- Location
- United States
I would be all for recruiting the Falxugon, and similarly I don't mind if people try for the Consular Imps.
A Sword Without a Hilt: A Song of Ice and Fire/D&D 3.5 Crossover
- Thread starter DragonParadox
- Start date
-
- Tags
- a song of ice and fire a sword without a hilt d&d 3.5 dungeons & dragons 100% high octane dragon fuel ave corvidae battle action dragon diplomacy best sister bureaucromancy delicious soul-stuff dragon dreams come true dragon ta'veren greatest uncle hubris is a coward's word in defiance of gods and men mammon's folly mutually assured mage's disjunction qm murderhobo top tier coatl
- Location
- Argentina
Nice!
I wanted to make my opinion known beforehand in case I'm not around to vote.
enigma1995
Gentleman Beholder
[X] Azel
- Location
- Brazil
@egoo
The planar adaptation is a massive waste, as has been discussed before. It's entirely wasted on 99.99% of our population, and most who'd get some use from it can get by perfectly fine with a 200 IM (market price) Endure Elements item.
Age Resistant is in the air, tho. It allows you to ignore the penalties from old age to your physical stats, which is massively nice, but we could swap in something that'd be better if need be.
Also, we can actually do Magic Circle, as only summoned creatures won't be able to enter. Our called Erynies won't have any trouble.
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Canon Omake: Revelry in the Deep
Crake
I AM THE STORM THAT IS APPROACHING
- Location
- USA
Revelry in the Deep
Thirtieth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC
<<<Previous Next>>>
"Whispering sweet nothings to one of your many doe-eyed maidens again?" The lurid undertones of Ceria's words left nothing to the imagination, Denys noted, save that she had not used the word "lovers". Sarcastic needling aside, the rejoinder halted halfway out of his mouth when a moment later two slender arms draped around his neck and the scent of wine on her breath made it clear she was quite intoxicated. "Ceria?" He straightened like a ghost from First Men barrows was upon him, drawing a surprised gasp of laughter from Mia seated across from him and Anya in the taproom of the Golden Hearth.
Though he and his friends had all been invited to the King's Feast of Mystery, only Criston and Ceria had partaken in the invitation, Ting having decided to read poetry to a friend he had made from his time in the arena, a Priestess from the Temple of Yss apparently.
Similarly, Mia and Anya had decided to stay away from the pomp and ceremony, and were instead taking advantage of the fact that he was too chivalrous to take advantage of either while inebriated and too willing to purchase drinks for transgressions he still wasn't sure he'd been wholly forgiven for. He was veering on hopeful that bowing his head while asking for a re-match hadn't been too uncouth of a way to beg forgiveness, but in the end he could not completely follow Varys' advice to 'challenge her to a duel in public and then try to beat her as ruthlessly as possible without crossing the line between respect of her abilities and outright murder'.
Actually, given how Anya was laughing now too and the attention being drawn to their table, he was beginning to wish that he had. "Ceria, you have magic to avoid getting drunk," he started, before a hand covered his mouth, cutting off his next words: So I know you're only doing this to embarrass me.
"Ladies," Ceria began, "While I would like to believe that Denys has treated you with all due courtesy, it is clear to me his chastity is the one at risk in these environs."
"Is this about that Dornishwoman he was telling us about?" Mia asks with a twinkle in her eye, Anya held upright in her seat with a steadying hand from the woman. "Oh yes, I know a story when I see one."
Ceria half-collapsed onto a seat beside the spy, haughtily crossing her arms under her chest. "If she were just a lady," she said ruefully. "But he has to go and impress a Princess of all things." She scowled at him then, as if it was his fault he'd set the attention of myriad eyes of highborn about him and his company. He'd only been trying to help in the first place.
"I am near certain her attention is centered upon what her association with us could do for her lands," Denys tried pointing out diplomatically, causing Anya and Ceria to share a look.
"Her, er, vast tracts and enormous mountains?" Anya chipped in from the side, face less flushed now--Ceria's work. She must have decided the shyer mage among the three would make the better foil to their teasing when he wasn't looking.
"Where is Criston?" Denys tried instead, leaning back as a fey server deposited another hearty trencher with stew and cheeses and fine cuts of roast to replace the last. Ceria looked about to tear ferociously into a flank of spiced mutton before restraining herself. "He's, ah, 'entertaining' guests." She rolled her eyes, concealing a smile behind a crystal glass of strangely purple wine. She must have appropriated that from the Keep, he thought. Better make sure to return it in the morning to their Kitchens. "Don't fret about him, we're here to talk about you. What poor woman will you fool with your philandering ways next? Perhaps you prefer more unusual company."
