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

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Duesal said:
I've always been looking forward to the epic levels, and I'm against stopping. There's a lot of conquering to do, the Illithid to fight, the Long Night to survive, etc. Maxing out TNE's PrC and getting that awesome enhancement to our breathweapon has been something I've dreamed of for a while now.

EDIT: Also, plans to eventually crush the City of Brass. That's not going to happen if we slam ourselves with a level cap.
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A party of level 20s can do pretty much anything with sufficient planning and skill.

From what I've read Epic Levels are underwhelming in official print, everything gets weird and skewed, it was clearly an afterthought and some of it is basically considered a joke. What little is outlined half the time contradicts all the non-epic stuff you've been using.

I'm confident DP could homebrew a half decent epic system but I think it'd just be better to continue being a badass level 20.
 
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Adhoc vote count started by DragonParadox on Aug 9, 2018 at 4:56 AM
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Adhoc vote count started by DragonParadox on Aug 9, 2018 at 4:57 AM, finished with 135 posts and 15 votes.
  • [X] Lore and Loot
    -[X] Exchange lore with the Mysterium
    --[X] Exchange general knowledge (books and such)
    ---[X] Especially see what rare books you can get, especially on magic and the histories of the Freehold.
    --[X] Rituals for Rituals. Hold off on the Identification Ritual for now, but consider giving it for after Zherys' loyalties are fully confirmed. Also hold off on sharing the Verdant Fields ritual that you bought off the archons of Mantarys. That could play havoc with the markets if used improperly. The other rituals are fair game.
    --[X] Try to talk with the Necromancer, we have some necromantic lore none of our friends really wants to work with, if he can get a use of it (or from working with our undead allies) and we get full insight a study-exchange to SD can be offered
    -[X] Exchange lore with the Red Priests
    --[X] Lya asks what interests her and offers knowledge in return at her own discretion.
    --[X] Also Clockwork Mender Swarm. We'd pay for that and you have Lawful priests.
    -[X] Dany and Viserys take an afternoon to have a chat with Meraxes. There is much we'd like to discuss with her.
    -[X] Economics:
    --[X] Send Garin around to buy up debts to the defunct magister houses and those who will soon be defunct.
    --[X] Budget: 100,000 IM
    --[X] If Garin wants to chime in, we can haggle about the details later.
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With the frame of the thread being various voices in Viserys' head... Please please have mercy, the boy can only take so much, his world doesn't even have the internet, the closest they got was the Far Realms and even that pales in comparison.
 
DragonParadox said:
I'm apparently going to have to ramp up the CR of encounters...
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Nah, I think everything is pretty well calibrated as it is. There is plenty of danger in the quest, IMO. Just look at the Maelephant we bagged yesterday; it withstood a 16th caster level Banishment and could have then used it's breathweapon to mindwipe Richard and Viserys with a bit of luck. The stakes are plenty high.
Artemis1992 said:
Not sure that's the issue.
Though it might help.

At least for me part of the issue comes with Viserys' draconic statline, HP and saves. He is a good bit less squishy than the rest of the party, which makes threatening Viserys without just murdering his friends a bit difficult.
See the Devils at Summerhall or the ice-creatures that nearly killed Bronn.
Those were nearly harmless to Viserys besides a very low chance of us critfailing on a save-or-die effect, but there was a real chance of them killing our friends and costing us diamonds and XP.
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That's the whole point of getting more powerful, so that dangerous shit becomes less dangerous. Eventually, we transition from worrying as much about defending ourselves to worrying about defending all of our stuff, which includes family and friends, treasure, reputation, and kingdom.

If you want to see something other than Viserys in combat, though, there are plenty of opportunities for that. @DragonParadox What about having us follow the adventures of the Sothoryos Expedition for a few days?
Deliste said:
A party of level 20s can do pretty much anything with sufficient planning and skill.

From what I've read Epic Levels are underwhelming in official print, everything gets weird and skewed, it was clearly an afterthought and some of it is basically considered a joke. What little is outlined half the time contradicts all the non-epic stuff you've been using.

I'm confident DP could homebrew a half decent epic system but I think it'd just be better to continue being a badass level 20.
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D&D 3.5's Epic level system straight up sucks. It's awful. Pathfinder's Mythic tier system is much better, and something we could easily integrate into the current quest right now rather than waiting for level 20+.
 
