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

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superguy2876 said:
Harp strings plucked at the kindling of the heart.
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Doesn't Rhaella use Jeyne's Fiddle?
superguy2876 said:
Then finally, out an overall top down view of the entirety of Sorcerer's deep. The final movements of the buildings as they slot into place and then suddenly. It stops.
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Overall great, but you could finish with the castle rising out of the hill overlooking the city, with a dragon gently roosting on top, partially covering the castle with its wings, and looking out over the city.
 
I hope some day when we know the whole history of the world we can make a book and name it " the tome of ages or the tale of prime material"

[X] Duesal
 
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We don't need to convince all the wildlings to leave now. They can serve as a warning system for when the others truly start moving in force and someone we can use to figure out what sort of forces will make up the Others army before they reach the wall. Bloodraven might even want to use them to strike at Others's remnants from the last war. So it might be better to just provide
equipment and training to some of them. We should certainly evacute non-combatants and those who do not wish to fight the others though.

Honestly, I am quite a bit worried about letting the White Walkers even reach the Wall. It's been 6-8k years and at this point they must have surely figured out a way to deal with the entire thing. But I doubt we have the strength to challenge them out in the field, so it sounds like the best option.
 
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superguy2876 said:
Omake: A Watchers Imagination​

Some Point during the festival

Ilaria Naerys had two loves in her life. Money and music. Having received a small inheritance from her father, she had invested where she could and used the rest to buy goods off ships and sell them to merchants. It had enough to go the the odd exclusive show, but nothing too fancy, get too expensive and people would do the work themselves. But people liked convenience her father had always said.

So when she heard that the Iron Bank had started a joint venture with the Dragon King, A company known as Astral Currents, which promised to provide nigh instantaneous communication between Braavos and Sorcerer's Deep. With more locations coming in the future. She immediately pulled all the money from investments that she could. Re-invested in any company that was moving to utilise the new mode of exchange, and incorporate a company to use it herself.

The success had been astronomical. She had started off renting space on other ships simply to get her goods out to the required locations. She now owned 5 of her own transport ships, crew and all, and more than enough money to see her comfortable for the rest of her life. Now secure in her future, she turned back to her other love.

Though she now patronized her own small set of artists, it seemed here too the Dragon King held all the aces. A dragon's hoard indeed.

The first was a lady that had seemingly sprung out of nowhere, for all she could tell. None of her peers, or those that she patroned, could say anything about her past. Having never even heard of her until now.

But then taking new names was common among artists. There were those that would dispose of all the fame and fortune in the world, if it meant they could lovingly craft their myth and legend from the ground up. And what a legend she would become. It was no wonder the Dragon King himself had taken notice. It was said she could sing the very essence of fire itself into her words. And now that Ilaria had seen and heard her perform, she could understand why.

Her voice stoked the fires of emotion. Harp strings plucked at the kindling of the heart. And as the performance had continued, grew into a blazing bonfire. And yet still she controlled it with all the skill of a master blacksmith at his forge. With her performance she shaped the hearts and souls of those around her, before finally reaching the a crescendo and quenching in a carefully prepared oil. There had been a pause as she seemed to be admiring her handiwork. Then curtsied and began to exit the circle. The applause had not started until she had almost reached the exit. And did not stop for some minutes after she had.

"Mi' Lady."

Ilaria looked up slightly startled, she had been thinking far too intently. Her hot beverage was almost cold. This trip was entirely leisure, best to leave the thinking for work.

"Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you, but the performance you wanted to see starts soon."

"No trouble, it's certainly better to not miss it," Ilaria indicated that she would follow.

The two guides, a bull-man, and a little valyrian pair. Had been recommended by an acquaintance. And the cost had certainly been worth it. They had been in the city since almost the beginning of the Kings reign, and knew where to find anything you could want. The Bull-man was not only a guide, but also an excellent bodyguard, and parted the sea of people with ease. The valyrian would run ahead, leaping along rooftops and lines, anticipating trouble and re-routing if needed. He could also deliver messages and fetch food and other goods, about as fast as you possibly could without the aid of magic.

As they walked to the circle, Ilaria's mind wandered to the thoughts of bards yet again. Or one bard in particular. The king's other bard. In terms of history, it was utter chaos. The absolute opposite of the lady with a voice of fire. It was impossible to determine the truth from the fiction. The rumors that surrounded him ranged from the fanciful, to the outright terrifying. She had heard that he was a young man from Westeros. But others had said it was she, and she was from the Summer Isles, far south. Still others said that he was from North and east, all the way from Ibben. The most preposterous by far had been that he was not actually human, or even humanoid. But in fact a floating eyeball covered in smaller eyes. She had seen some crazy things since arriving at Sorcerer's Deep, but she doubted the king would let such a monster just wander around.

And that didn't even touch on his supposed powers. She had heard that magic stopped working wherever he gazed. That you would go mad at the sight of him. But others said that no, you would fall deeply in love at just the sound of his voice. Another said he could play an entire orchestra solo. Still another said he could build entire cities just by singing them into existence. And finally that just having talked to him would bring out the best in you.

