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

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Can you give us a character sheet for Baelish? Just some classes he had to see how good/bad he was.

EDIT: Hah, I can almost hear Magus theme when Bloodraven talked about blood winds.
 
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Well time for 'Varys' to report Baelish's body to everyone. Scouts on the coasts, some political troubles and not a member of the Small Council dead. Interesting times for Kingslanding. Robert is in a mood already can only imagine it now.
 
CandyCoatedChaos said:
The best part... Littlefinger, Bobbity B, Cersei and Jamie... All of them are like background kills like you know you guys are small potatoes. We can't be assed to be personally involved just die. Very very satisfying.
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To be fair, it was likely always going to end up this way. There's virtually no benefit to grandstanding or getting personally involved. Delegating their deaths was likely to always be in the cards the minute we decided to focus on Essos over Westeros.

If we had started a native insurrection instead of conquering the east, we might have gotten involved just for the catharsis of killing people who were likely attempting to kill us repeatedly, but at this point they're beneath our notice beyond what they represent.
 
Once news of Baelish's death gets to Lysa.....yeah she's gonna lose it. Gets very desperate, revenge and stop the people after her kid.
 
DragonParadox said:
The Mockingbird Flies ​

Fourth Day of the Third Month

The One in the puppet of false flesh and arcane weapons could think of himself as Bloodraven here, not quite Brynden. Of course, the dream was all around him. It whispered and it called, a thousand voices strong, a hundred shards of consciousness springing forth to answer them. But in this place, in this time, he was Master of Whispers, the traitor so many had imagined him to be in his youth, but to a traitor's council bound. The scales were balanced. Speaking of scales...

He approached Baelish on silent feet, clearing his throat to draw his attention. The Master of Coin still started and turned and whirled around, his hand going the glittering piece of tiger's-eye at his belt which Bloodraven knew to be a translocation charm. The disquiet in grey-green eyes vanished quickly with recognition. "How the fuck are you so quiet, Varys?"

"They do call me a spider, my lord," the Master of Whsipers replied. He had not been trying to be quiet. Perhaps it was that part of him could sense what Bloodraven had in mind. In his long life, Bloodraven had found that even the most prosaic of people often had a glimmer of a premonition when the end approached. A pity for Baelish he could not understand what he had sensed.

A pity...

"My little birds have just come flocking from points east with news that would be best shared between the two of us... for the sake of clarity in the Small Council. Especially given the king's mood of late..." The words were smooth, practiced, a fisherman's line cast on familiar waters.

Bloodraven knew that even among those who served with him at court long ago, few would guess he was even capable of pity, yet so it was. He did pity Petyr Baelish even as he lead him to his doom. Oh, not the man he was now, bitter, proud, and so convinced of his own 'righteousness' that he would burn the world to ash to win a game only he could see, and against a man already dead at that. Bloodraven regretted the quick witted boy growing up in Riverun, the young man who had gone to stew in his own misery in his 'keep' among the Fingers.

He had looked, of course. Empty curiosity had been one of his few remaining vices as his body lay alone in the dark. He had spotted the inflection points that could have made Baelish useful, even content, that could have turned that brilliant mind to something other than boiling spite, climbing the ladder of power less from the desire to be on top as to hear the groans of those he trod upon. The past was a closed book even to him.

The cold wind over the battlements blew away his regrets. He had established this place to speak privately, 'where there were no corners to stoop around' months ago. Patience baited the best hooks.

"It will be dragons in the sky before the week is out, then dragons on banners of keen-sighted lords and dragons on thrones, no matter where the hammer might fall."

For a long moment Baelish looked at him in shock. He had all but admitted treason, no doubt he counted that a coup of his own. To cover his expression he asked. "When did you become a poet, Varys?"

"When was I not? For is it not the skill of men like us to say one thing and mean three others." He laughed, the sound clear and sharp in the morning air.