"I hear Dragons can take human shape, you know," Mia said slyly. "Perhaps their kin, too, and..."
Ceria's face lit up.
Denys felt only dread.
<<<Previous Next>>>
"Whispering sweet nothings to one of your many doe-eyed maidens again?" The lurid undertones of Ceria's words left nothing to the imagination, Denys noted, save that she had not used the word "lovers". Sarcastic needling aside, the rejoinder halted halfway out of his mouth when a moment later two slender arms draped around his neck and the scent of wine on her breath made it clear she was quite intoxicated. "Ceria?" He straightened like a ghost from First Men barrows was upon him, drawing a surprised gasp of laughter from Mia seated across from him and Anya in the taproom of the Golden Hearth.
Though he and his friends had all been invited to the King's Feast of Mystery, only Criston and Ceria had partaken in the invitation, Ting having decided to read poetry to a friend he had made from his time in the arena, a Priestess from the Temple of Yss apparently.
Similarly, Mia and Anya had decided to stay away from the pomp and ceremony, and were instead taking advantage of the fact that he was too chivalrous to take advantage of either while inebriated and too willing to purchase drinks for transgressions he still wasn't sure he'd been wholly forgiven for. He was veering on hopeful that bowing his head while asking for a re-match hadn't been too uncouth of a way to beg forgiveness, but in the end he could not completely follow Varys' advice to 'challenge her to a duel in public and then try to beat her as ruthlessly as possible without crossing the line between respect of her abilities and outright murder'.
Actually, given how Anya was laughing now too and the attention being drawn to their table, he was beginning to wish that he had. "Ceria, you have magic to avoid getting drunk," he started, before a hand covered his mouth, cutting off his next words: So I know you're only doing this to embarrass me.
"Ladies," Ceria began, "While I would like to believe that Denys has treated you with all due courtesy, it is clear to me his chastity is the one at risk in these environs."
"Is this about that Dornishwoman he was telling us about?" Mia asks with a twinkle in her eye, Anya held upright in her seat with a steadying hand from the woman. "Oh yes, I know a story when I see one."
Ceria half-collapsed onto a seat beside the spy, haughtily crossing her arms under her chest. "If she were just a lady," she said ruefully. "But he has to go and impress a Princess of all things." She scowled at him then, as if it was his fault he'd set the attention of myriad eyes of highborn about him and his company. He'd only been trying to help in the first place.
"I am near certain her attention is centered upon what her association with us could do for her lands," Denys tried pointing out diplomatically, causing Anya and Ceria to share a look.
"Her, er, vast tracts and enormous mountains?" Anya chipped in from the side, face less flushed now--Ceria's work. She must have decided the shyer mage among the three would make the better foil to their teasing when he wasn't looking.
"Where is Criston?" Denys tried instead, leaning back as a fey server deposited another hearty trencher with stew and cheeses and fine cuts of roast to replace the last. Ceria looked about to tear ferociously into a flank of spiced mutton before restraining herself. "He's, ah, 'entertaining' guests." She rolled her eyes, concealing a smile behind a crystal glass of strangely purple wine. She must have appropriated that from the Keep, he thought. Better make sure to return it in the morning to their Kitchens. "Don't fret about him, we're here to talk about you. What poor woman will you fool with your philandering ways next? Perhaps you prefer more unusual company."
"I hear Dragons can take human shape, you know," Mia said slyly. "Perhaps their kin, too, and..."
Ceria's face lit up.
Denys felt only dread.
***
Criston felt only dread for the prospect of getting back up, only to get knocked right back on his ass again. Six times they'd traded bruises in the ring, well he'd been given bruises, his opponent had yet to even begin sweating, but healing magic or no there was something unfair about going up against a certifiable genius in something you spent your own life honing. No amount of talent can hope to compete with such supernal skill, and the damnedest thing was he knew that he had to get better no matter what if he hoped to survive the scaling threats his friends faced out in the wild and beset upon by fiends more vile than stories could tell.
"You're doing a damn sight better than I was," the old Knight complimented him from the other side of the carved wooden rails, watching their last bout like the dozens of other men and even a few women gathered in the castle's training yard, and all because he had made a bet with gods damned Oberyn Martell that he could last ten minutes in the ring with Richard fucking Lonmouth. "I may have had to watch over him in a ring just like it when he was half the age he is now, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't kick me up and bloody down this one too."