There was only one thing that seemed to be agreed upon, no matter who you asked. He went by only one name of indeterminate origin, Xor.

Fortunately in Sorcerer's Deep, it seemed to be mostly the beneficial rumors. But enough of this, she would see for herself soon enough. She ascended the stands until she found her seats, not quite the best, but a good view and fairly spacious.

Ilaria got comfortable as she waited for the current display to end, an acrobatics troupe it seemed. They complete a big finally with an impressive display of spins, flips, and twists. Before for taking a bow to the applauding audience. A group of handlers rush out to help pack up their stuff, and finally the circle is clear.

A Number of Instruments are bought out just off centre of the circle. Not quite an orchestra, but perhaps some truth to that rumor. Some drums, a harp, a flute, a couple of cellos. Finally, a woman, clearly of summer isle origin, walks out to the instruments. The moment she has, the crowd is almost completely silent.

The woman moves to the drums and starts playing. The beat is steady, simple but powerful. Then she takes a step back, and it continues to play. She steps up to the next set of drums, layering the beat. And again stepping to the next instrument. She picks up the flute and plays a low tone, shifting slightly every few beats. Stepping away again she moves on to the next. Each instrument adds more to the song, until she is finally playing the last cello.

A deep measured song, contemplating, but powerful, inexorable. It emphasizes the feeling of preparedness, of methodical process, but filled with insight, creativity, and hope. Just as Ilaria is sure she can see the work of some grand machine in her mind's eye, the building of an empire, the work of its people. She sees Ground in front of the woman ripple.

And there rises up a miniature city. It's clearly small, the buildings are run down and the keep to the side is falling apart.

The view shifts rock seeming to slide and shift as the keep becomes the centerpoint of the display. There in the courtyard, a Figure with white hair holds out its hand, red shifts across the ground and a tree of white sprouts and grows rapidly, flowering with leaves in the same blood red.

Again the view shifts, The whole city in display again. The buildings move and writhe, seeming to knit themselves together again, no longer completely dilapidated. The green fire sprouts across one side of the city. The buildings fade into the ground as a man and a bull-man lifting a bucket together onto the flame.

The view shows the whole city again, docks, and many buildings completely destroyed. The view zooms in on the destruction, which steadily fades.

Then suddenly road sprout, webbing out across the ground, into the familiar pattern of the Sorcerer's Deep. Old roads widening, buildings shifting along or fading into the ground altogether. The view zooms back on the docks, stone rippling like water, as the old docks submerge and new ones arise piece by piece. Buildings begin to slowly rise along the docks edge.

The view moves to the Silver serpent enterprise offices, showing them rise out of the ground, details fading into existence as the pieces lock in place. You see inside people shaking hands, bargaining goods, going over ledgers.

Then the library. Rising and showing people pulling books and reading. The city hall, a hearing in session. The baths, people wandering in and out of rooms wearing bathrobes. The Inn of the Golden Hearth, seeming to appear out of thin air this time, as opposed to building up from the ground. The Legion HQ. The view moves out into the street, showing a procession of legionnaires, armor gleaming.

The the view moves to show the moon singers temple, Its causeways and the great telescope in the center. Then out to the sea again, the temple of the surging sea, rippling in a way similar to the surface of a pond. The temple of Yss, labyrinth-like curved walls rise out of the ground, and just before it is covered over, it's possible to see a hazy coiled creature in the middle of a pool in the innermost chamber.

The scene shifts again, the circle of battle rising out of the ground whole, seats clicking into place. There's spectators and two groups frozen in the middle of a battle. Then the university, a class in session, people talking pointing at a model of something.

Then the Philosophers tree, rising in the same way as the previous. A shadow from nowhere is cast on the ground, and out of it, up rises a dark tower. Inside someone traces a finger across a book, then holds out a hand and a flame appears. The Planar transport terminal, a great gate rises, tracks moving into place, people moving through, taking goods and returning with others.

The view moves around the entire city, people moving by, humans, bull-men, valyrians, serpents, giants, and more. The Growth of the healing tree, view zooming in on the face carved into it.

Then finally, out an overall top down view of the entirety of Sorcerer's deep. The final movements of the buildings as they slot into place and then suddenly. It stops.

Ilaria lets go of a breath she didn't notice she was holding. Looking around she noticed everyone else seemingly enraptured by the display. Each one by one coming to their senses as they realised it had come to and end.

OOC: So I realised something. A criminal lack of Xor. So I decided to fix it. This is the first part in a small series (was supposed to be a single omake, but i realised that it was way too long for that) focused on the under appreciated abomination. I think the whole city scene could be better, if you have any suggestions let me know and I might change it. Listening to the music during the second half of this post is mandatory. :V

Also yes i know the instruments don't match what is used in the music i linked, I don't entirely know what would have been available and tried to put in what I thought would be able to do a reasonable rendition of it.
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Hell yeah! More Xor!

