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

Twenty-Seventh Day of the Second Month 293 AC

You find yourself in two minds on the matter presented to you, but not as the gaggle of fools might imagine it. On the one hand there is the cold calculus of coin you have been making since your first days investing in Braavosi trade. It would be madness to attempt to buy hundreds of thousands of slaves even for a pittance, emptying your treasury into the hands of all-but-certain foes. Beneath the sums and figures, however, there is anger burning bright. These simpering idiots either do not understand that reality, or they wish to see you break your given word, allowing slavery to endure for the sake of the dubious loyalty of their ilk.

For a moment it is all that you can do not to laugh in contempt. Instead you temper rage with reason and forge of it passion and conviction as the blacksmith works steel from common iron. "Magic's return is still so recent that your ignorance is understandable in this instance. Do you believe my conquest of this place, one of the nine great Free Cities, in less than a day's time was a fortunate accident?" the question cuts through the air like a knife. None dare to answer, not that you were looking for them to, though you mark the ones still willing to meet your gaze, the defiant and the bold. They will either soon make themselves useful or they will just as soon be dead.

"It was no mere chance," you continue apace. "Through sorcery, many things are possible. I can cross thousands of leagues in an instant, raise a house from nothing in moments, or curse a man into the shape of a simple beast with not even the wits to regret what he has lost, and these are but a sampling of the sorcery I and those closest to me can work. Did the walls of Tyrosh stave off my army? Of course not, for what good are walls when sorcery allows one to transport thousands of men into the midst of a city like an arrow to the heart? If the lesser cities will prove so recalcitrant then I will do onto them what was done to Tyrosh itself."

"That is... ah... generous of you excellence," one of the magisters finally finds his words.

"No, that is sensible of me, for what purpose would there be in damaging a city that is to fall under my rule?" Left unsaid is the boast behind the words, you need not punish disobedience harshly because you do not fear that it can trouble you long. "The conquest of a city is no small matter, though hardly a unique occurrence in the long and troubled history of Essos. Seeing this city thrive, however, as I aim to do in Tyrosh, that's more uncommon by far, and truly a legacy to be proud of. Would you rather be a part of that, to help your city rise above the petty squabbles and trite power games of your neighbors? This is an opportunity, not a cause for alarm, much less rebellion."

The applause that follows is a hollow thing in most quarters, but again you catch sight of some that seem to understand and at the very least resolve to make the best of the hand they had been dealt. You have little doubt that some among the other heads of Houses, both present and absent, will do foolish things eventually. A pity that they do not just declare themselves now and spare you the trouble. When you speak again it is in truth for a far smaller audience, meeting their eyes one by one, fixing the names mentioned in the long droning introduction in your mind.

"Will you aid me now to built that better more prosperous future? I know this is no small request, for it will change the very fabric of this city forever. I will free the slaves of this city and those cities allied to Tyrosh. And yes, you will be paying for the privilege. However, you are wealthy men and I do not ask you to beggar yourselves so that your former slaves will live in palaces. The wheels of the city must turn and for that the freemen too will be needed. They will, for the most part, continue the paths they have been trained for. Silver and gold will be earned, and silver and gold will be spent. Trust that I have planned Tyrosh's transition from a city of slavery to a true Free City. Stay the course, do not give me cause to make an example of you, and you will look back on this day as the fulcrum upon which your fortunes were truly made rather than broken."

A few more are swept up in the passion of your speech, though how much that will count once their treasuries bleed silver into the pockets of former slaves is more than you can say. After far more complimenting and praise than any man could wish for, during which you are compared to all manner of fanciful things, from swords, to fire, to a godsbedamned butterfly that brings the dawn, your first public audience as the lord of Tyrosh thankfully comes to an end.

"Expect assassins, Your Grace," Ser Richard says as soon as the two of you are alone in the chamber again.

"You don't sound worried," you note, amused.

"You've made foes of far worse things than that sorry lot," the knight shrugs. "One should not pay too much heed to stinging insects when shadowcats have a taste for your blood."

What do you do next?

[] See to it that the palace administration begins to be set to rights

[] Fly off at once and to cow Tyrosh's vassal cities into submission before their leaders have time to scheme
-[] Write in

[] Speak to the priests of Trios
-[] Write in

[] Write in

OOC: You can of course delegate.. Just keep in mind Garin and Malarys are busy right now.