"There's still a trick or two left in you to reveal from your bag, Ser Darry," Ser Richard demurred with a smirk. "This one hasn't got the sense to dip into his yet."
"Let me bloody apologize for not taking the Dornishman more seriously," Criston grouched, rising from his crouch the minute the golden light wafting off Lady Goldhammer's hands ceased. He favored her with a smile and a quiet thanks.
"Ah, such failings reveal themselves in any who's eyes see clearly," Oberyn quipped from Ser Richard's corner. "Dornishmen only have good sense to deliver unto others, especially to Marchers with their ears stuffed full with wax."
"Perhaps we should postpone this next one," Criston said with a dark smile, causing Ser Richard to chuckle.
The two turned around and yanked the Prince into the ring with them. A moment later Darkstar leaped over the rails, "to defend Dorne's honor", of course.
"You're doing a damn sight better than I was," the old Knight complimented him from the other side of the carved wooden rails, watching their last bout like the dozens of other men and even a few women gathered in the castle's training yard, and all because he had made a bet with gods damned Oberyn Martell that he could last ten minutes in the ring with Richard fucking Lonmouth. "I may have had to watch over him in a ring just like it when he was half the age he is now, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't kick me up and bloody down this one too."
"There's still a trick or two left in you to reveal from your bag, Ser Darry," Ser Richard demurred with a smirk. "This one hasn't got the sense to dip into his yet."
"Let me bloody apologize for not taking the Dornishman more seriously," Criston grouched, rising from his crouch the minute the golden light wafting off Lady Goldhammer's hands ceased. He favored her with a smile and a quiet thanks.
"Ah, such failings reveal themselves in any who's eyes see clearly," Oberyn quipped from Ser Richard's corner. "Dornishmen only have good sense to deliver unto others, especially to Marchers with their ears stuffed full with wax."
"Perhaps we should postpone this next one," Criston said with a dark smile, causing Ser Richard to chuckle.
The two turned around and yanked the Prince into the ring with them. A moment later Darkstar leaped over the rails, "to defend Dorne's honor", of course.
***
Men were passed out all through the yard, except for Ser Bonifer Hasty, the only one who had joined the feasting procession to 'work out their frustrations' in the castle training yard but not partake in the copious libations on offer. Ser Richard Lonmouth and Ser Criston Storm sat covered in mud next to a snoring bear of a grey-bearded knight, sharing drinks and quiet jokes with Ser Gerold Dayne who's haughty features were at odds with the dirt staining his clothes and face. Prince Oberyn Martell smirked up at his approach, though his presence was something of a secret the man had hardly thought to keep it secret from Her Grace and Bonifer was trusted enough to be told in advance lest he misstep. He was the cleanest among their number despite being dragged into the mud at least twice by Bonifer's fellow Stormlander knights.
"What happened...?" Bonifer asked awkwardly. This part of the castle had been lively when he'd left, Bonifer thought. He hadn't been one to indulge overmuch, in much of anything, for the longest time. Sitting down with the Queen and speaking of his experiences in the interregnum, after the war, listening to Wisdom Xor play his instruments without using his hands, had been just the right side of stimulating enough for his part.
"Mors Umber did," Criston snorted in reply.
Bonifer let out a sound of comprehension, eyes searching and immediately finding the large Northman who he'd made acquaintance with and then befriended shortly after the Melee had begun in earnest. They had apparently partaken twice as much as most other feast-goers spread out among the throng of snoring and groaning knights or officers from the local garrison. They'd be chewed out for the laxity later, even if they were off duty, Bonifer thought, impressed with what he'd seen of even the 'second-line' soldiers who's duties were partly peace-keeping in nature, partly to act as emergency reserves.
"Come, join us, we were just trading war stories," Ser Criston said lazily, offering him a tankard from the last barrel of ale the four had apparently been defending against all-comers, Ser Criston himself seated atop and filling up a spare.
"Mostly you sharing them," Lonmouth noted, "No one talks about the Usurper's War unless they want to discuss errors in strategy and treason."
"Well talking about killing former pirates and mercenaries on the Stepstones was hardly befitting of the company," Criston pointed out wryly. "After all, plenty of both serving His Grace."