Nice work, dude.
 
TotallyNotEvil said:
Doesn't Rhaella use Jeyne's Fiddle?
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Not exclusively


Takesis said:
Sandor VS Monk! Sandor VS Monk! Sandor VS Monk! Sandor VS ... no?

*pouts

Fine!

[X] Duesal
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Sorry it's too late to roll combat for me. I think we will do an update.

Vote closed.
Adhoc vote count started by DragonParadox on Mar 4, 2019 at 2:59 PM, finished with 285676 posts and 11 votes.
  • [X] Join in the celebration of the victory against Winter, and take the opportunity to ask after the history of the Thenns
    -[X] What do they remember of the Dawn Age when they first settled these lands? Who led them?
    -[X] Who set the Landwards? Also, can they tell us what the Landwards do? How are they maintained?
    -[X] How did the lands change after the Wall was built? What did they see of how the Free Folk lost their heritage while the Thenns alone remained?
    -[X] What is their memory of the Age of Heroes?
    -[X] Ask of the Magnar, who he is, how he rose to become Magnar, etc.
    -[X] Current Situation
    --[X] What types of monsters have they encountered over the past few decades?
    --[X] Ask about their relations with the various nearby clans, any notable people they're aware of as well as their rough locations, etc.
    --[X] What lore have they retained for the creation of items of magic?
    --[X] Talk about the coming Winter. What do the Thenns plan to do about it? In their own legends they settled after the Long Night's power had mostly passed, but now it comes again in full in a few scant years. And the Thenns stand closer to the heart of the Others' power than nearly every other tribe of man.
    --[X] Tell them that you have an offer for every man, giant or other warm-blooded being in the north. A plot of land in a place where they will curse the heat, the ground is fertile and food is plenty for anyone who doesn't shy away from honest work to earn it. All they have to do for that is to accept the law of the land.
    --[X] Especially invite their lorekeepers, godis or druids to send someone to your lands. You have a grand ritual in the honor of the gods planned and it would be a great occasion for them to witness. Doubly so because they pointed us to the best morsel for it.
    ---[X] In addition to any druids they may have, a few other Thenns the Magnar trusts (or possibly even the Magnar himself if he can be spared) would be equally welcomed as guests so they may see our lands with their own eyes.
    --[X] Make it clear that you are not offering them shelter. You are gathering an army in the south. One that is even now being prepared for the night to come. And your idea is not to merely hold the Wall against the dead.
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superguy2876 said:
Omake: A Watchers Imagination​

Some Point during the festival

Ilaria Naerys had two loves in her life. Money and music. Having received a small inheritance from her father, she had invested where she could and used the rest to buy goods off ships and sell them to merchants. It had enough to go the the odd exclusive show, but nothing too fancy, get too expensive and people would do the work themselves. But people liked convenience her father had always said.

So when she heard that the Iron Bank had started a joint venture with the Dragon King, A company known as Astral Currents, which promised to provide nigh instantaneous communication between Braavos and Sorcerer's Deep. With more locations coming in the future. She immediately pulled all the money from investments that she could. Re-invested in any company that was moving to utilise the new mode of exchange, and incorporate a company to use it herself.

The success had been astronomical. She had started off renting space on other ships simply to get her goods out to the required locations. She now owned 5 of her own transport ships, crew and all, and more than enough money to see her comfortable for the rest of her life. Now secure in her future, she turned back to her other love.

Though she now patronized her own small set of artists, it seemed here too the Dragon King held all the aces. A dragon's hoard indeed.

The first was a lady that had seemingly sprung out of nowhere, for all she could tell. None of her peers, or those that she patroned, could say anything about her past. Having never even heard of her until now.

But then taking new names was common among artists. There were those that would dispose of all the fame and fortune in the world, if it meant they could lovingly craft their myth and legend from the ground up. And what a legend she would become. It was no wonder the Dragon King himself had taken notice. It was said she could sing the very essence of fire itself into her words. And now that Ilaria had seen and heard her perform, she could understand why.

Her voice stoked the fires of emotion. Harp strings plucked at the kindling of the heart. And as the performance had continued, grew into a blazing bonfire. And yet still she controlled it with all the skill of a master blacksmith at his forge. With her performance she shaped the hearts and souls of those around her, before finally reaching the a crescendo and quenching in a carefully prepared oil. There had been a pause as she seemed to be admiring her handiwork. Then curtsied and began to exit the circle. The applause had not started until she had almost reached the exit. And did not stop for some minutes after she had.

"Mi' Lady."

Ilaria looked up slightly startled, she had been thinking far too intently. Her hot beverage was almost cold. This trip was entirely leisure, best to leave the thinking for work.

"Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you, but the performance you wanted to see starts soon."

"No trouble, it's certainly better to not miss it," Ilaria indicated that she would follow.

