A Sword Without a Hilt: A Song of Ice and Fire/D&D 3.5 Crossover

Seventeenth Day of the First Month 293 AC

The matter is a serious one, a boon you would gladly grant. Still, Maelor is not Waymar to require solemn words of lordship exchanged. "As my first and so far only apprentice, people will expect great things of you. I have little doubt that in a few years you will have the power to claim a city for your own. But yes, I intend to give everyone of us the lives we want to the best of my power."

The boys smiles gratefully, though he is quick to add, "Wizards still sleep, even if only a little while. I'd not try to make my home alone among angry strangers, each sharpening a dagger."

"Speaking of the brevity of sleep, you may have noticed, rule is quite demanding. I am no longer able to spend my days on a clever play, or act in ways that reflect badly on the kingdom... At least not as often as I used to," you reply, your lips sketching a sly smile.

"What does it matter what I can and cannot do wearing my own face?" the boy asks cheekily, altering his features to mirror your own by the power of the ribbon hidden in his hair.

"Tsk... no respect for one's master these days," you shake your head, drawing smiles from Lya, Waymar, and Vee. "Listen to your wise old master when I say this, do not worry yourself too much with the prospects of the future, of duty and service, enjoy your fun and your adventures for you never know when the need of others will take precedence over your own enjoyment."

"Killing demons and the fools that deal with 'em seems as useful as they are fun to me," he banters back, striking a 'dashing pose' as he walks, the sort of thing mummers pretending to be bravos do.

Your voice grows marginally more serious as you conclude, "I have little doubt that one day you will make a fine lord. I am proud to see you come so far, and will gladly trust you to care after any city or keep you desire, and should we not find any to your liking, well, what is magic for if not to shape the world to what we think It should be?"

The sellswords trailing along stare at you with wide eyes, what they must think of such an offer you cannot even guess. That you should make such an offer to a boy of two-and-ten, while yourself barely come into what most of the world counts a man's years... and yet they have seen your power and that of the company you keep. They and the world entire cannot merely discount any of you anymore.

"Should you wish it I am ever glad to teach you the tasks of lordship," you add after a moment.


Past overgrown paths and barriers of thorns, you pass, upon a path that has often veers through ruined buildings as between them and on this path you find no less than three lookouts carefully hidden. Or at least so they would be if to a man they did not surrender on seeing your company approach.

At last the barracks looms before you, a tall square building of weathered grey stone, its windows narrow and surrounded by a man-high wall that now guards not gardens but a hidden drill field.

To your surprise as you come near the rusted gate Malarys gives an honest laugh, a rare thing for the reserved magelord. "This is a most fitting place for those who would deal with demons and offer their souls to the Great Beast," he says, pointing at an bronze plaque, turned almost entirely green with age.

"An asylum," Lya says, peering at the writing, her eyes alight with the glimmer of sorcerous understanding. She too uses the High Valyrian word, as the many bastards tongues that sprang from it had no name to give such a place."A sanctuary for the insane," she explains.

Your arrival has not been unexpected, not that you truly expected it to be. What is surprising is seeing your 'friend' Ser Andrew among those gathered before the heavy oak doors of the barracks. "Hail travelers, that must have been some message you delivered!" he calls, bravado wrapped around a core of desperate courage in his voice, a man who knows he deals from a position of weakness, but is willing to play regardless.

You can see the glint of crossbow bolts already loaded at the windows, for all the good that would do them if you meant these men harm.

What terms to you offer the men of the Golden Company?

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OOC: Since you guys talked about punishment I need to know precisely what terms you offer.