Remove ads

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

Reader mode
Crake said:
--[X] Aenie - Dreamscaping: The realm of dreams is an odd thing, shaped by the minds of mortals and shaping them in return, though some beings such as Yss have shown you that it can be altered in more direct ways. You will need to learn about such shaping before you can hope to leverage the dreamscape for your grand work.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...

This has been voted, and I just realized that I don't know something.

Who is Aenie?
 
Tomcost said:
This has been voted, and I just realized that I don't know something.

Who is Aenie?
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
Saenna Caleris' daughter we recovered during our trip to Valyria.
We haven't had much interaction, but she's been described as an expert on Dreamlands, so... well, there was she assigned.
 
egoo said:
Saenna Caleris' daughter we recovered during our trip to Valyria.
We haven't had much interaction, but she's been described as an expert on Dreamlands, so... well, there was she assigned.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...

Oh, didn't know how she was called.

By the way, what happened with that outsider we freed in Heaven's Shore among other purchases and then left off to think? I can't remember what he was.
 
Tomcost said:
Right.

This has become so immense that I can't keep up with everything
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
*quietly adds the Azata and our super-old-once-Lich-ancestor cleric of Syrax to MAs of next month*
About time we talked to them and assigned somewhere...

For real though, lists are apparently the only way to keep up with stuff nowadays.
And even then stuff slips through too often :/
 
@egoo Laenor is going into retirement. Understandably though. If I had gone through the Doom, I'd want to retire too. Though Viserys suspects anyone with the Targaryen genes won't keep out of the game for long.

Nothing wrong with talking to him though. He probably has interesting stories.
 
Crake said:
@egoo Laenor is going into retirement. Understandably though. If I had gone through the Doom, I'd want to retire too. Though Viserys suspects anyone with the Targaryen genes won't keep out of the game for long.

Nothing wrong with talking to him though. He probably has interesting stories.
Click to expand...
Click to shrink...
Eh, I think he won't mind teaching in Scholarum at the very least.
Fairly comfy position for an old man :V

...also, thx for reminding his name.
I've already started seraching it by looking up the RA used to de-lich him, and starting to threadsearch :V
 
Remove ads
Interlude DCXX: An Unlikely Escape
  • Threadmarks
    • An Unlikely Escape​

    Fifth Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC

    The sound of stamping feet passed up and down the stands like a living wave, the screams of the dying echoing from below mingling with the angry bellows of beasts. If only the wretched sun did not beat down so hot and the humans bathed more often than twice a moon-turn and did not try to cover the stink with rancid 'perfume', Morwyn might have enjoyed the spectacle more. Horned beasts starved and whipped to blood madness faced slaves and criminals armed with rope, steel and fire, each weapon seemingly designed to drive the beasts to greater heights of savagery rather than bring the proceedings to an overly abrupt end. A pity the humans were so much more fragile. There is something to be said for the symbolism of giving them no more armor than the beasts, the assassin supposed, but it seemed foolish to squander the lives of trained fighters with such little fanfare. Then again, if Tuin was to be believed the waste was the point, a show of wealth, of power. Cretins, victories showed power, craft showed power, not a willingness to toss silver down a chasm...


    Even as the assassin pondered the follies of his unwitting hosts he moved through the crowd, on the pretense of getting a better look, drawing ever closer to the one whose presence here had drawn the eye of the dragon-mage, for he much wished to know what a lord of one of the richest Houses in the city might wish to see at one of the least prestigious of its fighting pits.

    Shagaz zo Loraq appeared particularly ridiculous, even by the broad standards of absurdity Morwyn had grown used to since his awakening in this age of mortals. His greying hair had been worked into the shape of 'wings' with oil and more of that insufferable perfume, Harpy's Gold they called it, and it was in the shape of those beasts that the hair of the 'patriarch' of House Loraq was supposed to be set in. The man seemed more like he had grown two mold covered horns from his temples. Careful now, even the foolish Ettin can snare you if you walk into its lair without watching for traps, he reminded himself, and it was well that that he had done so.