The two guides, a bull-man, and a little valyrian pair. Had been recommended by an acquaintance. And the cost had certainly been worth it. They had been in the city since almost the beginning of the Kings reign, and knew where to find anything you could want. The Bull-man was not only a guide, but also an excellent bodyguard, and parted the sea of people with ease. The valyrian would run ahead, leaping along rooftops and lines, anticipating trouble and re-routing if needed. He could also deliver messages and fetch food and other goods, about as fast as you possibly could without the aid of magic.

As they walked to the circle, Ilaria's mind wandered to the thoughts of bards yet again. Or one bard in particular. The king's other bard. In terms of history, it was utter chaos. The absolute opposite of the lady with a voice of fire. It was impossible to determine the truth from the fiction. The rumors that surrounded him ranged from the fanciful, to the outright terrifying. She had heard that he was a young man from Westeros. But others had said it was she, and she was from the Summer Isles, far south. Still others said that he was from North and east, all the way from Ibben. The most preposterous by far had been that he was not actually human, or even humanoid. But in fact a floating eyeball covered in smaller eyes. She had seen some crazy things since arriving at Sorcerer's Deep, but she doubted the king would let such a monster just wander around.

And that didn't even touch on his supposed powers. She had heard that magic stopped working wherever he gazed. That you would go mad at the sight of him. But others said that no, you would fall deeply in love at just the sound of his voice. Another said he could play an entire orchestra solo. Still another said he could build entire cities just by singing them into existence. And finally that just having talked to him would bring out the best in you.

There was only one thing that seemed to be agreed upon, no matter who you asked. He went by only one name of indeterminate origin, Xor.

Fortunately in Sorcerer's Deep, it seemed to be mostly the beneficial rumors. But enough of this, she would see for herself soon enough. She ascended the stands until she found her seats, not quite the best, but a good view and fairly spacious.

Ilaria got comfortable as she waited for the current display to end, an acrobatics troupe it seemed. They complete a big finally with an impressive display of spins, flips, and twists. Before for taking a bow to the applauding audience. A group of handlers rush out to help pack up their stuff, and finally the circle is clear.

A Number of Instruments are bought out just off centre of the circle. Not quite an orchestra, but perhaps some truth to that rumor. Some drums, a harp, a flute, a couple of cellos. Finally, a woman, clearly of summer isle origin, walks out to the instruments. The moment she has, the crowd is almost completely silent.

The woman moves to the drums and starts playing. The beat is steady, simple but powerful. Then she takes a step back, and it continues to play. She steps up to the next set of drums, layering the beat. And again stepping to the next instrument. She picks up the flute and plays a low tone, shifting slightly every few beats. Stepping away again she moves on to the next. Each instrument adds more to the song, until she is finally playing the last cello.

A deep measured song, contemplating, but powerful, inexorable. It emphasizes the feeling of preparedness, of methodical process, but filled with insight, creativity, and hope. Just as Ilaria is sure she can see the work of some grand machine in her mind's eye, the building of an empire, the work of its people. She sees Ground in front of the woman ripple.

And there rises up a miniature city. It's clearly small, the buildings are run down and the keep to the side is falling apart.

The view shifts rock seeming to slide and shift as the keep becomes the centerpoint of the display. There in the courtyard, a Figure with white hair holds out its hand, red shifts across the ground and a tree of white sprouts and grows rapidly, flowering with leaves in the same blood red.

Again the view shifts, The whole city in display again. The buildings move and writhe, seeming to knit themselves together again, no longer completely dilapidated. The green fire sprouts across one side of the city. The buildings fade into the ground as a man and a bull-man lifting a bucket together onto the flame.

The view shows the whole city again, docks, and many buildings completely destroyed. The view zooms in on the destruction, which steadily fades.

Then suddenly road sprout, webbing out across the ground, into the familiar pattern of the Sorcerer's Deep. Old roads widening, buildings shifting along or fading into the ground altogether. The view zooms back on the docks, stone rippling like water, as the old docks submerge and new ones arise piece by piece. Buildings begin to slowly rise along the docks edge.

The view moves to the Silver serpent enterprise offices, showing them rise out of the ground, details fading into existence as the pieces lock in place. You see inside people shaking hands, bargaining goods, going over ledgers.

Then the library. Rising and showing people pulling books and reading. The city hall, a hearing in session. The baths, people wandering in and out of rooms wearing bathrobes. The Inn of the Golden Hearth, seeming to appear out of thin air this time, as opposed to building up from the ground. The Legion HQ. The view moves out into the street, showing a procession of legionnaires, armor gleaming.

The the view moves to show the moon singers temple, Its causeways and the great telescope in the center. Then out to the sea again, the temple of the surging sea, rippling in a way similar to the surface of a pond. The temple of Yss, labyrinth-like curved walls rise out of the ground, and just before it is covered over, it's possible to see a hazy coiled creature in the middle of a pool in the innermost chamber.

The scene shifts again, the circle of battle rising out of the ground whole, seats clicking into place. There's spectators and two groups frozen in the middle of a battle. Then the university, a class in session, people talking pointing at a model of something.

