A Sword Without a Hilt: A Song of Ice and Fire/D&D 3.5 Crossover
- Thread starter DragonParadox
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- a song of ice and fire a sword without a hilt d&d 3.5 dungeons & dragons 100% high octane dragon fuel ave corvidae battle action dragon diplomacy best sister bureaucromancy delicious soul-stuff dragon dreams come true dragon ta'veren greatest uncle hubris is a coward's word in defiance of gods and men mammon's folly mutually assured mage's disjunction qm murderhobo top tier coatl
- Location
- washington
Whip me harder doggy snowfire.
- Location
- France
Setting the record straight: I've complained about hugs for two reasons in this thread:
- When I posted something depressing (typically about what our enemies have been doing) and wanted people to prove me wrong but instead just got hugs
- When I posted that [first world problems] post about a boat cruise during "thread goes off-topic" time and got hugs for complaining about the pettiest shit imaginable.
I'm sorry for the double colon
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- Location
- Australia
Whip me harder doggy snowfire.
I thought you were supposed to muzzle the dog?
- Location
- washington
Snowfire might be into some kinky shit like degrading people via his doggy self with a whip. It sounds like some really weird bdsm Chinese shit you might find online.
Crake
I AM THE STORM THAT IS APPROACHING
- Location
- USA
Setting the record straight: I've complained about hugs for two reasons in this thread:
- When I posted something depressing (typically about what our enemies have been doing) and wanted people to prove me wrong but instead just got hugs
- When I posted that [first world problems] post about a boat cruise during a "thread goes off-topic" day and got hugs for complaining about the pettiest shit imaginable.
I'm sorry for the double colon
And now to shower this post in hugs, thus completing this Ouroboros of pointless bull-dickery.
Am I some kind of idiot savant at shitposting? You be the judge!
The answer is yes.
- Location
- washington
I like the symbolism.And now to shower this post in hugs, thus completing this Ouroboros of pointless bull-dickery.
Am I some kind of idiot savant at shitposting? You be the judge!
The answer is yes.
- Location
- Germany
It helps a great deal that especially Westerosi are shit at this. Their notion of the king watching them is the king or some notable lord or knight being directly present or some easily bribeable thug in a golden cloak who wouldn't dare to offend a noble anyway.
The notion of hundreds of people doing nothing but watching people for the king, not wearing fancy uniforms, but regular peasant garb, would be utterly alien to them. And the Inquisition has nothing to fear from these people either. They will never be publicly linked to having snitched on Noble McEmbezzelment and thus don't need to worry about reprisals.
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- Location
- Goose Land
So far we have
- Myles Mooton
- Various Lonmouth family members but definitely Richard's sister
- Other people in the Silver Prince Party Crew?
- The Sons of Umber and possibly the Daughter of Umber
- Lyanna Stark
- Ned's older brother and father?
- The Old Kingsguard who died during Robert's Rebellion? Probably just the Darry
- Joanna Lannister?
Also "Richard v Robert, the rematch" was not something I was expecting to be hype about in regards to a drinking contest.
Goldfish
Friendly Spider-Fish Abomination
- Location
- Formerly of the Far Realm
That's just excessive, despite the apparent restraint compared to some suggestions earlier in the thread.
Willem Darry? Sure, he earned it.
Richard's sister? Sure, if he wants us to.
Every halfway decent person from canon whose name we happen to know? No.
Moonsong ashed what his greatest desire and she got the answer: "Kill Gregor" and then she asked about his greatest fears and got the answers you would expect: fire and his brother. Finally she asked how he could overcome his fears/achieve his goals and the divination got a riddle about hammers that she reproduced pretty much verbatim.
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- Location
- Germany
- Location
- Goose Land
I was more bulleting out a potential list of "halfway decent and politically advantageous, or beneficial to the mental health of the Party, or otherwise resolving a Debt" for us to discuss rather than saying "We should rez all of these people definitely."
tarrangar
Fat arctic chicken
If they have relatives who will pay for it, I don't see why not.
- Location
- ?????????
Did DPs internet finally give out. Is DP dead? Find out next time on ASHWAH.
Goldfish
Friendly Spider-Fish Abomination
- Location
- Formerly of the Far Realm
Stock in yellow vest manufacturers increases in value marginally.
That's better than nothing, I suppose?
- Location
- United States
A decent chunk of our ancestors are most likely either in Hell or the Abyss. The Seven were not at all fans of the Targaryens.
A few would be with the Seven, though. I wouldn't doubt that they'll be used as weapons against us, like Baelor was.
Goldfish
Friendly Spider-Fish Abomination
- Location
- Formerly of the Far Realm
Meh.
