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

Twenty-Seventh Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC

Though a touch hesitant about admitting that you intend to use your mother's open return to the world to start rumors about being favored by the Seven, she raises no objection to the matter. "If the Seven did not want such rumors spreading in secret then they should have made them true," she says firmly. "You have done more for the Seven Kingdoms from exile than any other king has done from atop the Iron Throne. If they would be silent as stone in the face of our foes using their images as cudgels then they aught not be surprised when we start making shields of them." Her voice had been rising slightly as much in relief at speaking as anger, as though some dam had broken with frustrations old and new pouring out from behind it.

"The gods are a reflection of their worshipers, at least those who accept prayer," you offer in admittedly lukewarm defense. "They are far better at staying the course, then changing it at need."

She sighs. "That does not make it much easier to deal with when the most helpful gods are an enormous serpent who would swallow the innocent and guilty alike with equal fervor so long as bargains are kept, and Bloodraven struggling to manage a horde of raging ghosts. I don't want to see the gods as the Valyrians did, as something to be channeled or warded off, but they seem to have been right about an uncomfortable number of things..." It is all too easy to forget that she too Dreams now, a silent witness to the parade of pride, power, and malice that is the legacy of your blood.

"Knowledge is not wisdom," you say after a brief thoughtful silence. "Those ancient mages and the wyrms who came before had much of the former and precious little of the latter. We shall just have to do better."


For this morning doing better means revealing your mother's identity to the court in open session, explaining that it is a thing many powerful mages may do, going so far as to reveal that in the markets of Armun Kelisk one might find scrolls potent enough to bring back the souls of the willing dead for no greater cost than gold and gems. The news is far from a shock in itself, rumors that you could bring back the dead have been floating around Sorcerer's Deep practically since Dany, Vee, and Tyene had founded the Houses of Healing, only growing more prevalent as you actually gained the power to do so and used it. What is more of a hurdle to the life of the court is discovering that your mother had been present at court under a glamour for months. The layer of secrecy is likely to put many on edge.

You had briefly pondered 'retiring' her false guise and then allowing her to step into those same shoes as herself, but the position of chamberlain is simply too public for obscurity to be an option, not to mention that simply having your mother continue the same policies without a hitch would render the 'secret' transparent to all but the veriest fools, of which you hope your court does not possess too many, and so the only secret is the precise manner of her return to life.

Among mages and scholars the rumor spreads that you had to perform some ritual to restore her, accounting for your absence when you had in fact gone North, but it is another rumor that concerns you most as you see it spread through the auspices of the Inquisition—that Rhaella Targaryen's return to life is a miracle granted by the Mother, both for her heartfelt desire to return to her children and as a favor bestowed by the Seven on you to dispel the vicious rumors and godless hatred leveled at him by those parts of the Faith that have taken to preach with Lannister gold instead of the Seven-Pointed Star. King's Landing should prove a particularly fertile ground to begin sowing such rumors. Memories of the sack, of Lannister savagery and treachery are still all too fresh.

However, for now your most urgent task is not spreading tales but outpacing your own. There is one man in Sorcerer's Deep who needs to hear the news that you can restore life to the dead from your lips and not twice-told rumor. With Dany and your mother at your side you set out in search of Ser Raymun Darry, expecting to find him among the teeming markets or else in a tavern drinking to his success beside the knights of his household for he had come quite far before Ser Gerold unhorsed him.

Instead you find the Riverlander lord at one of the city's most often overlooked institutions, the Royal Stables where steeds are bred not only for the Legion but also to carry messages across the new-made roads, a place easily overshadowed by news of other wonders, unless of course one is waiting for that news in some distant corner of the realm. Then the horse that bore it becomes rather relevant.

The stable master whom the Ser Raymun had been speaking with is more than happy to provide a private chamber for you and Dany to speak to the 'mystery knight' while your mother waits at the door, not wishing to utterly shock the man with the sudden revelation of the offer you are about to make.