"One can hardly call them pirates or mercenaries anymore," Ser Gerold cut in, "They work for their coin after all, better than having each dip a hand into another's purse to get by." He made sounds of approval, though his pride couldn't afford a higher compliment, and Ser Bonifer admitted it was likely because the Dornishman did not want to speak ill of some of the King's decisions. Which perhaps bodes well for his loyalty, the Stormlander hoped. He was more willing than most to see past old rivalries for his part, any man of Dorne coming in peace to stand by their cause with arms or other means of fighting he would welcome.
Perhaps it would pay to partake in such friendships, Bonifer Hasty thought. If he meant to ply similar service as those he surrounded himself with, a new purpose in life driving him now, he would need comrades to stand beside. With that in mind, much as he would prefer to talk about matters other than war, for he had no great love of bloodshed so much as knowing his purpose fulfilled and the duty to his Lord meant he would take up the sword and shield with fervor if he must, he knew well that there would be plenty of fighting yet to come.
So the quiet Knight accepted the implicit offer given.
"What happened...?" Bonifer asked awkwardly. This part of the castle had been lively when he'd left, Bonifer thought. He hadn't been one to indulge overmuch, in much of anything, for the longest time. Sitting down with the Queen and speaking of his experiences in the interregnum, after the war, listening to Wisdom Xor play his instruments without using his hands, had been just the right side of stimulating enough for his part.
"Mors Umber did," Criston snorted in reply.
Bonifer let out a sound of comprehension, eyes searching and immediately finding the large Northman who he'd made acquaintance with and then befriended shortly after the Melee had begun in earnest. They had apparently partaken twice as much as most other feast-goers spread out among the throng of snoring and groaning knights or officers from the local garrison. They'd be chewed out for the laxity later, even if they were off duty, Bonifer thought, impressed with what he'd seen of even the 'second-line' soldiers who's duties were partly peace-keeping in nature, partly to act as emergency reserves.
"Come, join us, we were just trading war stories," Ser Criston said lazily, offering him a tankard from the last barrel of ale the four had apparently been defending against all-comers, Ser Criston himself seated atop and filling up a spare.
"Mostly you sharing them," Lonmouth noted, "No one talks about the Usurper's War unless they want to discuss errors in strategy and treason."
"Well talking about killing former pirates and mercenaries on the Stepstones was hardly befitting of the company," Criston pointed out wryly. "After all, plenty of both serving His Grace."
"One can hardly call them pirates or mercenaries anymore," Ser Gerold cut in, "They work for their coin after all, better than having each dip a hand into another's purse to get by." He made sounds of approval, though his pride couldn't afford a higher compliment, and Ser Bonifer admitted it was likely because the Dornishman did not want to speak ill of some of the King's decisions. Which perhaps bodes well for his loyalty, the Stormlander hoped. He was more willing than most to see past old rivalries for his part, any man of Dorne coming in peace to stand by their cause with arms or other means of fighting he would welcome.
Perhaps it would pay to partake in such friendships, Bonifer Hasty thought. If he meant to ply similar service as those he surrounded himself with, a new purpose in life driving him now, he would need comrades to stand beside. With that in mind, much as he would prefer to talk about matters other than war, for he had no great love of bloodshed so much as knowing his purpose fulfilled and the duty to his Lord meant he would take up the sword and shield with fervor if he must, he knew well that there would be plenty of fighting yet to come.
So the quiet Knight accepted the implicit offer given.
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Goldfish
Friendly Spider-Fish Abomination
- Location
- Formerly of the Far Realm
Lots of good stuff in this chapter.
Poor Denys, missing the feast and getting teased by the ladies.
- Location
- Brazil
Polymorphed!Varys: Ara ara~
Denys: ... I need an adult.
P!Varys: I am an adult.
Goldfish
Friendly Spider-Fish Abomination
- Location
- Formerly of the Far Realm
Get that Pseudodragon her own advice column in the new broadsheets! 
Crake
I AM THE STORM THAT IS APPROACHING
- Location
- USA
ryuan
From Zero to Hero!
Right, I almost forgot that Varys would be a MILF if she polymorphs.
- Location
- Australia
Well, we could do a French theme, but that would require me to actually know anything about your cuisine. I mean, technically Cajun is kind of a hand-me-down, but even so. Maybe you could try being more relevant on the world sta- oh.
...right
Just drown a Vrock in Dawn Fruit Wine, that's French AF while also being Metal AF.
Excellent omake @Crake, it's nice to see Mia and Anya unwind for once, even if it is at poor Denys' expense. Most of their appearances so far have been on rather serious situations. The Stormlnder/Dornish interactions were also top notch but the part I'll probably be taking the most inspiration from was Ser Bonifer.
