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

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One thing I would like to emphasize again is that your military bases are only partially covered right now. I know we have not had any sort of major planar incursions in your lands so far, but with an actual system in place and the means to defend yourselves well the Brazen Throne is going to act in its own interest with the resources to hand. A partially warded base is a hell of a target and one they can hit and run with arch mages before you can mobilize any sort of assets to push them back.
 
DragonParadox said:
One thing I would like to emphasize again is that your military bases are only partially covered right now. I know we have not had any sort of major planar incursions in your lands so far, but with an actual system in place and the means to defend yourselves well the Brazen Throne is going to act in its own interest with the resources to hand. A partially warded base is a hell of a target and one they can hit and run with arch mages before you can mobilize any sort of assets to push them back.
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We can't cover everything right now.
Even if the Genies give us the means to produce more stones right at the start of the turn we have no time to secure all bases and cities.
Particularly the latter will be tempting targets, dealing effectivly more damage to us than our just-build bases would.
 
DragonParadox said:
Weapons for the Dawn: Ever since you laid eyes upon Mournblade, you saw visions of an army garbed in vestments of light and bearing in their hearts not only mortal defiance but a hope for the Dawn to come. But hopes will not help them battle the Void alone, and it should be They who fear them when the time comes. You will not let your people lay down and die at the last, and this is the testament of that duty you all bear
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Just to be excruciatingly clear, this action refers to the spell I wrote up, since once again the research action fails to link directly to the post with its effects.
 
Goldfish said:
Legion of Light
Transmutation
Level: Shaman 9, Sorcerer/Wizard 9
Components: V, S, DF
Casting Time: 1 standard action
Range: Long (400 ft. + 40 ft./level)
Target: Weapons carried by allies
Duration: 1 hour/level
Saving Throw: Will negates (harmless, object)
Spell Resistance: Yes (harmless, object)

You imbue all manufactured weapons carried by allies within range with the conceptual properties of the morning sun, granting each weapon a +1 enhancement bonus on attack rolls and damage rolls, as well as the Void Bane property, conferring an additional +4 enhancement bonus to attack rolls and damage rolls versus creatures and objects tainted by the influence of the Void as well as +4d6 damage.

Mythic: Each weapon glows brightly enough to see by within a 60-foot radius: bright light to 30 feet and dim light in another 30 feet. Creatures with light sensitivity take twice the usual penalty when they are within 30 feet of the object. The arms of this legion brought into an area of magical darkness (or vice versa) is temporarily negated, so that the otherwise prevailing light conditions exist in the overlapping areas of effect. Dawn's light counters or dispels any darkness spell or magical effect, excepting Utterdark.
  • Augment (3rd Tier): You can expend two uses of Mythic power to have the properties above fully mirror Celestial Brilliance in effect, including the radius and the damage it deals, and creatures tainted by the influence of the Void are additionally treated as if they had light sensitivity in the presence of this corona of Dawn's light.
  • Augment (9th Tier): By expending nine uses of Mythic Power, this corona of dawn's light playing across the arms of the Legion also acts as per the spell Blinding Glory as far as its range extends, but only against creatures and objects tainted by the touch of the Void. It cannot be negated or dispelled by Utterdark, Mythic variant or otherwise.
If anyone with Legion of Light in effect upon their equipment falters by a non-magical means, both Mythic effects will immediately end for them, and they cannot be replicated again on that creature for a day and night. Magical fear effects will interrupt this effect only so long as it has a hold on the weapon's bearer.
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For reference.
 
Artemis1992 said:
So no vote for attacking needed right now?
Good.