Then the Philosophers tree, rising in the same way as the previous. A shadow from nowhere is cast on the ground, and out of it, up rises a dark tower. Inside someone traces a finger across a book, then holds out a hand and a flame appears. The Planar transport terminal, a great gate rises, tracks moving into place, people moving through, taking goods and returning with others.

The view moves around the entire city, people moving by, humans, bull-men, valyrians, serpents, giants, and more. The Growth of the healing tree, view zooming in on the face carved into it.

Then finally, out an overall top down view of the entirety of Sorcerer's deep. The final movements of the buildings as they slot into place and then suddenly. It stops.

Ilaria lets go of a breath she didn't notice she was holding. Looking around she noticed everyone else seemingly enraptured by the display. Each one by one coming to their senses as they realised it had come to and end.

OOC: So I realised something. A criminal lack of Xor. So I decided to fix it. This is the first part in a small series (was supposed to be a single omake, but i realised that it was way too long for that) focused on the under appreciated abomination. I think the whole city scene could be better, if you have any suggestions let me know and I might change it. Listening to the music during the second half of this post is mandatory. :V

Also yes i know the instruments don't match what is used in the music i linked, I don't entirely know what would have been available and tried to put in what I thought would be able to do a reasonable rendition of it.
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There is never enough Xor!

And did you just describe the opening cinematic to this quest? Yes you did. We certainly lacked that.

Now I feel the need to write about another character... I won't make promises, but I'll think about something.
 
Azel said:
I'm kinda away from that since we got Explosive Packs and Fungal Spore Flasks.
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If you want a real terror have a think about what my Sultan's Tributes will do once you have a wing of Drakenbeast drop a volley and follow it up with some alchemist fire.

The growth rate only initially halts due to heat metal effect ending, the potential is still there. You would need Rina to clean it up though because you're looking at a field of frostbite and fire makes it grow.

egoo said:
mate, please fucking drop it, or I will block you.
I have no more patience for this fucking topic.
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I found the suggestion entirely reasonable and @tarrangar was quite clear on advocating for the fungal pod not the Kongmato. Calm dude, you've gotten a little knee jerky.
 
Deliste said:
If you want a real terror have a think about what my Sultan's Tributes will do once you have a wing of Drakenbeast drop a volley and follow it up with some alchemist fire.

The growth rate only initially halts due to heat metal effect ending, the potential is still there. You would need Rina to clean it up though because you're looking at a field of frostbite and fire makes it grow.



I found the suggestion entirely reasonable and @tarrangar was quite clear on advocating for the fungal pod not the Kongmato. Calm dude, you've gotten a little knee jerky.
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We only made 100 of them this month. We need to speak with the Shaitan and Djinni bigwigs to give them a demonstration of effectiveness. They might want to buy some, but should be able to mass produce their own soon enough.

They'll be a great special munition for the AG Fightercraft to use on the Plane of Fire.
 
Goldfish said:
but should be able to mass produce their own soon enough.
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But mah military secrets. :(

I dunno how to stop them outside of investing more resources to shield their workings but I'd really prefer they pay for them, haven't even seen my babies work and already others are lining up to mass produce independently. That feels sucky.
 
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Horde Thief Chapter XL
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    Horde Thief
    Chapter 40​

    The call I'd been expecting came most of a week after our visit to Florida. I picked up the phone, ready to snarl something murderous if it turned out to be yet another attempt to sell me something I most definitely didn't need. Right up until I recognised the voice on the other end, and before they got past the first syllable.

    "Hello Harry." I almost dropped the receiver as Anastasia Luccio's voice greeted me, sending my thoughts rushing down a maze of possibilities. We'd not talked in, stars and stones, it was years now. Why was she calling me? I mean, ok, I wasn't really going to complain, but it did leave me with a rather immediate question. How to address her?

    "Ah, Captain," I began, and a laugh I hadn't realised I'd missed bounced down the slightly crackly line.

    "That isn't how I signed my letter to you," she said, all but making the statement a question, and the wicked smile on her face was palpable. I somehow manged not to sputter out half a reply as I absorbed what she'd said, and as it did my expression softened into a smile of my own. One she'd know, just as I knew hers.

    "Hello, Ana," I said, a touch ruefully, and she treated me to another rolling laugh, though this one was shorter. Anastasia and I had been, well, an item for a time. It had never been truly serious, but we'd made each other laugh, and enjoyed each other's company, deeply. Unfortunately, she'd been subtly pushed into the relationship by the mental influence of a spy on the White Council, something that had been discovered only after I'd revealed him. We'd never done anything she hadn't wanted to do, but hadn't been her making the choices. That had ended our relationship, though we'd remained allies, and even friends.

    Except I hadn't actually talked to her since a few days before my death, and her letter to me had been the first contact we'd had since. She'd not been impersonal in her letter, but I'd still worried a little about the two years spent totally out of communication. That, well, wasn't what friends were meant to do. Then again, nobody has ever accused me of being a good judge of women. The utter trainwreck that had been my love life until a little less than a year ago was a rather powerful statement in support of that.