So sitting across from the lord in this chamber smelling pleasantly of hay and sea salt carried on the breeze that you address the Lord of Darry. "You have seen magic in many forms these last few days, my lord. Some small like the lanterns that make the streets safer and more pleasing to the eye, some grand like the Smelter and Hardening Chamber at Everfire Dale, but there is one particular working of the arcane that I would speak to you of, one that I have only today made known to all even here, for reasons that should be obvious once I am done speaking."

Ser Raymun shifts a touch uncomfortably in his seat, but he does not look away.

"Your great-uncle Ser Willem struggled against circumstances that would have broken any lesser man. He taught me how to hold a sword, and more importantly he was the first to offer me guidance as to when to use it. He kept Dany and I safe when we were cast upon strange shores as exiles, and there he perished, loyal to his last breath." You pause, wondering if the lord had begun to sense the shape of your offer, or if even after all he has seen to far it is still unbelievable. "By the arts I now possess I can restore him to life if you so wish and if his soul consents to return."

For a long moment there is only stunned silence at the lord looks on in shock. Obviously he had not believed the 'wilder' rumors around the town for all he seemed to grow more at ease with magic.

"It is true, Ser Raymun," your mother says gently from the door. "A strange truth, but the world is changed and there are paths now open to turn aside even death."

"Your Grace, I..." The knight bows automatically, the motion elegant and sure even now from sheer instinct. "It is wonderful to see you again. It was a black day when I heard of your passing." He stops, glancing down apologetically at Dany.

However, rather than taking offense as he had feared, she only smiles in understanding. "Ser, I could hardly have expected you to celebrate the birth of a child you knew nothing of in so black an hour when tragedy upon tragedy dogged the heels of those who chose to stay true to our House."

The silence lasts but a moment more before Ser Raymun speaks. "If Willam gets a choice in the matter then it should be his choice. He always was a stubborn man my father used to say. He would not thank me for deciding in his name."

Thus the four or you link hands the world twists as you find yourselves again in Castle Darry's solar once more. Unseen you pass through corridors and steps until at last you come to the crypts, the ancient stones far older than the current incarnation of the keep. The chapel of the Stranger you pass by without a second look to stand before the place where the bones of Ser Willam now lay interred.

You draw a diamond from your cloak, the stone shining like a pale star in the light of Ser Raymun's torch, the gem worth a high lord's random yet a mere pittance besides the unyielding loyalty of the man who had smuggled you and Dany out of Dragonstone and borne you to safety when the garrison was already considering offering you up to the rebels, who had guarded you in your exile despite failing health and fading hope of return. Together you and Dany shift the heavy stone slab, she with magic and you with a dragon's strength. Gently you take up a bone still wrapped in a tattered veil and set it down.

Rather than speak the words of power, you will the magic into being by the power you had found within yourself in Syrax's halls. Ser Willem deserves a chance, and so you give him one. The diamond in your hand burns impossibly bright, yet the light does not sear the eye nor trouble the mind... a beacon in the soul's night.

"Ser Knight, do you wish to return for yourself?"

It is difficult to get across in that instant the understanding of all that you and your friends had built in these past years, but you are no stranger to difficult magics. You make it clear that you are safe, that you are thriving, that you do not ask him to return for your sake, but to live the life for his own sake. Something stirs in the light, a presence without form, but not without purpose.

A warrior felled by a foe it could not battle returns to life with dignity.

Ser Willem Darry looks much as you remember him from before the fever, but for the fact that he wears a funerary shroud, grey of beard and hair, though still strong and wide of shoulder. His one good eye fixes upon each of the four of you in turn. "The dreams are not usually this good, and I'd think the Seven would have more sense than to make heaven look like this," he rumbles with surprising humor as you help him to his feet. "So it must be true, then," he bows by turn to you your mother and even Dany, eyes widening slightly at the obvious magic all of you are showing, then he embraces his nephew.

Turning back to you he adds: "I know you said you don't need my old bones to deal with the damn Usurper, but that does not mean I don't want the son of a..." he cuts himself off, looking at your mother and coughing. "That I do not want him in the ground for all the harm he's done. How can I help?"

What do you reply?

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OOC: Some good rolls, though mostly not needed given the circumstances.