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

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Part MMDCCII: Wizard's Gambit
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    • Wizard's Gambit ​

    Twenty-Seventh Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC

    By the time you and Garin return from Braavos, Moonsong had won the first match of the day with as many flashes and japes to satisfy even her. That she was also beaten bloody with a Valyrian Steel sword seems to matter very little to the sprite, save insofar as impelling her to honor her former opponent with a drink or twenty. Seeing the young Inquisitor struggle to find a way out and knowing your own presence probably would not be any help with her peace of mind, you send Dany off to distract Moonsong while you find your seat for the next fight. Mia against a Volantene mage who tried to smuggle in a demon... You find yourself most curious to see just who Zherys had sent to represent the Mysterium. Likely not the best for they likely cannot be spared from protecting the city, not to mention their own political interests to follow...

    Aemon Naremos makes a striking figure in his billowing crimson robes, one who might have stepped forward in time from the days of the Freehold, while the Inquisitor before him comes draped in the grey and black of her calling... or at least what most people ever see of her calling. An Inquisitor's true veil is a glamour... a familiar face. Still, Mia does nothing to remind the crowd of that particular fact, waving at the crowd like a legionnaire on parade, bowing to her opponent courteously. It would take ears as sharp as yours to hear: "May the best prepared mage win."

    At that the Volantene's lips twitch upwards in a faint smile, but he does not reply aloud.

    By silent agreement when the fight begins the two mages allow each other a handful of moments to cast in peace. Aemon takes the moment to armor and shield himself in magic, and to cast a shifting veil over his features. Mia meanwhile appears to be doing nothing, the fitful wind snatching her words away, her hands still as she uses the power of her gloves to substitute for gestures... or so it seems to eyes not sharp enough to pierce veils of glamour woven. Twin owl-headed hippogriffs manifest above the sands, high enough that the sweep of their wings will not disturb the sands, their claws poised to strike, a deception she had spent months in perfecting, and one she had not used before in the Circle. Naremos should be flattered, but somehow you doubt he will take it that way when the beasts descend.


    As her foe veils himself, she calls upon her earrings to see past it. Three bolts of translucent heat barely more than a shimmer in the air fly from her fingers, but this time her foe can read her gestures. He calls out a word of power in the tongue of dragons, like thunder in the ear but infinitely louder for she for whom it is meant: "Deafen."

    Still a pair of them fly true, setting his robes aflame, and then with high shrill cries the circling hippogriffs dive... yet just as they are about to strike Naremos plucks at the very threads of time, and in that stolen instant utters a spell of flame. Blazing white as the heart of a furnace, the flames consume the conjured beasts.

    Mia knows as well as you do that time's price must be paid. She casts at once a veil of poisoned vapors over her foe, a spell that had ended many a previous fight before it could even properly begin.

    For a long moment the Volantene mage is nothing but a shadow among the sickly green fumes, pelted again with bolts of unseen flame. He staggers, but does not fall. Then he does something to surprise even you, he breathes in the noxious fumes, swallowing them whole. And so he stands again in full view. "Thank you, that was most useful," he says politely, wisps of dark green mist escaping his mouth as he speaks.

    Undeterred and not sparing a word for banter, the young Inquisitor seeks to bind him in place with conjured webs so that he may not use his stolen spell, but through what looks more like good fortune than skill the Volantene mage evades the trap, rushing forward as he does so. Before his foe can move aside he spews the noxious fumes right back in her face.

    Struggling to keep down the contents of her stomach, Mia cannot do anything more than rush out of the cloud, coughing and sputtering. She somehow manages to dodge one of the four rays of brazing flame the other mage rains down upon her, but still by the time she regains her breath her robes are just as charred and blackened as his.

    Three more bolts of shimmering heat fly from her fingers, two deflected by his wards... but the third hits him full in the face. The Volantene mage trembles, on the brink. One final spell passes his, among the first battle spells most battle mages learn, but one that does not miss. Four arrows of shimmering light strike Mia in the chest, and the Inquisitor finally falls as the healers rush forward and the crowd goes wild.

    What do you do next?