    "They've decided, haven't they," it was the only reason that Anastasia would be calling me, though the fact that it was her doing so said several very interesting things.

    "They have," there was an edge of deep satisfaction in the voice of the Captain of the Wardens, one I'd heard before after hard fought victories. "The Merlin knew that there's been a movement building in support of what this Mr Targaryen put forward," her pronunciation of Viserys' name was loaded with meaning, "but he and his allies have been put somewhat on the spot by the speed with which he's been moving. Thanks to your warning, we weren't."

    It hadn't been easy getting that message through without others noticing it, but I'd done it. And thanks to that, when Viserys had outlined his request to the White Council, those who supported a more preventative approach to the Laws had been ready. I'd never have expected to have the Captain of the Wardens herself leading the charge on that, but knowing her as I did, I knew why she was. Regardless of how strong the White Council had exited the war with the Red Court, the Wardens were still stretched thin. Anything that could reduce that strain would be something she'd support.

    "I'm glad I could help," I said, and I meant it. My bringing her attention to the Paranet had started her down this path, and I was just as invested in its success as she was. Possibly more so, but at the same time, it wasn't my political reputation on the line. Not that I really had one.

    "Just deliver on what you promised," she replied firmly. "We won't get another chance like this, Harry, not now that we're out in the open. The only reason we were able to force this was thanks to your friend making the Merlin more focused on him as a danger than us. He tried to squash things, and because we were ready for it, we surprised him." Unsaid was the number of favours she must have called in to do so.

    Anastasia had spent years building up support for this within the White Council's political networks, and as Captain of the Wardens her opinion carried considerable weight in matters pertaining to the Laws. And yet, she'd needed those years to prepare, and an outside individual sending the conservative sections of the Council into a figurative tailspin on the matter to actually get things to this point.

    "He will," I had no doubt of that. "After Florida, I don't think he's willing to accept even the idea of failure. This is important to him, Ana. I don't know exactly why, but it's important." She made a noncommittal sound down the phone, but that was understandable. She hadn't met Viserys.

    "Your report looks like it got very ugly," she said softly. "The meeting will take place in two days. Edinburgh." My thoughts jammed on the last word.

    "What?" I didn't snap, but it was a close run thing. Edinburgh? Why – it hit me just before Anastasia continued, as if I hadn't said a word.

    "The White Council of Wizards extends a formal invitation of audience to the being known as Viserys Targaryen. The affair shall be conducted under a pledge of hospitality from both sides, and with a guarantee of safe passage to and from the Halls of Edinburgh." She paused, and I could see the small quirk of a smile before she spoke again. "You told me he could speak with the best of them. That he got through to the members of the Senior Council like he did was proof enough of that. And if we want to end this now, before the Merlin can recover, this is how we do it."

    A formal audience. The last time the Council had offered one of those had been to Duchess Arianna Ortega of the Red Court, just before the war with them had come to an abrupt and terminal end for her and all the rest of her kind. But she was right. With the Council not in any formal state of war, only continuous skirmishes with the Fomor, any vote on this would be one for the full membership of the body. The only way to call that together was a formal audience, and my already considerable respect for Anastasia rose again as I realised how difficult an invitation to Viserys must have been to arrange.

    "Are you my contact for this, Captain?" I asked, deliberately formal.

    "I am, Warden." Luccio confirmed. "You are directed to deliver this invitation to Mr Targaryen post-haste, and to convey his reply back to me so that proper arrangements can be made."

    "Then I will do as the Council commands," I let the hard tone fade into a more personal one. "Thanks, Ana."

    "Just be right." And she hung up. I looked down at the phone for long enough that it clicked to a dial tone, then shook my head to clear the wild thoughts from it. An audience, stars and stones. That might just be enough. And if anything was going to let Viserys really cut loose with the fire I'd seen building inside of him ever since Florida, that would be it. He'd not stopped his work with Molly and I, but his focus had drifted elsewhere, onto the approaching meeting with the White Council I guessed.

    I checked the time, I had a lesson with Naomi today, going through the basic motions like I'd done with Molly. Naomi was, for now, far more amenable to listening and doing what she was told than my first apprentice ever had been, and the quiet girl had somehow ended up dubbed a member of the extended family by Maggie. If she was an older sister or a cousin apparently depended on some arcane confluence of the day of the week and other factors that was entirely beyond me. If I left now, given the traffic, I'd be there with some time to talk to Viserys.

    Doing it over the phone would have been easier, but at the very least I owed it to Viserys to take this personally. And, of course, I'd be going there anyway. Maggie was out with the Carpenters today, Karin was busy with Chicago Alliance work, and Bonnie would be fine on her own. Still, I'd make sure she knew I was going.

    "Bonnie," I called, putting down the phone and walking upstairs to where my less corporeal daughter was happily devouring a stack of magazines. Not literally, honest. "I'm going to be heading out early today, is that ok?"

