BTW did the tone of the legend work? I was afraid it might feel jarring just inserted into the action like that but on the other hand it would lose a lot as back and forth dialog.
Yes, good mood, really got into it, seemed like a tale to tell whole, not as answered questions.

Though it was weird with the "hours passed" intro.
That tale can be told in minutes. Translation-issues or are CotF just that long winded?

I hope talking to Brynden does not take the same Info/Time ratio.
 
@DragonParadox

Can dany sleep for two hours via ring for spells and then sleeps longer for dreams? And also prep some more tounges spells?

If we attempt to let dany get max hours sleep: ser richard sleeps for two hours, viserys watches.

Then viserys sleeps for two hours and ser richard watches.

Regarding the child, how much sleep does it need?
 
... You guys think Melissandre is out questing for Lightbringer? It would make sense... though who would wield it eventually? I'd like Viserys to do it for obvious reasons, but swords are sadly not his style (still hoping Dark Sister doubles as a Staff so we can justify us lugging the thing around. Targ prestiiiige!).

BTW did the tone of the legend work? I was afraid it might feel jarring just inserted into the action like that but on the other hand it would lose a lot as back and forth dialog.

Worked for me, seems ominous and wrapped up in magic speak, surefire way to spike the awed dread factor. Of course, stark capslocked letters spoken in painful clarity can also achieve that effect :D:D:p.

We should still wait for Bloodraven before going all Rambo on the Others, @Artemis1992 , he could give us valuable targets to raid instead of go stumbling along the Haunted Forest like a pinball on fire. Not that that wouldn't be fun, just might be more effective to strike the bastards where it hurts... and where they store their loot!

Given that we keep slipping both IC and OOC on the Walkers/Others name (as DP has heavily implied and recently outright confirmed), thereby invoking some sort of Voldemort spying curse, I nominate 'The Snowballs' as the Walker's new name. The Night King can be good 'ole Snowman.
 
We should still wait for Bloodraven before going all Rambo on the Others, @Artemis1992 , he could give us valuable targets to raid instead of go stumbling along the Haunted Forest like a pinball on fire. Not that that wouldn't be fun, just might be more effective to strike the bastards where it hurts... and where they store their loot!
Maybe, but I'm worried Viserys will want to go for the Resurrection as soon as we meet Brynden and then fighting is out until mom is safely at home.
 
I agree with this.

Unless Soft Strider can provide a damn good reason like "The Others don't know where Bloodraven is, you'll end up drawing attention to him and screwing all of us over" then I want some more combat.

We killed one Beast of Winter and suddenly the surrounding lands are safe. I want to see if we can try for two and potentially delay the Long Night a bit longer.

One thing to keep in mind here is that burminating the Walker's chaff might mean escalation. As in 'Hey, this assholes are more powerful than I thought, maybe I should accelerate my plans', which is obviously something we do not want... another question for Bloodraven!
 
We're travelling supernaturally fast and it's still looking like it will take days. We're not guaranteed a guide out of here (so it might take even longer going back), and we still need a day to negotiate with Castle Black. We're actually tighter on time that we're used to, because we have to account for time for the return trip (we're used to just teleporting home).
 
Bloodraven Lore

1. Landwarden, Lich, & how to successfully sacrifice both. And also if the Old Gods would be willing to work in concert with Yss and the Merling King.
For now you set the thought aside, for other more urgent maters need addressing: of Valyria's dark heritage and the horror that lurks still in the catacombs beneath Lys, a creature of near-godlike power wishing for nothing more than the peace of oblivion and willing to drag hundreds of thousands into its grave, and beside it a sorcerer twisted by unlife who above all else wished to live again, a threat and a chance also should they die of its own will at a time and place appointed beneath the branches of a weirwood tree.

"It cannot die what which has never truly lived," Bloodraven rasps contemplatively at the tale's end. "To remove the danger to Lys, if you truly think there is aught worth saving in that den of indulgence and folly, you must play the midwife not the executioner... allow it to be fully born a spirit of the land, not a scream of defilement echoing forever against itself and it might join the Greendream."

"You do not sound entirely satisfied," Dany remarks.

"Power has its uses, but I do not relish the thought of one more voice screaming of old anguish, and in a manner foreign to the others besides..." he sighs. "It is good that you would think to gentle the wretched thing... a kingly deed, alas that those are rarely easy."

"I do not rule Lys," you demure with a smile.

"Ha!" he half-coughs another cawing laugh. "You must have grown rusty since your days in in Braavos your grace, for truly one would have to find a babe in arms to believe that."

"So how might I assure that I conquer something other than tumbled ruins and broken corpses?" you press.

"The ritual must be done in Lys, a heart tree grown from potent blood to bind with its roots the Unborn's power that dreams of blood and fire be stilled, and landwarden indeed it shall be, a mighty prortector of the lands, the city. Perhaps in time it might even be shaped by the dreams of those who dwell therein."

Quest Gained: Grow level 3 Heart Tree in Lys and persuade the Unborn spirit to bond with it

"So it might spare me the use of an army in a few centuries," you jest with a shake of the head.

"How easily you speak of centuries, when I have not even seen two" there is no resentment in the ancient's voice, but not quite resignation either, more a sort of wistfulness that reminds you more of the Children's solemnity than the last of king Aegon's Great Bastards.
2. Get Dark Sister and that staff of Weirwood Bloodraven showed you in a vision, as well as learning how to use the staff and learning of all effects (and finding out if there's anything more to Dark Sister than being a sword of Valyrian Steel).
Next to the the throne appear, woven of dream-stuff, a Wierwood staff ending in a shard of colorless crystal, or ice and also a Valyrian blade, Dark Sister you realize, the blade Bloodraven took with him North.
"But come you did not trek this far to hear an old man's regrets. Take up that which is yours by right... and that which seals the pact with the Gods."

No sooner had he finished speaking that one of the Children of the Forest, whose eyes are flecked gold and green, comes forth somehow able to hold a staff of pale weirwood in one hand and in the other a blade of dragon-steel, most famed of all the heirlooms of your House save one.

"Careful which of you takes it," Brynden warns.

"Why?" You eye Dark Sister warily, not for its sharpness but for whatever power it may hold. Many were the poisoned gifts you have seen in your travels, and while you do not believe the ancient sorcerer has any reason to betray you with a purpose you know enough about the black arts that went into the forging of Dragonsteel.

"The blade has not been wielded in earnest for more than sixty years. The world was a different place then. I thought I heard it wake in the years that passed, since magic began to return to the world, though steel is not the loudest of things. If any blade of House Targaryen should hold some hidden power it would be this one. Carried by Visenya herself, who was named a witch by many, from then on it passed from hand to hand, drinking blood common, noble, aye even royal on nigh a hundred battle grounds." A laugh that sounds like the cawing of ravens. "A woman's sword was this in the beginning, perhaps like a woman it might prove jealous of its bearer."
"What of the staff?" Dany asks, looking at it intensely, likely with more than mortal eyes.

"The gods as you discovered hunger for blood, yet they also reward sacrifice in kind." Bloodraven replies. "So too this staff must be fed by some of the bearer's own power to call forth its powers. Some are petty, though I would not have called them thus in my youth, to know the land as a king must and a traveler often needs and to call forth a unkindness of ravens to watch from the sky without rousing suspicion."