@Goldfish
Here's my outline for the next vote after the big turnvote then:
[] Eldritch Exterminators - Call us if you have outer gods in your basement
-[] Bring the 2nd, 5th 14th Legion to Qohor by the Demiplane-Gate transport. They will occupy first the center of goverment and the major gates of the city, then work their way inwards.
--[] Strict orders to keep their distance from any non-hostiles there, we have no idea who is or isn't a timebomb of madness or eldritch power, so they will take and hold the mentioned positions and warn off any people under threat of violence from coming to them
--[] Use Major Image to give loud and obvious orders to every citizen to remain calm and stay in their houses
--[] The 2nd Air Wing will be out in force and in contact with the generals on the ground to support them by striking at hard targets and disperse attempts at organising a coutnerattack
-[] Adventurer Team A, consisting of Viserys, Richard, Vee, Malarys and Lady Saenena, with Qyburn (as support for issues with the Forge, not as primary combatant) will take whatever Black Knights we can spare and enter the Fleshforge to secure it
-[] The 1st Battlegroup and the IMF Moonchaser will fly out and bombard the nearby forest with Alchemist's Fire and if we have any to spare Wildfire as well, as soon as they are well out of reach of the city. Lya will be onboard and use Control Weather to ensure that strong, dry winds fan the flames outwards from Qohor, as well as use Control Winds if there are spots resistant to catching fire
--[] Any places found that are too far removed from the laws of reality to properly burn this way will be noted and quickly investigated by adventurers to prevent any eldritch counter-attacks on Qohor from outside. The exact composition of these adventurer teams will be determined after we have an idea how many spots we'll have to attack.

The latter is important, since I'm pretty sure that we can't just blast the parts where the forest goes over into corrupted Feywild-paths. Even if they don't lead to the Far Realm or anything quite that bad, they are still dimensional fuckery that we need to deal with personally.
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Thanks, dude. Good to have this ready to go when needed. Only thing I see that needs clarification is the part about Lya using Control Weather. The Moonchaser can do that on its own, but it wouldn't hurt to have one of Lya's bodies there for support.
Crake said:
For reference.
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I've added a link to the spell to go along with the action in my plan.

I believe the plan is finalized, barring any further suggestions ya'll might have.
 
Goldfish said:
Thanks, dude. Good to have this ready to go when needed. Only thing I see that needs clarification is the part about Lya using Control Weather. The Moonchaser can do that on its own, but it wouldn't hurt to have one of Lya's bodies there for support.

I've added a link to the spell to go along with the action in my plan.

I believe the plan is finalized, barring any further suggestions ya'll might have.
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Have we reorganized the wards to cover the bases yet? DP and Azel's repeated reminders basically guarantees retaliatory strikes.
 
Goldfish said:
As best we can. There just aren't enough of them to go around, and too many places to cover.
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I think the biggest thing is that military bases being vulnerable is pretty much a guarantee of a strike, so at a bare minimum we need to focus Mirror House divinations on there to foresee mass death as well as potentially station an archmage or two nearby. I don't want to show up to a nuked fortress and have to build it up again.
 
I hate to say this but for the ward problem the solution i propose is to exchage the 5th and 10th tier wardstones of few of our cities with our underwarded bases
 
Goldfish said:
Thanks, dude. Good to have this ready to go when needed. Only thing I see that needs clarification is the part about Lya using Control Weather. The Moonchaser can do that on its own, but it wouldn't hurt to have one of Lya's bodies there for suppor
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Higher CL might matter, or possibly not.

Also quick access to Control Winds and Quench is nice.

Playing with that much fire is dangerous, so I want the best person on the job, in case we need to redirect the whole front of flames away from some settlements or lumber camps on short notice.
 
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Interlude MCCXVIII: The Work of Gods and Men
  • Threadmarks

    • The Work of Gods and Men ​

    First Day of the Tenth Month 294 AC

    There existed within the halls of academia in the crown city a sort of romantic cachet for the North and all things northern, a sort of counter-movement to the Valyrian exceptionalism championed by certain Volantene magisters. After all, had the seed of the Great Tree not come from the North? Was it not the voice of the Old Gods that had advised so many students beneath the Scholar's Tree? Did not their servants walk abroad teaching and aiding in the works of the Imperium?

    All of this was true, and to the average northern peasant all of it was irrelevant, Harkin knew as he pulled his green cloak tighter against the chill of rain just on the edge of freezing. His boots squelched in the cold slush of the road. Sorcery and those who worked it were not likely to get anymore of a warm welcome in the North than in the south from most folk. The greatest difference was the lack of an organized faith to organize that fear and hate into something worse.

