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

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Azel said:
We killed hundreds of people before they were even aware of an impending conquest to ensure the political landscape would be easier to manage afterwards.
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And then we "graciously" took the murdered nobles' children and offered them sanctuary in Sorcerer's Deep. We should probably keep an eye on them in case any of them ever realize what really happened to their families.
 
Duesal said:
And then we "graciously" took the murdered nobles' children and offered them sanctuary in Sorcerer's Deep. We should probably keep an eye on them in case any of them ever realize what really happened to their families.
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You forgot the part where we were so nice to reinvest all their liquid assets by founding a company that is a daughter of Red Scales Holding. And in which we hold the majority.

Lys was a victory so absolute that there hasn't been a single blip from them ever since.
 
Azel said:
You forgot the part where we were so nice to reinvest all their liquid assets by founding a company that is a daughter of Red Scales Holding. And in which we hold the majority.

Lys was a victory so absolute that there hasn't been a single blip from them ever since.
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That too. :rofl: :rofl: :rofl:

Granted, having Hermetia there to handle things has been quite good for us. She got surprisingly useful after she was killed.
 
If you think about it, 100% of people who were killed and brought back become more effective.
 
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Part MMMCCCLXXVIII: Enduring Truths
  • Threadmarks
    • Enduring Truths ​

    Eighteenth Day of the Twelfth Month 293 AC

    You nod once solemnly, deliberately. Not even Stannis, hardly the most attuned to subtle social nuance could miss it. Thankfully he does not seem to mind the implication. Much as he may dispise lies and trickery he understands secrets, even the secrets a lord might need to keep from his bannermen.

    "Because the gods have in their keeping the souls of mortals, cousin," Dany explains. "Because as limited as they are they are among the few things still propping up an almost broken world." With that she conjures a model of the planes, the swirling grey of Limbo, the black madness of the Abyss and Hell upon its nine dreadful layers, but this is not the model one might see besides the Tree of Wisdom in Sorcerer's Deep, but the world after the Sundering, as much as the play of light and shadow can even represent the madness that threatens to engulf all that is. "I'm luckier than most," her hand goes instinctively to the quicksilver pendant she had forged when escaping Tiamat. "I could not lightly die a mortal death, ultimately I do not think any of us could. There are spells to return the dead to life, costly but not beyond the power of kings, nor even the means of the trully wealthy, but for everyone else... well it's better to begin with the beginning, or at least the beginning of what is truly known..."

    Day turns to night and the warmth of the sun is replaced with the cold night wind over Shipbreaker Bay, in the distance thunder rumbles. Fruit juice had long since been replaced by wine, though Stannis' cup is still untouched as he asks question after question about the truths you have revealed to him. At times it almost feels like an interrogation, as though he is trying to find some loose thread, some flaw in the logic of it all and make it all untrue.

    In someone else you might have resented it, but for Stannis Baratheon it is clearly his way of dealing with the impossible. The man had cursed when he had finally faced his brother's failings and acted accordingly, but when faced with the horror of the shattered Heavens he simply asks question after question.

    "Any more of this and he might spontaneously develop a gift for wizardry," Varys jests, but beneath the words you can hear a thread of respect that mirrors your own. Once more Stannis refuses to break or even bend before the storm.

    "Why this half dead-god then and not another? Why not the Seven or R'hllor whom many already look to and who are strong enough to protect those who look to them for protection..." The question trails off awkwardly. "They shouldn't be named gods."

    An odd tangent, you can feel yourself frowning for the first time. It seems almost frivolous, as strange as it might be to think that of the man opposite you. "Language cannot be intentionally corrected, the few times it has been attempted at a large scale the results have been poor at best and absurd at worst. They are gods, it is simply that the definition of the word that is accepted by most of the world is incorrect."

    For some reason this is what finally makes the Lord of Storm's End sink into his seat with a tired sigh, eyes closed against the revelations of the day, if only for a moment. "Gods begotten of human thought, and most humans don't understand gods."

    It's not much of a question but you answer it regardless. "All sentient thought, particularly faith and worship. One could have something like a god arise without directed worship from other empowering events, but that is what sustains most of them."

    Stannis waves away the distinction with a grimace. "You keep mentioning the Storm God. Why?"

    You go on to explain the nature of Father Sky, his foes of old and the way in which he might serve as a counterbalance against the Seven as the Old Gods, who were never the gods of mortal men, and R'hllor, a god that carries the legacy of Essos and its history, could not quite do.

    As you had expected he does not object to the notion that the Seven-Who-Are-One could be curbed or that they should be. "Why a temple here? Why does he want us?"

    "Because you, your bloodline, are all that is left of his Elenei, she is not just a name in a story to Him," Dany replies softly.