"Is not the air the domain of our foes?" you ask, intrigued as you reach out for the staff. It feels unnaturally well-balanced in your hand though you doubt its true purpose is to serve as a mere weapon. Indeed you can scarce imagine a piece of wood, however blessed, being mightier than teeth, claw and roaring flame.

"That it is your grace, but it is not only my mother's Blackwood blood that flows in these old veins nor only the sap of weirwood red. Though I have ridden no dragon my soul feels the call of the sky." There is pride now in the ancient's voice, faint beneath the rasping whisper.

"You named these lesser powers, what of the greater?" Dany asks.

"It can serve to carry the bearer between any true heart trees no matter how far his feet carried him," comes the reply. "Thus might you know your realm your grace and your subjects, loyal and not."

The word holds a wealth of meaning, spoken with a courtier's subtlety, long unused but not forgotten.

Runestaff of the Old Gods

Description: This staff seems at first worked of smooth bone and only at a second look might one see the tiny veins of thick red sap worked into what is in truth weirwood, light in the hand as a living thing thing would be, balanced between earth and sky, a pact made manifest, a key to hidden paths unwalked for an age.

Ability: A runestaff of the Old Gods serves as a +2 quarterstaff allows you to cast either of the following spells (each three times per day) by expending a prepared arcane spell or arcane spell slot of the same level or higher:
Special: Tree Stride between any two Heart-Trees no matter the distance (Dangerous to the mind while the Gods are wrathful).

This is a kingly tool you realize, a thing meant not for the rush of battle but the trials of rule. A key it is also to enter the keeps of your foes though power is locked behind appeasing the Old Gods. If ever you might have been tempted to forget the cunning of the man upon the tangled throne this will remind you aplenty.
3. Learn the Day of Change ritual to sacrifice magic items to the Heart Trees.
Much of the rest of the day is spent in the study of a matter you had wished to learn ever since you first dreamed true of this place. How different might your deeds have been if instead of blood you would had chosen to pay the Secret Gods of the stone stream and tree in treasure of a different sort? Might your name be less feared, or would you have merely done without all the aid and protection that those same sacrifices had granted your subjects?

You shake off the thought and fix your mind upon the mater at hand. Today's opportunities matter now, not yesterday's.

"Remember that in the beginning the Children worked no metals, and even bronze was a thing of the First Men and only the chiefs and heroes among them," Bloodraven explains. "Thus you cannot simply break a sword before the Heart Tree and expect the gods to drink the power brought forth. It must be worn and ground apart until its purity is lost and it becomes again one with the earth..." Bloodraven's voice is as dry as ever, but the subject matter is not. He works history, song, and the exploits of heroes into the explanation of arcane matters, in a way that shows a keen intellect not dulled by his long life, but sharpened to a razor's edge.

Learned Day of Change Ritual

So you discover the secrets behind what had always struck you as an odd moment in history: Theon the Hungry Wolf's 'Scouring of Andalos.' How could northmen, few and with little skill at seamanship and few ships, bring such ruin to the rich lands that would one day be the Pentosi heartlands? Such scenes are vivid in the mind and the eye, frightful for a generation perhaps, but to have deterred Andal raiders forevermore, to have broken their heartlands always felt to you like an excess of the scribe's quill. However, Bloodraven tells that more than swords went into the doing of it.

Locked in a fortified septry guarded with more fervor than the towers of Andal lords, the Hungry Wolf found a chalice sacred to the Mother that flowed with life-giving water that could make any who drank of it frightful and even make fields sprout in midwinter. The Stark took then this chalice and broke it before the Heart Tree of Winterfell with his sword before burning the pieces in a fire made with the bones of seven times seven Andal knights and their petty king Argos Seven Star together, all to work a mighty curse upon the invaders: fallow fields, cold hearths, and barren loins he wished to give them.

"Alas for King Theon, he did not truly know his foe. He did not realize that in the veins of the Houses already across the water ran as much or more the blood of the First Men as that of eastern warriors, and that the septons had drawn to their faith many common men with not a single drop of foreign blood. So it came to pass the lasting legacy of Theon Stark was not to take back the South as he had hoped, but vengeance upon those Andals who had not set out upon the sea," the greenseer finishes his tale. There might be the faintest touch of amusement in his voice.

"A lesson?" you ask archly.

He snorts. "You are no child to be taught lessons and neither is your sister though she may still look it. Call it a reminder that blood is not all that matters, a thing easy to forget in eastern lands, and that the greatest of magics can fail from the simplest of causes."

"You teach history far better than the grandmeaster, lord Bloodraven," you answer with a slight bow.

You learn then that the red staring eye of the Last Greenseer can still roll back in his head.
4. Learn of the surviving Children and speak to them, and of course try to recruit them. You could probably get their numbers back up. (I mean, we're getting access to Limited Wish and have been given a green light by DP to grant fertility.) If the Children aren't completely determined to end their own species they should at least be interested. More than that you need a reliable druid of the Old Gods to help with the Genius Loci sacrifice. But you would, of course, welcome any and all Children of the Forest who decide to make the journey south with you.
Harwood and Elle, though foes of old, had both heard the tales 'round the fire of the Children of the Forest who first among mortal kindreds had heeded the call of the Secret Gods of the Deep Woods, who made war then peace with the First men in the Days of Dawn. More than ravening unclean beasts or bears that walked as men, do this seems to fill them both not just with awe but urgency... yet with that urgency came questions also, some of them the same that you would ask, of winter and its masters, or the dead that walked, others of the gods and their will.

Your guide who had settled for being called Soft Strider proves painfully and rather obviously tight lipped in their presence, unwiling to share anything of her kindred and still less the Last Greenseer. Whether that was a command she received upon setting out or the simple caution of a people which had passed out of the knowledge of humankind for centuries uncounted you cannot guess. Regardless it places you in the uncomfortable position of secret keeper who is not a mystical being that does not speak the tongues of men.
Soft Strider approaches you again with another of her kind by her side. Green and gold are this one's eyes, and green the cloak of leaves about her shoulders. To your surprise she speaks in the tongue of Westeros, yet her words are rippling music and nuance beyond what any mortal voice can hold: "Hail, King of Men. It is pleasing to me to see the days of the Dragon once more in the twilight of my life as it was in its dawn. A sign perhaps that not all circles are meant to be broken."

"Hail to you also, attendant to the Seer and the Gods. By what name might you be known to us?" you ask with equal gravity.

"Speaker to Men I was once, when my feet led me south, and here you are men once more before me that we may converse. Speaker I will be again, if it please thee."

As you walk back through the labyrinth under the hill however it is mostly you who speak and she who listens, for you find that she holds a keen interest in the goings of the wider world, having traveled far in her youth, not only South of the Wall but beyond even the Neck to the God's Eye and the Isle of Faces where the Green Men still tend the hallowed place on which the Pact was made in days long gone. "I looked upon the world of men in flower under the sun and I wept for what I saw, for I knew there was no place for us. Now the wheel turns and dark things come from the North or reach out grasping fingers from the waves. As many did before me, I find that I am not overfond of riddles in my own age, and yet I cannot keep myself from seeking them out."
Before departing to seek out the Children, you hand Bloodraven a bag of attuned sand that you may speak to him more readily than in dreams. Alas the old sorcerer takes a careful look at the bag then shakes his head with a soft creek of the roots about him.

