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

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Adhoc vote count started by DragonParadox on Oct 16, 2020 at 6:32 AM, finished with 21 posts and 13 votes.
  • [X] Why not? This sounds like a great idea. Pledge true that you serve only the One True King of Westeros, and his name is Viserys Targaryen. After all, it's not as though it's a lie, is it?
    -[X] On the other hand, how Buttercup would serve is mostly wandering the land, singing the right songs and making sure the right words get spoken into the right ears. Your facility with the blade is the least of your accomplishments.
    --[X] Ser Geralt is often crossing paths with you in all of the oddest places, but the Lads can be assured you both will be marching under the Dragon Banner on the eve of the invasion. You won't profess to speak for him, but you know he prefers not to spend time cutting down hapless men at arms who haven't the sense to strip off their lion and stag surcoats yet. He's after an altogether worthier set of prey, usually.
    ---[X] Break into song, starting with the Ice Fey at the Edge of the World and ending with Vampire Knight Soiree. You imagine the boys will just be glad there's someone out there killing the monsters before they run across them. You have probably hundreds of stories to stupify and rivet any crowd.
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Part MMMDCLXIX: By the Fire's Light
  • Threadmarks
    • By the Fire's Light​

    Seventh Day of the Third Month 294 AC

    There's an edge of absurdity to it, that you can't deny, but then for all the horrors you have faced and all the wonders you have found, there's plenty of absurdity in the world. What's a little more to spare? Solemnly you proclaim, "I shall serve only the one True King of Westeros, and his name is Viserys Targaryen."

    "And I so pledge in turn," Ser Richard adds a moment later, his gaze a touch distant, recalling perhaps that day in Drowned Town when he had truly made his oath in the shadow of a broken tower.

    "Me, too," Xor adds, looking at first startled, then amused. "For what a tinker's oath might be worth," he adds quickly.

    "But I fear that for all your lovely company and greetings fairer than fair, that I and my songs can better serve the king and the realm walking the ways from Dorne to the Wall, from the Arbor to the Eyrie and beyond. My skill with a blade is the least of my skills."

    "Of course it is, you barely draw one," that is the clearest you had heard Dark Sister speak to you outside of battle or an execution, though thankfully she sounds more amused at your games than neglected. Still you make a mental note to find her a body of her own that she may be more than a tool so oft discounted.

    "And what of you, Ser knight?" Tom Sevenstreams asks, glancing between the two of you as though trying to pick apart a riddle.

    "I'll take the road over an army camp. Seen too many of those in my day," the knight replies, letting them fill in 'Ser Geralt's' tale in their heads. A knight who had fought in the rebellion and found himself with a bellyful of woes from those days. The best lies, after all, are half true.

    "I won't profess to speak of Ser Geralt, but the two of us have a habit of meeting in the oddest of places. Would you believe we met on the road not ten leagues from here, heading the same way each on our own errands? It's quite the tale really..."

    "And one we can spare for some other time, I'm certain," the brown cloaked knight is obviously used to singers who enjoy their craft, he knows the warning sighs he does. Alas for him, it shall not be enough.

    "Of course, of course, it would be churlish of me not to allow master Tom to set the stage first before I sing my songs and tell my tales true. What do you say, do we make it a challenge to see which of us is the better singer...?"

    ***​

    You cheat a great deal. Even by the standards of one of your more weighty speeches or sending Edric Mallery to turn about his father's thoughts, you cheat a lot, magic all but humming around you unseen only by the power of wards stronger still.

    So you sing of the Ice Fey at the Edge of the World and ending with the Vampire Knight Soiree, each tale dark and full of horrors, but showing light and hope at the end. These men gathered ever closer 'round the fire, sharing plundered wine against the evening chill, knowing more than most of the dark things that can lurk beyond the circle of firelight. They hear the truth of your words beneath the bombastic manner and know it in Ser Richard's brief comments when pressed.

    Tom does his best and he is skilled as only one who has lived this life for decades can be, but his is only mortal skill for the Lads had better things to spend enchantments upon than making the singer's voice fairer or his lute more pleasing to the ear. His tales though are no less fascinating to you, smaller battles and kindness less grand, but there were dangers in the Riverlands too. Wargs and hedge mages running mad or just plain wicked, shape-shifters driven by dreadful hungers under the call of the moon, vicious fey and lords willing to put their own subjects to death and torture to find traitors. All these the Lads had faced, and more often than not they have prevailed.