    One of the shaven-headed guards, a giant of a man covered head to toe in jagged scars and bearing a twisted horn bound in red gold, looked out over the crowd, eyes suddenly narrowing as they rested upon the veiled Drow. Morwyn did not stop to think on how he could have been discovered, he stepped back on sheer instinct behind an old woman garishly dressed, her skin stained with the cheap indigo dye of her robes. Yet before he could make good his escape a gnarled hand grasped at his wrist. "Well well, what have we here... stay a while dearie," the crone whispered, the sound all but lost under the roar of the crowd and the sound of snapping ribs. Her fingers held him like bars of iron, yet the assassin had one more trick to play before drawing steel and spilling blood. Striking his heels together he allowed the enchantment bound into the silver to carry him two rungs higher in the stands.

    Anyone trying to follow him on foot would have to push their way through the crowd to the steps, unless they were willing to cut themselves a path, but even then the corpses would slow them...

    "How did you do that?" a small voice squeaked besides him.

    The Drow warrior glanced down to see a girl hiding beneath the bench he had materialized in front of. He briefly considered killing her to hide his trail, but concluded that her death would reveal more than she could tell so he dismissed her from his mind. She would not be so easily dismissed however: "Are you hiding from Shit-Grass, too?"

    It took the Drow a moment to realize the crude word play. Shagaz, Shit-Grass... Taking a closer look he realized she wore a fine purple tokar fringed with amethysts and pearls. Beneath the dirt she had managed to smear on herself hiding there the girl looked as ill-fitting in these stands as the elderly Shaqaz. "You were brought here to meet with him?" he asked slowly. If he dare not get close enough to his primary target to listen in on the conversation than he might as well bring back something or someone of note.

    "Uh-ah," the girl nodded unwillingly. Then in a smaller voice wavering slightly with fear: "Don't want to."

    That made things easier. Morwyn smiled charmingly as he swung his magic bag around and opened the larger of the compartments, thankfully empty. "Well then it's your lucky day," he said, conjuring heatless flame around the rim of the bag. "This is a magical portal that will take you far from here and you will not have to see 'Shit Grass ever again'."

    "Is it really?" the child asked dubiously. "There doesn't seem to be anything there."

    Sighing slightly at having found not only a clever mortal, but one so young, the assassin replied. "It's a magic bag that will let me carry you out of here without being spotted."

    The girl considered the offer for a long moment before surprisingly saying: "My name is Jezhene Pahl, what's yours?"

    The mortal mask he had crafted to come here today would have been particularly absurd to affect under the circumstances: "Morwyn," the Drow said at last.

    Without another word the Jezhene jumped into the bag and Morwyn made his way into the streets, hoping the dragon-mage would find some use for her.

    OOC: Poor Morwyn had some very poor rolls to start out, but he managed to squeak by without a fight and he'll even have something to bring to Malarys like the proverbial cat.
     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • Morwyn: "So I could not get close to the perfumed idiot."

    Malarys: "Given the smug look on your face..."

    Morwyn: "?"

    Malarys: "The more-so smug than usual look. I expect you found something worth returning so soon."

    Morwyn: "Well if you don't want the idiot's betrothed brought before you..."

    Miss Pahl peeps out from behind the dark elf: "You're Valyrian!"

    Malarys: "...how?"

    Morwyn: "I'm just that good."
     
    That was cute! Even for the serial killer drow! Don't worry Morwyn, you will eventually grow to like the human meatsacks. Some are really cute!
     
    Massgamer said:
    Must be hurting Morwyn's pride about getting spotted like that.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    I wonder what gave it away? His appearance and all of the magic auras from his gear would have been masked by his Greater Ribbon of Disguise. Must have been something like Discern Shapechanger, which isn't a bad precaution to take.
     
    Goldfish said:
    I wonder what gave it away? His appearance and all of the magic auras from his gear would have been masked by his Greater Ribbon of Disguise. Must have been something like Discern Shapechanger, which isn't a bad precaution to take.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Alter Self only helps with the disguise, he still could have looked suspicious while moving closer to the boss there, or a similar mundane mistake.
     
