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

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[X] Azel

I think we're firmly entrenched in fucking over Hoster in some manner or another, but I'm sure that something subtle can be arranged for Edmure (Imperial admin?) that might lessen the blow.
 
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Interlude CCCLXXXII: Giant's Counsel
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    • Giant's Counsel ​

    Nineteenth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC

    Mors Umber walked down the street leading to the Circle of Battle with what some might call a skip in his step were he of less fearsome mien. He had managed to find himself new armor better than castle-forged steel, and the solid weight of the two-handed mace he was thinking of calling Giant's Fist strapped to his back. According to the fellow he'd bought them from neither of them were 'real' sorcery with the right words mumbled over 'em, having been just left in a magic room like timbers fit for seasoning. The northerner didn't give much of a damn, they would keep him alive and help him bash skulls in either way.

    "Still winning, giant-man?" a rumbling familiar voice called from up ahead as one of the stone-blood giants widening the gutters waved.

    "Still moving rocks when you could be earning gold and glory you lazy oaf?" Mors called back in the same tone. He had met Urgaz on his first day in the city after having tracked down rumors of giants. He'd expected to see a bunch of folk who were bigger than usual, if that. Tales thrice told had a way of making a mountain of a molehill. Instead he had found real giants eleven, twelve feet high, so that even the women looked down at him as he would at a child, and all of them with skin like stone.

    Most men in his position would have been rather intimidated, and most Umbers might have challenged the giants to a wrestling match, but Mors was too old for that sort of foolishness, so he just struck up a conversation, asking them about their home and kin. He even made eyes at their womenfolk, just to be polite. They had taken it in good sport, one thing leading to another until night fell and Urgaz had offered him a bed for the night which Mors gladly took, not having too much silver to spare.

    "What would I do with gold and glory? I have no wish to fight or buy many shining things," the giant replied placidly.

    "You'd drink it all in a ten-day!" the northerner shot back, having seen the giant put away enough beer to drown a horse.

    Something dark passed over the giant's craggy features, though he tried to hide them.

    So that's how it was. Mors knew men who tried to drink their sorrows away. It looked like giants weren't that different that way, either. Plastering a smile on his face he hastened to add: "Or maybe you'd fucking eat it like you did those two spit-roasted pigs, eh?"

    That got a laugh as he'd hoped as Mors Umber walked on to test his new mace.

    ***​

    After fighting that easterner with the two swords the previous day and the Dragon's man who nearly did him in the day before, Mors was glad to see a knight waiting his turn on the sands. He looked to be about his own age, his armor battered from hard use but well cared for. A fighting man worth picking up a weapon that one, even if he was a southron.

    "You here too for the gold, the fame, or just to see some witchery before you die?" he grunted.

    The knight looked startled, but he didn't turn up his nose at it: "I am here to serve either the King or the Seven, though I have not yet decided which path would be best."

    "You don't look like a septon," Crowfood answered, looking the man up and down. "You ain't fat enough."

    Instead of getting a rise, maybe riling him up before the fight, the knight's smile was serene: "Fat septons are a figure of fun for a reason, but you should not judge the Faith by that measure lest you would have us measure those who keep to the Old Gods by the worst among you."

    Mors opened his mouth to argue, then he remembered the bloody wildlings and just nodded sourly. "Good luck to ye."

    "And to you," the knight answered.

    The fight that followed was fierce as the spectators might have hoped, both shields broken in the warriors' hands, blood flowing freely from a dozen wounds. Armor dented under the thundering blows of Giant's Fist, chain split upon the knight's blade, bones cracked and flesh tore, yet there was no hate behind the war-cries, no rancor of age old battles between the pious knight and the old proud northerner.

    The mace came thundering down... as much luck as skill for the men were strangely well matched for all they fought so very differently.

    A sickening crunch of breaking bone filled the arena as the knight's foot shattered under the northerner's blows. For a moment Mors tasted uncharacteristic fear in the midst of battle fury, thinking that he may have maimed a man who he might perhaps have counted friend, then he remembered the healers.