Crake said:
Prince to Prince, King to King
​
That had been a hell of a storm, 'Jonnel' thought. Perhaps disappointingly, slipping in among the numerous refugees and immigrants flooding into the fabled "City of Dawning Magic" wasn't as difficult as he'd thought it would be. He was reasonably certain it was much more difficult for him to blend in with the already melting pot of cultures that was Braavos, and more so for a bearing that drew from more cultures than his Westerosi features might imply at first blush. Acting had not been among his many skills, nor did he think it would ever be. At times he thought he'd be at home more out in the Grey Wastes, within the Dawn Fort and in good company, if not terrain.

And still not drawing a crowd or even being worth much notice by the surprisingly organized port authorities, nor the law enforcement. Irritatingly, more organized than the Goldcloaks, given the fact that the watch in King's Landing had been designed to catch criminals, formed from men loyal to the crown, and devolved into a den of petty thugs and robber ilk little better than what circles they were set after, and couldn't be more disloyal to any authority without a hand reaching into a coin purse, no greater appeal to them than that of gold itself. These 'Greycloaks' were disciplined, if in an unconventional way, going about their business in a no-nonsense fashion, passing over those travelers unlikely to make trouble, and having a suspiciously canny ability to pick out troublemakers before they have the fortune to slip any given net.

The people that formed both groups were just as likely to be of Essosi stock as Westerosi... or women rather than men, which he didn't begrudge so much as gawk at, not for the reasons they might assume, given the unflattering glares he'd been ducking ever since. True equality, he'd been thinking. Not just those who had reach high in influence among the 'gentry', the providence of new nobility as much as the wealthy or at least well-to-do had been called, merchants, yes, but also the authorities and perhaps unsurprisingly the local military.

'Jonnel' still thought his Royal Guard would find a worthy match for these "Legionaires", or 'Torchbearers', as the present First Legion's sobriquet apparently was. It did not take long to draw the inference. Formed of sell-swords, hedge knights, more conventional men at arms who had made the journey to sign on with the Dragon King's household troops... and former slaves, escaped or liberated, it made no difference. He was amused by what the locals called 'Chain Street'. Most of the city was lit by ethereal 'witch lights' that caught his attention for at least a few moments, drawing his thoughts to the thousands of lanterns which lit the Port of Ibben. But the ones on the Street of Chains, which might make one draw conclusions of it being a bazaar for flesh peddlers, if it weren't for the fact that each collar lay upon them broken or snapped, were replaced routinely by simpler torches, and mundane in nature.

More's the pity. He thought slave liberators making a base in the Narrow Sea, originally home only to pirates and slavers, notoriously so in fact, was more fantastical than most of what he'd already glimpsed. If it weren't for the Little Valyrians who acted nothing like the beasts he'd chanced upon in his travels at all, but instead little people. Or the bull men who could probably out-wrestle a Clegane, either brother. A smile touched his lips at the thought. That would be a contest he'd like to be not too soon in the coming.

And still there were the 'wizards'. He'd of course thought it would mostly be petty conjurers and charlatans, as that is much of what one saw the further west they went, but that was only half the truth. There were petty conjurers, but that was only because they were apparently still learning, and learning more all the time! And there were apparently some very strict laws in place in terms of active defrauding of con men who thought it a good idea to pretend to be sorcerers in a city full of them. He was initially wary of so many magic users gathered in one place at the same time, never getting over his mistrust for their like, but willing to grin and bear with it if it meant gathering his wits in a strange yet familiar world.

It all came to a head when he thought to pay his respect to one of the many, apparently newly grown heart trees, which he knew for fact should be all but impossible. There hadn't been weirwoods growing on the shattered Stepstones for thousands of years by many a historian's reckoning. 'Jonnel' had always had a sense of... peace, tranquility, or at least solemn contemplation when he came to tend a Godswood, but this 'Healing Tree' gave him nothing less than shivers up the spine, of a glaring presence that was very much alive, singing loud, not the murmuring torpor he come to expect. Magic in the air itself, as much a thing of bone and blood as Brightroar lying just beyond the skein of reality, for it was he and he was it, and magic was there.

When he offered blood to the tree at an urchin's suggestion, and only after thorough observation and testing, he'd gotten his first taste of what many called a 'miracle'.

He quickly set every miracle aside, because right then wasn't the time to be readjusting his entire world view. He'd done that enough times already, and was quite content where it had cemented as of late.

They have steel giants protecting their magic school, he thought dimly, staring up at the model of what they called the "Dance of Spheres" above the fountain carved from magic, brilliant and terrible, beautiful in a way that was hard to describe without laying eyes on it yourself, or so one grey beard with purple eyes had claimed to him after several pointed inquiries. To his chagrin, he felt like the sorcerer had gotten more out of him than vice versa, for he had looked much too interested in his activities after that, even after making good on that offer of getting him drunk.