    Once more there is nothing but silence other than the soft sound of the rain outside. "I accept this... bargain in the name of myself and my House, Your Grace, under one condition, for the priests of Father Sky," the name still sits uneasily upon his tongue and will for many days to come you suspect. "They are to teach the true nature of their god and all others to any who would join them and any who would ask."

    Lightning flashes outside, a moment later thunder rattles the window. In its wake you hear a single work in the Old Tongue of the First Men. "Done." From the stiffening of his spine you suspect Stannis heard it too, or perhaps he heard more.

    "So..." Dany trails off a little awkwardly. "Do we go to the cliffs now for the dedication or make preparations for a more favorable political climate?"

    What do you advise?

    [] Do the dedication now, it's not like a temple to Father Sky would reveal your hand, the only ready association is Ceria and few know the full tale of her power

    [] Move the tree and start looking for priests, but do not show the god's hand yet

    [] Write in

    OOC: Hopefully I did not summarize too much, this is a big moment for Stannis but I did not want to retread old ground by going into detail about each aspect of the revelation.
     
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  • Threadmarks
    • Awesome. Now Stannis is probably going to see gods as battlements he can use against the horrors of the world. More or less the same way we've been using them. 👍
     
    I like Gods who can make reasonable bargains and contracts.

    Much better than dealing with an idiot that bangs anything with a pulse and leaves divine blooded bastards running around every which way.

    I mean Zeus literally bred himself into the same bloodline 3 separate times.
     
    This was wonderful. Revealing somebody that gods exist, yet they have been wrongly named all this time. That they are a byproduct of their emotions. That their worshippers are the ones that feed them, and thus the ones that keep them alive.

    And lastly that only this is what keeps their souls away from eternal damnation or worse, oblivion.

    Stannis heard all this. He asked to know more. We could not have chose somebody better to handle the truth. Had he got some talent for subtlety, he would make a fine inquisitor...
     
    Tomcost said:
    This was wonderful. Revealing somebody that gods exist, yet they have been wrongly named all this time. That they are a byproduct of their emotions. That their worshippers are the ones that feed them, and thus the ones that keep them alive.

    And lastly that only this is what keeps their souls away from eternal damnation or worse, oblivion.

    Stannis heard all this. He asked to know more. We could not have chose somebody better to handle the truth. Had he got some talent for subtlety, he would make a fine inquisitor...
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    Eh. Not all Inquisition work requires subtlety. However, he is a Lord and would never abandon that duty, so the question is rather moot.

    Might be something for his old days though, if he ever decides to abdicate in Shireens favor.
     
    [X] Do the dedication now, it's not like a temple to Father Sky would reveal your hand, the only ready association is Ceria and few know the full tale of her power

    @DragonParadox, I'm assuming Father Sky is willing to temporarily tolerate proximity to the Heart Tree until we're able to openly move it away?
     
    Duesal said:
    [X] Do the dedication now, it's not like a temple to Father Sky would reveal your hand, the only ready association is Ceria and few know the full tale of her power

    @DragonParadox, I'm assuming Father Sky is willing to temporarily tolerate proximity to the Heart Tree until we're able to openly move it away?
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    Wouldn't we be able to move it in secret? It should be easy to have a weirwood look-a-like in place and put the real tree somewhere else. I don't think anyone would expect that either.
     
    DragonParadox said:
    Enduring Truths ​

    Eighteenth Day of the Twelfth Month 293 AC

    You nod once, solemnly, deliberately. Not even Stannis, hardly the most attuned to subtle social nuance, could miss the gesture. Thankfully, he does not seem to mind the implication. Much as he may despise lies and trickery, he understands secrets, even the secrets a lord might need to keep from his bannermen.

    "Because the gods have in their keeping the souls of mortals, cousin," Dany explains. "Because limited as they are, they are among the few things still still propping up an almost broken world." With that, she conjures a model of the planes, the swirling grey of limbo, the black madness of the Abyss, and Hell upon its nine dreadful layers, but this is not the model one might see beside the Tree of Wisdom in Sorcerer's Deep, but rather the world after the Sundering, as much as the play of light and shadow can even represent the bedlam that threatens to engulf all that is. "I'm luckier than most," her hand goes instinctively to the quicksilver pendant she had forged when escaping Tiamat. "I could not lightly die a mortal death, and ultimately I do not think any of us could. There are spells to return the dead to life, costly but not beyond the resources of kings, nor even the means of the truly wealthy, but for everyone else...Well, it's better to begin with the beginning, or at least the beginning of what is truly known..."