Most of our ancestors were douchenozzles. They likely ended up in Hell, or worse. Those who went to the Seven's afterlife are just fine. Gods don't torment their devout followers just because their descendents are enemies. At least those that are not the blatantly mustache-twirling Evil types.
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- Location
- Germany
- Pronouns
- He/Him
There's a non-nil chance that we steeled one of our earliest ancestors already ...
Update in beta. Sorry this took so long. There is just so much to unpack, with all the new characters that I had two false starts
Part MMDCXXXIII: Aid Unlooked For
Aid Unlooked For
Nineteenth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC
As the construct messenger plucks the letter for Lord Stark from your hand and flies off, shrouding in a glamour before it had even passed the window, you are left hoping that he would take your offer of assistance in the spirit it was given and not as some attempt to lead him further along the path to turning his cloak.
For all your carefully chosen words there is a difference between offering him magic to guard his own keep than it is to speak of the readiness of the Wall against the Winter-To-Be in Jeor Mormont's solar at Castle Black. Aid to the Watch can only be used for one purpose, whereas these new arcane protections passed from you through Braavosi traders would forevermore be part of the wealth and patronage of House Stark. Still, you trust that the man who set aside his oaths for kin on that bleak day at the Tower of Joy will make the same choice once again, and so turn your thoughts to other matters, other far less reluctant allies.
***
Ser Benjicot Brown is a man easy to pick out from the group in the small private hall of the Golden Hearth, not for his arms and armor, though they are fine enough if obviously well used, nor for the unfamiliar heraldry on a tabard and cape, a shattered sword over a dark brown background. Rather it is an ineffable sense of greater purpose, something about the way the old knight sits, or perhaps the determined gleam to his eye. The wooden mug of ale in front of him has long gone flat as he is obviously more interested in looking around the tavern for the contact he is supposed to meet over wine and drink.
Those sitting with him, obviously friends as well as retainers, seem more relaxed and willing to let their leader stay on watch while they take their ease. You count five knights and a young man who is yet a squire's age, all looking exceptionally well armed and armored for 'outlaws' of any sort, a young man with the look of Old Valyria about him who is fidgeting with the collar of an obviously unfamiliar shirt, and a bard idly stroking the chords of a harp who from his easy smile looks like he would be comfortable damn near anywhere, or at least put on a good show of it.
"That's rather a lot of them," Garin says mildly, briefly returned to the Deep to find out what rumors and tales of Westeros these guests bring. "I suspect an alliance of some sort with the local lords far beyond looking the other way."
"It would not be the first time knights took to such tactics, and not merely hedge knights either," you nod. "The Riverlands has ever been a fractious place at the best of times, and the reign of Robert Baratheon in these days of waking magic are far indeed from that."
Ser Richard snorts at the words, likely remembering some of the darker tales of knights turned to butchery and rapine supposedly in the work of some grander ideal. Still, he seems pleased enough to see men who had raised the Three Headed Dragon banner of their own volition, though he gives one of the knights, a wiry man with a thick black beard, a wary look: "That's Black Walder Frey right enough, Your Grace."
When you had discovered that not only was Ser Benjicot seen in the company of a Frey knight but a grandson of the 'Late' Lord himself with a decent claim on the Twins you had tried to get some handle on what the old weasel, or his ambitious relatives, may want from you. Alas you don't have anyone with insight in the tangled generational plots of House Frey at hand, so the most you were able to discover about Black Walder is that he is said to have a temper, and to have slept with a good number of his more attractive female relatives. While you are inclined to take the latter rumor with a healthy helping of salt you can certainly read the impatience in his dark eyes, veiled imperfectly by the desire to put on a good show for you.
The third knight knight to introduce himself to you is Ser Garse Goodbrook. He manages to stutter over your title and then falls awkwardly silent, his look practically begging Ser Benjicot to rescue him, though there might be something like an edge of resentment to that, too.
Though the elder knight is far from comfortable himself in your company he hides it better than most of his companions, quickly introducing you to Ser Harold Hawicks, his distant kinsman with whom he has been but recently reunited with. That story is hardly difficult to read into for it is clear Ser Benjicot had been a hedge knight for most of his life with the Hawicks knowing and caring nothing of him until he rose to prominence in the Riverlands. In spite of that fact genuine respect and perhaps even friendship seems to have grown between the two men, certainly far more so than with Black Walder who looks like he would much rather be alone with you and not just one more face around a crowded table.
Last of the full knights to introduce himself is Ser Raynald Mooton, though makes up for his lateness with wholly genuine fervor, seeming to hardly be able to constrain himself from asking when you intend to make use of his enthusiastically offered sword. He would have lost an uncle in the waters of the Trident, you remember, though whether it is the call of spilled blood or glory yet to be earned that call to him you cannot say. Perhaps he does not even know himself. It is that man's very son Derrick Rivers who is Ser Benjicot's squire, less headlong than Raynald perhaps but no less earnest. In truth the boy reminds you of Waymar when you first met him, though perhaps a touch more grim from the battles he has been fighting.