And they keep adding bits of other worlds to their model art. 'Jonnel' would pinch himself, but he was fairly sure he wasn't hallucinating or imagining things anymore. Water, earth, fire, air. These weren't just mortal concepts of the very elements which forged the world around them anymore, but concepts which predated mortals, with spirits of flame and sky and sea and stone their denizens. The flaming bird in the tavern stolen from near Storm's End had confirmed as much. He'd heard the story a dozen times over. It was great. He loved that story. Could only appreciate the irony in his own corner of the room, all unaware of what amused him so, and it wasn't the audacity shown in the theft. Though that was funny, too.

The Tinker's Guild was enlightening in a different way. For all the burgeoning city was well governed otherwise, this was a bit of organized chaos upon which rest the thrust of a thousand plans, ever-changing, from machines to lay waste to one's enemies or elaborate and complicated gear-driven water clocks and plumbing for sewers or aqueducts. Automated hedge trimmers, self-balancing wheeled devices and fishing boats which flipped themselves over when they might capsize.

Some of these ideas even worked. And while some people called the maddening workshop home, the strange beetle spirits which cackled with glee when he spit-balled some of his own ideas their way and began work immediately, drawing from absurd budgets provided by the Crown, as it was called, were more at nature with the bizarre scene.

The 'Circle of Battle' wasn't at all like what he'd expected, either, a blood pit of sand for men and beasts to butcher each other for the amusement of nobles? Least of his expectations had been first rate healers in constant attendance of the injured fighters, nor the bull men who clashed with conjured monsters or monkey archers who made shots he'd only seen during his time with the Scouts, doing utterly improbable maneuvers he'd ordinarily cuff a man for. But damned if it didn't work for them, he thought. And there were the mages. If that's what battle magic can do, he shuddered, I fear what 'powerful' sorcery around here is capable of. Apparently mimicking dragonstone construction using ordinary basalt, among other things.

The girl with auburn hair fixed the broken arm a bull man named 'Surehoof' had given him with nary a glance or wave of her arm, barking 'Next!' at him so sharply he couldn't get in even a moment to question her about magic. Which was unfortunate, because she was apparently close to the local despot in council and friendship.

Finally, when he couldn't take the twists and bends any longer, there was the taverns. One smuggler had gotten their hands on something called 'Dawn Mead', which could clear one's head of exhaustion and sleep with a sip, and keep one's spirits high for hours, though the crash was just as bad, if he did say so himself. 'Jonnel' had been moping for just as many hours when the bottle he'd won in a series of clever bets ran dry. But at least his head didn't ache. Another bonus to liberal magic laden all about the place.

"This is bullshit," he muttered, "A fancy sword and a goofy lion. That's all I had to work with. And They just hand the Targaryens the power to warp reality at will?"

At least he was really good with a sword.

But better with a hammer. These little ironies were what kept him up at night.

When he wasn't thinking of darker things.

As he gazed up at the ominous Keep before him, a paltry, perhaps even humble thing before the ostentatious Palace of Tyrosh the King in the Stepstones had claimed yet only paid lipservice amounts of passing thought in his residence to, he then contemplated his next move. Sign on with the Legion, maybe get shuffled into a training unit and work my way up the slow way?

Maybe 'Jonnel' would simply help a soldier misplace his gear and slip in with the next patrol relieving the night guard? Or, he thought with a snort, just walk in bold as brass and offer parley with a Dragon.

He mulled it over.

No, he eventually decided, that just isn't my style. ​

***
​
Your eyes slipped over the never-ending pile of missives, decrees and edicts, and for all that your mind was sharpened with a will stronger still than the unflinching hand which dutifully filled them out to the utmost, because you despised halfhearted efforts where it counted, and more so not fulfilling even the smallest duties to perfection, for it was the small things which were far easier to get done right, every time, rather than the things that were truly difficult. Which does not mean I must stop trying in both, you remind yourself, for such is the duty of a king, and all the better to ingrain such ethics with everyday life.

An example creates a thousand others on its own strength, after all, as the city spread out beside him can surely attest.

Also, you think with a small amount of whimsy, if I can think of this as merely ordinary, I can hardly wait for the world's reaction to what I consider truly extraordinary. Reworking the infrastructure of southern Essos from the ground-up being just a passing fancy for the Targaryen monarch of the Narrow Sea, all else still being equal... he did have to find ways to amuse himself in the late hours of the evening, where the only reward for work done well... was more work.

