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

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Does anyone else think robert should have a permanent constitution penalty for drinking so much alcohol?
Man I just wanna invade westeros. So many things to do.

I want to sacrfice robert to cersei for she is the true god of the setting. With her wise masterful plan she will kill the king and keep the kingdom for she is wise and all knowing.
 
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Azel said:
There is no right or wrong, only choices and the regrets they leave.

I have no regrets.
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No regrets.

But maybe desire to see what could have been had there been other decisions made?

All I'm saying is that if someone can clone DP, or construct a perfect digital copy in the forum, he or she should do it so we get to the paths not taken.
 
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Horde Thief Chapter XLII
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    Horde Thief
    Chapter 42​

    "Wizards of the White Council," the voice of what appeared to be a young man filled the room around me. Exactly where Harry had found him I still wasn't sure, yet I was glad that my own checks on him had cleared. I'd have preferred for the person speaking now to have come from the Council, and given time I believe that could have been Harry, but with the Fomor and everything else pressing down on us, that time wasn't there anymore. As Captain of the Wardens, I knew that better than anyone.

    "…as one so concerned, I thank you for the offer that brought me here," the silver-haired Targaryen continued, every word in flawless Latin, with an accent I couldn't place despite centuries of experience. Yet those words stretched to fill the entire room, as if every one of them was spoken personally, instead of to the crowd. There were few better arguments than that against his apparent youth, or maybe his apparent humanity. Yet this was the sort of person we'd needed to take the fight to the Merlin, and even with all the power he'd shown in humbling the Fomor across a continent, he'd been willing to work with us despite the patronising tone taken by more conservative members of the Senior Council.

    According to Harry's reports, this Targaryen would have tried to change things even had there been no movement already there to support. His reaction to how the Council enforced the Laws had apparently been…expressive, and standing here as he spoke, I could almost believe he'd have found a way to succeed.

    "You know why I stand here before you," as if summoned by that thought, the pleasantries came to an end. "Why I have driven a nation of predators from the shores of a continent," there was no 'when you could not' tacked on to the end of the sentence, but it was somehow more audible in its absence. "A matter has come before this body in recent weeks, of Council justice, and how the Wardens are directed to enforce it." He paused, the moment of silence somehow lending his words a depth of presence beyond simply theatre. "And because they are losing the battle to do so."

    A stir swept the chamber, a murmur of uncertain voices and true fear. Five years ago, in the depths of the war against the Red Court, such a statement would have been unthinkable from one of the Council's own, let alone an outsider. And yet, in the here and now it was clear he was right. The Red Court had not fallen to the Council, or to the Wardens. The act that had destroyed them had been the choice of a single man, who stood a few steps from me. And afterwards, when there should have been peace? The Fomor had risen.

    We were holding on, but even with the Wardens strengthened in the closing years of the war, it was only that. And we were slipping. Monsters pouring out of the dark places of the world. The White Court, the Fae, and a dozen other supernatural nations clearly preparing for something. Warlocks continuing to outrun our efforts to curtail them, and I could see the beginning of the wave that Dresden had warned me about after helping bring the Fomor invasion of the United States to a screeching halt. We'd come out of the war stronger than we'd been in centuries, but we weren't invincible, and we couldn't be everywhere. We needed another option.

    "Some among you," the steady words continued, "would argue to hold to tradition, blithely confident that what has served for this long will surely endure," another pause, and I felt the room suddenly take a breath, holding it, waiting. "Yet those with eyes to see know the world is not the same as it was when those traditions were made. You, the keepers of wisdom, must know how the last century has changed the world. How magic has flowered across the breadth of the planet in uncounted places, and how your dictates and tradition have not been sufficient to the task. How they have failed time and again to catch and nurture those blossoms."

    More whispers filled the air, and yet even among the Merlin's supporters there was little true disagreement. Nobody liked what Viserys Targaryen was saying, but that wasn't the same thing as anyone being able to say it was wrong. The presentations I'd given in the last weeks meant that was effectively impossible.