Meanwhile the dragonseed, Gaemon by name according to a helpful Derrick, seems to have swallowed his tongue. From the faraway look in his eye you can well guess why. A sorcerer, and one with the thought to look at you with more than eyes of flesh. Doubtlessly the utter absence of any aura of magic to your obviously magical accouterments has given him a fright.
"In the battle of magic knowledge is among the sharpest weapons, one it pays to deny to the enemy," you explain with a smile that thankfully puts him at ease.
"Pardon me for saying so, Your Grace, but you don't need to be teaching us about the virtues of hiding," the bard, Tom Sevenstream, interjects, earning a veiled glare from Black Walder and a small shake of the head from Ser Benjicot, likely worried about how you would take his irreverence.
"Indeed I do not," you agree. "Your efforts in gathering so many allies against the Usurper in so short a span of time and preserving that strength in the face of his efforts to hunt you down are commendable for their valor and wit both."
Ser Benjicot Brown straightens up even more in his seat on hearing these words as though they had stoked some inner fire. He goes on to recount the numbers of his following, his small army truth be told, for they have recently grown too numerous to live off the land, or even to be gathered in one place. The core of the band is almost eight-hundred picked men of which a hundred are knights and twice as many squires, and about as many men-at-arms and half again as many skirmishers. Adding to their numbers are smallfolk sympathetic to their cause, gathered wherever they go. The old knight explains that all told where he to call up all he could, short of the noble houses raising their banners in rebellion, there would be three or perhaps even four thousand men in the field, though he ruefully explains that he would have 'a devil of a time' supplying all of them.
Indeed supplies have proven the breaking point that had lead to them reaching out to you to begin with, with the tourney being only a fortunate coincidence, though certainly a hopeful one from their perspective. So far they had lived off the offerings first of smallfolk then the donations of loyalist lords, or reading between the lines, lords wishing to hedge their bets.
However, last month their band was cornered against the river as they were trying to buy supplies off a port on the Trident by a sally from Lord Keath and his banners. Fortunately for them and unfortunately for Lord Keath's third son dead in the counter-charge the attackers had seriously underestimated the numbers and mettle of the 'outlaws'.
Picked band of 800:
Equipment/Supplies: The Lads are a guerrilla, volunteer force. They have what people bring with them. Knights have plate and steeds, hunters have bows, and peasants' sharpened hoes.
Locations: The Lads were born in the Eastern Riverlands/Greater Crownlands and that's where the base of their supports stems. As their reputation, size, and ability grew, so has their reach. Currently, they span from Antlers to the Crossing, although resistance from local lords and smallfolk is a serious problem in areas they aren't established in.
Division: Currently split in three under the following commanders:
- 100 knights
- 200 squires
- 200 'men-at-arms'
- 300 skirmishers (archers, crossbowmen, rangers)
Equipment/Supplies: The Lads are a guerrilla, volunteer force. They have what people bring with them. Knights have plate and steeds, hunters have bows, and peasants' sharpened hoes.
Locations: The Lads were born in the Eastern Riverlands/Greater Crownlands and that's where the base of their supports stems. As their reputation, size, and ability grew, so has their reach. Currently, they span from Antlers to the Crossing, although resistance from local lords and smallfolk is a serious problem in areas they aren't established in.
Division: Currently split in three under the following commanders:
- Ser Benjicot Brown: 50% of all forces
- Byron Sykes (Pointsman): 25% of all forces
- Seamus "Justman" Rivers: 25% of all forces
"That'll make for bad blood," Ser Richard says grimly.
"Too true, Ser Knight," Ser Benjicot sighs, having become more comfortable with your sworn sword if not yet with yourself and Garin throughout the conversation. "I had to split the Lads up," he says it like a proper name and quiet pride in the saying. "But that just means they can take us apart piecemeal if they're clever about it."
"How do you know when to move and when to when to slip away?" Garin interjects.
"Well now," Tom interjects. "The smallfolk love a good song, and sometimes it rubs off on the singer, not to mention the gratitude over clearing out actual bandits' nests their lords couldn't be bothered to handle and other strangers things of which no doubt Your Grace knows more than us. Then there's Kennick, he used to be a Darry armsman, and he still knows folks." He pauses for a moment, more for effect than any hesitation you would judge before adding. "Smallfolk aren't the only ones that love a singer. I used to know Ravella Smallwood... ah better than most and we parted on good terms."
What do you do next?
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OOC: It's clear Black Walder would like to talk to you in private, too.
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