"A clever sorcery, your grace, but it cannot cross the wards that guard this place from unfriendly eyes... they could of course be broken and remade with this in mind, but tearing down one's fortress on the eve of war is unwise... particularly as you intend to leave me with even fewer attendants than I already have."

"You know, that really is quite disconcerting," you play along.

"A poor seer I would be if I did not know," he answers. Again the withered shadow of a smile passes over his weathered features and you are glad to see it.

***​
Almost as though they had read your mind, which you would not count a wholly impossible in this place, you find a small company of the Children of the Forest awaiting you in a chamber near your room. Most seem dressed for the road, garbed in cloaks of russet leaves and with daggers of stone at their belt, a few with small weirwood bows and stone-headed arrows strapped to their backs. Among them you pick out Soft Strider sitting near a couple of others who have the look of kin.

"Aren't you being a bit hasty?" Dany says, sounding like she is on the verge of giggling. Ser Richard merely sighs, resigned to the strangeness he has accepted into his life.

Speaker-to-Men addresses you then, she among the few who does not look ready to depart. "We have been considering the matter you wish to set before us for nine-and-ten days. Some did indeed count it hasty, but in that the nearness of death is kin to the heedlessness of youth."

No doubt seeing the confusion writ on all three of your faces she adds. "Pardons, I did not mean to speak in riddles. Long have we been fading from this world and now our long twilight is ending. Final night comes for us and even here beneath the earth and we can hide from it no longer. Thus some among us have chosen to slip out from from beneath the hills and the rocks, the tangled roots of the trees and the wards of the gods one final time. Perhaps there they will perish beneath the sun, setting the tongues of men wagging a few centuries more... or perhaps not." The hope in her voice is almost painful to hear.

Before you can answer Soft Strider surprises you further by haltingly saying in the Common Tongue: "I... would... learn to speak... as man."
You offer a bow to the Singers, in return for their acceptance of your 'proposal', strange though it may have been. "A sad day it would be when man's first teachers would pass out of the world, leaving it a poorer place. My realm small or large shall ever be open to your kin and aid I pledge in helping to turn back the twilight of your race."

There is no surprise in the near-score of glowing golden eyes, though you can read there trepidation, excitement, and of course, hope. Seven and ten of the Children of the Forest join you as you enter the presence of the Last Greenseer one final time and without a single word they set themselves in a wide circle around you, waiting.
5. IC learn of the Others. Nevermind, you already know of the Others. You've known for years. IC learn of the Others' powers, motivations, hierarchies, society, weaknesses, etc. You've known beings of magic to be wholly immune to lesser mortal weapons. Would any of the weapons you currently have access to be enough to harm such creatures? Ask if Valyrian Steel would harm the Others.
Yet whatever horrors that war held it is known that peace followed and men came to heed the wisdom of the Singers whom they named in their tongue Children of the Forest and the Greensong became a subtler thing, dream parted from being as a river parts into many arms upon nearing the sea. Yet it was still whole and vibrant and at peace with itself. Alas that not all the powers that were could find forgiveness in themselves, and the Powers of Winter drew back from the land and made their homes in the farthest North, and such was their grip on the land and the power of their hate that their powers did not wane. Yet the change that they feared still came upon them, for as the ice now knew only itself it came to find itself alone fair and the remainder of the world a foul and ugly thing that died with every breath.

Anger curdled into cold disdain and disdain froze into unbreakable hate. Thus Winter came from the North, a great thing heavy with years unspent. Its breath was blizzard that flayed flesh from bone and the tears of its rage snows unending. Yet though they hated life winter's children envied it also for in their heart of hearts they remembered the time before, so they thought to themselves to make it anew yet in their image also. Such a mockery this was against the song of green-growing things that the Singers made war such as they had never done, not even against men. So were parted winter from summer and the flows of the seasons left not to concord but to the struggles of the Powers.
"Do they fear fire?" Dany asks, looking into the crackling flames as though to divine an answer.

"The least of them do, those whom the ice holds and keeps, but of those who are ice, born of coldest bitterest north, common flame will not serve yet..." A flash of a smile that for an instant reminds you of Glyra. "The earth holds many secrets to its breast." So saying she reveals a dagger with a grip of carved bone and the blade of gleaming dragonglass. "Fire spun to stone that even deepest ice must fear its edge. Alas that it is no common thing..."

You laugh, and upon seeing the curiosity in gold silted eyes you explain, "My thanks for the first bit of pure good tidings since we crossed the Wall. There is a place I can reach with sorcery where dragonglass is as common stone, entire wastelands are carpeted with its dust."

"Guard well that path then, Singer of Flame," Soft Strider says, eyes wide in surprise.
You take the sword still in its sheath, careful not to touch the hilt with its pattern of flames. The ruby in the center of the crossguard seems to wink just for a moment in the mage-lights like a sleepy eye, whether by fancy or truth you cannot say. "I will take this for my own, but as you say I will heed your warning and not unsheathe it until its nature is made clear."

Your words are greeted with a slight relaxation of the shoulders from Ser Richard that might as well be a sigh of relief from the stoic knight, a look of mind disappointment and curiosity thwarted from Dany, and a considering tilt of the head from Bloodraven, as much as he can move his head amid the tangle of roots. "Better too much caution than too little in matters of sorcery..."

"Particularly when it costs little," you add as you wrap the hilt of the blade in dark cloth another of the Children hands you wordlessly. "Would such a blade be potent against..." you hesitate.

"You may name them by the names they are known here," the Last Greenseer assures you. "Here the earth protects... and as to the matter of dragonsteel, it should, for it too is fire bound to earth and made stronger thereby."
6. The Night's Watch obviously needs all the help it can get. Can't the Old Gods hand out blessings in preparation for the Long Night? Making Night's Watch men into Rangers, Druids, Bards, Barbarians and basically anything that will help them. This should be well within their abilities, yes?
"Could not the Old Gods aid the Watch in this hour?" Dany asks after a few moments. Few and poor though they be, they are not without courage and they are the Watches at the Wall, set to guard the realm of men. "Their foe is clear as day..."

"Would that I could act so openly so soon," the greenseer answers, the cracks upon his skin growing deeper as he scowls in frustration. "Alas balance still holds the powers in check. It is still summer, so the first move is mine, but for every move I make the powers of the North may counter in turn. I would not wager on the Brothers of the Night's Watch to use new-gleamed sorcery against frost-touched mages rather than to defect to warmer lands."
7. Tiamat had an Aspect present on Prime Material, which we then defeated, but she was trying to awaken dragonlords that have slumbered since the day of the Doom. She successfully made away with two of the eight sleepers. We managed to kill the third, and recruit the fourth to help us fight Tiamat. The remaining sleepers were sealed away. Any advice on dealing with the Blackfyre now that we're entering the realm of existential crisis?
"And grown that influence has," you remind him grimly.

