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

Ninth Day of the Ninth Month 293 AC

"Much as I may agree with the sentiment, my lord, I fear it falls to me to counsel caution," you note as you instruct Varys to draw back from observing the knights and only keep an eye on the angel. He and his fellows are the fulcrum upon which Brother Lucan's power turns, and so you will break it.

"I didn't say when I was planning to take the son of a bitch's head now, did I?" Ser Baelor says, before catching himself with a look to your mother and sister. "Your Grace, Your Highness, I apologize for the crude language."

"No need," your mother replies smoothly. "I think we are all in agreement that such conspiracy against a lord in his own lands is deserving of far more than harsh words."

"Then again, harsh words might well save us from needless battle, particularly harsh truths..." You go on to lay out your plan to have Yrael address the bright spirit that is watching Garth and ask that he meet with you in peace that you may lay out the reasons you oppose Brother Lucan's madness, no matter which powers or gods may be arrayed behind it.

"Pardon my bluntness, but how confident are you about that?" Lord Hightower asks. "Having a battle outside the walls of Oldtown would be better than within the city, but it could still drive many to foolish acts."

"However misguided, they are still celestial beings, my lord," your mother interjects. You suspect she would rather use a stronger word, but bites her tongue against it. "They will not break their word if they promise to listen in peace, then so they shall do and fight some other day should words not sway them."

Ser Baelor nods, if not fully at ease then at least enough so to move on to more practical matters. "I will have Alyn watched for further treachery, but leave him in place for now that he might serve to ferret out other traitors and whatever plot they have concocted." He hesitates a moment, then adds, "Much as I hate calling the Lantern Bearers from their other duties, I am also considering asking one of their mages to remain in the Hightower for the protection of myself and my family."

"A prudent move," you agree, impressed that he would think to do so rather than simply trusting in his sword's edge as so many other lords would have.


Thankfully, Septon Donar's rescue from Whitehead Keep had been both bloodless and as impressive as you might have wished, with most armsmen dropping their blades rather than trying to strike Yrael and his fellows, while those who did gather the courage to fight were quickly cowed by the celestial warriors' seeming invulnerability. Dany had also ensured that the rumors of his rescue would be impossible to quash by bringing out the heretic septon for his followers to see.

To his credit Donar asked them not to fear for him on the journey to come and not to turn upon their fellows with anger in their hearts, not even upon House Whitehead whose lord had ordered his imprisonment, naming it a test of his faith on the path the Seven had laid out for him. There was certainly a path for him to walk, but the Seven Who Are One did not lay it. Soon enough he will meet Dywen, but for now there is another you must address.

The Bright Lord of Mantarys nods gravely when you explain your plan. "I will do my best to turn the warrior's heart from the bloody path he walks. I only hope I can find the words to describe that which I have struggled to understand for so long."

"That is all I could ask of you, my lord." After a brief hesitation you add, "Know that if he should refuse it will not be your failure but his to have closed his ears to the voice of sanity."

Though it is clear from the slight shift of posture that Yrael appreciates the kindness, you doubt he will be able to take your advice.

You turn your gaze once more upon the scrying mirror, this time to look upon the angel Varys is describing across the ethereal connection—a knight garbed in blessed steel worked into the likeness of the elder tales of Andalos, four great wings like storm clouds at his back, and in his hand a sword as simple as his armor is ornate yet no less a thing of beauty for it.


Is there truly a mind behind that helm, a will that can yet choose another way than the one set by gods and fate? you wonder and hope the answer is yes, even as you steel yourself to fight and even kill him if need be as you had done with Baelor the Blessed.

Beside you Yrael takes a deep breath and closes his eyes as he reaches for the spirit's mind, casting no more than five-and-twenty words into the ether to explain what drove him to stand by you and why you are worth listening to.

The answer when it comes is better that you had feared but worse than you had hoped: "Roland would speak to you, Your Grace, but he has neither the power to command the Chosen nor refuse his questions and so cannot guarantee that he would be able to keep the peace of any parley Roland might be a part of."

What do you do?

[] Arrange a meeting at once so that Lucan has little chance of interfering
-[] Write in

[] Arrange a meeting later, if Lucan should force the angel to break his word you suspect that would go a long way to alienating him
-[] Write in

[] Write in

OOC: There you have it, Yrael managed the diplomacy check. It was by no means guaranteed.