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

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Interlude DLXXXIV: Those Who Pass in Shadow
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    • Those Who Pass in Shadow ​

    Eighteenth Day of the Tenth Month 293 AC

    The Fire Giant 'assistants' of the Fakir of Fortune were surprisingly gentle as they carried in the tall clay jars. Presumably their master had somehow impressed upon them the worth of flame clove oil and indeed fifteen of them did contain the rare reagent, bought at an advantageous price from a merchant who needed to get it off his hands quickly, but the last five contained a cargo under wards of lead.

    Bronn bit back a curse as one of the brutes rumbled: "This one feels lighter than the others, d'you think someone tried to trick the boss?"

    "Hope so, a fat merchant like that would be good eating it would," another gave an ugly laugh that sent a shiver through the sellsword. He'd made his peace with the fact that he might end up dead in a ditch chasing fortune long ago, but there was something just plain worse about the idea of ending up in a stew pot. Even if the Dragon King magics me back to life I'll still know my bones are laying in some pile of giant shit.

    Thankfully the other Fire Giant satisfied himself with an appreciative grunt as he continued through the shop carrying the jars then downstairs to the basement where the Fakir kept most of his stock. It was only when he felt the heavy definitive thump of the jar he was in being set down that Bronn breathed a little easier, though not for long. This would be the worst time to get discovered, with half of them still outside the shop and half inside, not even knowing which of them had been carried in already.

    Time passed with nothing but the infrequent thuds of the Fire Giant's iron-shod feet to mark its passage. Then a voice cold and clear as steel striking flint spoke: "Be at ease, mortal. I am near, the time of our enemy's judgement is almost at hand."

    "Glad to hear from you too, Sarell,"     the mercenary sent back flippantly, though truth be told he had never been happier to know a Devil was near in his life. Pa always said I'd take up with Devils being a sword for hire, but I don't think he meant the proper sort of Devil.

    It was only when he felt a flicker of surprise and something that might be cold amusement that he realized he'd spoken the thought 'aloud', by whatever measure that counted when you were talking in someone's head. "Your father was a wiser man than you, Master Bronn," she replied.

    "My father was a fool who died crushed under a girder of half-rotted wood trying to patch up the roof one time too many without the coppers to do it right. I'm not lacking for coppers these days, or gold and silver," he shot back at once. It had been a long time since he thought of the old man. For a moment he wondered if he could scrape up enough gold to bring him back from the dead just to see the look on his face when he saw how far his scoundrel of a son had come, but he dismissed the notion just as quickly. His pa would probably refuse to come back not out of faith in the Seven, but because it wouldn't be 'his place' to do it.

    "Power is not the sole province of the wise," Sarell needled him.

    "I'm not looking for power yet, just gold, though I wouldn't say no to a nice castle somewhere where the weather's fine and the women are half as comely as you," Bronn answered, unwilling to let her have the last word.

    "Gold is power for you, Master Bronn, power over your own life," the Devil replied. Then before he could get another word in she added. "The others are here."

    So indeed they were, as Bronn broke the seal on his jar he emerged to see Maelor just climbing out and Sarell having obviously translocated out under the unwillingly looks of the two Ash Bloods. Not knowing she was a Devil they must think she was a powerful sorceress indeed, a fact supported by the fact that her armor had been glamoured to look like long flowing robes and her face to look human. They weren't in this just to kill one damn shop keep and take his skull so Malarys could ask it some questions after all, but also to keep the Dervishes of the Sultan off their trail.

    Speaking of thugs, the man Sariq had brought with him clearly was a sorcerer from the fire that danced between fingers. Dark as a Summer Islander's, marked with pale scars that spoke of a life hard lived and eyes hard as dragonstone, this Agha looked like the sort of man who might be useful as more than a goose to weigh down for the hounds, but the proof would come in the fight one way or the other.


    "Who walks ahead?" he asked, putting away the flames with a satisfied look like a man stretching his muscles.

    Maelor looked through the crowded basement, his eyes fixed on the set of giant sized stairs leading up into the dark. How far down had they gone? Bronn wondered.

    "There's a conjured mark warding the way up that way. If I were one to make wagers I would say banishing it would not be entirely wise."

    "So we walk through blind?" Sariq snorted.