    She made an odd little sound, and then her eyelights flicked over to me. "Naomi's lessons are today." She chirped. "So something you need to talk with Viserys about?"

    "Yes," I smiled. "Will you be ok until Karin gets back?" We weren't living together, not technically, but Karin was at my home a lot, now.

    "Of course." Bonnie told me, blissfully unconcerned. "I've got more to read."

    "Alright then. Tell Karin I'll be back normal time, ok?"

    "Yes, dad." The words were still a little hard to process in the context of my being one, but I was getting there. After nine months or so, maybe, but that still counts. I headed out.

    ***​

    Traffic in Chicago has never been exactly sane, but at least the massive hearse I had now, courtesy of…someone in Winter, wasn't about to be run over by a modern SUV. It was more likely to do the running over itself. I'd had some covert adjustments made to the monstrous car, mundane measures but still effective. I couldn't make the vehicle bombproof, maybe, but I could make sure that the next time a bunch of armoured pixies tried to kill me in it, they'd have a much harder time of it. And it even ran smoothly. Most of the time.

    I pulled up the drive of Viserys' home, the dark blue monstrosity growling up the drive. I was sure an ancient Cadillac with a flame motif in electric purple on the side was entirely unsuspicious and normal for the Gold Coast. Hells bells, for all I knew it might be. I parked on the gravel in front of the house, and let the car click and cool for a second before stepping out, wondering if it would be Kessa or Daor today. The two very similar women were Naomi's caretakers when Viserys was away, but the purple eyes and pale hair that matched Viserys himself made me wonder exactly what they were. He'd not come here with anyone else, so they had to be servitors of a sort, though whatever they were, Viserys clearly trusted them around a child.

    Given what he'd gone through to save and then protect the child, and that he was making sure she wasn't growing up an orphan captive to the system that had been less than good to myself, I wasn't in much of a mood to argue. Even given the detached, protective menace that both of the apparent women radiated around their charge.

    "Harry?" Viserys came out through the doors to the place as I walked up the steps, dressed more casually than I'd seen him. Of course, it could all just be a veil, but there was something quite odd about seeing him dressed in jeans and an undershirt. "I thought your lesson with Naomi wasn't for another twenty minutes?"

    "It's not," I told him, coming to a stop and leaning forward whilst pitching my voice low. It never hurt to be careful. "The Council called. They've come to a decision."

    "Ah," his eyes flashed with something very hard. "Please then, come in."

    A short walk to his office followed, and I laid it out for him. What Anastasia had told me, what she specifically hadn't, and what she'd managed to do.

    "The White Council doesn't given out invitations like this lightly, Viserys," I explained, finishing up. "And if it's been extended then they're going to be meeting anyway, probably to discuss this matter. From what Luccio said, the Merlin would probably win that vote without something changing it, but," I paused, and Viserys smiled that same, dangerous smile that I'd last seen on his face when he'd been about to drop the remains of the Fomor's last American stronghold into the Atlantic.

    "But there is something to change it." He nodded. "Thank you, Harry. When you get home, tell Captain Luccio that I accept. I can work with this."
     
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    • What's this? A Horde Thief update that's before midnight? Say it ain't so!

    I think there will be one more chapter between this and the Epic Dragon Emperor Socials hitting the entire White Council square in the face. @Azel this is the speech I was going to ask for your help with, I hope you're still happy to do so. I can do speeches for Viserys, I think Hearthfire and some others speak for themselves, but this is more your type of speech than mine, I feel.

    You'll be waiting on the next PW section for the update to this, but I know (I think) where that's going even if the where is going to be a bit atypical for me. Should be within the week, regardless – I'm pretty good about keeping to that. Also wtf is it with these chapters refusing to stay below 2k words. I actively started on this today.
     
    Deliste said:
    But mah military secrets. :(

    I dunno how to stop them outside of investing more resources to shield their workings but I'd really prefer they pay for them, haven't even seen my babies work and already others are lining up to mass produce independently. That feels sucky.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Well, would they be able to? Their environments are very well suited to mass producing things, and they certainly don't have a flesh forge.

    Edit: Unless it's done via pure alchemy... in which case, I dunno.
     
    Mind you, I think there is a niche for the hydra poison in military use. We could use Lazy Dog bombs and coat them with the stuff. That turns even a glancing hit on a person lethal.
     
    Part MMDCLXII: A Watchful Land
  • Threadmarks
    • A Watchful Land ​

    Twenty-First Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC

    Oddly enough, to judge from the standards of other folk at least, the Thenns do not seem overly concerned with you giving a swift answer to the Magnar's offer, content to wait a day or two... or even ten in celebration. It's not every day they see a mountain smote to ruin or a dragon in the sky bringing fire and fury to their foes.

    The mead flows freely, the meats are choice and savory, even the goat cheese pleasantly sharp upon the tongue, in many ways a better feast than many a poor lord's keep south of the Wall could boast. For all that these lands are harsh and perilous, they are also rich and their stewards have been thrifty and wise to gather so much without any trade worth the name. You spot a handful of iron weapons among the crowd, traded or stolen from the South before being passed from hand to hand all the way up to Thenn, but that is about the only thing worth bartering with any regularity with the neighboring tribes and even that more for prestige than practicality.