    [] Speak to Aemon Naremos, unknowing smuggler or no the man is clearly skilled and has nerves of steel
    -[] Write in

    [] Do an interview
    -[] Write in

    [] Speak to Ser Darry to see if he wishes you to try to resurrect his uncle
    -[] Write in

    [] Write in

    OOC: This was really fun to write hope you guys enjoy.
     
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    • Snowfire said:
    Many thanks to @Sqweaktoy for helping me with this. I'd intended to have this up last night, but I sent it off to Sqweak to check and then promptly passed out. I was having quite a bit of trouble with the speech and actually bringing it all together from Viserys' point of view, until I hit upon the idea of doing what sometimes occurs in the quest proper; seeing Viserys speak from an outside perspective. I hope the three different perspectives are distinct enough to make sense of.

    We'll have a broad aftermath chapter after this, and then a few….loose ends to clean up before I bring Arc 2 to a close. I hope this was worth the wait.
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    It would have... come on much stronger from a single perspective. This feels more like a disjointed blow-by-blow.

    The writing is excellent as always in the bits and pieces where you see the perspectives taken individually, but this speech loses out on some of the more powerful moments we've experienced in this quest by dragging it somewhere else. For instance, making it from the Merlin's perspective from the very beginning would have made the words "It is a strange thing, when an empire falters. Some say a fall should come in fire. Others to deafening applause. Here and now, it came in a brief moment of silence, and everyone in the chamber felt it. You, the Merlin of the White Council, lose." Equal to any of the speeches written here with intent to sway an opponent or crowd.

    Without the opportunity to get into the character's head, it feels more like we're being informed of the loss by an unbiased commentator.

    Still enjoyed it!
     
    Crake said:
    It would have... come on much stronger from a single perspective. This feels more like a disjointed blow-by-blow.

    The writing is excellent as always in the bits and pieces where you see the perspectives taken individually, but this speech loses out on some of the more powerful moments we've experienced in this quest by dragging it somewhere else. For instance, making it from the Merlin's perspective from the very beginning would have made the words "It is a strange thing, when an empire falters. Some say a fall should come in fire. Others to deafening applause. Here and now, it came in a brief moment of silence, and everyone in the chamber felt it. You, the Merlin of the White Council, lose." Equal to any of the speeches written here with intent to sway an opponent or crowd.

    Without the opportunity to get into the character's head, it feels more like we're being informed of the loss by an unbiased commentator.

    Still enjoyed it!
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    I don't really have a good voice for Langtry's internals, whilst Harry is pretty easy and Luccio's I got (mostly) from reading Fistful of Warlocks. I probably could have done a better job linking the pieces together, to be fair.

    Still, critique is always welcome and I'm glad you enjoyed it despite my missteps :)
     
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    Snowfire said:
    Many thanks to @Sqweaktoy for helping me with this. I'd intended to have this up last night, but I sent it off to Sqweak to check and then promptly passed out. I was having quite a bit of trouble with the speech and actually bringing it all together from Viserys' point of view, until I hit upon the idea of doing what sometimes occurs in the quest proper; seeing Viserys speak from an outside perspective. I hope the three different perspectives are distinct enough to make sense of.

    We'll have a broad aftermath chapter after this, and then a few….loose ends to clean up before I bring Arc 2 to a close. I hope this was worth the wait.
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    Bravo I absolutely loved the shifting perspective it was a great way to show the feeling of the room, how no one was untouched.
     
    Snowfire said:
    << Previous
    Horde Thief
    Chapter 42​

    "Wizards of the White Council," the voice of what appeared to be a young man filled the room around me. Exactly where Harry had found him I still wasn't sure, yet I was glad that my own checks on him had cleared. I'd have preferred for the person speaking now to have come from the Council, and given time I believe that could have been Harry, but with the Fomor and everything else pressing down on us, that time wasn't there anymore. As Captain of the Wardens, I knew that better than anyone.

    "…as one so concerned, I thank you for the offer that brought me here," the silver-haired Targaryen continued, every word in flawless Latin, with an accent I couldn't place despite centuries of experience. Yet those words stretched to fill the entire room, as if every one of them was spoken personally, instead of to the crowd. There were few better arguments than that against his apparent youth, or maybe his apparent humanity. Yet this was the sort of person we'd needed to take the fight to the Merlin, and even with all the power he'd shown in humbling the Fomor across a continent, he'd been willing to work with us despite the patronising tone taken by more conservative members of the Senior Council.