    Of course, what goes around comes around. There was no organized faith, and the bone-white trees were silent. The people here, stalwart in the face of cold and blight, illness, and hunger wanted answers about the changing times, and the trees were silent save for the rustle of the wind on their branches and the whisper of dreams few could hear.

    And that was where the Oathkeepers came in. Low magicians for the low part, skilled in the slow and simple magics of ward and ritual. They had been gathered not by the gods, but by the Duke of the Dreadlands, and yet they had been called to serve the Old Gods, to serve their faithful. The Secret Gods were not of man, their slow thoughts and deep growing plans were little comfort to those who looked to them for guidance day by day, and the green fey of the woods who were their friends did not oft venture into the villages of simple farmers and herdsmen who looked to them for guidance.

    Harkin was used to it by now, the sudden barking of dogs, the dark looks and calls to make himself known, but he spoke the tongue and could glare as fiercely as was needed to make sure that they would hear him out. Bone talismans clinked at his belt, but he did not take them out yet. Folks were suspicious of gifts from the blue, but on the other hand they were almost always open to speaking about their misfortunes and strange happenings if you came at them right... which usually meant finding the village tavern and buying a round or two for the local gossip. The rest of them would get in on the storytelling before you knew it.

    There was almost always something the matter near at hand; an angry nixie in the well, a poltergeist making trouble for one of the local families, the sort of thing that did not even make it as far as the local lord, never mind further up the chain to be investigated by the Scholarum or the Inquisition... Well, that was not quite right. Like all mages in the realm Harkin was sworn to the Scholarum, but most of what he did was barely magic—giving advice and spreading word of dangers, showing folk how to cast a line of salt and iron filings on their door if they had to or teaching them how to make a fire if they were caught out in the woods at night when the haunts were near.

    Then and only then did the wards and talismans come out to be handed off to the folk of means and import—the village elder, the miller if there was one, the midwife, at times one or two for the local hunters. In the wide reaches of the North there was more room for smallfolk to hunt, but that also meant there were more places for them to get lost far from help, prey to whatever may be out there.

    By the time Harkin left the village it was with packs filled with fresh rations and a flask filled with the local brew for the road to the next village in lieu of the coin they wanted to give him but he was not stupid enough to take. Oathkeepers weren't to take that sort of payment on the road, and slipping it in was tantamount to stealing from Duke Bolton in his own lands. Harkin had not made it this far by following the gleam of easy money.

    It was good work doing the rounds for the soul as much as for the stomach.

    OOC: A bit of a snapshot for what is going on in the North.
     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • DragonParadox said:
    The Work of Gods and Men ​

    First Day of the Tenth Month 294 AC

    There existed within the halls of academia in the crown city a sort of romantic cachet for the North and all things northern, a sort of counter-movement to the Valyrian exceptionalism championed by certain Volantene magisters. After all, had the seed of the Great Tree not come from the North? Was it not the voice of the Old Gods that had advised so many students beneath the Scholar's Tree? Did not their servants walk abroad teaching and aiding in the works of the Imperium?

    All of this was true, and to the average northern peasant all of it was irrelevant, Harkin knew as he pulled his green cloak tighter against the chill of rain just on the edge of freezing. His boots squelched in the cold slush of the road. Sorcery and those who worked it were not likely to get anymore of a warm welcome in the North than in the south from most folk. The greatest difference was the lack of an organized faith to organize that fear and that hate into something worse.

    Of course, what goes around comes around. There was no organized faith, and the bone-white trees were silent. The people here, stalwart in the face of cold and blight, illness, and hunger wanted answers about the changing times, and the trees were silent save for the rustle of the wind on their branches and the whisper of dreams few could hear.