    Artemis1992 said:
    Alter Self only helps with the disguise, he still could have looked suspicious while moving closer to the boss there, or a similar mundane mistake.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...

    Could have also been True Sight. Which as far as I'm aware can only be countered by Cloak of Khyber.

    But he shouldn't have been close enough for that to work from the bodyguard's end--so probably a mundane mistake. However, the crone in the crowd was probably a fiend who did have True Sight. Which is basically where you would want to place those fiends using it--spread out around the crowd and angling to intercept when they catch something.

    There were a lot of coincidences in this chapter. Like Morwyn translocating just so and locating Shit-Grass' betrothed and her hiding spot, in a stadium likely housing thousands?

    Honestly I'd be checking her for tracker curses or arcane markings or something.
     
    lockingbane said:
    Now i am remembering how the kittens i am fostering brought me a dead grasshopper and looked so proud about it.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Hmm, that does sound pretty spot on. Drow are probably about as inherently evil as the average house cat.
    Crake said:
    @egoo Laenor is going into retirement. Understandably though. If I had gone through the Doom, I'd want to retire too. Though Viserys suspects anyone with the Targaryen genes won't keep out of the game for long.

    Nothing wrong with talking to him though. He probably has interesting stories.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Oh, that could be a neat job for a living relic like Laenor.

    Laenor: "Back in my day, the slaves had to walk barefoot in the snow, uphill both ways of course, carrying my litter to school."

    Students: "..."
     
    Crake said:
    Could have also been True Sight. Which as far as I'm aware can only be countered by Cloak of Khyber.

    But he shouldn't have been close enough for that to work from the bodyguard's end--so probably a mundane mistake. However, the crone in the crowd was probably a fiend who did have True Sight. Which is basically where you would want to place those fiends using it--spread out around the crowd and angling to intercept when they catch something.

    There were a lot of coincidences in this chapter. Like Morwyn translocating just so and locating Shit-Grass' betrothed and her hiding spot, in a stadium likely housing thousands?

    Honestly I'd be checking her for tracker curses or arcane markings or something.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    True Seeing makes sense, but only if the bodyguard possesses it innately. An item of constant True Seeing is ridiculously expensive and the spell duration isn't very long. Could definitely be a disguised Devil.
     
    Almost definitely a disguised devil--Loraq is a fool, doesn't he realize he's not hiding his allegiance very well from us? :V

    Anyway, Malarys is probably smart enough to check the girl for trackers or curses.
     
    DragonParadox said:
    An Unlikely Escape​

    Fifth Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC

    The sound of stamping feet passed up and down the stands like a living wave, the screams of the dying echoing from below mingling with the angry bellows of beasts. If only the wretched sun did not beat down so hot and the humans bathed more often than twice a moon-turn and did not try to cover the stink with rancid 'perfume', Morwyn might have enjoyed the spectacle more. Horned beasts starved and wiped to blood madness faced slaves and criminals armed with rope, steel and fire, each weapon seemingly designed to drive the beasts to greater heights of savagery rather than bring the proceedings to an overly abrupt end. A pity the humans were so much more fragile. There is something to be said for the symbolism of giving them no more armor than the beasts, the assassin supposed, but it seemed foolish to squander the lives of trained fighters with such little fanfare. Then again, if Tuin was to be believed the waste was the point, a show of wealth, of power. Cretins, victories showed power, craft showed power, not a willingness to toss silver down a chasm...


    Even as the assassin pondered the follies of his unwitting hosts he moved through the crowd, on the pretense of getting a better look, drawing ever closer to the one whose presence here had drawn the eye of the dragon-mage, for he much wished to know what a lord of one of the richest Houses in the city might wish to see at one of the least prestigious of its fighting pits.