    As Waymar oft reminds you, bronze is in truth a better metal than iron, more likely to bend rather than break and it holds a finer edge for longer. What made iron the king of metals for so long was how common it was and easier to forge, and out here it is anything but common, or so the Thenns think. You suspect that were you to bring miners knowledgeable in finding iron ore to the Frostfangs they would strike a vein sooner rather than later, but that is not a point you make aloud for you have no reason to give an already stubborn folk more of a reason to stay and face the coming Night. After all, if the legends are true then their ancestors faced the last Long Night sword in hand also in these lands, though they were not Thenns then.

    The storyteller is more than proud to recount the tale of the Land-taking, for all it is so old the very shape of the words had changed while the ancient stanzas had been passed down from one elder to another down the long ages. It is said that during the Long Night when the bitter winds howled and hope was scarcest an army of the First Men had been sent to march to the Lands of Always Winter, they had been sent to die, that with their blood they might buy time for the rising of the Wall. So had the lands north of the Haunted Forest but south of the Ice Fields come to be called the Deadlands, for there they made their stand and there they perished almost to the last.

    Most of those who fled were scattered bands that ate roots and dwelt in dank caves, but one host endured and withdrew from the field bloodied but whole in purpose under the leadership of a man called Thenn. It was he who lead them, some say by sorcery, others by cunning wit and strength of arm, to the vale that now bears his name. Here the hungry winds beat less and here were yet beasts surviving upon mosses and lichen growing around the hot springs that in those days were common but have now turned bitter and stale with the passing of the years. Here were raised the runestones...

    Even with full bellies and the warm glow of mead on their cheeks you can still feel the tension in the room when the discussion comes to that, for this is clearly not a thing oft spoken of to outsiders, but then again you were hardly common travelers. Thus you discover that those called only the 'Lost Tribes' were Thenn after a manner once, and it was they who most often carved the runestones with bronze chisels dipped in heart's blood. These Lost Tribes supposedly grew lofty and proud in their skills, building great barrows for their Magnars rather than burning their dead and scattering the ashes as had been done been in the aftermath of the great battle when men retook the field.

    Here the storyteller stutters over some sin or vice of the fallen Thenns, and when you realize what it must be you laugh. "They named the Magnar's son 'Magnar' and passed the lordship upon the lines of blood rather than letting them be claimed, didn't they?"

    "Yes, it is so," the wispy-haired singer hangs his head while Styr shakes his head and smiles, having enough of your measure to know you would not take it ill.

    "To each land its own customs," you wave away the apology. "Though I will say this much, were you to ask the opinion of everyone who can bear a weapon or is passed their fifteenth year on any matter the grain would be rotting in the fields and we would still be counting hands."

    The Lost Tribes became secretive, withdrawing to their own vales to work their craft in secret they claimed, though many legends tell that they had fallen under the shadow of Winter by then and so as their lore grew deep their loins grew barren and their blood died out.

    "In the old days you could grow oats in those vales, but now all they are good for it grazing goats, assuming you can find a goatherd crazy enough to go up there," Styr explains.

    Goram, Elda's husband and Styr's cousin, leans across the table and calls: "No need to blow your own horn that much, you're already the Magnar!"

    "You were one of those goatherds, then?" Waymar asks politely.

    "Aye, there's things to be found in those old halls for those with the balls for it." The Magnar taps his own armor, the runes upon it glinting in the firelight. "Lost my first ear to the cold that day, but it was a good trade to make." The way he says it makes it clear that he is speaking of the powers of Winter, not just the season. What most of Westeros has forgotten the Thenns remember, but your fear it is that very pride in surviving that might be their undoing if they insist on remaining here.

    "Have you still among you those who remember the runes and can work them?" you ask, bringing matters back to their precarious protections.

    "Only three we had left when I was a boy but I have had more trained since, some with tomb-bought lore," the Magnar replies. "Lokar went mad looking into things he aught not have peered into and we had to put him down, but he knew the peril same as a hunter going out to trap a shadowcat."

    From the fact that this 'Lokar' still has a name to be remembered by you suspect his death was good by the measure of his folk, but you do not press, asking instead: "What did they learn?"

    "How to mend broken boundary stones, how to spell wells so they will not freeze even in the dead of winter, and how to find the two-skins, the wargs, with a spelled stone," the Magnar says proudly, and rightly so for you had never heard of a way to find out who might be a warg, though doubtless Bloodraven could have told you if you had thought it worth his time to look for such a thing.

    What do you ask next?

    [] Write in

    OOC: We are going to have to do this as a two part section. Hopefully the lore is interesting enough to be worth it.
     
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    • Wait runes that can find wargs? I mean that is certainly interesting to say the least. Water that does not freeze is also something interesting. Do they know how to make boundary stones?
     
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