A Sword Without a Hilt: A Song of Ice and Fire/D&D 3.5 Crossover
- Thread starter DragonParadox
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- a song of ice and fire a sword without a hilt d&d 3.5 dungeons & dragons 100% high octane dragon fuel ave corvidae battle action dragon diplomacy best sister bureaucromancy delicious soul-stuff dragon dreams come true dragon ta'veren greatest uncle hubris is a coward's word in defiance of gods and men mammon's folly mutually assured mage's disjunction qm murderhobo top tier coatl
Interlude in beta.
enigma1995
Gentleman Beholder
[X] egoo
[X] egoo
Interlude DCXXXI: Unquiet Passing
Unquiet Passing
Twelfth Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC
Looking down into the ancient barrow there was nothing to see but a long stone corridor lost in the darkness of the deep earth, yet no sooner yet as the four travelers steeped or slithered within the hiss of the wind through dry grass and the creak of branches did not fade with distance and echoes, the sounds cut off as a abruptly as if the stone still warded the passage. The air was stale, though not with the bitter tang of mildew, even such unwholesome slime was after all alive and here only the dead dwelt, the old... and the new.
As Ser Richard stepped out into an intersection, the floating shield before him blocking Rina's view, he cursed under his breath. "Fucking devils' lickspits..." With no more ceremony than that he kicked a corpse in torn and dirty robes out of the way. The flesh was pale, almost translucent like the skin of an onion, but the body showed no other sign of decay. The look frozen upon the bony wrinkled face was one of purest terror. He was facing towards the entrance, the entrance that someone or something must have closed after his death and it had not been his escaping familiar.
"Why is this troubling?" Sal'Niss hissed. "We knew the ink devil's master must have perished here."
"Look at the wounds," Rina pointed at the two gashes in the corpse's back deep enough to uncover bone. "This is no lesser wight's work, biting and gnawing. Whoever killed him used fine steel, or something just as sharp and then it covered the entrance so well that a few months later we had to use magic to find it. We should be on guard..."
Ser Lonmouth took the suggestion a little different from what most would. Black steel descended, almost faster than the eye could follow, and the dead conjuror's head was split from his body as the blade's spellfire started to eat at both.
All too soon the spark of light faded into the distance, leaving only the soft greys of arcane sight to mark the path, the drip of water from some unknown crack far above to echo their steps. Chamber after chamber they passed, the ancient dead still upon their slabs, bronze armor there in the darkness, but to the explorer's eyes and the even more arcane senses of the smith's soul bound in the knight's sword they seemed as unnaturally preserved as the corpse of the conjuror had been, though they had lain here for a full age of the world and more.
It pained Rina to see the bones shattered and the armor scattered after all this time, but not enough that she did not use her mace for the purpose right along with the others, not enough to leave weapons for the Enemy to use at their back. I'll see them burned and the ashes buried with honor once the barrow is cleared, she told herself as the crack of bone sounded in the sepulchral silence again and again...
The roof of the corridor sloped upwards, the walls opening on either side, and it seemed to Rina at least that the darkness grew heavier. "Cold, it makes me sluggish in a fight," the golden-scaled naga proclaimed and only then as they all stopped again did Rina realize what she had been feeling. The cold could not harm her, but They still could, of that she had no doubt.
"I will stay back and use magic," Sal'Niss added with the practicality common to all the children of Yss.
"No need," Rina replied. Her voice growing firmer with each syllable as she wove her stolen power into a ward against cold for each of her companions and pressed blessings of power upon their brows. Yet before the final spell was cast another voice rang out from the endless silence of the barrow.
"Why do you disturb the glorious fallen?"
Rina turned to face the dust dry voice, knowing who it must be from the first word. The words had been in Common, not the Old Tongue of the barrow-makers. A dead man stood before her, yellowed bones leering above battered plate marked with a wrought iron rose brought back from the wars of the Ninepenny Kings. By some twist of the power that gave him the semblance of life matted hair still clung to the skull, though flesh had long since rotted away.