    According to Harry's reports, this Targaryen would have tried to change things even had there been no movement already there to support. His reaction to how the Council enforced the Laws had apparently been…expressive, and standing here as he spoke, I could almost believe he'd have found a way to succeed.

    "You know why I stand here before you," as if summoned by that thought, the pleasantries came to an end. "Why I have driven a nation of predators from the shores of a continent," there was no 'when you could not' tacked on to the end of the sentence, but it was somehow more audible in its absence. "A matter has come before this body in recent weeks, of Council justice, and how the Wardens are directed to enforce it." He paused, the moment of silence somehow lending his words a depth of presence beyond simply theatre. "And because they are losing the battle to do so."

    A stir swept the chamber, a murmur of uncertain voices and true fear. Five years ago, in the depths of the war against the Red Court, such a statement would have been unthinkable from one of the Council's own, let alone an outsider. And yet, in the here and now it was clear he was right. The Red Court had not fallen to the Council, or to the Wardens. The act that had destroyed them had been the choice of a single man, who stood a few steps from me. And afterwards, when there should have been peace? The Fomor had risen.

    We were holding on, but even with the Wardens strengthened in the closing years of the war, it was only that. And we were slipping. Monsters pouring out of the dark places of the world. The White Court, the Fae, and a dozen other supernatural nations clearly preparing for something. Warlocks continuing to outrun our efforts to curtail them, and I could see the beginning of the wave that Dresden had warned me about after helping bring the Fomor invasion of the United States to a screeching halt. We'd come out of the war stronger than we'd been in centuries, but we weren't invincible, and we couldn't be everywhere. We needed another option.

    "Some among you," the steady words continued, "would argue to hold to tradition, blithely confident that what has served for this long will surely endure," another pause, and you could feel that room suddenly taking a breath, holding it, waiting. "Yet those with eyes to see know the world is not the same as it was when those traditions were made. You, the keepers of wisdom, must know how the last century has changed the world. How magic has flowered across the breadth of the planet in uncounted places, and how your dictates and tradition have not been sufficient to the task. How they have failed time and again to catch and nurture those blossoms."

    More whispers filled the air, and yet even among the Merlin's supporters there was little true disagreement. Nobody liked what Viserys Targaryen was saying, but that wasn't the same thing as anyone being able to say it was wrong. The presentations I'd given in the last weeks meant that was effectively impossible.

    Yet where another might have listed a litany of the Council's losses, he did not. Instead, he gave a sad smile, and I suddenly realised where he was going. "At the Senior Council's request, I have walked with a Warden against the workings of Black Magic. I have upheld and worked to enforce your Laws. And I have seen with my own eyes what it costs you." Irises of a faded purple swept the room, the intensity behind them almost painful, and none met that gaze. Harry had said little of what he'd seen in his Soulgaze with the Targaryen, but he'd told me enough to know I didn't want to either. Not here.

    ​

    Watching Viserys speak was like, well, I wasn't sure there was a good word for it. Like a master conducting a symphony, perhaps. I knew there was magic in his words, in his motions, but he was already such a creature of that power that it was unlikely anyone would notice. There were few beings that could use power this way without it being enthrallment, and few would dare attempt such a thing so openly.

    "Warlocks, those who break the Laws fully and with intent, deserve the death that they earn for themselves. But with every Practitioner who becomes one, you lose a colleague," his eyes flicked to the groups of Wardens scattered about the room. "A comrade," then to the discreet and less so groups of wizards that formed that major power blocs. "An ally. And you lose them to a system that issues punishment instead of prevention simply because it lacks the commitment to do more than make the most token effort."

    It was odd, really, watching the labours of years come to fruition by the words of another, who I'd only known for a few months. And yet, it was working. I could see it, in the way those around me held themselves. I might be an utter fool when it comes to more delicate interactions, just ask my dating life. But I'd learnt, grudgingly, to read the Council. I'd complain later at myself later, right now it was helping.