    Yet where another might have listed a litany of the Council's losses, he did not. Instead, he gave a sad smile, and I suddenly realised where he was going. "At the Senior Council's request, I have walked with a Warden against the workings of Black Magic. I have upheld and worked to enforce your Laws. And I have seen with my own eyes what it costs you." Irises of a faded purple swept the room, the intensity behind them almost painful, and none met that gaze. Harry had said little of what he'd seen in his Soulgaze with the Targaryen, but he'd told me enough to know I didn't want to either. Not here.


    Watching Viserys speak was like, well, I wasn't sure there was a good word for it. Like a master conducting a symphony, perhaps. I knew there was magic in his words, in his motions, but he was already such a creature of that power that it was unlikely anyone would notice. There were few beings that could use power this way without it being enthrallment, and few would dare attempt such a thing so openly.

    "Warlocks, those who break the Laws fully and with intent, deserve the death that they earn for themselves. But with every Practitioner who becomes one, you lose a colleague," his eyes flicked to the groups of Wardens scattered about the room. "A comrade," then to the discreet and less so groups of wizards that formed that major power blocs. "An ally. And you lose them to a system that issues punishment instead of prevention simply because it lacks the commitment to do more than make the most token effort."

    It was odd, really, watching the labours of years come to fruition by the words of another, who I'd only known for a few months. And yet, it was working. I could see it, in the way those around me held themselves. I might be an utter fool when it comes to more delicate interactions, just ask my dating life. But I'd learnt, grudgingly, to read the Council. I'd complain later at myself later, right now it was helping.

    "Not more than a dozen days past, I met a young woman who, if help had been there for her when she'd needed it most, could have stood beside you one day as one of your best. Her skill could have been turned to aiding the Council, instead of being wasted so pointlessly. Imagine what she might have done with that life." My eyes burned for a moment with the memory of a woman who'd only wanted to protect her family, driven to death by it.

    "Every day, the Wardens are ordered to exact this Council's justice, and for duty's sake they do so with grim finality. An unwavering sword that in its proudest moments defends you all from the darkness, forced by circumstance to chip away at itself every time it swings. That bleeds the forces of organized wizardry by a thousand tiny cuts. And you must see that you cannot afford to be weakened so, not with the world so precariously balanced."
    Then what are we meant to do. I could almost feel the question, in a dozen different tones. Viserys, of course, had predicted that. That or he was one of the most exceptional social improvisers I'd ever met. Probably both, actually.

    "I'm not suggesting that the Laws have failed, Wizards. I know the dire nature of the need for their enforcement. I only ask for adjustment in how they're enforced. Some might say that tradition shouldn't change, that it must remain set in stone lest it change the world. But the world does not provide to us the chance to arrange it to our preference. It has already changed, as it always does, and seldom does it wait for permission."


    "All I ask is that you stop trying to destroy yourself. You've seen what the Paranet is capable of. What it could be, given real support." You stared out past the silver-haired figure upon whose actions this entire disagreeable matter rested. Oh, Dresden had done his part, and Luccio too. But without…Viserys Targaryen, you'd have been able to approach this more carefully, across the years needed to properly evaluate the Council's options. Remove one tradition, after all, and how strong would the next one be when challenged?

    And yet, you could feel the shift in the crowd already. There were still paths you could take, options you had ready to bring against the worryingly powerful entity that had chosen to involve itself so deftly in Council affairs. But would it change anything? You didn't think so. Not now.

    It is a strange thing, when an empire falters. Some say a fall should come in fire. Others to deafening applause. Here and now, it came in a brief moment of silence, and everyone in the chamber felt it. You, the Merlin of the White Council, lose.

    If the being before you noticed that moment, he gave no sign. He simply took a breath, and kept talking.
     
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    • Many thanks to @Sqweaktoy for helping me with this. I'd intended to have this up last night, but I sent it off to Sqweak to check and then promptly passed out. I was having quite a bit of trouble with the speech and actually bringing it all together from Viserys' point of view, until I hit upon the idea of doing what sometimes occurs in the quest proper; seeing Viserys speak from an outside perspective. I hope the three different perspectives are distinct enough to make sense of.

    We'll have a broad aftermath chapter after this, and then a few….loose ends to clean up before I bring Arc 2 to a close. I hope this was worth the wait.
     
    So I had this thought how many people are naming their babies after Viserys right now in sorcerers deep? He's a pretty popular guy among slaves there's gotta be a few named after him right?
     
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