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

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Duesal said:
He definitely wasn't a Fate Spinner, but he did have some kind of luck magic.

As for when Yss is available...

That was when the sacrifice was performed.

The sacrifices were Colossal Fiendish Monstrous Spiders (CR 13 each) to undo Lolth's divine curse on the two Chwidenchas and restore them to their original forms, and Tor (CR 15) and Varys (CR 17 with gear, CR 16 without?) to make Tor the Rakshasa as a proper guide for us in the Shadow Plane.

I have no idea what that adds up to in terms of CR, but here are the current mechanics:

CR 1-9 - (1dX)/2 Days
CR 10-15 - 1dX Days
CR 15-20 - 1d2*X Days

And DP would need to roll.
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That would be CR 19 total so 1d38 which came out as 21 days.
 
Want to remind people that the one Sallosh caravan we saved from bandits, on our way delivering the Little Essarians to SD and where Lya recaptured the Vrock, had a Sallosh Ian lady who was implied to be a Fatespinner. So maybe we could check in on that little province soon.
 
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Part MMDCCXIII: The Honor of the Joust
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    • The Honor of the Joust​

    Twenty-Eighth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC

    "I certainly would not object to you joining the Inquisition. You certainly possess the skills for it, and if there is one group who should be wholly immune to silly superstitions about your nature it's them..."

    "But?" Azema interjects, sounding a touch frustrated beneath the flirtatious veneer. She is genuinely anxious about this, you realize belatedly. It is no easy task to see through all the masks she piles one atop the other, but for just a moment you catch a glimpse of loneliness in her glamour-veiled gaze.

    "I was about to point out that I intend to greatly expand the university of Sorcerer's Deep in the coming months, among those courses both theoretical and practical for artists of various sorts. Your involvement great or small would be appreciated," you finish, keeping your voice carefully neutral. Azema might be seeking companionship but she would not appreciate sympathy over-much.

    "Oh..." she sighs. "Thank you, that sounds fascinating, but well... it would feel like a waste to do just that. I have wings to fly and claws and spell to fight, unless I want to resign myself to a life of mending cuts and bruises for the unfortunate. I don't know if you have noticed, but I am not of the most saintly disposition." So saying the Alu Demon bats her lashes at you almost theatrically.

    "I have noticed in fact," you reply dryly. "About your first request, I think it is safe enough with more fiend-blooded about thanks to the Terminus, you can easily play a newcomer."

    "Thank you," Azema says as she takes a seat to watch the joust. She still does not say 'Your Grace' and you suspect she never will, but you trust both her loyalty and good sense a good bit more than that of a great many people who are practically jumping at the chance to do so.

    The first tilt of the final four pits the Dothraki Ivezqoy against the earnest Ser Karyl Grafton. The first pass shatters lances in a terrific display that would have ended with one or both of them dead had they been using sharpened points. The Valeman is plowed off while the Legion rider almost manages to cling to her saddle by sheer will, but slips off just short of the end of the run.

    On the second tilt both hit solidly, but both riders are braced against the blows and take them unflinchingly.

    "Watch that one, she has something to prove," Azema comments idly, looking at the Dothraki.

    "That is generally the sort of people who partakes in a public spectacle for the sake of gold and glory," you point out in turn.

    "It's more than that," the Alu Demon shakes her head slowly as though searching for words. "She is brittle, all that she is hanging upon a single thread. Were this another time..." she sighs, not needing to say more. You mark her words well but do not judge the rider in the armor of the Legion for it. She has found shelter under your banners and for it she deserves protection. She has chosen to aid you in building your realm and for that she deserves respect.

    One last time the lances smash together, though the woman in dark armor strikes wide while Grafton flings her off with another solid blow to the chest. For just a moment as she struggles to her feet you see the fragility Azema had spoken of, the bleakness sheathed in rage you had glimpsed in the eyes of far too many former slaves. Still, she collects herself and rides off.

    The next meeting is far less protracted as Ser Jon Redfort flings Ser Karl Terrick from the saddle, taking only a glancing hit in return. The crowd's cheers are more dutiful than excited, but both knights take it in good spirits with the winner waiting for the loser to quit the field before doing his victory lap.

    Still, this is not quite the end. First for the third place Ivezqoy faces the Riverlander knight. The Dothraki has the better eye, and in spite of a bone-rattling hit she manages to sweep her opponent from the saddle with a fierce war cry amid the crack of splintering wood, securing the third place for herself.

    So at last it comes to this, two knights of the Vale facing off under the blazing Stepstones sun. They charge, they clash... Ser Karyl's lance goes wide, though passing unintentionally close to his opponent's visor slit. The Redfort knight almost over-balances and falls as he delivers his own blow...

    Almost...

    On such an edge are battles won and lost, the blow strikes true, and Jon Redfort is the winner of the joust, though of course the heralds cannot call out that name, for he is a mystery knight. You suppose it's fitting for such a knight to win considering how many of them you have seen over the past few days. Still, much like Ser Balon he is going to have to take off his visor to get land, and you have yet to meet a younger son of a Westerosi House who does not dream of his own keep.

    "A marvelous showing from all who have ridden here," you congratulate the winners, just as you had done for the melee, mage, and archery competition, your voice ringing across the stands by sorcery.