    "Not more than a dozen days past, I met a young woman who, if help had been there for her when she'd needed it most, could have stood beside you one day as one of your best. Her skill could have been turned to aiding the Council, instead of being wasted so pointlessly. Imagine what she might have done with that life." My eyes burned for a moment with the memory of a woman who'd only wanted to protect her family, driven to death by it.

    "Every day, the Wardens are ordered to exact this Council's justice, and for duty's sake they do so with grim finality.An unwavering sword that in its proudest moments defends you all from the darkness, forced by circumstance to chip away at itself every time it swings. That bleeds the forces of organized wizardry by a thousand tiny cuts. And you must see that you cannot afford to be weakened so, not with the world so precariously balanced."
    Then what are we meant to do. I could almost feel the question, in a dozen different tones. Viserys, of course, had predicted that. That or he was one of the most exceptional social improvisers I'd ever met. Probably both, actually.

    "I'm not suggesting that the Laws have failed, Wizards. I know the dire nature of the need for their enforcement. I only ask for adjustment in how they're enforced. Some might say that tradition shouldn't change, that it must remain set in stone lest it change the world. But the world does not provide to us the chance to arrange it to our preference. It has already changed, as it always does, and seldom does it wait for permission."


    "All I ask is that you stop trying to destroy yourself. You've seen what the Paranet is capable of. What it could be, given real support." You stared out past the silver-haired figure upon whose actions this entire disagreeable matter rested. Oh, Dresden had done his part, and Luccio too. But without…Viserys Targaryen, you'd have been able to keep them stalled for years.

    And yet, you could feel the shift in the crowd already. There were still paths you could take, options you had ready to bring against the worryingly powerful entity. But would it change anything? You didn't think so. Not now.

    It is a strange thing, when an empire falters. Some say a fall should come in fire. Others to deafening applause. Here and now, it came in a brief moment of silence, and everyone in the chamber felt it. You, the Merlin of the White Council, lose.

    If the being before you noticed that moment, he gave no sign. He simply took a breath, and kept talking.
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    Bam! Ya'll just got Diplomanced right in your ear holes!
     
    That was an excellent fight, @DragonParadox, it really shows that high-level fights and in our spell selections that Viserys and the Companions could be construed as so honed and practiced that they just tend to pick the right spell every time, or the spell is so powerful that even if it fails another caster beside him will land the right one or a powerful enough one.

    These mages are still experimenting and trying to figure out what works, and you even kind of characterize that in their spell selections, you catch a glimpse of their line of thinking even from an outside perspective.

    Viserys has been involved in countless battles by this point. He intrinsically knew that Aemon had fallen back on sheer instinct, one of the most reliable spells that he had likely called upon many times before when all else failed.
     
    I really liked the horde thief update too @Snowfire! I could really feel how Viserys was less arguing and more a tsunami sweeping away all opposition without effort.
     
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    DragonParadox said:
    Wizard's Gambit ​

    Twenty-Seventh Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC

    By the time you and Garin return from Braavos Moonsong had won the first match of the day with as many flashes and japes to satisfy even her. That she was also beaten bloody with a Valyrian steel sword seems to matter very little to the sprite, save int far as impelling her to honor her former opponent with a drink or twenty. Seeing the the young inquisitor struggle to find a way out and knowing your own presence probably would not be any help with her peace of mind you send Dany off to distract Moonsong while you find your seat for the next fight. Mia against a Volantine mage who tried to smuggle in a demon... You find yourself most curious to see just who Zherys had sent to represent the Mysterium. Likely not the best for they likely cannot be spared from protecting the city, not to mention their own political interests to follow...

    Aemon Naremos makes a striking figure in his billowing crimson robes, one who might have stepped forward in time from the days of the Freehold while the inquisitor before him comes draped in the grey and black of her calling... or at least what most people ever see of her calling. An inquisitor's 's true veil is a glamor... familiar face. Still Mia does nothing to remind the crowd of that particular fact, waving at the crowd like a legionary on parade, bowing to her opponent courteously. It would take ears as sharp as yours to hear: "May the best prepared mage win."

    At that the Volantine's lips twitch upwards in a faint smile but he does not reply aloud.

