow me." 

"She's an elder," Flint whispers, pointing at the dwarf woman's ornate warhammer. "Best to follow, fer now."

--

Meanwhile, a smaller detachment of Iron Guard dwarves comes for Ayaci, with a similar command. "The King demands a private audience with you immediately, giant-slayer." 

Marav starts to follow the elder, he lowers his hood the fresh scars on his face standing out. He walks carefully, his staff clicking lightly on the ground as he uses it to walk.

Ink stuffs everything back into the bag of holding and takes Flint's cue, following in step with Marav. 

Matrix falls into step behind Marav  and whispers "In my experience the more one tries to hide their  scars the more obvious they become, although i can't argue the look." then to the group he says "with some luck we might be able to align with more giant-slayers"

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Meanwhile, a smaller detachment of Iron Guard dwarves comes for Ayaci, with a similar command. "The King demands a private audience with you immediately, giant-slayer." 

Aya stifles a smile at the mix of implied threat and grudging honorific. These dwarves never get old, she thinks. Aloud, she replies, "Of course, guardsman. At once." She thrusts the bagged head into the speaker's chest to carry for her, then makes her way to the King's audience room (or throne room / whatever it is).

Quote from Gimpster >>

Matrix falls into step behind Marav  and whispers "In my experience the more one tries to hide their  scars the more obvious they become, although i can't argue the look." then to the group he says "with some luck we might be able to align with more giant-slayers"

 Crownsguard tilts his head, and then nods, “Correct. If one were to use a less advisable method to buff out my chassis, I believe that my dents would be apparent. However. I do not believe that organics suffer from the same issues. In the cases of your existences, it would be a wiser idea to hide the scars if one is seeking to retain a pleasing aesthetic.”

He pauses, “Have you tried a hat?”

"I might have hidden once, but now I am Bahamut's emissary I am not hiding any longer. 

Following the Iron Guards, you will find yourselves in the audience hall of the dwarven king Harnoth. Surrounding the throne are three dwarven elders, and four of the king's bodyguards. Before entering, Flint is taken away on a matter of "dwarven forgemaster importance."

Once you are all present, the Iron Guard hand Ayaci's bag off to one of the elders, who handles it as gingerly as possible. She whispers something in the king's ear, then steps back as the king stands to address you. The Iron Guard bow before departing.

Once the Iron Guard has left, the king says in a magnanimous voice, his braided beard bouncing as he speaks, "You have been summoned here because you have shown great promise in dealing with the giant menace. We in Citadel Adbar have, of long, been watchful of the threat to the north...the vile Duke Zalto. Lately, Zalto has dispatched many of his fire giants, and these brutes scour the countryside for scraps of adamantine. 

"We understand that some of you—" King Harnoth glances towards Ink, Marav, Matrix, and Crownsguard "—are responsible for the return of our clansmen who were slaves in the mines of Ironslag. We have heard from them tales of your exploits. We understand the danger that you faced there, but we have both a reward and a proposition for you."

The king then turns to Ayaci. "You have come at a most opportune time. You have come for the bounty on giants, which we are happy to reward to you. In addition, I would like to extend this opportunity to you as well."

The king nods, and two of his bodyguard step forward with rewards. Each of the heroes—Ayaci, Crownsguard, Ink, Marav, and Matrix—are given small bags of gems equaling 100 gp per person. 

"We desire an end, once and for all, to the giant threat from Ironslag. If you are able to explore Ironslag in full and shut down their operation, and bring us confirmation of your deeds, then you will be rewarded mightily—one rare magical item, of your choice, for each of you." 

"Generous of you. Is there anything you can tell us about them or Ironslag? The frontal assault... Was ill advised of us."

“We are expecting a report from our patrol, though they were due back a full day ago. Nonetheless, Ironslag is a vast fortress full of secrets. The dwarves you rescued were the first of our people to have returned from that place in a generation. We only know that the great doors of Ironslag open only for fire giants who speak a special command phrase, and the only other way in is through the Yakfolk village. Bur our dwarves tell us that the Yakfolk seem to have abandoned their village?” The king sits in his throne. His voice is dispassionate, but his face betrays his intrigue. 

Crownsguard raises his hand, “Incorrect. The Yakfolk were found in violation of Prime law and therefore punished accordingly.”