    Shagaz zo Loraq appeared particularly ridiculous, even by the broad standards of absurdity Morwyn had grown used to since his awakening in this age of mortals. His greying hair had been worked into the shape of 'wings' with oil and more of that insufferable perfume, Harpy's Gold they called it, and it was in the shape of those beasts that the hair of the 'patriarch' of House Loraq was supposed to be set in. The man seemed more like he had grown two mold covered horns from his temples. Careful now, even the foolish ettin can snare you if you walk into its lair without watching for traps, he reminded himself and it was well that that he had done so.

    One of the shaven-headed guards, a giant of a man covered head to toe in jagged scars and bearing a twisted horn bound in red gold, looked out over the crowd, eyes suddenly narrowing as they rested upon the veiled drow. Morwyn did not stop to think on how he could have been discovered, he stepped back on sheer instinct behind an old woman garishly dressed, her skin stained with the cheap indigo dye of her robes. Yet before he could make good his escape a gnarled hand grasped at his wrist. "Well well, what have we here... stay a while dearie," the crone whispered, the sound all but lost under the roar of the crowd and the sound of snapping ribs. Her fingers held him like bars of iron, yet the assassin had one more trick to play before drawing steel and spilling blood. Striking his heels together he allowed the enchantment bound into the silver to carry him two rungs higher in the stands.

    Anyone trying to follow him on foot would have to push their way through the crowd to the steps, unless they were willing to cut themselves a path, but even then the corpses would slow them...

    "How did you do that?" a small voice squeaked besides him.

    The drow warrior glanced down to see a girl hiding beneath the bench he had materialized in front of. He briefly considered killing her to hide his trail, but concluded that her death would reveal more than she could tell so he dismissed her from his mind. She would not be so easily dismissed however: "Are you hiding from Shit-Grass too?"

    It took the drow a moment to realize the crude word play. Shagaz, Shit-Grass... Taking a closer look he realized she wore a fine purple tokar fringed with amethysts and pearls. Beneath the dirt she had managed to smear on herself hiding there the girl looked as ill-fitting in these stands as the elderly Shaqaz. "You were brought here to meet with him?" he asked slowly. If he dare not get close enough to his primary target to listen in on the conversation than he might as well bring back something or someone of note.

    "Uh-ah," the girl nodded unwillingly. Then in a smaller voice wavering slightly with fear: "Don't want to."

    That made things easier. Morwyn smiled charmingly as he swung his magic bag around and opened the larger of the compartments, thankfully empty. "Well then it's your lucky day," he said, conjuring heatless flame around the rim of the bag. "This is a magical portal that will take you far from here and you will not have to see 'Shit Grass ever again'."

    "Is it really?" the child asked dubiously. "There doesn't seem to be anything there."

    Sighing slightly at having found not only a clever mortal, but one so young, the assassin replied. "It's a magic bag that will let me carry you out of here without being spotted."

    The girl considered the offer for a long moment before surprisingly saying: "My name is Jezhene Pahl, what's yours?"

    The mortal mask he had crafted to come here today would have been particularly absurd to affect under the circumstances: "Morwyn," the drow said at last.

    Without another word the Jezhene jumped into the bag and Morwyn made his way into the streets, hoping the dragon-mage would find some use for her.

    OOC: Poor Morwyn had some very poor rolls to start out, but he managed to squeak by without a fight and he'll even have something to bring to Malarys like the proverbial cat.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    I think we might have set Morwyn's expectations for human civilization a bit too high by introducing him to Sorcerer's Deep first. It's clean, lawful, and possesses all sorts of "modern" amenities as a product of magic and technological innovation. Probably not too far off from what he was used to among his own people, though with a lower chance of being stabbed, poisoned, or tortured to death.

    Then we send him out into the world of Planetos, which is just shy of being a medieval hellhole in the better places.

    Poor guy.
     
    His expectations for human civilization are nil. He rationalizes our progress by our being a dragon, dragging mortals out of the muck for some unfathomable reason.
     
    Reader mode
    You must login or register to reply here.
    Remove ads
    Back
    Top