    By silent agreement when the fight begins the two mages allow each other a handful of moments to cast in peace. Aemon takes the moment to armor and shield himself in magic, to cast a shifting veil over his features. Mia meanwhile appears to be doing nothing, the fitful wind snatching her words away, her hands still as she uses the power of her gloves to substitute for gestures... or so it seems to eyes not sharp enough to pierce veils of glamor woven. Twin owl-headed hipogriffs manifest above the sands, high enough that the sweep of their wings will not disturb the sands, their claws poised to strike, a deception she had spent months in perfecting, and one she had not used before in the Circle. Naremos should be flattered, but somehow you doubt she will take it that way when the beasts descend


    As her foe veils himself she calls upon her earnings to see past it. Twin bolts of translucent heat barely more than a shimmer in the air fly from her fingers, but this time her foe can read her gestures. He calls out a word of power in the tongue to dragons, like thunder in the ear but infinity louder for she to whom it is meant: "Deafen."

    Still the bolts fly true setting his robes aflame and then the with high shrill cries the circling hipogriffs dive... yes just as they are about to strike Naremos plucks at the very threads of time and in that stolen instant utters a spell of flame. Blazing white as the heart of a furnace the flames consume the conjured beasts.

    Mia knows as well as you do that time's price must be paid. She casts at once a veil of poisoned vapors over her foe, a spell that had ended many a previous fight before it could even properly begin.

    For a long moment the Volantine mage is nothing but a shadow among the sickly green fumes pelted again with bolts of unseen flame. He staggers but does not fall. and then he does something to surprise even you, he breathes in the noxious fumes swallowing them whole. And so he stands again in full view. "Thank you, that was most useful," he says politely, wisps of dark green mist escaping his mouth as he speaks.

    Underrated and not sparing a word for banter the young inquisitor seeks to bind him in place with conjured webs so that he may not use his stolen spell but though what looks more like good fortune than skill the Volantine mage evades the trap, rushing forward as he does so. Before his foe can move aside he spews the noxious fumes right back in her face.

    Struggling to keep down the contents of her stomach Mia cannot to anything more than rush out of the cloud coughing and sputtering. She somehow manages to dodge one of the four rays of brazing flame the other mage rains down upon her, but still by the time she regains her breath her robes are just as charred and blackened as his.

    Two more bolts of shimmering heat fly from her fingers, one deflected by his wards... but the second hits him full in the face. The volantine mage trembles on the brink. One final spell passes his, among the first battle spells most battle mages learn, but one that does not miss. Four arrows of shimering light strike Mia in the chest and the inquisitor finally falls as the healers rush forward and the crowd goes wild.

    What do you do next?

    [] Speak to Aemon Naremos, unknowing smuggler or no the man is clearly skilled and has nerves of iron steel
    -[] Write in

    [] Do an interview
    -[] Write in

    [] Speak to Ser Darry to see if he wishes you to try to resurrect his uncle
    -[] Write in

    [] Write in

    OOC: This was really fun to write hope you guys enjoy.
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    That was really fun, DP.

    Slight problem, though. Mia casts Conjuration spells at 7th level, so every time she used Elemental Fire Darts, there should have been three darts rather than two. Dunno if that would have affected the outcome of the fight or not.
     
    [X] Do an interview
    -[X] Shield Captain Naemaera of the Second Legion has all of the qualities that you would tout as most important when selecting officials in your Imperium. A former slave, she is dutiful, loyal and courteous, following the Imperial Graces guidelines lain forth by your mother like gospel. Most importantly, she excels in a field once dominated by men, as she fights harder, longer and with more tactical sense than you've seen in most sellsword officers before they've gotten old habits beaten, sometimes literally, out of them.
    -[X] You believe strongly in a nobility of talent. Show the world now that talent has long gone under-looked in unexpected places, until now.
     
    Goldfish said:
    That was really fun, DP.

    Slight problem, though. Mia casts Conjuration spells at 7th level, so every time she used Elemental Fire Darts, there should have been three darts rather than two. Dunno if that would have affected the outcome of the fight or not.
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    *Rolls 3 more attacks*

    Two miss

    *rolls for damage on the third *

    It looks like the dice gods love Aemon Naremos. He is now at precisely 2 HP but still wins.
     