It helps me get a handle on the character which I have not really dug into character wise that much.It's nice to see that not all his troubles adjusting to a new world have to do with magic but also with old rivalries, old ways of doing things and seeing the world (the concern about hired soldiers being less skilled and trustworthy). It gives me another axis of conflict and character building for him that I had not considered before.
It helps me get a handle on the character which I have not really dug into character wise that much.It's nice to see that not all his troubles adjusting to a new world have to do with magic but also with old rivalries, old ways of doing things and seeing the world (the concern about hired soldiers being less skilled and trustworthy). It gives me another axis of conflict and character building for him that I had not considered before.
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Crake
I AM THE STORM THAT IS APPROACHING
- Location
- USA
Ceria was pointed in their direction by Garin subtly, in a bit of a sly attempt to direct her more towards the Inquisition given Viserys expressed that intent towards him. Which is why she left the feast prematurely.
Denys on the other hand was "taken under Varys' wing" which had predictable results. Being teased ruthlessly by all the women in his life.
- Location
- washington
How does ara ara correlate with milf? Because thats hilarious.
Next up the Arcanum Amrelath fight, in the meantime here is that devil list properly itemized:
List of called/bound devils:
Part of Varys' operations along the Orange Shore to help distract Zherys from the plot with the Red Priests
Names acquired from the Brachina:
The Erinyes were no summoned in the background since the recruitment pitch takes more time and effort than catch and imprison
List of called/bound devils:
Part of Varys' operations along the Orange Shore to help distract Zherys from the plot with the Red Priests
- 3 Aratons [16 HD Total]
- 9 Sand Devils [36 HD Total]
Names acquired from the Brachina:
- 14 Imps [42 HD Total]
- 10 Ink Devils [40 HD total]
- 6 Zebubs [24 HD Total]
- 4 Spinagons [12 HD]
- 2 Obsidian Devils [20 HD total]
The Erinyes were no summoned in the background since the recruitment pitch takes more time and effort than catch and imprison
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- Location
- Germany
The Obsidian Devils might be worth talking to:
Stupid, but we can always use stormtroopers.
- Location
- Germany
Would we get some progress for the Praetori project by mulching one of each? Their abilities are quite fitting for some if the augments.
What would happen if they swear to us? Would they mark people with three headed dragons and grant their bonus to imperial mages attacking the targets?
I would love to dissect those to get that memory ability...
Can we maybe mulch them to get a shot at bio-mechanical obsidian golems?
- Location
- Germany
I suspect we need to grow in Mythic power before something like that works.
- Location
- Germany
Probably, but it's still worth asking.
Hmm... that does make snese but I do not wnat to reduce the progress too much. Let's say -5
After Viserys gains the ability to grant spells yes
Yes, though that would take research too.
egoo
Totally Not Creating Problems Where None Existed
- Location
- Russia
Aww, no Uniila summons?
Oh well, we'll pester Mammon in the following months then
Thanks, @DragonParadox!
And @TotallyNotEvil, I'm still iffy on the matter of having Age Resistance on the tree. It just...
Feels wrong somehow?
Like, there is even a specific Settlement Quality for a city where people don't age. And it's a generally bad one, too.
I'd really rather have Planar Adaptation there, too.
You say it's "a waste", but in my mind, making SD not only habitable (like it is for most extraplanar denizens), but comfortable is worth much.
And again, Selkies.
Zathir's blessing alone is not that powerful either - he only makes weather a bit more palatable, and even that - by human population's standards.
Oh well, we'll pester Mammon in the following months then
Thanks, @DragonParadox!
And @TotallyNotEvil, I'm still iffy on the matter of having Age Resistance on the tree. It just...
Feels wrong somehow?
Like, there is even a specific Settlement Quality for a city where people don't age. And it's a generally bad one, too.
I'd really rather have Planar Adaptation there, too.
You say it's "a waste", but in my mind, making SD not only habitable (like it is for most extraplanar denizens), but comfortable is worth much.
And again, Selkies.
Zathir's blessing alone is not that powerful either - he only makes weather a bit more palatable, and even that - by human population's standards.
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- Location
- Israel
Should be 24 HD, unless it's 2 rather than 3.
- Location
- Germany
Well. It's something at least...
Alright. To the tree it is for now then.
Worth it if it means we can mass-produce obsidian golems for the Night Watch.
Snowfire
Polyglot of Chimera
- Location
- Wordcats
I see the antimatter golem project is off to a good start.