    And that was where the Oathkeepers came in. Low magicians for the low part, skilled in the slow and simple magics of ward and ritual. They had been gathered not by the gods, but by the Duke of the Dreadlands, and yet they had been called to serve the Old Gods, to serve their faithful. The Secret Gods were not of man, their slow thoughts and deep growing plans were little comfort to those who looked to them for guidance day by day, and the green fey of the woods who were their friends did not oft venture into the villages of simple farmers and herdsmen who looked to them for guidance.

    Harkin was used to it by now, the sudden barking of dogs, the dark looks and calls to make himself known, but he spoke the tongue and could glare as fiercely as was needed to make sure that they would hear him out. Bone talismans clinked at his belt, but he did not take them out yet. Folks were suspicious of gifts from the blue, but on the other hand they were almost always open to speaking about their misfortunes and strange happenings if you came at them right... which usually meant finding the village tavern and buying a round or two for the local gossip, the rest of them would get in on the storytelling before you knew it.

    There was almost always something the matter near at hand, an angry nixie in the well, a poltergeist making trouble for one of the local families, the sort of thing that did not even make it as far as the local lord, never mind further up the chain to be investigated by the Scholarum or the Inquisition... Well, that was not quite right. Like all mages in the realm Harkin was sworn to the Scholarum, but most of what he did was barely magic—giving advice and spreading word of dangers, showing folk how to cast a line of salt and iron filings on their door if they had to, teaching them how to make a fire if they were caught out in the woods at night when the haunts were near.

    Then and only then did the wads and talismans come out to be handed off to the folk of means and import—the village elder, the miller if there was one, the midwife, at times one or two for the local hunters. In the wide reaches of the North there was more room for smallfolk to hunt, but that also meant there were more places for them to get lost far from help, prey to whatever may be out there.

    By the time Harkin left the village it was with packs filled with fresh rations and a flask filled with the local brew for the road to the next village in lieu of the coin they wanted to give him but he was not stupid enough to take. Oathkeepers weren't to take that sort of payment on the road, and slipping it in was tantamount to stealing from Duke Bolton in his own lands. Harkin had not made it this far by following the gleam of easy money.

    It was good work doing the rounds for the soul as much as for the stomach.

    OOC: A bit of a snapshot for what is going on in the North.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Is being able to bomb the shit out of the more blatant monsters making much of a difference?

    Because the thing that's scary about the Beastmen is being able to CREEEEEEED warhosts across a wide geographic area with near-impunity, and you can never quite kill enough of them to make a dent since new mutations from the Magic Space Dust moon in orbit guarantees their survival.

    But we can mostly civilize or bulldoze the shit out of Scary Woods in Westeros, then cut deals with local spirits / plant heart trees to ensure the place stays Unscary Woods afterwards.
     
    DragonParadox said:
    The Work of Gods and Men ​

    First Day of the Tenth Month 294 AC

    There existed within the halls of academia in the crown city a sort of romantic cachet for the North and all things northern, a sort of counter-movement to the Valyrian exceptionalism championed by certain Volantene magisters. After all, had the seed of the Great Tree not come from the North? Was it not the voice of the Old Gods that had advised so many students beneath the Scholar's Tree? Did not their servants walk abroad teaching and aiding in the works of the Imperium?

    All of this was true, and to the average northern peasant all of it was irrelevant, Harkin knew as he pulled his green cloak tighter against the chill of rain just on the edge of freezing. His boots squelched in the cold slush of the road. Sorcery and those who worked it were not likely to get anymore of a warm welcome in the North than in the south from most folk. The greatest difference was the lack of an organized faith to focus that fear and hate into something worse.

    Of course, what goes around comes around. There was no organized faith, and the bone-white trees were silent. The people here, stalwart in the face of cold and blight, illness and hunger, wanted answers about the changing times, and the trees were silent save for the rustle of the wind on their branches and the whisper of dreams few could hear.

    And that was where the Oathkeepers came in. Low magicians for the most part, skilled in the slow and simple magics of ward and ritual. They had been gathered not by the gods, but by the Duke of the Dreadlands, and yet they had been called to serve the Old Gods, to serve their faithful. The Secret Gods were not of man, their slow thoughts and deep growing plans were little comfort to those who looked to them for guidance day by day, and the green fey of the woods who were their friends did not oft venture into the villages of simple farmers and herdsmen who looked to them for guidance.

