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

Nineteenth Day of the Twelfth Month 293 AC

"Will you be needing my to strip down, too, Your Grace?" Liomond Lashare asks wryly, looking down at the pile of armor, weapons, and talismans stripped from his former comrades. He had taken your informal manner when pressed for time remarkably well and shown no small attitude for pointing out the traps and curses bound therein.

"Keep your armor and weapon, Ser. Bare them proudly in my service and I shall count myself all the richer for it," you answer in like tone. The levity fades without a trace as you look more closely at Silvertongue's scepter. It does not take a mage's eye to measure the bones that went into its making. "Are those...?"

"The bastard said children feel the purest fear," the former sellsword growls. The disgust in his gaze is not feigned you would judge, though perhaps somewhat exaggerated for the sake of distancing himself from the dead sorcerer.

"The Old Gods will make some use of it, at least," you say grimly. Maegor's armor is likely to have the same fate, for while you could perhaps grow a plant spirit to twine itself around the damned blades, you cannot think of any who would wish to. Rage and madness hang about it like a sickening miasma.


The thought of the Old Gods reminds you of a matter that has been often in your thoughts these past few days. How much have you truly wounded Tiamat? Given enough study into the matter, Dany suspects she could make a guess. You might be able to do so, too, albeit from another direction. Thankfully, you do not have to take the time for there is another among your kin who can answer readily.


The cave beneath the hollow hill is much as you have left it, save perhaps for the smell, less of the bitter air of lonely places deep beneath the earth and more the yeasty tang of growth and overturned soil. The Gods of Earth, Stone, and Tree are pleased in their ever burgeoning strength. Alas, their voice upon the living world is not so fortunate. "Ah Your Grace... pardons a few moments while I reacquaint myself with the aches and pains of this...shell. I confess I have been spending even more time apart from it since obtaining a human form.." A painful hacking laugh passes his lips. "The Usurper believes his Masters of Whispers is most diligent."

"You are diligent, uncle," Dany points out with a small smile of her own. "The only thing untrue in that sentence is the word 'his'." In a more serious tone, she adds, "Would you rather we met with the puppet somewhere?"

"No, no," his left hand twitches in an aborted gesture to wave the matter away. "I do have to spend some time each day in this body lest I misplace my last connection to life. A seer I am, not a dreamer." Another man might have added 'not yet', but you are quite certain Brynden Rivers has no intention to die upon that pale throne if there is any other path before him.

You nod, none of this is news to you, of course. You had spoken to him through the link with the false Varys, but some questions are too weighty to trust to the whims of a sorcerous tether. "How fare the gods in the wake of our gambit in the east, my lord? How much did Tiamat lose when the Golden Company died."

Satisfaction bright and vicious gleams in his single crimson eye, an old quarrel settled at last, but he does not linger upon it. Dany's earlier words were not idle flattery. "The Old Gods claimed the most, a few long strides towards the pinnacle that is domain over all magic. Impossible to reach, of course, but the steps are surely worth climbing. By this, many things are made easier, not least the sharing of spell lore with minds not of the Greendream."

"Lya might kiss you for that," Dany giggles.

"I shall unfortunately have to beg off the honor. I would not wish to spark jealousy in His Grace," the ancient sorcerer replies dryly, to redoubled mirth and not just from your sister. You have no reason to hide here, of all places.

When the echoes of laughter had faded from the cave, Bloodraven continues. "Of the Dark Queen's dominion over dragons, nothing could shake without destroying Her utterly, but I do not doubt, Highness, that you will put the shard you stole to good use. Between fire, tears, and silver moonlight, Her mastery of Chaos has been well challenged, though none of the three who challanged her claimed any great portion of the spoils. In wickedness the battle lines were drawn alike, but the wounds dealt much less deep."

"There was no power to contest as fully as with Chaos," you muse. "Did Yss fare any better matching honest trade against the Hoard Stealer?"

"Yes, it should be easier for the serpent to adjudicate the feuds of dragons." The whispersoft voice take on the tone of obvious approval. "I am not certain how much that is worth, though, as dragons would be citizens of your realm and answerable first to its lsaws and courts."

"What of the will and power to destroy?" you ask. Given the rage of Tiamat thwarted, you could certainly do with knowing that She would be less able to lash out through her agents or her own power as she had done at the battle's end.

"She to whom the Moonsingers pray is now more skilled in the stilling and reconsecrating of demonic magics from what I have seen." His tone turns ever so slightly sly. "She would accept such as sacrifices of a sort. Lastly, Zathir managed a minor blow matching freedom from pain against endless hate, though the Dark Queen's pride is as unassailable as ever.

What do you do next?

[] Speak to Bloodraven more
-[] Write in

[] Receive a report (Interlude series)
-[] Plane of Fire Raiding
-[] City of Brass Intelligence
-[] Plane of Earth Investigation
-[] Yi Ti Expedition
-[] Write in

[] Head out to deal with the Houses of the Reach

[] Perform a minor action
-[] Write in

[] Write in

OOC: This feels a little disjointed, between the loot and the talk of gods, but given the scene break you guys can just consider it like two smaller chapters.