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

As the shock ebbs you feel elated to have discovered such a fount of reason and lore as opposed to another spirit from beyond the bounds of the world to be slain at great risk at worst or placated at best, adding another step in the complex dance you must tread... not that you anticipate it will be easy to deal with this wax man set upon a message by a long dead maegi, but at the very least your purposes align roughly. "It is sad to know that only the trappings of religion could make men listen to wise counsel," you begin to fill the silence and give yourself the time to think.

"Sad..." the false man trails off. "That seems too small a word. It drove my maker to despair to find that every ragged would-be 'prophet' could gather a following to heed their ramblings while the greater truths of the world slowly rotted in the minds of the aged and dying and fell to dust upon forgotten shelves."

Though the words are stilted and passionless they still paint a grim picture in your mind's eye of the world left in grey ash in the wake of the Doom. What would you have done in the place of those ancient sorcerers? Drank deep from the cup of unlife, that one might stride forward upon even the darkest paths? Dream the ages away as Malarys and his companions in fallen Essaria? Or sent a message forth into the future to carry what you could of lore and legacy? "May I call you Messenger, then?" you ask quietly.

"As it pleases thee," the false man replies, this time in the High Tongue of the Freehold. There might be an edge of relief to his words, perhaps at speaking 'a civilized tongue' at last, to judge from Malarys' habits. "It is certainly better than some of the names I have been given by the high priests of Trios in their zeal..."

"Then perhaps it is time to divest yourself of veils and masks," you speak with utmost care, seeking to thread most intricate needle. "Though I find your goals noble and would gladly make common cause with you, my dealings with the divine make it difficult to support the means your maker choose."

"What manner of dealings?" Once more it is impossible to read anything into the tone, if there is even anything there to read.

For near half an hour you speak of the realm your have built and the allies you have gathered to your cause, not only of the gods and spirits but the artifice and forging, the study of the arcane. Ultimately you speak of your hopes for a world no longer prey to ravenous horrors that would devour or enslave it, and setting right the folly that was the Freehold's undoing.

The newly-named Messenger listens quietly, accepting the statue of Trios back into his keeping though you suspect for the worth of gold and gems, and even the reduction in the number of temple guards to one-hundred-and-twenty, though with the intent of sending some of the most loyal and competent to other cities to aid in the growth of the cult there.

On the matter of most import, however, it says not unreasonably, "Much as I might wish it I cannot step forth before the altar on the Day of Remembrance and proclaim the truth for all to hear. There would be chaos and fear that turns to hot rage and blind zeal. It will take time, years, perhaps decades before the trappings of religion can be shed from that which they had been meant to protect. From the manner you took this city it seems to me that you have no desire for the gutters to run red with the blood of the foolish and misguided."

What do you do?

[] Offer to present him to Yss to make his case, after all this false worship is only a tool and unpleasant to his eye at that, gone in an instant by the measure of the deathless gods

[] Simply keep the matter hidden, Yss has not shown himself particularly interested in the nature of other gods in his brief moments of wakefulness

[] Write in

OOC: Your rolls were very good this time around, not that there was much chance of failure given how supportive you were.