"So we hoard knowledge and dole it out like misers," Littlefinger offered with a knowing smile, trying to be flattering. "The only real power there is, knowledge I mean. Heavier than sword-strokes, more deadly than spells."

"Spells are also born of knowledge, for some at least. You have been paying some attention to Ser Kevan, I hope?" Bloodraven asked archly.

"Knowledge of the world isn't real power." Baelish motioned over the city, in all its dreary sprawl. "How many spells do you know of that can cover all this? How about all the Crownlands? All the Seven Kingdoms? No, power, real power, lies in knowledge of people who wield it, because it lies where men think it does, be that with princes, dragons, or gods. None of it is real, just what you expect, what you hope, what you fear. Pull the right strings and the world is yours, and you will be thanked for taking it off the hands of whoever handed it to you."

Bloodraven nodded placidly. The wand in his hand turned unseen before he had come up here. A smooth swish, the feeling of magic fading from the token, then going down the list, boots that could cling to stone, a talisman of contingent flight. "Plays should have rules, Petyr, otherwise there's just... chaos."

On the last word Bloodraven slammed into Baelish without warning, pushing him over the edge, with a scream half of terror and half of sheer surprise. To Boodraven's surprise, he was chanting an actual spell on the way down. Not a strong one, but enough to save his life. The Last Greenseer reached out through the flesh puppet and snuffed out all magic around the falling man like a candle.

Littlefinger looked like a broken puppet on the rocks below.

Ignoring the pain from forcing magic though a body not meant for it, Bloodraven returned to the keep and the last days of his 'duty' to Robert Baratheon.

OOC: I hope the idea of Littlefinger having a little magic worked, it just felt in character for him to dabble a little and be unable to trust his safety entirely to enchantments. Not yet edited.
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Here's an edited version of the chapter, DP.

That was very satisfying, especially the "broken puppet" line. :evil:
 
@DragonParadox minor point of contention--does Varys have the opportunity to take Baelish's various enterprises around the city in hand? If nothing else than to shore up Inquisition assets, but also because the deplorable state of his brothels are so bad that they really deserve immediate help and maybe some healers quietly smuggled in.
 
Ah, this was cathartic.

It is really too bad the man couldn't have been put to use alive.
He wasn't an absolute idiot, just... Far too 'Chaotic' for his own good, I suppose.

Had he pulled Pycelle, with no holds barred from the get-go, he might've ended up in a rather different position, our OOC knowledge or no.
 
Crake said:
@DragonParadox minor point of contention--does Varys have the opportunity to take Baelish's various enterprises around the city in hand? If nothing else than to shore up Inquisition assets, but also because the deplorable state of his brothels are so bad that they really deserve immediate help and maybe some healers quietly smuggled in.
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Unfortunately not, too many other irons in the fire with the conquest. You guys can just confiscate them when you take KL.
 
... Did we ever do anything about the fey deadman switch binding thing to those lords, or is nuking them going to implode the heads of half the nobles in the Reach?
 
BronzeTongue said:
... Did we ever do anything about the fey deadman switch binding thing to those lords, or is nuking them going to implode the heads of half the nobles in the Reach?
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Is half the nobles losing their heads really that bad? I mean what if Mace Tyrell were to lose his head, the Reach would automatically be considered a better place to live.


Crake said:
It's targeted at the Fey nobility, not existing Fey pacts.
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.....Can we blow off Mace Tyrells head and claim it was the fey pacts? Asking for a friend...
 
CandyCoatedChaos said:
Is half the nobles losing their heads really that bad? I mean what if Mace Tyrell were to lose his head, the Reach would automatically be considered a better place to live.




.....Can we blow off Mace Tyrells head and claim it was the fey pacts? Asking for a friend...
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Amateur hour, how about we drop him off in the middle of the feywyld and leave him there? That would be hilarious, and we'd never even hear from him again since there's literally no way he could save himself since he's so incompetent.
 
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