    A sword struck him under the arm where the chain had already broken, but with the side rather than the edge. "Saw... you were... distracted..." the knight gasped out.

    "Fuck's sake!" Mors shouted, exasperated and impressed all at once. "Let's call it a bloody draw. I think they've had enough fun to let us both pass."

    The roar of the crowd was proof enough of his words.

    OOC: The fight was pretty much as expected with Mors having an advantage over the higher level but lance-specked Ser Bonifer, but I was not expecting the social rolls to go as well as they did.
     
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    • DragonParadox said:
    So it is.

    @LonelyWolf999 should I just add to the total numbers or trim then down to 600?
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    I left it a little vague because they don't actually have a clean 600 guys. Although the core is pretty constant, you still have casualties, people leaving for whatever reason, and steady growth from new recruits. Putting it as 600-800 is probably more accurate, with the troop counts being more of a ratio.

    Edit: Also, I couldn't math if my life depended on it.
     
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    LonelyWolf999 said:
    I left it a little vague because they don't actually have a clean 600 guys. Although the core is pretty constant, you still have casualties, people leaving for whatever reason, and steady growth from new recruits. Putting it as 600-800 is probably more accurate, with the troop counts being more of a ratio.

    Edit: Also, I couldn't math if my life depended on it.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Eh... that's OK. Math is not my strong suite either. Let's be optimistic and call it 800.
     
    Vote closed.
    Adhoc vote count started by DragonParadox on Feb 19, 2019 at 1:11 PM, finished with 96 posts and 10 votes.
    • [X] Plan Insurrection Preparation
      -[X] Questions for The Lads
      --[X] What rumors can they tell us of the Riverlands and of Westeros as a whole?
      --[X] Can they give us an accurate accounting of what lords could be counted "loyalist" and what lords would side with the Usurper?
      --[X] What supernatural instances have they encountered or heard of (supernatural creatures, mages, clerics, etc)?
      --[X] Who are their current nearby enemies and how strong are their forces?
      --[X] How many mages do The Lads have, what types, and how strong?
      --[X] Of the men in front of us, what are their strengths in warfare? Their weaknesses? (this is basically asking for necessary intel to see what equipment would be best for them when we have the time to make it, starting with what armor and weapons each of them prefers)
      --[X] Where are the hidden safe zones for The Lads? Is there a pattern for movement or is it according to the movements of enemies?
      --[X] How would the smallfolk would react to being told to stop fighting and instead do other tasks? Their efforts are appreciated, but they lack the training to be effective combatants, and we have far more need of able hands than blades right now.
      --[X] Gift them a copy of your Extraordinary Map of the Riverlands, stripped of all secrets of Bloodraven and Varys, but marked with warnings of extreme danger in places of supernatural activity that you are aware of.
      -[X] Support and orders for The Lads.
      --[X] Give them 20 lesser ravens, 5 greater ravens and one of the newly made Braziers for communication and scouting.
      --[X] IC: They will get plenty of supplies, both monetary and in provisions from us. Use these funds and food to their advantage. OOC: We add The Lads as an army to our sheets to simplify accounting for these supplies. This includes his hypothetical numbers of peasants, so that he has enough money to go around.
      --[X] They are to establish semi-permanent local bases in the Bay of Crabs, Darry, The Trident, Southstone and Blackwood. Further outposts in Seagard and The Crossing would also be good. Focus on locations near the major rivers and use excess supplies to start building well hidden caches for the coming invasion. (See the map.)
      --[X] The core of their army gets high-quality steel equipment. (100 tons worth)
      --[X] Keep up the good work, but be careful not to antagonize the lords too much. Try to keep a low profile. Split up into small groups of no more then 100 and only come together for attacks. Use the coin, food and their aid against actual bandits to win the hearts and minds of the local population.
      --[X] Assign them 5 of our Advanced Druid Lotus Leshy we had made this month as magical support, both for healing and to hide their outposts better.
      --[X] Assign them 10 Healing Belts.
      --[X] Map:
    Click to expand...
     
    A melee with good reach, Mage Slayer, Combat Reflexes and Standstill could charge at the start of combat and lock the entire enemy team from casting.
     
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