Only the sharpened senses lent to his blood alerted him to the scuffing of boots behind him, upon the uneven portion of the window sill, the tiniest creak of floorboard and scrape of Myrish rug against coarse surface... you vanish with a pop of displaced air, a sword's sheath lying empty beside your desk between one moment and the next, drawing a gasp from the dimly lit room to the emptied chamber before it. Dark Sister lay light as a feather against a young boy's throat--no, a man... someone with the same worldly air you have seen so many times somewhere else. "I don't know whether to congratulate your skill, or pity your lack of sense." Perhaps both, depending on the direction and result of this conversation.

For all the world any ordinary boy should be beside himself with fear, this one just smiled, relaxed and released his grip on his own blade, which you note then with dimmer surprise had pressed between a gap of your robe, warded as it was against common blade, and armored scale beneath hidden in simpler glamour still. "Didn't think an appointment would go over nearly as well," he replied lightly. "Thought I'd just invite myself in."

"Perhaps we should talk," you growl, gesturing with your own blade to the seat before your desk. "I'm sure you'll have many interesting things to say..."

"Joffrey," the man replied, and the world stops for a moment, features drawn in and compared quickly, and as a thousand thoughts flash before your eyes in a span of seconds, a breath drawn sharp as the younger man gestures for calm, already elaborating on that particular impossibility. "Right, right... as you guessed, Baratheon. At your pleasure, Your Grace," he said with a mocking bow.

Slowly, you re-sheathed Dark Sister again, and promptly poured two cups of good drink. The boy looked at the cup of mead forlornly, drawing a look of incomprehension from you as he hesitated at the lip. "It makes me depressed."

You slowly shake your head, lower your own cup, and pointedly tap a flesh-mask covered claw upon your desk, the glamour giving the barest flicker, as crimson eyes are reflected starkly in your golden drink.

"Explain."

Joffrey Baratheon, a boy older than should be possible and yet wholly not the same as expected, leaned back, tapping his chin delicately, though he couldn't hide the slight tremble in his hand. Though whether it was fear or excitement, you couldn't begin to tell.

Then, he shrugged. "Just more Purple nonsense."

Your head begins to sharply ache. And thus lay the order of the evening.

OOC: This one is just for @bigbow. I love you @bigbow! You didn't ask for this, but you got it anyway!​
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Damn, another excellent omake in less than 24 hours. Great job, @Crake.

I really need to get around to reading Purple Days. I hear good things about it @bigbow.
 
DragonParadox said:
I'm apparently going to have to ramp up the CR of encounters...
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Crake said:
Oh shit. RUN! RUN UNTIL YOU REACH THE SUNSET LANDS! THERE'S NO GOING BACK!
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Yes, I'm pretty sure that those things that will stalk forth towards our beautiful and newly acquired cities from the smoking ruins of Qohor will have plenty of CR appropriate options...

Goldfish said:
I really need to get around to reading Purple Days. I hear good things about it @bigbow.
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Just finished it this last weekend, it is Magnificent.

actually I may have skimmed a bit of the Yi Ti parts...
 
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The higher your level goes the more EVERYTHING turns into playing tag with nukes.

There is no danger, because by the point we feel the danger we would be thoroughly fucked.
 
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Part MMCCVIII: Seeds of Fellowship
  • Threadmarks
    • Seeds of Fellowship ​

    Twentieth Day of the Fourth Month 293 AC

    Volantis rests uneasily around you, the flames of yesterday's conflict having burned down to embers, though they still flare unexpectedly. Petty fiends driven by some unwise act of spite in the absence of their 'wiser' brethren cause mayhem in the worse-off wards of east Volantis, seeking to wring suffering from the weakest prey they can find while dozens of Zherys' less notable opponents attempt to flee by ship, either to rally support from their estates or simply to escape with as much of their wealth as they can to foreign shores. Neither attempt comes to much as the Tigers and the Red Priests grow more at ease in their unlikely alliance, having passed the test of the coup itself.

    The magisters are content to leave 'the rabble' to their priests, except of course for the Banners towards which most of them are beginning to display some inkling of respect after the excellent showing against Unsullied. Garin even tells you he caught wind of the odd very cautious muttering that 'perhaps blood can flow true even in a slave's veins'. Zherys' star could not be shining higher both with his peers and the common citizens, his time evenly divided between matters of politics and high finance and rousing speeches in guildhalls squares and markets in an unspoken competition with Benerro's sermons and miracle-workings.