"Damn Bittersteel to a frozen hell once for a traitor, twice for a madman and thrice for being too skilled half in treason and madness both that his company haunts us still. If you would hear my advice in the matter I say remember that they have been sellswords for generations. To coin have they prayed before any god and such men they are still... slay the high officers, the mages old or new, and take the men into your service and scatter them. Let banners of gold be forgotten, and skilled blades to serve a better cause."
8. Tiamat once tempted us with the secret knowledge of the Great Other's weakness.
"One boon of five she offers: for white a secret of the Ever-Winter, crack upon their icy shield...
Have you any ideas on what that could have been?
Now on to the queen's poisoned gift, that was far easier to divine. From old tales as much as the whispers of the gods it is known that Wyrms of ice and snow roost in the Lands of Always-Winner, under the hands of the powers that dwell therein. Their maker might hold some dominion over them still, or perhaps she could gain it as her influence grows..."

"And grown that influence has," you remind him grimly.
9. We killed the Aspect, and we took the corpse as is our right. But there are concerns that since it is literally made of Tiamat, that she will be able to easily scry on or otherwise influence anyone who uses or wears anything made from the corpse. Are we justified in those concerns? If so, could the Old Gods help block off any connection Tiamat has to the Aspect, much like they did with the Assassin Devil's amulet? Perhaps a throne made from the skulls or something of the sort. Armor crafted of its hide. Bows of dragonbone. Lutes of dragongut. Just so long as we're not forced to throw away the corpse of an entire dragon.
"And... the scales?" Dany asks. You have the strongest feeling she almost asked something else.

"There were once runes of the First Men that might serve the purpose, but I cannot find them again in the span of a few days," Bloodraven replies.
Hey DP, just to be clear, Old Gods had no info on metal dragons?
None whatsoever. In fact what dragonlore Bloodraven will share with you is mostly drawn from his own studies from when he was Hand of the King and before.
10. We have received lore from beyond this world of how Prime Material came to be, and how the Singers first populated this world. The lore tells of how a serpent created by a fire god who coveted Prime Material betrayed her master to the Singers. After the powers that be banished the fire god to the void, the serpent convinced the Singers to make her a guardian of Prime Material, and they granted her divinity, and she grew great and terrible with many heads. Was this Tiamat? And did she go to war against the Old Gods? Proceed to learn of that war.
He listens in silence as you and Dany tell him all you have learned of the Mother of Wyrms, paying careful attention to the loose threads of the tale: a promise made in dreams, a glimpse of scales of another hew, the sight of golden banners upon Essaria's ruins.

"I cannot make heads or tails of the tale of the stone spirits, I fear, save to say that the Old Gods never fought the Mother of all Wyrms. No matter how long the passage of ages they could not have forgotten that.
11. We have learned of a great catastrophe called the Sundering, and have reason to believe it was the fault of the Chromatic Dragons. Apparently it was so terrible that it severed Prime Material from the other planes. The Upper Planes supposedly suffered the most. The Fields of Elysium sundered, Mount Celestia crushed to rubble. What can you tell us of that?
As to the Sundering this I have found, it began far to the east, further than Valyria for certain: a wound in the world and its blood was Darkness and the Shadow its scar."

"Asshai," you whisper to yourself, yet somehow the Greenseer hears you.

"That was my thought also, to the Shadow you must go if you would find the full answer to that riddle, if indeed it still exists anywhere in this world.
12. When she became a cleric of Tiamat, Dany saw a vision of Chromatic Dragons battling the oddest... metal-colored dragons, and in my own dragon dreams I dreamed of a kobold with scales of gold in proto-Valyria who helped the early Valyrians overthrow their chromatic dragon overlords. In the dream when the kobold was asked of his god, he would only say that it was the god of the "Lost Dragons". And when we asked an Archon (of the celestial kind) who became our ally of these metal dragons, they told us the name "Bahamut". What do you know of the war between the two kinds of dragons, and why did the metal-colored dragons seemingly lose? What do you know of Bahamut?
He listens in silence as you and Dany tell him all you have learned of the Mother of Wyrms, paying careful attention to the loose threads of the tale: a promise made in dreams, a glimpse of scales of another hew, the sight of golden banners upon Essaria's ruins.
Hey DP, just to be clear, Old Gods had no info on metal dragons?
None whatsoever. In fact what dragonlore Bloodraven will share with you is mostly drawn from his own studies from when he was Hand of the King and before.
13. In the same vein of the last few questions, ask the Children of the Forest of their tales of the Dawn Age, the Heroic Age, the Long Night, and the Andal Invasion and record them in an empty book. Remember everything you don't record and resolve to write it down later at the earliest opportunity.
"Many were the spirits and many were the powers in times gone by, each as different as one root from the other, notes in the Song. At times it was fierce and bloody and others it was calm as a spring breeze. War and peace, winter and summer, came swiftly then, in the span of a single year for the Great Powers willed that all should be ordered thus. The giants built great towers of stone and the Children wove together cities from symphonies of leaf and vine. At times these works faded and other times they sank into the bones of the land. What men call the Giant's Lance was once a fallen tower, and the God's Eye was sung into being to tell the tale of a single auspicious birth. In those days beasts might speak with the cunning of a sage one day and forget themselves the next and, even the stones might have sung if they were called.

Then the First Men came from the East where the sun is born fierce and bright, and indeed they claimed to be fleeing a great fire in the lands of sunrise. Whether it was the breath of fire that lessened the great song or men who tore bright metal from the earth's breast and cut back the wildwood to build towns guarded with walls of dead wood and sundered stone the tales do not tell for certain, but war there was and of that war the Children do not sing, lest their thoughts turn bitter and their hearts to stone.

Yet whatever horrors that war held it is known that peace followed and men came to heed the wisdom of the Singers whom they named in their tongue Children of the Forest and the Greensong became a subtler thing, dream parted from being as a river parts into many arms upon nearing the sea. Yet it was still whole and vibrant and at peace with itself. Alas that not all the powers that were could find forgiveness in themselves, and the Powers of Winter drew back from the land and made their homes in the farthest North, and such was their grip on the land and the power of their hate that their powers did not wane. Yet the change that they feared still came upon them, for as the ice now knew only itself it came to find itself alone fair and the remainder of the world a foul and ugly thing that died with every breath.

Anger curdled into cold disdain and disdain froze into unbreakable hate. Thus Winter came from the North, a great thing heavy with years unspent. Its breath was blizzard that flayed flesh from bone and the tears of its rage snows unending. Yet though they hated life winter's children envied it also for in their heart of hearts they remembered the time before, so they thought to themselves to make it anew yet in their image also. Such a mockery this was against the song of green-growing things that the Singers made war such as they had never done, not even against men. So were parted winter from summer and the flows of the seasons left not to concord but to the struggles of the Powers.

Seeing the power of Night waxing men came to beg aid of the Children, but the Dreamers had foreseen that it was not yet the time and so they called for patience, yet patience is not in the nature of man. This too they had foreseen. Some spent their lives fruitlessly against the foe, but one man vowed to go east and find the fire the eldest tales of his kindred spoke of. Three years he was gone in the lands of sunrise until at last all his fellows had given up hope of his return, yet return he did, and on that day the Singers took the spark of tamed fire from his hands and forged it into a weapon against the dark. Thus did Dawn come."

