Dreamer's Guile
Second Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC
You cannot help but wonder if Ymeri had chose the one to usher her Herald into the world based on some strange affinity. The conditions of the binding are of an almost fey-like nature, which is to say as frustrating to navigate as a maze made of thorn bushes. What would N'Gath even do while you take to the streets of Volantis to seek out an heir to the dead magister, explain the binding, and convincing him of the necessity of undoing it? Worse still, if you took the easy path and return the unwitting architect of Volantis' woes to life. Quite apart from what Zherys, Teana or Bennero might think, you shudder to imagine the result if it were to be publicly known. Those resentful at the annexation would be only too happy at the chance to proclaim that you orchestrated the Day of Flame, nevermind that you and Dany were struggling to survive on the streets of Braavos at the time.
What worth this mortal's paltry workings against a dragon's will? Varys hisses in your ear.
Shatter them by the strength of your sorcery, and let us see the mettle of this spirit that scurries through the walls as a rat.
It does have a certain appeal to it, you must agree, though on the other side of the scales it is the same appeal of facing Mammon in battle for the right to hold Mereth's oath. You turn to the others to converse by your familiar's silent voice, weighing one risk against another to see how your foe might be slain.
In the end, Bennero and Rina advise to restore Magister Tagar, giving him the chance to make amends for his sins. Zherys and Teana are agreed that it would be best to contest the bindings with sorcery, while Ser Richard, not unsurprisingly, suggests anything but the latter option. Perhaps he, too had made the connection to summoning Mammon. The small smile fades quickly from your lips as quickly as it had come. He has a point about the dangers of wild magic, not to yourself or your Companions, but to the city itself. This is not some barrow in the Far North, or a temple lost in the jungles of Sothoryos, but one of the most populous cities in all of Essos.
You close your eyes with a sigh of frustration, but then turn your thoughts to the dream hovering ever at the edge of your perception, the whispered lore of all wyrms that had come before.
How do you bring to battle that which is in brick and mortar snared?
The answer, you discover, is not merely of the deep dreams but
Dreaming itself. Long ago, before even the Sundering, there dwelt a dragon sage who sought to tangle the insight of his rivals, to give false counsel, and drive them all to ruin. His work was never finished, for he had made too many foes too swiftly, but still that which he knew he dreamed, and now you
remember.
"I know of a way to get at the enemy without damaging its bindings," you send across the ether.
"Some of us will have to remain here, however, to guard the bodies of those who are to face the Herald."
"Astral projection?" Zherys asks, intrigued enough to have grown impatient with echoing his thoughts through Varys.
"It does not seem to me that the wards here cross the borders of the material sphere?"
"Not quite, but similar in execution," you reply. turning to Ser Richard, you add,
"I could find no more worthy a protector than you, Ser."
The knight nods quickly, ever dutiful, though you can also read the pride in his gaze at the words.
"Holy Bennero, I ask that you would turn R'hllor's light to ensuring our passage stays undisturbed," you add.
With a gesture that is closer to a bow than a nod, the mage-priest steps closer to the knight, carefully examining him, you suspect to measure the enchantments he bears. He briefly lays a hand upon the steel breastplate and whispers a benediction of
true sight. "More long lasting than the enchantment your earring can provide."
Other blessings are cast, other wards
enforced, then you Zherys, Teana, and Rina approach the far well as you call to mind the words of that long wrought spell, the twisting syllables as familiar upon the tongue as the bedside tales you heard as a child.
Your souls sink through the wards like a blade through hot wax, N'Gath's curses booming around you. The betrayer obviously surprised by treachery.
What shape do you give the Mindscape?
[] An underwater battleground, utterly alien to the creatures of fire.
[] The Circle of Battle, in an attempt to use the fey's tale bound nature against it.
[] A Dragonstone Labyrinth using your skill at architecture to befuddle and ambush the foe.
[] Write in
OOC: Here we are, we are not in battle yet, but I figgured it was worth exploring the character dynamics as well as where Viserys might have gotten the spell which he has never used or seen before. Not yet edited.