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

Thirtieth Day of the First Month 294 AC

The fey of the hunt had feasted, drunk and hunted with all the lords and ladies of the Bright Court, just as they had with many of the dark, on twisted Feywild paths and mortal roads before the world was broken. As the Father of Satyrs tells their tales it is as though you see them again by the light of flickering embers long since burned to ash. Of the Crimson Blade you hear that she can bind all creatures of the elements to her will as easily as a mortal priest can bind the living dead to go or to stay.

You watch surprised as the maiden of four-fold nature once bound the very breath of an ebony wyrm to sentience and will and then sent it back upon its creator, a wave of boiling vitriol that could eat through adamantine-hard scales. Most favored of her servants are those who borrow of her elemental nature, but there are more elements than fire to burn and earth to crush. The creatures of the air serve her, swift and tempestuous rising against the Night's Kindred in their domain.

Of the Orange Haze your guest knows most for they are kin by oath and song, perhaps by blood also, though trying to get a straight answer in the matter proves akin to trying to catch a shadow in a sack. Still, there are answers here to be treasured like gold.

A single fey lord with horns of polished ebony and hair like fire stands before a great host, pipes in hand. The foe looks mortal though not quite human, board of shoulder and perhaps a touch larger of head. You would call them Ibbenese, but in this dawning age you would say they are most likely the 'Hairy Men' who come and go like ghosts through the pages of Essosi lore, more hearsay than history.

Bright banners they have and war priests girdled in iron long before the first man had drawn ore from the earth. Deep Iron, fey bane, a fearful poison drawn in crimson light. As the host draws up for battle a chant goes up familiar and strange. You know not the tongue, but through the magic that reflects this distant age you know three words at least: "Lord of Iron".

Old is the God of Norvos, you realize surprised, but the magic winds on giving you no time to ponder the realization.

Thus the fey lord begins to sing and the woods sing with him, a song of slumber and forgetfulness, a song as sweet as honeyed mead, that even echoed through the ages it might have drawn you to rest amid the ferns were you not warded against it. The tread of iron stops, the prayer falters, to slumber they all fall once by one, the priests cursing fey enchantment with their dying breath and in the dying of the light you catch a ray reflect the pipes and see that they are neither wood nor bone as satyr's pipes so oft are, but iron too.

The stolen weapons cut the sharpest, but what was stolen once might yet be lost again onto the first thief's ruin.

On the tale spins, the Golden Seer you learn is not one but many, a luminous court of a thousand droplets born across the world to scatter, his sight no mere arcane working but an aspect of his being divided. Thus he much favors sprites and other lesser spirits oft overlooked, and they to him give homage.

From gold to blue you learn that the Key is not lightly named. Her life, or perhaps that of her hidden tree, is the means by which a thousand lonely prisons are locked away, fey who have erred in working forbidden pacts and from each of these prisoners she draws a small tithe of power, but should she be slain than all will be freed, her slayer's curse to break.

The Green Knight is not forgotten from the song, just skipped with mischievous mirth. He favors those who prove not just valor in battle but honor true to their vows. He is known to raise all manner of mortal and mystical beings into the fey ranks so you aught not be surprised to see a strange face under a helm of green, for though they are bold and they are bright you would not mistake them long. Of the night's prowess the satyr sings a song as simple and as sharp as true silver blade. Few who the knight challenges can refuse and none without shame once a duel is proclaimed, not even the gods can tip the scales to one side or the other.

Of Violet Veil are many tales told but none true who reveal her, yet still there is a kernel to keep from the songs you hear of the Hound turned seeker, turned then lord in his own right, few can escape his bite. Oft has he been found in the company of the Wild Hunt and of all those of the Veil's vassals the one most likely to speak straight.

Last though surely not least of the Indigo mask you learn that she is not the spirit of one river, but instead something stranger by far, a once-god, a near-god of all rivers and none, who has forgotten her people and lost herself in tales deeper than prayer can contain. The powers of divinity abandoned are fearsome things indeed as many priests have found to face her the voice of their gods, drowned out moments before she was.

The tale ends, the music fades and Vee is the first to find her voice. "Good story." She gives the fey lord a measuring stare. "Say, do you want a mount like the shadow lord? I can make you one if you pledge to treat it right."

If the fey lord is surprised at the scarce praise and sudden turn to the conversation he does not show it. "And what could you weave for me, little flesh-spinner? Show me your art and by it be judged. Should it be worthy of my stature I pledge my aid for three great deeds of your choice."

Vee gives a less than impressed look: "I'm a witch, not a fake seer to guess what's in your heart by the way you scratch your ass. Say what you mean."

A long belly laugh bursts from the great satyr's lips. "Ah, fine then. I'm looking for a steed that can fight well enough not to embarrass me, keep up with the horses and hounds of the Hunt over land, over river, over air and able to hide swiftly and well when the prey is near."

What kind of mount do you suggest for the Seilenos?

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OOC: Great Deed can be everything from a battle to a research action. Next up will be a tale of the Queen and the mercenary vote. This update was getting really long with all the details about the Lords and Ladies.