Even as the tale of dawn is done, the light glimpsed between the branches above begins to turn ruddy, and the forest around you loses its otherworldly air, your guide explaining that it would not be safe to be elsewhere after dark."
14. Learn of how Bloodraven grew into his own magic before magic went through its great rebirth.
It is the task of several hours to learn the complex spell work that Bloodraven teaches. In the tongue of the Freehold that had perhaps never been heard in this hidden chamber, he speaks the incantations. Here in the dark where no light of sun, moon, or star can reach, you learn of astrological conjunctions and the way they can be used to coax fire from steel. And through these teachings you learn something more of the nature of the world before the silent unseen rebirth of magic, when even the feeblest of powers had to be wrung from the sweat of one's brow, the blood of one's foes, or else the relics of a greater age. How small the world you had been born into had been...
14. Inquire if he knows anything of Valyrian lore, or dragonlore. You've come into possession of a dragon's egg and you're preparing to start hatching it, and you'd like to avoid a Summerhall incident.
"What of Summerhall then? You showed it to me, but not the whole of it," you rend him.

"You asked of your father's follies not your great-grandfather's, and in truth it gladdened me to hear it. Too many have died with stone eggs clutched to their chests..." He sighs and looks into the distance, hearing no voices save those of memory you suspect.

"Yet now the world is changed and magic surges strong," you pause a moment hen add softly. "I have faced wildfire and it did not consume me, yet I would not use the foul stuff unless there was no other way."

"Good!" the man upon the tangled throne declares. "It is no force of making, of transmutation, wherever those thrice damned fools with the temerity to call each other wise may say. It is a thing of pure destruction. But tell me, your grace, if you could hatch your twice stolen egg who would you give it to?" You have to admire the offhanded way in which he mentioned knowing of your acquiring of the egg and 'kidnapping ' of Valaena Velaryon.
"To her who aided in its recovery," you answer at last. Sensing that Bloodraven seeks more than a simple answer you continue, "First because I gave my word and do not lightly break it, secondly because neither I nor Daenerys have time to properly bond with such a beast..."

"You said I'm supposed to have fun. A pet would be that, wouldn't it?" Dany says in a faux childish whine which draws a snort of amusement from you, yet you carry on.

"Thirdly and most importantly it is a message. Aegon took the Seven Kingdoms on such a beast's back, and by their savagery and the folly of their riders the Dance nearly cast down all into ash. I need no such creature under me to wield fires such as those kindled upon the Fields of Fire. I can only pray the warning will be enough," you finish gravely.

The elder sorcerer ponders your words for a few moments then replies, "I am glad you thought the matter through, but I fear you may at least in part be making the most common mistake of a clever person, believing most of one's fellows share that cleverness. A dragon rider is something highborn and low can understand, but a dragon in truth, not bard's fancy nor a scribe's flattery, that they will fight for fear of the unknown and those who prey upon it... are fighting in a sense as with the tales of you boiling down infants for soup-stock... "
16. As a followup, ask if he knows what caused Summerhall.
"What of Summerhall then? You showed it to me, but not the whole of it," you rend him.

"You asked of your father's follies not your great-grandfather's, and in truth it gladdened me to hear it. Too many have died with stone eggs clutched to their chests..." He sighs and looks into the distance, hearing no voices save those of memory you suspect.

"Yet now the world is changed and magic surges strong," you pause a moment then add softly. "I have faced wildfire and it did not consume me, yet I would not use the foul stuff unless there was no other way."
17. What Targaryen heirlooms does Bloodraven know of, be they in Dragonstone, Summerhall, or the Red Keep? Just as the lands Beyond the Wall have the Builder's Anchor, are there any magics in the ancestral Targaryen holdings? Any sealed artifacts? What of in Raventree Hall?
When you return to Bloodraven's chamber you find him in good spirits and thus conclude what whatever his business it must have ended favorably but still you do not press. Instead you ask of the secrets of your House that might be found sealed in the Red Keep or else in Dragonstone or Summerhall.

He begins to speak slowly as though he struggles with the memories of another life, but his voice quickly gains strength. "Of Summerhall I can say with some surety that it held no heirloom in my day and if any were brought there in Aegon's failed bid to return the dragons to the world I would not think they would have survived the fire. I suppose any artifacts of Valyrian Steel might have endured though I would not wager much upon the notion."
The matter settled he moves on to the reminder of your questions. "Best among all the places you have named I know Maegor's Holdfast. There blood magic hangs so thick upon the walls I was often surprised the stone does not bleed rivulets of red through its pores... King Maegor was less skilled in sorcery than his mother I think, but far more willing to pay a grand price for it. These wards keep even my eye away unless I have some affinity with what I wish to observe..."

"Like father or me as a child," you nod in understanding. "I cannot deny that I am disappointed to hear that you cannot tell me of the councils of the Usurper as though you sat upon them, but the world rarely holds such perfect boons."

"Can you not see through the Heart Tree?" Dany asks.

"The Heart Tree in the Red Keep in an oak," Bloodraven explains. "If only my sight had been clearer in my youth, or my predecessor more forceful in his acts. In any case I would advise against trying to will yourself across the threshold of the keep by sorcery. King Maegor might have allowed a free path for those who shared his blood, but given his character and deeds I would not stake much upon it."

"So the legacy of Maegor is a strong fortress for the Usurper to squat within," you say. "That sounds about right given them man's other 'achievements'."

"At least history remembers him as unkindly as his failures deserve," the old sorcerer counters. "Alas that is not the case for the man who is responsible for purging most arcane texts from the royal collection as well as manifold other forms of idiocy and ill-rule: Baelor the Blessed." The last word is spoken with venom only slightly less than that with which he speaks of Bittersteel.
Bloodraven smiles faintly at the byplay before continuing. "Your best chance of finding sorcerous texts or objects of power would be in Dragonstone, for Baelor was never formally enshrined as Prince of Dragonstone before his ascension to the throne following the death of Daeron the First. At the very least the stone eggs should still be in the treasury, there were four and ten at last count."
18. Ask if he knows anything of the properties of dragonsteel. You've come into possession of a considerable amount of it over the course of your efforts to keep the world from being overrun, and you have some vague notions of the properties and forging/reforging methods through echoes of memory in your blood and through observation and experience, but it's a far thing from actual mastery of the subject. Perhaps in his long years Bloodraven has learned something you have not? (Known: Valyrian Steel is heated in dragonbreath and quenched in fiendsblood, and also the blood of lots and lots of slaves. It can only be reforged in blood. It is smoky grey-black in color. It always holds its edge. It corrodes at all other metals. It has a special affinity for fire enchantments, and with armor it can be used to shrug lesser spells off. Great spikes of Valyrian Steel were used to harness the power of the Fourteen Fires.).
"Did you ever learn anything of the deeper magics of spellsteel?" you interrupt. "In our travels we have found some things but the lore remains incomplete." You continue to explain all that you had learned of the matter.

"There is only one spell that I worked with Valyran steel in my youth, one I discovered in notes I suspect must have belonged to Queen Visenya or King Maegor. It drained the virtue from it to empower a ritual of good fortune." No doubt seeing your surprise he adds, "You must remember that magic was thin then, as rare as water in the Dornish desert compared to the flood we see about us today. Spells I can work in an instant now cost hours, perhaps even days of preparation and sacrifice then."

