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

Twenty-Fourth Day of the Fourth Month 294 AC

Crystal clinks and enchanted glass shatters as the Daemon tainted beyond even its kind's foul purpose finds its end. As you lay brass blades beside it one by one, fire burns bright as the heart of the mightiest forge you have erected. The priests chant, the shadows dance edged with ethereal light. The Red God is pleased, his enemy fallen, his... subjects safe. You still stumble over the manner they are called in his holy texts.


All slaves bound to the Wheel, you recall the man in red who was no man saying. Yet you do not regret it even for a moment. For all you do not agree with, do not approve of all the Red God, you feel the kinship to him close as the heat of the fire on your skin. There but for the company I chose to keep go I.

As the blaze builds and builds you begin to wonder which of those beside you can guess your thoughts. Amrelath perhaps being a dragon himself can see one facet of it, and you are certain Benerro has spoken enough to you to and yours to guess at another, but you have the slightly uncomfortable feeling that the one who sees behind your eyes best is Melisandre as she sets the shadows awhirl.

There is no great voice this time, no thunder from on high, only the feeling of warm satisfaction flowing out from the bonfire like the light, spilling into the sky above Sorcerer's Deep and into the city itself. You have no doubt that any eyes who look upon the pillar of light, be they out in the streets or on the bridge of a patrolling frigate would feel that same sense of satisfaction, like a comforting hand upon your shoulder at the end of a long day's work. Well done, tomorrow we begin again.

Though you have never sensed the Lord of Light this close, this warmth for lack of a better sense, you have no difficulty picking out the part of the conversation that is meant for you alone.

Three great urns stand before you, choose from which you may drink, the words of the ancient parable float to the front of your mind unbidden, in your own voice when you had read them months ago before speaking to the gathering of Red Priests in Volantis. But these urns are not only a metaphor, they are power, they are gifts, they are boons of R'hllor's nature.

Why three and not four? You almost ask before weighing each in your mind and realizing you would not like the urn which stands in the fourth corner of the god's house. Justice without mercy and dominion without end. He knew which boons you would be willing to accept and which you would cast off.

Choose one:

[] The Boon of Fire Kindled in the Humblest Hearth: The entire population of Sorcerer's Deep gains the Bonus Feat Arcane Talent. The boon is hereditary and semi-dominant, the number of those blessed are likely to spread and increase in time. Those who wield such minor magics are more likely to bloom into full sorcery. In such a case they may freely exchange the feat for Minor Spell Expertise as soon as they have gained the ability to cast Level 3 spells

[] The Boon of Protection Against the Dark: The fire of the temple retains the ability to serve as an arcane lighthouse, making it much easier to navigate the surrounding waters. (+1 Provincial Wealth from Trade). Lys, Myr, Tyrosh, and Volantis gain similar benefits as well. With further study the Red Priests will be able to replicate the ability to other trading hubs.

[] The Boon of Healing of Mind and Body: Fire taken with ceremony (Cost a total of 50 IM/Lantern) from the flame atop the temple will have the power to cure arcane ailments of mind and body (Restore 1d2 points of Ability Drain per day).

OOC: Keep in mind ability drain is the one that does not heal on its own. The missing domain is Tyranny hence why R'hllor seems to fluffy here, he is revealing only three quarters of himself.