    Having little else for them to do you send Glyra and her troupe to keep watch on both these gatherings, for gremlins are nothing if not skilled at slipping into a crowd, and the city can certainly take the odd fey prank in the bargain. Glyra summed up their reports quite nicely as 'the dragon-man puts more fire in his words, but the priest likes folk more and it shows.'

    Alas that Zherys has been careful at managing coin as he has crowds, often stealing a march on Garin when it comes to buying off the debt of soon to be destitute and disgraced families, though the act is masked behind the Bank of Volantis, which, rather conveniently for him, has an overwhelming Tiger majority on its governing board on its first meeting after the purges.

    Lost 25,000 Gold

    Gained 43,750 Gold worth of debt

    The more esoteric side of your dealings has also proven fruitful, if not perhaps as much as it could have. Lya was disappointed in discovering that the priests of the Red God did not uncover a better means of soul-forging. Rather they happened upon a means of transferring the souls of slaves gifted with sorcerous power into bodies wrought of brass gears and silver wire. The process allowed the mages to swiftly gain mastery of magics of the third circle and lower though it stunts their growth towards true mastery of the arcane. By far the most immediate use of that lore was an incantation for the swift mending of damaged servitors by calling forth some swarms of clockwork beetle begotten of some forgotten cosmic mechanism. Moreover Lya now feels confident that she can to return Jorel Fairwind to flesh without damaging either his sister's budding sorcery or severing the link the siblings possess.

    Gained Scroll of Summon Clockwork Mender Swarm

    Gained Ritual of Flesh to Steel (allows one to create spell casting awakened constructs using the souls of mages)

    Son of Fair Winds completed instantly

    Lore of the Soul and the Elements paid back

    For his part Zherys proves interested in books regarding the Deep Ones, the Others, and the hosts of Abaddon that he may better on guard against such threats, trading back an interesting compilation on the creation and sustaining of minor demesnes from endless the gray mists of the ethereal realm.

    Gained Codex of the World Seed
    Codex of the World Seed

    Description: Bound in heavy silver, set with bright sapphires that glow softly under a mage's touch, this book will not open under the hand of one not possessed of sufficient arcane power, and rightly so for the ever-changing lore held within could easily damage a mind not inured to magic's often twisting paths. It seems to possess some manner of rudimentary intelligence and inherent connection to the ether winds.

    Content: Arcane formulas relating to the current conditions of the ethereal plane, allowing a mage who studies it for an hour before casting a spell that creates an extra dimensional space to work the magic as though affected by the Extend Spell metamagic feat.

    Regarding rituals the Mysterium is willing to trade they offer all manner of complex warding magics, at once powerful in kind but limited in scope yet the price they ask may be more than you should perhaps pay. Zherys is curious about the nature of the Old Gods and their boons, rightly pointing out that he has encountered few entities so willing to offer boons for no other price than blood, laying no claim on the celebrant's blood.

    Mysterium Rituals available: Avoidance Ward, Earthbound Ward, Ensnaring Circle

    What do you answer?

    [] Trade the Day of Blood ritual

    [] Trade the Day of Change ritual

    [] Offer some other lore or item
    -[] Write in

    OOC: Zherys is not really interested in the other rituals except maybe the familiar one, though he is ambivalent on its cost/benefit ratio.
     
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  • Threadmarks
    • It is a good thing if Zherys introduces the Old Gods before our 'conquest' of Volantis. Early start on religious integration, and Bloodraven will have another pawn / distraction. Zherys too.

    @DragonParadox does it have to be mortal mages?
     
    @DragonParadox, had there been no exchange between libraries of Shadow Tower and Mysterium?
    I sort of assumed we'll gain all their "mundane" library now :/
     
    DragonParadox said:
    [] Trade the Day of Blood ritual

    [] Trade the Day of Change ritual

    [] Offer some other lore or item
    -[] Write in

    OOC: Zherys is not really interested in the other rituals except maybe the familiar one, though he is ambivalent on its cost/benefit ratio.
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    Okay, this is awkward and our own fault for not explaining. I'm not comfortable sharing rituals to grow Heart Trees at this stage. Also... none of these rituals being offered in exchange are anywhere close to as valuable. I love the book though, @DragonParadox! That was seriously great. Also the ritual to turn people into constructs is similarly fantastic. One wonders how the hell Red Priests got it, though.

    [X] Offer the Spirit Kinship Ritual for the Ensnaring Circle Ritual

    EDIT: I'm ambivalent, because we can easily tell Zherys to respect the Heart Trees or suffer our wrath, and it'll be fine. More Heart Trees is good for the Old Gods. However, even one of our rituals to grow Heart Trees is worth all three of his, so that should be kept in mind.
     
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