"What object did you sacrifice?" Dany asks, probably as reticent as you are to ask if he ever used some other kind of sacrifice.

"Three razor blades, half a dozen needles, and a hair comb if memory serves," he replies, lipless mouth twitching into a smile at your reactions. "Kings and princes are not always the most sensible with how they use their treasures. Do you wish to learn the ritual?"

"What will it do?" you ask

"Now, I'm not sure," he admits. "It might allow you to use spells beyond your strength. It might simply unmake the steel for no true use. It might even create a perilous conflagration of magic. It might offer some insight into the nature of the steel if nothing else."

What do you do?
19. Ask about the "Shadow of the Wall" you heard about from Vellamo the Selkie.
The name reminds you of the titanic presence of the Wall and the power that is locked within it, power that reaches you even here. "How was the Wall built, and why of ice? It seems a strange choice given what it was meant to guard against?"

"Alas I am not Bran the Builder, nor can I recall his arts..." Bloodraven laughs then, though the sound is more melancholy than bitter. "In truth those were the first secrets I sought when I first took this seat. Still lesser runes I can recall with time and patience as I have told you yesterday, though It will take weeks even months..."

"And so the great wards like those in Runestone and Winterfell that guard against even the dreamer's mind will be locked away forever?" you ask, dispirited at the loss.

"Such ambition..." He looks up from his work to give you an approving look. "From fundamentals and from study of the finished wards old secrets may yet come to light."
20. How on earth was the Builder's Anchor built? What did it cost? How long will it last? Is there anything we need to do to make sure it's not destroyed by the Others? ... Is it bound to the Wall?
The name reminds you of the titanic presence of the Wall and the power that is locked within it, power that reaches you even here. "How was the Wall built, and why of ice? It seems a strange choice given what it was meant to guard against?"

"Alas I am not Bran the Builder, nor can I recall his arts..." Bloodraven laughs then, though the sound is more melancholy than bitter. "In truth those were the first secrets I sought when I first took this seat. Still lesser runes I can recall with time and patience as I have told you yesterday, though It will take weeks even months..."

"And so the great wards like those in Runestone and Winterfell that guard against even the dreamer's mind will be locked away forever?" you ask, dispirited at the loss.

"Such ambition..." He looks up from his work to give you an approving look. "From fundamentals and from study of the finished wards old secrets may yet come to light."
He has no idea how the Wall was made, yes
21. We have seen two example of First Man wards through the dreamlands, first in Runestone and next in Winterfell. Can you tell us all known effects of these wards and what magics it would take to build wards of our own?
The name reminds you of the titanic presence of the Wall and the power that is locked within it, power that reaches you even here. "How was the Wall built, and why of ice? It seems a strange choice given what it was meant to guard against?"

"Alas I am not Bran the Builder, nor can I recall his arts..." Bloodraven laughs then, though the sound is more melancholy than bitter. "In truth those were the first secrets I sought when I first took this seat. Still lesser runes I can recall with time and patience as I have told you yesterday, though It will take weeks even months..."

"And so the great wards like those in Runestone and Winterfell that guard against even the dreamer's mind will be locked away forever?" you ask, dispirited at the loss.

"Such ambition..." He looks up from his work to give you an approving look. "From fundamentals and from study of the finished wards old secrets may yet come to light."
22. What secrets went into building Runestone, Winterfell, Storm's End, and the Wall?
The name reminds you of the titanic presence of the Wall and the power that is locked within it, power that reaches you even here. "How was the Wall built, and why of ice? It seems a strange choice given what it was meant to guard against?"

"Alas I am not Bran the Builder, nor can I recall his arts..." Bloodraven laughs then, though the sound is more melancholy than bitter. "In truth those were the first secrets I sought when I first took this seat. Still lesser runes I can recall with time and patience as I have told you yesterday, though It will take weeks even months..."

"And so the great wards like those in Runestone and Winterfell that guard against even the dreamer's mind will be locked away forever?" you ask, dispirited at the loss.

"Such ambition..." He looks up from his work to give you an approving look. "From fundamentals and from study of the finished wards old secrets may yet come to light."
23. Talk to him about your recent truce with the Deep Ones and your battle with Devils in White Harbor, and also about how the Devils attempted to assassinate Renly Baratheon during your parlay with the man, which would have forever tarnished your image had you succeeded.
The elder sorcerer ponders your words for a few moments then replies, "I am glad you thought the matter through, but I fear you may at least in part be making the most common mistake of a clever person, believing most of one's fellows share that cleverness. A dragon rider is something highborn and low can understand, but a dragon in truth, not bard's fancy nor a scribe's flattery, that they will fight for fear of the unknown and those who prey upon it... are fighting in a sense as with the tales of you boiling down infants for soup-stock... "

"Boiling babies for soup...?" You keep telling yourself you should not be surprised, and yet you still feel a flush of anger rise to your cheeks

A skeletal hand twitches as if to motion somehow. "Foul potions to restore your sorcerous vigor in most of the places it is told, but 'soup-stock' is more amusing. I have found it serves to be able to laugh at such absurdity from one's worst detractors so as not to be moved to rash action."

"Who are those who prey upon that fear, who spreads such foulness with malice and not merely ignorance?" you ask at last, reminding yourself that it would be madness blame every peasant who lends an ear to such talk.

"The ones you are thinking of, certainly," Bloodraven answers. "The great rebel lords and the lesser, all who profited from the Usurpation, but it goes deeper than that I am afraid. With magic come monsters, whether merely those who would abuse it to sate their vices or horrors out of tale and song. The common man, even most simple knights, will never have seen a sorcerous healing, nor fields blooming and giving fruit by a mage's word. But by now all will have heard darker things: a family butchered like hogs inside their house though all the doors and windows were barred, a girl lost on the moors one night and finding herself pregnant knowing not who or what the child is, a village by the coast gone as if it had never been, the coast haunted by the spirits of the unquiet dead... and on it goes, often things that have nothing to do with sorcery are blamed upon it: sickness, blight, simple misfortune. Witches die by the score who are nothing of the sort, or else they are shunned by all save the desperate..."

"I've seen it myself," you admit, remembering the tale of how Vee had been driven out for the 'sin' of not being able to perform the miracles asked of her. "But... the bloody pyromacers use it, even fucking Tywn Lannister made an order of sorcerers."

"And for that they are reviled, though perhaps not as much as you and yours, for they do not carry the specter of war with them like a banner," comes the simple answer. "Most are content to think that their lords have not sunk too far into foul practices, for surely they would have noticed, but the Dragon King in his far off land where every man is a killer and pirate and a slaver..."

"How in the festering pits of hell are we slavers?" Dany hisses between clenched teeth.

"There are places within three days' travel of the coast who have never seen an Essosi and would not know a Braavosi from a Summer Islander, but what they do know is that the heathen eastern lands the Andals came from are full off slavers and murderers, none more than the Stepstones..."

"Not all of them," you counter, as much to remind yourself as him. "Some come to be healed in hope of a better life..."