    "Darkness will not bar my sight," Sarell proclaimed. "Link hands." Her grip was light but unshakable as steel in Bronn's hand. He trusted it a hell of a lot more than he did most of those he had fought besides.

    OOC: So this turned into a bit of a Bronn character piece. The fight will be next interlude.
     
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    • DragonParadox said:


    "I'm not looking for power yet just gold, though I wouldn't say no to a nice castle somewhere where the weather's fine and the women are half as comely as you,"     Bronn answered unwilling to let her have the last word.

    "Gold is power for you Master Bronn, power over your own life," the devil replied. Then before he could get another word in she added. "The others are here."
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    You keep playing hard to get Lady Bigcastle, it will only make victory all the sweeter.
     
    Tomcost said:
    All this Bronn and Sarell is actually the prelude for Richard x Mereth. We just need to see Bronn fail so much to make Richard look even more badass.

    That's the strategic narrative, right, @DragonParadox ?
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    For what it's worth Bronn is not seriously pursuing the devil who can hunt him down to the ends of the earth and shoot him full of arrows from on high, he prefers his relationships less... daring.

    Artemis1992 said:
    You know that spell won't touch Bronn, right?
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    Yes, that's the warning shot, the arrows come later.
     
    Ah, Bronn, you're always a fun read. I'm glad y'all didn't let me kill him when we first captured him back in the day.
     
    Vote closed.
    Adhoc vote count started by DragonParadox on Sep 23, 2019 at 2:32 PM, finished with 37 posts and 11 votes.
    • [X] "Tell me true, my Lord--ordinarily I would offer counsel, but I feel I must know. Do you truly not wish to rule the lands of your birthright? More of my own right to rule I believe to be founded on my capability to rule where all in the realm know Baratheon to be unsuited, indolent even, refusing to take up the basic burdens or bare minimum of his duties to which he is obliged, much as the reason I refuse to resort to butchery and barbarism to impose my claim as many Lords might expect of a conquering king."
      -[X] "So what manner of Lady would your mother make? What rule would she bring to these lands? What I have seen is that she has allowed your name to be run aground, even though this weakens her own right to rule as she derives her power through your claim, nearly allowed this treachery to take place, and opened up your Keep to internal dissent for petty reasons."
      -[X] "Advice I can avail you to, tools and resources so that you might weather the storm, but one has to begin to try before one can start at any undertaking."
      [X] However ill prepared he might be for the task, he was at last not cruel to the people of his fief nor even to Janna when she admitted having known about a plot to poison him. Offer counsel on how best to rule wile not losing the things that are important to him
      -[X] The time of Lords ruling through fear and might of arms is near at an end, the realm will soon have need of Lords who are good administrators and well versed in the law, if that doesn't seem enough for him, there is might to be found in books as well, though that particular sort of training might have to wait.
      -[X] However, the execution of the law is itself a test of character as much as a battle might be, he has a choice to make about a conspirator's fate, if he can do that he might yet regain his people's respect.
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    DragonParadox said:
    For what it's worth Bronn is not seriously pursuing the devil who can hunt him down to the ends of the earth and shoot him full of arrows from on high, he prefers his relationships less... daring.



    Yes, that's the warning shot, the arrows come later.
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    To be fair, I think the average Erinyes would also do that if they had a genuine interest. They don't strike me as the sort of people who'd stick around a partner they could easily kill. :V
     
    Oberyn: "Ahah! You were prepared to castrate me, but I have already shapeshifted into a woman!"

    Oberyn: "Truly the best of all possible futures."
     
    Crake said:
    Oberyn: "Ahah! You were prepared to castrate me, but I have already shapeshifted into a woman!"

    Oberyn: "Truly the best of all possible futures."
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    Would he be able to change back, or would the same force that keeps him from having sons try to stop him? If only to slow him down a little.

    Honestly, with the number of different ways he has to avoid aging house sandviper might end up as it's own distinct sub type one day. :V
     
    BronzeTongue said:
    Would he be able to change back, or would the same force that keeps him from having sons try to stop him? If only to slow him down a little.

    Honestly, with the number of different ways he has to avoid aging house sandviper might end up as it's own distinct sub type one day. :V
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    Naw, you don't get Oberyn's MO.

    He's more about quality over quantity, ala Ghengis Khan. More of his kids will be famous than genealogically recurrent.
     
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