    Day turns to night, and the warmth of the sun is replaced with the cold night wind over Shipbreaker Bay, as thunder rumbles in the distance. Fruit juice had long since been replaced by wine, though Stannis' cup is still untouched as he asks question after question about the truths you have revealed to him. At times it almost feels like an interrogation, as though he is trying to find some loose thread, some flaw in the logic of it all and make it all untrue.

    In someone else you might have resented it, but for Stannis Baratheon it is clearly his way of dealing with the impossible. The man had cursed when he had finally faced his brother's failings and acted accordingly, but when faced with the horror of shattered heavens he simply asks question after question.

    "Any more of this and he might spontaneously develop a gift for wizardry," Varys jests, but beneath the words you can hear a thread of respect that mirrors your own. Once more, Stannis refuses to break or even bend before the storm.

    "Why this half dead-god then and not another? Why not the Seven or R'hllor whom many already look to, who are strong enough to protect those who look to them for protection..." The question trails off awkwardly. "They shouldn't be named gods."

    An odd tangent, you can feel yourself frowning for the first time. It seems almost frivolous, as strange as it might be to think that of the man opposite you. "Language cannot be intentionally corrected. The few times it has been attempted at a large scale, the results have been poor at best and absurd at worst. They are gods, it is simply that the definition of the word as accepted by most of the world is incorrect."

    For some reason, this is what finally makes the lord of Storm's End sink into his seat with a tired sigh, eyes closed against the revelations of the day, if only for a moment. "Gods begotten of human thought, and most humans don't understand gods."

    It's not much of a question, but you answer it regardless. "All sentient thought, particularly faith and worship. One could have something like a god arise without directed worship from other empowering events, but that is what sustains most of them."

    Stannis waves away the distinction with a grimace. "You keep mentioning the Storm God. Why?"

    You go on to explain the nature of Father Sky, his foes of old and the way in which he might serve as a counter-balance against the Seven as the Old Gods, who were never the gods of mortal man, and R'hllor, a god that carries the legacy of Essos and its history, could not quite do.

    As you had expected, he does not object to the notion that the Seven-Who-Are-One could be curbed or that they should be. "Why a temple here? Why does he want us?"

    "Because you, your bloodline, are all that is left of his Elenei. She is not just a name in a story to Him," Dany replies softly.

    Once more there is silence, but for the soft sound of the rain outside. "I accept this...bargain, in the name of myself and my House, Your Grace, but under one condition for the priests of Father Sky," the name still sits uneasily upon his tongue and will for many days to come, you suspect. "They are to teach the true nature of their god and all others to any who would join them, and any who would ask."

    Lightning flashes outside, a moment later thunder rattles the window. In its wake, you hear a single work in the Old Tongue of the First Men. "Done." From the stiffening of his spine you suspect Stannis heard it, too, or perhaps he heard more.

    "So..." Dany trails off a little awkwardly. "Do we go to the cliffs now for the dedication or make preparations for a more favorable political climate?"

    What do you advise?

    [] Do the dedication now, it's not like a temple to Father Sky would reveal your hand, the only ready association is Ceria and few know the full tale of her power.

    [] Move the tree and start looking for priests, but do not show the god's hand yet.

    [] Write in

    OOC: Hopefully I did not summarize too much, this is a big moment for Stannis but I did not want to retread old ground by going into detail about each aspect of the revelation Not yet edited.
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    Here's an edited version of the chapter, DP.
     
    [X] Do the dedication now, it's not like a temple to Father Sky would reveal your hand, the only ready association is Ceria and few know the full tale of her power
     
    [X] Do the dedication now, it's not like a temple to Father Sky would reveal your hand, the only ready association is Ceria and few know the full tale of her power
     
    065tdsa said:
    Wouldn't we be able to move it in secret? It should be easy to have a weirwood look-a-like in place and put the real tree somewhere else. I don't think anyone would expect that either.
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    We could, but there are problems with people potentially approaching the weirwood expecting it to be an actual weirwood, and lo and behold it's fake.

    It's easier to just wait.
     
    Duesal said:
    We could, but there are problems with people potentially approaching the weirwood expecting it to be an actual weirwood, and lo and behold it's fake.

    It's easier to just wait.
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    I mean, who's even going to notice? Most people who keep to the Old Gods can't actually tell the difference at all since they don't have a connection good enough to get answers out of a weirwood. Those few who do and are in a position to use that tree in particular can be warned, they probably work for us anyhow.

    If someone decides to investigate the tree in search of our influence for some reason, they may notice it being an outright fake as well as it having no power the way the ones we sacrifice to do, but if Lannister mages who can notice that get into Storm's End then we have bigger problems.
     
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    [X] Do the dedication now, it's not like a temple to Father Sky would reveal your hand, the only ready association is Ceria and few know the full tale of her power
     
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