    Ser Jon does not seem inclined to argue the manner of the delivery, the flush of victory overshadowing his concerns for magic. He dips his lance in your honor and bows his head as much as one can from atop a war horse.

    ***​

    As you descend from the stands with Dany and Ser Richard at your side, Azema having vanished into the shadows in search of her next entertainment, you find yourself face to face with a familiar dark-haired girl and two legionaries trailing behind her.

    Mya Stone stutters as she greets you but she does not look away, whatever cause she has to be here must be important enough that she had sought you out rather than this just being a chance encounter on the crowded steps.

    "I... er, had something I wanted to ask you? Well... you and Ser Royce, but I can't find him so..." She looks like she would very much prefer directions to Waymar, but given that he is spending time with his family and that Ysila Royce's identity is still a carefully guarded secret you cannot oblige her.

    After a moment of awkward silence she gathers up her courage and asks: "What does it take to get into the Griffon Knights?"

    "For you?" you ask, confused to be asked the same question again. You had already presented the option to her.

    "No, it's for Mychel, " she swallows, then speaks quickly as though fearing an interruption. "Mychel Redfort. He's Ser Jon's squire and I'm sure he'll be as great a knight as his brother, but he doesn't reallyt want land. We figured that since Ser Jon won't be going back to the Vale anyway, what with you promising land to the winners..."

    "We figured?" Dany prompts, likely reasoning that the question would be less embarrassing coming from her.

    The girl blushes, confirming your suspension that there is far more than simple prior acquaintance to that 'we'. "Well... he couldn't exactly walk up to you and ask, but since Ser Jon looked to be having a good chance at winning and he is going to be busy with his new lands...."

    "Just what sort of lands would he prefer?" you ask, reasoning that you might as well get some use out of this entanglement.

    "Mychel said that his brother was thinking of a hilly place where he can build a strong fort, but with a river to serve as a path in and out and good soil in the vales. He wants to raise horses so he can have a strong fighting tail and maybe grow grapes or something of that sort for trade."

    What do you reply?

    [] Write in

    OOC: Here we go, the final was actually a lot less exciting roll-wise then the tilts for third place, but hopefully the way I fluffed it worked alright.
     
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  • Threadmarks
    • It'll be amusing if his dislike of magic keeps Redfort from accepting all of his enchanted prizes.
     
    Azel said:
    Just give our equipment the name of whatever fiend we squeezed like an orange to make it.
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    By the way, @DragonParadox, is it possible to compress a sacrifice?

    Like, every Fiendish HD yields 50 lbs of Valyrian Steel.

    Could we instead take, say, a Cornugon, and use it to make just one Greatsword? All 15 HD that would have been 750 lbs of Valyrian Steel poured into a single weapon.

    Is this a worthwhile thing to poke at, or is it just a waste of Valyrian Steel?
     
    Snowfire said:
    Bad idea. Given time, a determined enough opponent could probably use those two components to form a metaphysical connection to the item and induce unpleasantness.
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    Essence is sheared away from it regardless and the reduced fiend is sent to their home plane.

    All they have to do is locate the devil with blood bound to it and they have all they need to do exactly that.

    Just food for thought.
     
    [X] Meet with two of your guests
    -[X] Silure and Oberyn
    -[X] Inquire about the land she wants formal authority over, her reasons to try and get it and what Oberyn as the future Count of the lands this Vaerosia is in thinks about the issue

    Getting that out of the way.
    Also testing the waters with Oberyn, I wonder how he will treat this.
    Since they already talked there is propably already a plan how they want this handled.
     
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    Duesal said:
    By the way, @DragonParadox, is it possible to compress a sacrifice?

    Like, every Fiendish HD yields 50 lbs of Valyrian Steel.

    Could we instead take, say, a Cornugon, and use it to make just one Greatsword? All 15 HD that would have been 750 lbs of Valyrian Steel poured into a single weapon.

    Is this a worthwhile thing to poke at, or is it just a waste of Valyrian Steel?
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    Viserys is not sure, though he suspects that just directing the wish part of the ritual do do that would result in an explosion, if it can be done it will require a finer touch.
     
    Duesal said:
    By the way, @DragonParadox, is it possible to compress a sacrifice?

    Like, every Fiendish HD yields 50 lbs of Valyrian Steel.

    Could we instead take, say, a Cornugon, and use it to make just one Greatsword? All 15 HD that would have been 750 lbs of Valyrian Steel poured into a single weapon.

    Is this a worthwhile thing to poke at, or is it just a waste of Valyrian Steel?
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    I think that concentrating the outsider bits will net us with a weapon of pure alignment.

    To be fair, if we are pouring a whole cornugon in there, we might as well make the sword from pure concentrated evil.
     
    DragonParadox said:
    Viserys is not sure, though he suspects that just directing the wish part of the ritual do do that would result in an explosion, if it can be done it will require a finer touch.
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    I'll bring it up later when our research is more grounded.
    Tomcost said:
    I think that concentrating the outsider bits will net us with a weapon of pure alignment.

    To be fair, if we are pouring a whole cornugon in there, we might as well make the sword from pure concentrated evil.
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    That was precisely what I was going for.
     
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