    The newest song, the one most raw upon his lips, tells of the battle with the Lannister convoy and by the time he is past the first verse you understand why no one had time to heal Ser Stafford Lannister before he perished. Even with surprise, steel arms, and sorcery, almost two dozen of them had fallen in the attack and many more were wounded by enchantments and alchemical works. Yet as he sings of comrades lost to death, of pain and loss, they seem to bleed away into the night air, allowing triumph and merriment to shine all the brighter. The songs grow more lighthearted, the voices in the clearing mingle true:

    Oh fishmonger, oh fishmonger,
    Come quell your daughter's hunger
    To pull on my horn
    As it rises in the morn

    For 'its naught but bad luck
    To fuck with a puck
    Lest your grandkid be born
    A fairy young faun
    Bleating and braying all day, hey ho
    The fishmonger's daughter, ba ba

    For 'its naught but bad luck
    To fuck with a puck
    Lest your grandkid be born
    A fairy young faun
    Bleating and braying all day, hey ho
    The fishmonger's daughter, ba ba

    Oh fishmonger, oh fishmonger,
    Come quell your daughter's hunger
    To pull on my horn
    As it rises in the morn

    For 'its naught but bad luck
    To fuck with a puck
    Lest your grandkid be born
    A fairy young faun
    Bleating and braying all day, hey ho
    The fishmonger's daughter, ba ba

    Oh fishmonger, oh fishmonger,
    Come quell your daughter's hunger    ​

    By the end of the performance everyone is too busy laughing to care much about judging one song against the other. A useful lesson in that you suppose, never underestimate Tom Sevenstreams with a lute in his hand, even if his work only has the magic all music shares.

    Where to next?

    [] Write in

    OOC: Tom rolled a nat 20 on his perform, not enough to beat Viserys' magic inflated skill, but definitely enough to impress him.
     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • DragonParadox said:
    By the Fire's Light​

    Fifth Day of the Third Month 294 AC

    There's an edge of absurdity to it, that you can't deny, but then for all the horrors you have faced and all the wonders you have found, there's plenty of absurdity in the world. What's a little more to spare. Solemnly you proclaim, "I shall serve only the one True King of Westeros, and his name is Viserys Targaryen."

    "And I so pledge in turn," Ser Richard adds a moment later, his gaze a touch distant, recalling perhaps that day in Drowned Town when he had truly made his oath in the shadow of a broken tower.

    "Me, too," Xor adds, looking at first startled, then amused. "For what a tinker's oath might be worth," he adds quickly.

    "But I fear that for all your lovely company and greetings fairer than fair, that I and my songs can better serve the king and the realm walking the ways from Dorne to the Wall, from the Arbor to the Eyrie and beyond. My skill with a blade is the least of my skills."

    "Of course it is, you barely draw one," that is the clearest you had heard Dark sister speak to you outside of battle or an execution, though thankfully she sounds more amused at your games than neglected. Still you make a mental note to find her a body of her own that she may be more than a tool so oft discounted.

    "And what of you, Ser knight?" Tom Sevenstreams asks, glancing between the two of you as though trying to pick apart a riddle.

    "I'll take the road over an army camp. Seen too many of those in my day," the knight replies, letting them fill in 'Ser Geralt's' tale in their heads. A knight who had fought in the rebellion and found himself with a bellyful of woes from those days. The best lies, after all, are half true.

    "I won't profess to speak of Ser Geralt but the two of us have a habit of meeting in the oddest of places. Would you belive we met on the road not ten leagues from here, heading the same way each on our own errands. It's quite the tale really..."

    "And one we can spare for some other time, I'm certain," the brown cloaked knight is obviously used to singers who enjoy their craft, he knows the warning sighs he does. Alas for him, it shall not be enough.

    "Of course, of course, it would be churlish of me not to allow master Tom to set the stage first before I sing my songs and tell my tales true. What do you say do we make in a challenge, to see which of us is the better singer..."

    ***​

    You cheat a great deal. Even by the standards of one of your more weighty speeches or sending Edric Mallery to turn about his father's thoughts, you cheat a lot, magic all but humming around you unseen only by the power of wards stronger still.

    So you sing of the Ice Fey at the Edge of the World and ending with the Vampire Knight Soiree, each tale dark and full of horrors, but showing light and hope at the end. These men gathered ever closer 'round the fire, sharing plundered wine against the evening chill, know more than most of the dark things that can lurk beyond the circle of firelight. They hear the truth of your words beneath the bombastic manner and know the truth in ser Richard's brief comments when pressed.

    Tom does his best and he is skilled as only one who has lived this life for decades can be, but his is only mortal skill for the Lads had better things to spend enchantments upon than making the singer's voice fairer or his lute more more pleasing to the ear. His tales though are no less fascinating to you, smaller battles and kindness less grand, but there were dangers in the Riverlands too, wargs and hedge mages running mad or just plain wicked, shape-shifters driven by dreadful hungers under the call of the moon, vicious fey and lords willing to put their own subjects to death and torture to find traitors. All these the Lads had faced and more often than not they have prevailed.