"The dead have long since been disturbed, uncle, and you are among them," Rina replied sadly
"I see no broken bones, no shattered urns, nor scattered grave goods that were not the work of you and those you have brought with you. Tell me, what gives you the right to desecrate these halls? The word of a king? I have seen kings, girl, the mighty and the weak, the good and the wicked, all but bones and ashes in the end. No king may trespass into Death's domain."
Rina opened her mouth to speak, to reason with him maybe, to save him as she had been saved, some small irrational part of her whispered, but in her heart she knew there were no words she could speak here that would turn him aside from the path he had trod before he was even born. "My duty is to the living and the dead. You are neither," she proclaimed as battle was joined with fury and with fire.
OOC: So I thought about doing the combat and then I realized I was almost a thousand words in. There is no way I could have done a second update today if I rolled the battle now, especially since there are quite a few surprises.
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- Location
- Germany
Looking forward to it.
Which buffs did she get out, which ones not?
She did not get to cast Death Ward on Mercy, and Richard.
Goldfish
Friendly Spider-Fish Abomination
- Location
- Formerly of the Far Realm
Richard should be fine with his Soulfire Bracers, but Mercy better be careful.
Goldfish
Friendly Spider-Fish Abomination
- Location
- Formerly of the Far Realm
Rina has had some great character development over the last several months, but it really feels like she is getting comfortable in her own skin throughout this interlude arc.Unquiet Passing
Twelfth Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC
Looking down into the ancient barrow there was nothing to see but a long stone corridor lost in the darkness of the deep earth, yet no sooner yet as the four travelers steeped or slithered within the hiss of the wind through dry grass and the creak of branches did not fade with distance and echoes, the sounds cut off as a abruptly as if the stone still warded the passage. The air was stale, though not with the bitter tang of mildew, even such unwholesome slime was after all alive and here only the dead dwelt, the old... and the new.
As Ser Richard stepped out into an intersection, the floating shield before him blocking Rina's view, he cursed under his breath. "Fucking devils' lickspits..." With no more ceremony than that he kicked a corpse in torn and dirty robes out of the way. The flesh was pale, almost translucent like the skin of an onion, but the body showed no other sign of decay. The look frozen upon the bony wrinkled face was one of purest terror. He was facing towards the entrance, the entrance that someone or something must have closed after his death and it had not been his escaping familiar.
"Why is this troubling?" Sal'Niss hissed. "We knew the ink devil's master must have perished here."
"Look at the wounds," Rina pointed at the two gashes in the corpse's back deep enough to uncover bone. "This is no lesser wight's work, biting and gnawing. Whoever killed him used fine steel, or something just as sharp and then it covered the entrance so well that a few months later we had to use magic to find it. We should be on guard..."
Ser Lonmouth took the suggestion a little different from what most would. Black steel descended, almost faster than the eye could follow, and the dead conjuror's head was split from his body as the blade's spellfire started to eat at both.
All too soon the spark of light faded into the distance, leaving only the soft greys of arcane sight to mark the path, the drip of water from some unknown crack far above to echo their steps. Chamber after chamber they passed, the ancient dead still upon their slabs, bronze armor there in the darkness, but to the explorer's eyes and the even more arcane senses of the smith's soul bound in the knight's sword they seemed as unnaturally preserved as the corpse of the conjuror had been, though they had lain here for a full age of the world and more.
It pained Rina to see the bones shattered and the armor scattered after all this time, but not enough that she did not use her mace for the purpose right along with the others, not enough to leave weapons for the Enemy to use at their back. I'll see them burned and the ashes buried with honor once the barrow is cleared, she told herself as the crack of bone sounded in the sepulchral silence again and again...
The roof of the corridor sloped upwards, the walls opening on either side, and it seemed to Rina at least that the darkness grew heavier. "Cold, it makes me sluggish in a fight," the golden-scaled naga proclaimed and only then as they all stopped again did Rina realize what she had been feeling. The cold could not harm her, but They still could, of that she had no doubt.
"I will stay back and use magic," Sal'Niss added with the practicality common to all the children of Yss.
