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

Thirteenth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC

"Merely apprehending a heinous diabolist, ladies and gentlemen. Do not be alarmed," you call out, voice carefully pitched to cut through the gathering panic without adding to it. "I am certain the gentlemen who usually gather here could have put paid this rogue had they but known him," you lie shamelessly with a bow in the direction of a gathering of colorfully-garbed bravos who preen at the words. With Dany's silver-winged form revealed it should be clear enough that the happenings today had something to do with dragons and their doings. However, so long as you do not reveal yourself in full, the Sealord can claim to have had some hand in it which aught to smooth over any issues over moving so openly in Braavos without offering a warning.

Speaking of Ferrego Antaryon, you ask your mother and Aradia to warn the Sealord of what transpired here while Maelor and Nuri are to head directly to Wind House to warn Alysande and the Silver Eye about Varys's presence, a request which Maelor takes with quiet agreement, melting into the crowd. Nuri, meanwhile, seizes the opportunity to walk slowly through the crowd, basking in their admiration as a flower does in the sun's light. She will be back soon and receive no small welcome, you suspect.

As you pick up Varys, your mother asks where you are taking him, her eyes hard as as she looks the bleeding spymaster up and down.

"North, to Bloodraven," you answer with a moment's hesitation at reminding her of the ancient Greenseer which had so frightened her upon her return to life.

Her answer is not one you had expected: "I think I should come... I want, I need to know how deep his treachery goes."

You stop short, in your rush to capture the diabolist, the servant of Tiamat who had sat upon the Usurper's small council, you had almost forgotten that Varys too had a past in your father's court as he slipped further and further into madness. Might he have had a hand in making the last vestiges of sanity and humanity crumble? Might he have done more than counsel that the gates be opened to the Lannisters?

These are clearly questions your mother aims to learn the answer to even though it might mean facing Brynden Rivers once again. Yet what could she gain from seeing his fate in person that you could not tell her. What purpose could that serve but to cause her pain.

"Mother, you have nothing to prove. If you insist I will take you, but..." you trail off, for once unsure of which words to choose.

"We don't want to see you get hurt," Dany says plainly.

"I... Alright," she gives a shaky laugh. "I think I am starting to understand why young knights so new-come to their spurs are so brash. I will go speak to the Sealord."


Mere moments later the blood of the sacrifice flows freely among the roots of the heart tree, this one a former slave, captured by the Inquisition, who spits upon you as he dies for being 'one of the masters'. You shake your head at the sheer waste of it all. How much more could he had been if he had not given himself into despair and sold himself into slavery worse than any mortal shackles?

Dany seems to pick up on your thoughts: "I'd be happy to fly up North if it meant there wouldn't be anyone deserving of being given to the Old Gods."

"Folks ain't gonna change that far no matter what ye do," Vee snorts. "There's always gonna be fools who think they ain't got nothing left ta lose."

"Or ones who believe they cannot lose," you add, looking down at Varys with disgust.

After the others are sealed in bottles you set your staff into the pool of blood and open your mind to the voices of the Old Gods. The world falls away in a curtain of green and in an instant you are once more in that hidden chamber under the hill where the Last Greenseer holds court from his throne of roots.

The single staring red eye opens in surprise on seeing first your company then the battered form of Varys. "And here I thought you had come to speak of the success of your mages in twining the nature of flame into the roots of the trees, Your Grace," he whispers. A lopsided smile pulls at his mouth. "I see you have matters of court and council in mind instead."

"Indeed, Lord Bloodraven," you bow. "I brought a gift of sorts, though you shall have to do some of the unwrapping..."

There is a time for mercy and for understanding, but Varys is well past that hour. Sooner would you forgive Damphair his madness than the man who has willingly and knowingly advanced the plots of Tiamat and Mammon both in some twisted notion of serving the powerless by making common cause with the darkest of powers.

After carefully stripping the eunuch of his prodigious collection of scrolls, wands, and talismans, all easily seen to the mage's eye, you weave a spell to find any other unpleasant surprises. You had expected a hollow tooth or some other means by which he might escape in death, but what you find is stranger and more disturbing still.

"He had armor mesh woven through his flesh..." Dany looks up from where a glint of silvery light shows through one of the wounds Nuri had made. "I'm not sure if I should be disgusted or impressed."

In addition to the 'armor' you find a complex mechanism including springs and poisoned needles carved into Varys's palate. Vee tells you it would kill him if it is not stroked in a particular manner within moments of Varys waking up. Who knew that all you had to do to kill the Spider is still his tongue?

"Can you look into his thoughts without drawing undue attention, my lord?" you ask, not from any distaste at doing so yourself, but reasoning that Bloodraven is the most likely to be able to pick through the hidden places of his mind to discover what which Varys's patrons may have hidden even from him.

"Certainly," replies the man who had been master of whisperers to a king and Hand to another. "Should any mortal man suffer such misfortune as to be dragged into the palace of winter and have his thoughts laid bare before their lidless gaze it matters little if they have leave to strip the thoughts directly or if they must use cruder means."

The hand upon the throne twitches in subtle arcane gestures. The roots writhe like serpents through the dark earth as... then something truly remarkable happens. Bloodraven laughs as hard as you have ever heard him do so, he laughs until he is left gasping and coughing for breath, a trickle of blood flowing unnoticed from the corner of his mouth.

"It seems, Your Grace, that even as the Baratheons have usurped the throne by the sword, the Lannisters did so in the bedroom, for all the 'Crowned Stag's' heirs were sired by the Kingslayer."

"The Kingslayer... the queen's brother?" Dany asks, shocked.

Every inch the Lannister... that is what you had thought of the royal children. It seems they had earned it fairly by being Lannister twice over. Thoughts fly through your mind like a flock of startled birds, satisfaction, calculation, even pity for the false prince and princess, even for the Kingslayer himself, to whom you are indebted for ending your father's life ere he could fulfill his final monstrous ambition.

"With Varys gone would any of his agents think to share this secret?" you ask urgently. Such an announcement could throw Westeros into chaos, drive the lords to rebellion ahead of any plan of yours.

"No... I do not think so," Brynden Rivers answers slowly. "The plans of the dark powers are no more ripe than yours... but the Spider was chief among those keeping Robert from being slain by his wife, who possesses both the tools and the will for the deed. You might need your own presence in King's Landing to... keep him safe."

Only now do you appreciate in full the reason he had laughed, though the jest is a touch bitter for your taste.

What questions do you ask next?

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OOC: Well here you go, you finally know IC because there is no way I could have had Varys not know. The reason I stopped here is because the update was getting long and I want the Blackfyre discussion to not be overshadowed by this announcement.