    The newest song, the one most raw upon his lips, tells of the battle with the Lannister convoy and by the time he is past the first verse you understand why no one had time to heal ser Stafford Lannister before he perished. Even with surprise, steel arms, and sorcery, almost two dozen of them had fallen in the attack and many more were wounded by enchantments and alchemical works. Yet as he sings of comrades lost to death, of pain and loss, they seem to bleed away into the night air, allowing triumph and merriment to shine all the brighter. The songs grow more lighthearted, the voices in the clearing mingle true:

    Oh fishmonger, oh fishmonger,
    Come quell your daughter's hunger
    To pull on my horn
    As it rises in the morn

    For 'its naught but bad luck
    To fuck with a puck
    Lest your grandkid be born
    A fairy young faun
    Bleating and braying all day, hey ho
    The fishmonger's daughter, ba ba

    For 'its naught but bad luck
    To fuck with a puck
    Lest your grandkid be born
    A fairy young faun
    Bleating and braying all day, hey ho
    The fishmonger's daughter, ba ba

    Oh fishmonger, oh fishmonger,
    Come quell your daughter's hunger
    To pull on my horn
    As it rises in the morn

    For 'its naught but bad luck
    To fuck with a puck
    Lest your grandkid be born
    A fairy young faun
    Bleating and braying all day, hey ho
    The fishmonger's daughter, ba ba

    Oh fishmonger, oh fishmonger,
    Come quell your daughter's hunger    ​

    By the end of the performance everyone is too busy laughing to care much about judging one song against the other. A useful lesson in that you suppose, never underestimate Tom Sevenstreams with a lute in his hand, even if his work only has the magic all music shares.

    Where to next?

    [] Write in

    OOC: Tom rolled a nat 20 on his perform, not enough to beat Viserys magic inflated skill, but definitely enough to impress him. Not yet edited.
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    Here's an edited version of the chapter, DP.
     
    [X] It would not do for Buttercup to be seen in too many locations in too short a timeframe. Return to your duties and proceed with the summoning.
     
    So how do the bardic music work. I had this cool idea of it being a mortal copy of the sound of the spheres. The music of creation, twisting it to the bards will.
     
    Acolyte said:
    So how do the bardic music work. I had this cool idea of it being a mortal copy of the sound of the spheres. The music of creation, twisting it to the bards will.
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    Bardic magic is odd, it comes in two flavors:
    1. Actual bardic songs, which are diffuse, require active expression of their craft, but not full attention, one can also fight and cast the second sort of magic in its presence
    2. Bardic spells, which are somewhat analogous to sorcerer spells, though they tend more to subtle expressions of power than overt, enchantment more than evocation for instance
    Attempts to study the common core of both have mostly failed over the years, though the dragonsingers are one effect of a notable success.
     
    [X] It would not do for Buttercup to be seen in too many locations in too short a timeframe. Return to your duties and proceed with the summoning.

    I'm honestly surprised that Tom doesn't have at least one level in Bard at this point with his lifestyle and skills, and think it is a shame he can't use magic with it yet.
     
    DragonParadox said:
    Attempts to study the common core of both have mostly failed over the years, though the dragonsingers are one effect of a notable success.
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    The Dragonsingers have basically mingled to art of sorcery and bardic magic into one path, haven't they? They also have the psuedo-bardic aura/aoe abilities that have a Valyrian mage bent to them.

    I'd say that's about as close to full success as you can get to figuring things out.
     
    Long as @DragonParadox keeps in mind we intend to deal with Orphne before the 11th of this month...

    [X] Azel

    @Azel, maybe add some report to get if Viserys rolls jack shit of interest in the remaining days of Snare-preparing?
     
    Crake said:
    The Dragonsingers have basically mingled to art of sorcery and bardic magic into one path, haven't they? They also have the psuedo-bardic aura/aoe abilities that have a Valyrian mage bent to them.

    I'd say that's about as close to full success as you can get to figuring things out.
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    Given that Rhaella got the skill from the difuse ocean of minds that is the Dragon Dream that seems likely.
     
    DragonParadox said:
    Vote closed.

    BTW it's been quiet recently, any re
    Adhoc vote count started by DragonParadox on Oct 16, 2020 at 1:30 PM, finished with 18 posts and 11 votes.
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    Some chapters just lend themselves to more discussion than others, you know? And continued IRL crap for some of us.
     
    Probably most people don't have many opinions of the adventures of Buttercup lol.

    Its interesting but not invading Westeros kind of interesting.
     
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