"A trickle only they do, and many of those who stay behind tell themselves that they go to perdition lest they be overcome by envy," A soft rasping sigh echoes through the chamber. "The human heart can be an ugly thing even in those who are not monsters in the skin of man."

"So what the fuck do I do?" you explode, frustration finally bubbling over.

"Conquer, rule, show them all that no demons come in the night for their children and the fears will wear away in time... In truth they already are by the acts of your foes..." Bitter reassurance, but perhaps true.

"What of the true monsters? The fiends reaping souls in White Harbor, the Deep Ones rising along Crackclaw Point?" Dany asks, perhaps to distract you.

"An opportunity," Bloodraven replies simply. "Every hero needs a villain, and you both have a surfeit of them. Have bards sing your tales..."

"But you..." Dany begins.

"Yes, what should I do here?" the sorcerer asks, and for the first time you can hear a hint of anger in his voice. "Should I peck out the eyes of every fool who might take cursed coin, try to drive fishermen from the sea and villages from the shore. I act through those who hear the voice of the gods where and how I can, against monsters, traitors and even gods..."
24. Further elaborate on the Renly situation in general, on what Renly is, and on what agreements you've come to with him and what you resolve to do.
OOC: Bloodraven does not need to be told about Renly when the Assassin devil struck his deal with you in front of a heart-tree and otherwise you can assume he is reasonably well informed of your actions in Westeros.
25. Now that it's safe to do so, ask about the Wildfire in King's Landing. How unstable is it? How do we move it? Could the Old Gods move it with a potent enough sacrifice? Where does Wildfire originate and how is it made? We know that Aerys brought the Alchemist's guild from Volantis, but what about before that? Could we move it to the Deep One City and blow it up there?
"When first we met you showed me my father's failings to the last and greatest, the one that might still bring ruin if the bloody wildfire is not removed from King's Landing. From my own divinations I know that it has not yet been removed. As I have pondered the notion I came upon the notion of using it one final time against the greatest fastness of those who love the cold and dark. Fitting that they would die by such torturous flames who thought to use them against me and mine," you explain the notion that had been ripening in your thoughts form months.

Bloodraven is silent for a long moment before answering, not as though he is listening for the gods, but merely thinking. At last he speaks: "Were you another man your grace, less skilled in the arcane, I would say forget this and any notion of using the Pyromancers' wretched Substance for any cause. As things stand I ask you would you try to stab a mighty foe with a dagger made by a half blind smith using the leavings of better craftsmen for his tools?"

"What then would you counsel?" you ask, not truly surprised that he speaks of caution.

"If you must use wildfire for the task, and I grant it can be quite potent in destruction, then I would counsel you find the formula for making it, hand it to someone whose skill you trust, such as your lover or even the Royce boy, and then use that concoction for your ends," he replies

"The miserly 'Wisdoms' will not lightly give up their secrets, especially now that they have more of them worth the name," Ser Richard interjects.

"Then they would die traitors' deaths and the world will be better for it." Bloodraven's words have a sort of chill finality to them that reminds you that this is far from the first time he has engaged in this sort of calculus.
The Tree gods probably can't help with magical fire. The most straightforward way to do it would be with Anti-Magic Field.
26. What does Bloodraven know of the "Deceiver"? What does he know of the Doom? You've had this vision of the Doom:
That night you dream of Valyria and its fall, disjointed flashes of sorrow, pain and terror and at the end of it all green flame and a vast booming thunder that almost sounds like the mocking laughter of some titanic beast.
What exactly did you see? The connection with Wildfire is... concerning.
Bloodraven gives no sign perhaps the barest hint of a smile lost in the shadows then he moves on. "Of the Doom and the days before it the Gods know nothing for there were no heart trees in Valyria and I only a little more from what I have studied in my youth, for I fear even in those years Essosi tomes were filled with the self-aggrandizement of petty magisters and those of Westeros with the pious ramblings of the Faith."
27. Why exactly did the dragons just get smaller and die out? It's been whispered that the Dragonpit is cursed. Is there any truth to that? It was built on the ashes of the Sept of Remembrance, and you've recently learned that the gods are all real... And what do you know of hatching dragons?
I would know of dragons, then," you say. "Of their coming to Westeros, the building of the Dragonpit, their flowering and withering, as well as how I might hatch the egg that I possess and these others you have told me of. Was it a curse upon the Dragonpit, some conspiracy, or simple mischance that saw to their fall?"

"Again you ask for history, before dealing with the future before you," the old sorcerer replies. "And here I thought that it was the privilege of the old to bore their descendants with tales of days long passed." He sounds lighthearted, not something most would associate with the ghastly figure bound and sustained in bone-white roots, but so it seems to you nonetheless.

He speaks on in what must have once been a voice trained to shout commands across a battlefield, now little more than a whisper but somehow no less powerful for it. "Many claim the Dragonpit was cursed for having been built upon the ashes of the Sept of Remembrance. For myself I do not believe it, not only for having felt no malice beneath the broken dome, save perhaps the lingering weight of those who died to Dreamfyre's flame. The Storming of the Dragonpit holds a certain grim humor if you will consider it. Driven by their preacher the mob marched out to avenge Helaena and her children, and it was her dragon that slew most of them. Even beyond my appreciation of the Seven's capacity for ironic slaughter or lack thereof, however, the supposed cause and effect do not match up. The Dragonpit was built by Maegor, not Aegon the Third, and if the dragons somehow grew less in that period, well, no one seems to have told the lunatic traitors who used these 'lesser' dragons to bring about the Dance and the near-ruin of the Seven Kingdoms."

"So you think it was a natural thing, a lessening of magic perhaps?" Dany asks.

"It might have been," Bloodraven admits. "But to one of my experience it is impossible not to entertain at least the possibility of conspiracy. Yet if I would have to search for it it would be among the regents of the boy king Aegon the Third or..." he hesitates. There would be very few in that distant age he should have any reason to avoid accusing before you.

"The young king himself," you guess. "The boy who saw his mother devoured by a dragon before his very eyes, who had to rule a land in the shadow of the Dance and its horrors. You think Aegon Dragonbane deserved his title fully."

"I think he would have been too young to be at the head of such a conspiracy," the ancient Sorcerer says. "But he might have guessed later and offered his tacit approval, or simply done nothing as the dragons died." He sighs a soft rattling sound. "As I said this is merely my guess, but one thing I know for certain—the more brutal the war the more grudges it leaves behind. No war in the history of the Seven Kingdoms has been more vicious than the Dance. If the smallfolk could blame 'all dragons' for their ill fate and die in their thousands to 'avenge' themselves, why not the nobles? Why not the king?"

"The dragons were the steel fist of the royal House against the high nobles, but Aegon was raised as much or more by those same high nobles as by his kin," Dany muses. "It fits well enough, though it matters little so late. What thoughts have you on turning fate upon its head?"

"I have never seriously considered the matter since I was very young and dreaming a young man's dreams, but what I managed to gleam then I will share," Brynden Rivers replies. "For the egg you recovered from the Lannisters I would say give it to the girl to hold at all times, particularly when she is practicing sorcery. Teach her to conjure fire and have her cast it upon it each day at sunset, for that is when dragon mothers often returned from the hunt."

"And for the eggs of stone?" you ask.