"No need," Rina replied. Her voice growing firmer with each syllable as she wove her stolen power into a ward against cold for each of her companions and pressed blessings of power upon their brows. Yet before the final spell was cast another voice rang out from the endless silence of the barrow.
"Why do you disturb the glorious fallen?"
Rina turned to face the dust dry voice, knowing who it must be from the first word. The words had been in Common, not the Old Tongue of the barrow-makers. A dead man stood before her, yellowed bones leering above battered plate marked with a wrought iron rose brought back from the wars of the Ninepenny Kings. By some twist of the power that gave him the semblance of life matted hair still clung to the skull, though flesh had long since rotted away.
"The dead have long since been disturbed, uncle, and you are among them," Rina replied sadly
"I see no broken bones, no shattered urns, nor scattered grave goods that were not the work of you and those you have brought with you. Tell me, what gives you the right to desecrate these halls? The word of a king? I have seen kings, girl, the mighty and the weak, the good and the wicked, all but bones and ashes in the end. No king may trespass into Death's domain."
Rina opened her mouth to speak, to reason with him maybe, to save him as she had been saved, some small irrational part of her whispered, but in her heart she knew there were no words she could speak here that would turn him aside from the path he had trod before he was even born. "My duty is to the living and the dead. You are neither," she proclaimed as battle was joined with fury and with fire.
OOC: So I thought about doing the combat and then I realized I was almost a thousand words in. There is no way I could have done a second update today if I rolled the battle now, especially since there are quite a few surprises.
Crake
I AM THE STORM THAT IS APPROACHING
- Location
- USA
@DragonParadox If we had more time, we might have been able to reason with him. From the looks of things his hopes were dashed when he realized he had been born in an age of the feeble and treacherous, rather than the glorious and heroic. We're definitely a King of both in ample amounts, and have the credentials to prove it. He doesn't seem void-tainted, more just bitter and jaded.
Indeed, if this had been Viserys that is where I would have put in a vote to talk or fight on the other hand something has to have raised him and it is getting cold in the barrow. That is generally not a herald of good things
Crake
I AM THE STORM THAT IS APPROACHING
- Location
- USA
Rina was inarguably waaay more far gone, though, and the specter of death can be washed away by hope brought by new life.
Rina was fighting against what she felt as chains tightening around her soul with every moment, she knows what that felt like from the inside. Her uncle does not seem to be fighting anything. Also she does not feel equipped to perform ad hoc mid-combat rituals even if he were inclined to betray the Others.
On the other hand she would not be opposed to killing him then trying for a resurrection, though it would put her father in a delicate position inheritance-wise so probably only at his request.
Goldfish
Friendly Spider-Fish Abomination
- Location
- Formerly of the Far Realm
IIRC, Rina was basically being puppeted by the Others, wasn't she? It seemed like she was a prisoner in her own corpse.
IIRC, Rina drowned in the dark and cold. The Others took the guise of the Crone and, in Rina's dying moments, offered her a second chance at 'life.' Rina willingly turned her soul over to the Others, allowing them to bind her soul to her undead corpse and create a particularly powerful thrall. Rina realized she was basically stuck in a fate worse than death, but since she technically agreed to it her struggles were useless. When we resurrected Rina we were severing the Others' connection to her body so it could be restored to life and her soul returned control. Rina's soul never strayed far from her corporeal body.
That doesn't seem to be possible here. First of all, there is no indication that this wright has anything more than the memories of life. The man himself is long dead, his soul departed the Material Plane. A resurrection ritual would involve destroying the undeath that has infested the body, reaching for the soul residing elsewhere, and returning Rina's uncle to true life.
I mean, I hope that is how it works. It would ten kinds of fucked up if every undead to be recruited to the Others' army was created through a false-resurrection ritual that drags the actual soul back to the Material Plane then enslaves it to the Others' will.
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Sentient undead either have their souls or (in the case of incorporeal ones) are souls.
Vote closed.
Last edited:
- Location
- Germany
I think you mean either.
I do indeed, sorry for the confusion and the typo.
- Location
- United States
Excellent. They're worth more for sacrifices or experiments this way.