    [X] Do an interview
    -[X] Embra
    --[X] Among others questions, ask her to explain who she is (minus sensitive information, such as who she really is, who her father is, that Djinnis can grant wishes, etc), where she comes from, a short description of her people (temperament, goals, etc.), and how she's finding the festival so far.
    --[X] Viserys and Embra use full social buffs for maximum audience impact.
     
    egoo said:
    [X] Do an interview
    -[X] Embra
    --[X] Among others questions, ask her to explain who she is (minus sensitive information, such as who she really is, who her father is, that Djinnis can grant wishes, etc), where she comes from, a short description of her people (temperament, goals, etc.), and how she's finding the festival so far.
    --[X] Viserys and Embra use full social buffs for maximum audience impact.
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    Ah, Egoo remembers suggestions so well...
     
    People, I'm not bitching about tactics (that was an amazing fight, and I was rooting for him anyway).
    No, I'm just thinking of a sweetener to offer him when we talk to him!

    Because yes, I want to recruit this guy.
     
    TalonofAnathrax said:
    People, I'm not bitching about tactics (that was an amazing fight, and I was rooting for him anyway).
    No, I'm just thinking of a sweetener to offer him when we talk to him!

    Because yes, I want to recruit this guy.
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    Since he is in the top 2 now he can ask for any Level 4 scroll anyway as part of his payout.

    -[X] 2nd Prize: 3,000 Imperial Marks, Standardized Sorcerer's Deep Mage Gear appropriate to the winner's class, Valyrian Steel Dagger (SD Festival Edition). Include a selection of available spell scrolls of their choice (x4 1st level, x3 2nd level, x2 3rd level, x1 4th level).
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    If you want a sweetener I would show off our ritual lore, that a member of the Scholarium would have access too.
    Or the crafing and reasearch budget he could get when working for us (not that he's poor, but the really interesting projects can seriously strain the coffers of middling nobility, so far he had to sell a majority of his production to fellow Mysterium Sorcs to finance the work).
     
    Artemis1992 said:
    Since he is in the top 2 now he can ask for any Level 4 scroll anyway as part of his payout.


    If you want a sweetener I would show off our ritual lore, that a member of the Scholarium would have access too.
    Or the crafing and reasearch budget he could get when working for us (not that he's poor, but the really interesting projects can seriously strain the coffers of middling nobility, so far he had to sell a majority of his production to fellow Mysterium Sorcs to finance the work).
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    What gear does he already have? As an Enchanter, I would expect him to have some decent gear.

    Our basic Wizard gear is pretty good, but if there's anything he doesn't want or need, we could keep those items and just make it up to him in an equivalent amount of currency.
    Sorcerer's Deep Adventurer's Kit©: Bedroll, Belt Pouch, Blanket, Camping Gear (a pot & mess kit), Clothing (x2 Explorer's Outfits, x1 Scholar's Outfit), Flint & Steel, Hand Mirror, Rope (50ft), Spellbook, Spell Component Pouch, Tent, Waterskins (x2), Writing Implements (paper, ink, a pen or quills, & scrollcase)
    Alchemical Items: Antiplague (x3), Antitoxin (x3), Auran Mask (x3), Healing Salve (x6), Vermin Repellent (x6), Smokestick (x6), Sunrod (x3), Fungal Stun Vial (x6), Sleep-Smoke (x6), Alchemist's Fire (x6), Liquid Ice (x3), Thunderstone (x3), Tanglefoot Bag (x3)
    Ring of Protection from Evil
    Healing Belt (+2 CON)
    Circlet of Clarity (+2 INT)
    Quill of Scribing
    Earrings of Arcane Acuity
    Anklets of Translocation
    Ring of Sustenance
    Bracers of Arcane Freedom
    Handy Haversack
    Amulet of Tears
    Ring of Continual Flame
    Launcher
    Masterwork Razor Sharp Adamantine Dagger
    Masterwork Light Crossbow (w/2 quivers of 20 bolts)
    Masterwork Quarterstaff
    Total: 3,020 IM
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