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

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DragonParadox said:
they would yes, but learning would take an action.
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That's fine so long as it's available.

Going further, @DragonParadox:
1. What is the progress to learn how to use wards that would be useful in the anti-Efreeti fortress?
2. What is the progress to learn wards that would be useful for our coastline cities and especially the underwater district of Sorcerer's Deep?
3. What price if any would we be expected to pay to allow Lya and our other enchanters to learn these?
 
Duesal said:
That's fine so long as it's available.

Going further, @DragonParadox:
1. What is the progress to learn how to use wards that would be useful in the anti-Efreeti fortress?
2. What is the progress to learn wards that would be useful for our coastline cities and especially the underwater district of Sorcerer's Deep?
3. What price if any would we be expected to pay to allow Lya and our other enchanters to learn these?
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  1. 15 progress
  2. 30 Progress (that will include several types of ward)
  3. 100.000 IM for the first, 80.000 IM for the second
 
[X] Goldfish

I almost want to spread that nickname for the brass sultan IC, just to piss him off.

It'd be especially great if we could blame someone else and get him to start purges in the months leading up to our invasion.

Setting up a believable motive for any of his Vassals would be a pain though
 
MTB said:
One step after the other. We are a red dragon, know for greed. If we start by enriching them, and a defensive alliance, we get a better reputation. And marid perls could be used to finance mercenaries, for example.
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It would be a neat trick if we could convince the general populace of the Plane of Water that the poor reputation of Red Dragons is all a product of Brine Dragon propaganda.
 
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Interlude DCXXIII: Death's Shadow and Life's Embrace
  • Threadmarks
    • Death's Shadow and Life's Embrace ​

    Eighteenth Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC

    Flames crimson and gold danced and crackled, the smell of mutton with herbs and garlic just fit to work up a powerful thirst floated above the camp as men japed and sang, boasted and made grand plans, as sellswords were wont to do when they had just won their way into a fat contract, few understanding that the time of the sellsword was done, the Disputed Lands united, the wars that had borne their banners high now still. A shadow moved at the edge of the feast and as it looked upon the guests it pondered who next it would slay, the Grand Inquisitor considered who would have to die next. He did not fear the light nor blades of steel clasped in hands made sluggish by rich food and and heady drink, he did not fear the law of the land for his purpose here was lawful, to weed out those who would not or could not join the Legion's banners with honor.

    ...a few gulps of tainted wine, a spasm, a florid face turned splotchy purple with the strangler's grip.

    ...shouts from the brothel, a dagger drawn in anger, a careless push and the crunch of breaking bone.

    ...so many gone to 'greener pastures in the east', never to return nor to be heard from again.

    If Garin Drekelis could be said to fear anything that night it was the ease with which men died. Did the Red Viper hesitate as his quill spelled out the names of doomed men onto parchment, or was it just one more distraction between one whore and the next? The young man in the shadow would have wanted to resent the Dornish Prince, but he was too honest with himself to let the feeling bloom. He should sooner hate Viserys for giving him the job, or himself for taking it. He had known the book and sword would glint most often in the shadow and yet he had taken them freely. So now he went over the list and weighed again who could be spared and who must perish. It was time again to hunt.

    A familiar voice, young and with the fading accent of the marshlands about it echoed in his mind. "Get back 'ere! Selyse's almost done!"

    As easily as that the plans of death and deception unraveled like yarn in a cat's claws. What did almost done mean? Births could take hours and this was no ordinary birth. Has something went wrong with so many babes seeking to be born at once? What if the magic had failed in some strange way? Lya wasn't home to explain.

    Even as his mind raced through every reasonable worry, and some he was prepared to admit might have been a touch unreasonable, Garin clutched the Djinn-forged stone in his hand and willed himself home.

    A Rather Mercenary Hostile Takeover Complete

    ***​

    "When did it start? What happened?" he asked as soon as she spotted Vee's head looking out the bedroom door.

    "About ten minutes ago. She said to cut 'er open and spare her the bother," came the response, so startling that Garin did not know how to answer. He had steeled himself for a long wait, even tried to read up a few things in the library on delivering more than one child at a time, though out of his wife's sight so as not to worry her, but now it looked like everything was happening too fast.

    "Well come on in," the girl frowned. "Ma used to say you shouldn't have men in the birthing room, but she couldn't get it done in less time than it takes to boil an egg neither."

    At that he nodded stiffly and walked after her. Selyse was looking worried flushed and from her distant gaze in a some pain, but she smiled at him. "Well, they're finally here, now let's see about getting them out before they outstay their welcome," she japed, clenching her teeth on the last syllable.

    Vee was as good as her word, the Mithril dagger cutting swift and sure even as magic deadened the pain to nothing. Selyse looked a little queasy at the sight, but her smile only grew as her children came into the world one by one with hearty wails and bleary blinking against the light.

    Garin would have like to say he did not smell the blood, that for once he did not feel the deathly hunger. Alas, he still was not a man to lie to himself, it was still there, it would always be there, but it was distant, leashed and bound before the joyful weight in his arms.