    Harkin was used to it by now, the sudden barking of dogs, the dark looks and calls to make himself known, but he spoke the tongue and could glare as fiercely as was needed to make sure that they would hear him out. Bone talismans clinked at his belt, but he did not take them out yet. Folks were suspicious of gifts from the blue, but on the other hand they were almost always open to speaking about their misfortunes and strange happenings if you came at them right... which usually meant finding the village tavern and buying a round or two for the local gossip, the rest of them would get in on the storytelling before you knew it.

    There was almost always something the matter near at hand, an angry nixie in the well, a poltergeist making trouble for one of the local families. The sort of thing that did not even make it as far as the local lord, never mind further up the chain to be investigated by the Scholarum or the Inquisition... Well, that was not quite right. Like all mages in the realm, Harkin was sworn to the Scholarum, but most of what he did was barely magic—giving advice and spreading word of dangers, showing folk how to cast a line of salt and iron filings on their door if they had to, teaching them how to make a fire if they were caught out in the woods at night when the haunts were near.

    Then and only then did the wards and talismans come out to be handed off to the folk of means and import—the village elder, the miller if there was one, the midwife, at times one or two for the local hunters. There was more room for smallfolk to hunt in the wide reaches of the North, but that also meant there were more places for them to get lost far from help, prey to whatever may be out there.

    By the time Harkin left the village, it was with packs filled with fresh rations and a flask filled with the local brew for the road to the next village in lieu of the coin they wanted to give him but he was not stupid enough to take. Oathkeepers weren't to take that sort of payment on the road, and slipping it in was tantamount to stealing from Duke Bolton in his own lands. Harkin had not made it this far by following the gleam of easy money.

    It was good work doing the rounds for the soul as much as for the stomach.

    OOC: A bit of a snapshot for what is going on in the North.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    Made a few additional edits to the chapter, DP.

    Neat interlude, dude. I love these little slice of life chapters, with understated worldbuilding and the interesting characters populate it.
     
    Crake said:
    Is being able to bomb the shit out of the more blatant monsters making much of a difference?

    Because the thing that's scary about the Beastmen is being able to CREEEEEEED warhosts across a wide geographic area with near-impunity, and you can never quite kill enough of them to make a dent since new mutations from the Magic Space Dust moon in orbit guarantees their survival.

    But we can mostly civilize or bulldoze the shit out of Scary Woods in Westeros, then cut deals with local spirits / plant heart trees to ensure the place stays Unscary Woods afterwards.
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    The problem with much of the North is not with the sort of things you can bomb, not armies at all, more like that one ghoul that hides in a old wolf's den during the day and comes out at night, or the wraith that only comes out at the full moon or the old ice troll that shows up on a moonless night and asks for the promise of your firstborn to spare you life. There is also a lot of forest out there, far more of it than there are people to patrol it, there are parts of the woods that do not see a human tread for months or years.
     
    DragonParadox said:
    The problem with much of the North is not with the sort of things you can bomb, not armies at all, more like that one ghoul that hides in a old wolf's den during the day and comes out at night, or the wraith that only comes out at the full moon or the old ice troll that shows up on a moonless night and asks for the promise of your firstborn to spare you life. There is also a lot of forest out there, far more of it than there are people to patrol it, there are parts of the woods that do not see a human tread for months or years.
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    But while that's terrible, and one of these things can probably disappear a village (if it worked at it for months, not days)--if you have months of people getting picked off, you can get a message to the closest authority, and now the closest authority doesn't just have to wring hands and send useless patrols of footmen who get lost for weeks before accomplishing nothing / picked off themselves. They can just send a message south and a squad of Transhuman Supersoldiers shows up to recce the area. Or a hunting party of the Wild Hunt under contract runs it down. Or if it's a Big Stompy Monster, a Companion shows up and turns it into a rug.
     
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