    A girl, loudest and most demanding trying to roll over on the table as she was being cleaned up.

    A boy looking at him quizzically.

    Another girl reaching for her mother's warmth.

    As Vee patched Selyse up with a spell, flesh melding together without a mark, she turned to look over at the babes. "Eyes already open and seeing, and they're wiggling around more than usual. Guess all sorts of magic made 'em grow up quicker."

    Though Garin objected to his children being thought of as 'wiggling' he could not otherwise feel any of the worry that had weighed upon him all these months. They were of course perfect and here, safe. For now that was all that mattered.

    OOC: Don't worry about the teleportation stone, that was one Garin bought out of his own money for just this purpose.
     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • DragonParadox said:
    Death's Shadow and Life's Embrace ​

    Eighteenth Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC

    Flames, crimson and gold, danced and crackled, while the smell of mutton, heavy with herbs and garlic fit to work up a powerful thirst, floated above the camp as men japed, sang, boasted, and made grand plans, as sellswords were wont to do when they had just won their way into a fat contract. Few of them understood that the time to the Sellsword was done. With the Disputed Lands united, the wars that had borne their banners high were now still. A shadow moved at the edge of the feast, and as it looked upon the guests it pondered where next it would lay, as the Grand Inquisitor considered who would have to die next. He did not fear the light, nor blades of steel clasped in hands made sluggish by rich food and and heady drink. He did not fear the law of the land, for his purpose here was lawful, to weed out those who would not or could not join the legion's banners with honor.

    ...a few gulps of tainted wine, a spasm, a florid face turned splotchy purple with the strangler's grip.

    ...shouts from the brothel a dagger drawn in anger, a careless push and the crunch of breaking bone.

    ...so many gone to 'greener pastures in the east', never to return not to be heard from again.

    If Garin Drekelis could be said to fear anything that night, it was the ease with which men died. Did the Red Viper hesitate as his quill spelled out the names of doomed men onto parchment, or was it just one more distraction between one whore and the next? The young man in the shadow would have wanted to resent the Dornish Prince, but he was too honest with himself to let the feeling bloom. As soon hate Viserys for giving me the job, or myself for taking it, he thought. He had known the book and sword would glint most often in the shadow, yet he had taken them freely. So now he went over the list and weighed again who could be spared and who must perish. It was time again to hunt.

    A familiar voice, young and with the fading accent of the marshlands about it, echoed in his mind. "Get back 'ere. Selyse's almost done."

    As easily as that, the plans of death and deception unraveled like yarn in a cat's claws. What did 'almost done' mean? Births could take hours, and this was no ordinary birth. What if something went wrong with so many babes seeking to be born at once? What if the magic had failed in some strange way? Lya wasn't home.

    Even as his mind raced through every reasonable worry, and some he was prepared to admit might have been a touch unreasonable, Garin clutched the Djinn-forged stone in his hand and willed himself home.

    A Rather Mercenary Hostile Takeover Complete

    ***​

    "When did it start? What happened?" he asked as soon as she spotted Vee's head looking out the bedroom door.

    "About ten minutes ago. She said to cut 'er open and spare her the bother," came the response, so startling that Garin did not know how to answer. He had steeled himself for a long wait, even tried to read a few things in the library on delivering twins, though out of his wife's sight so as not to worry her, but now it looked like everything was happening too fast.

    "Well, come on in," the girl frowned. "Ma used to say you shouldn't have men in the birthing room, but she couldn't get it done in less time than it takes to boil an egg neither."

    At that he nodded stiffly and walked after her. Selyse was looking worried, flushed, and from her distant gaze, in some pain, but she smiled at him. "Well they're finally here. Now let's see about getting them out before they overstay their welcome," she japed, clenching her teeth on the last syllable.

    Vee was as good as her word, the true silver blade cutting swift and sure even as magic deadened the pain to nothing. Selyse looked a little queasy at the sight, but her smile only grew as her children came into the world one by one, with hearty wails and bleary blinking against the light.

    Garin would have like to say he did not smell the blood, that for once he did not feel the deathly hunger. Alas, he still was not a man to lie to himself. It was still there, and it would always be there, but it was distant, leashed and bound before the joyful weight in his arms.

    A girl, loudest and most demanding, trying to roll over on the table as she was being cleaned up.

    A boy looking at him quizzically.

    Another girl reaching for her mother's warmth.

    As Vee patched Selyse up with a spell, flesh melting together without a mark she turned to look over at the babes. "Eyes already open and seeing, and they're wiggling around more than usual. Guess all sorts of magic can make 'em grow up quicker."

    Although Garin objected to his children being thought of as 'wiggling', he could not otherwise feel any of the worry that had weighed upon him all these months. They were of perfect, of course, and here, safe with their parents. For now, that as all that mattered.

    OOC: Don't worry about the teleportation stone, that was one Garin bought out of his own money for just this purpose. Not yet edited.
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    Here's an edited version of the chapter, DP. It was an unusually quiet lunch hour.

    Well, the triplets are here. Garin, you lucky bastard, Rings of Sustenance are hax. Who needs sleep, right?
     
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