"For that, one should remember that we live in an age of marvels... What is stone may yet be flesh to the sorcerer's will." His staring red eye fixes upon a stone the size of a large dog tumbled near the far wall of the cave. The spell he works then is no petty cantrip, but one as potent or more so than any you have ever worked. "From stone, life!" he commands, and so where there had before been a stone there is now a lump of reddish meat.

"You think the stone dragons are petrified, as though touched by a gorgon's breath?" you ask, wondering why the notion never came to you. Perhaps you had simply been to fixated on the transformation from flesh to stone being weapon.

"It would seem a marvelous protection against the fading of magic, would it not?" Bloodraven says. "Once flesh has been transmuted one is neither living nor dead, not dependent on constant magic to endure, and of course as hard to damage as stone. Should that stone also be enveloped in the hard shell of dragon eggs, I would not be surprised if an unborn dragon could endure thus millennia."

"But who then would undo the magic?" Ser Richard asks, ever one to see flaws in wild flights of fancy.

"Dragons were not always mere beasts," Dany says grimly, though there is triumph lurking in her eyes.
28. Waymar Royce's younger sister, Ysilla Royce, has in her eagerness to reunite with her exiled brother and her ignorance of the danger, bargained away a favor to one of the clansmen who then took that as payment in exchange for passing a message to us through the Heart Trees. Since the message came through the Heart Trees, you've no doubt that Bloodraven is aware of the situation in some fashion. Bring up the subject and make it clear that if Bloodraven's pawn uses her favor over Ysilla to force her into an unacceptable situation you will not tolerate it, and neither will Waymar.
"On then to more serious matters," you say after a moment. "Do you know what the wildling sorceress in the Vale intends to do with Ysilla Royce's pledge?" Once you might have explained more, but you have long since realized that if there is one thing the Last Greenseer does not lack for it is knowledge, much less of someone speaking through the Heart Tree.

"I do not know, because the young 'godspeaker' as the clansmen call her does not know herself," he explains. "I will warn her against demanding anything distasteful," he assures you.
29. What plans are in place for the Starks? They alone of all the Lord Paramounts still worship the Old Gods, and earlier Bloodraven gave us a prophecy that if we aided them in their time of greatest need they would be loyal to us in gratitude.
"Yet I sensed the touch of the Old Gods upon the youngest Stark girl. Why her?" you ask.

"She is near enough an infant. By the time she can move the conflict will be fought in earnest." He hesitates a long moment as though pondering how much of his plans to reveal. "It also gives me an envoy of sorts in the confidence of the lord of Winterfell. Whether by fate or chance it fell to me to guide the Nameless Gods in this hour. No warrior first and foremost I for all I fought my share of wars. Master of Whispers I was, and so I learned that a whisper in the right ear can be worth more than the thunder of a thousand knights across the battlefield."
30. Dany has seen the hand of the Old Gods upon the youngest Stark girl. What's going on there?
"Yet I sensed the touch of the Old Gods upon the youngest Stark girl. Why her?" you ask.

"She is near enough an infant. By the time she can move the conflict will be fought in earnest." He hesitates a long moment as though pondering how much of his plans to reveal. "It also gives me an envoy of sorts in the confidence of the lord of Winterfell. Whether by fate or chance it fell to me to guide the Nameless Gods in this hour. No warrior first and foremost I for all I fought my share of wars. Master of Whispers I was, and so I learned that a whisper in the right ear can be worth more than the thunder of a thousand knights across the battlefield."
31. Tell us how to train druids. Better yet, help us do it. For example, we've two young girls--Reva and Liset--who can already hear the voices of the Old Gods. Could you train them as druids? Could you send one of the Singers to help us train Druids in preparation for the coming Long Night?
Then Dany asks something that had been much on your mind. "If it is safe for the clansmen of the Mountains of the Moon to possess mages beholden to the Old Gods, then might the same be said for us? After all, the connection would hardly be any more obvious than the Heart Trees grown by bloody sacrifice already make it. I ask because I know of two girls, twins born of an old Volantine family, who can speak to each other in their mind across any distance, and they can hear the voices of the gods."

"Is there anything special about these children besides the obvious?" the ancient sorcerer rasps.

"They are pale of skin and eye," you reply after a moment's thought.

"Odd..." The word is so soft you almost do not hear it, and for the barest moment his attention is elsewhere. "Perhaps they have some affinity. Bid them to spend time near a heart tree. I make no promises save that they will not be harmed by it."
31. I'm sure you've noticed by now, but we have our own demiplane. This demiplane has a dracolich bound within it, serving as some sort of power source for the wards. Unfortunately it does not like being bound and has made the transport of the demiplane difficult. Can you help us find the phylactery so we can get rid of it?
Also, @DragonParadox, does Bloodraven not have a solution for the dracolich?
I knew I forgot something. I guess I can just tell you OOC he does not. Not really his area of expertise.
32. Fish for information that Bloodraven has been gathering on the various supernatural going-ons in Westeros. He told us that his vision is clouded in Essos where the "Ifequevron" dwell (see if he'll tell us anything more about them), but that should not be the case for Westeros itself. This is our chance to learn of current events in a way that completely surpasses mere rumor and hearsay.
For a while longer you speak of matters of the Seven Kingdoms and the acts of your foes, none of them truly secret or astonishing, but more reliable by far than the sailor's talk you have been relying on since your days in Braavos.
OOC: No earth-shaking secrets at this time.
33. Bloodraven might not be able to see in Essos due to there being no Heart Trees that have grown there in an age, but he can see in Westeros. What great secrets and important does he know that he can share with us? Just as Ned Stark has the secret of Jon Snow not being his bastard son, but in truth being his nephew, what secrets are there in Westeros that would bring the Seven Kingdoms to its knees? What of Houses Lannister and Baratheon?
For a while longer you speak of matters of the Seven Kingdoms and the acts of your foes, none of them truly secret or astonishing, but more reliable by far than the sailor's talk you have been relying on since your days in Braavos.
OOC: No earth-shaking secrets at this time.
34. Ask if there is any truth to the legend of the Baratheons being descended from the Storm God through Elenie Stormborn's marriage to Durran Godsgrief. How might such a bloodline manifest? Has it manifested anywhere among the Baratheons or their bastards?
"One wonders if it is true that the Baratheons hold the blood of a Storm God or if such magics have made themselves manifest in any of the Usurper's bastards?" you ask idly. "Whatever the fate of their house, it would be a shame to waste the blood of gods..."

Bloodraven gives a short hacking laugh. "If any of those bastards could hear you now, your grace, they would be fleeing far and fast indeed. "

"I'm interested in the rest of them, not just their blood," you protest.

"To answer your question, I cannot say for certain if it is the blood of gods, but there was power in the line of Durran Godsgrief, even before it twined with the blood of the Dragon. I have not seen any of the false king's bastards to show sorcery, but I freely confess they are so many even I cannot watch them all. Perhaps lacking the skill to match any other achievement, he means to match my father in the number of his bastards."

"That would be funny to work into a song," Dany remarks idly, drawing a laugh from you.
35. Regarding the Seven, they have not been complacent. While in Dorne we learned of a Cleric of the Seven running around and healing people and the like:
You nod thoughtfully then turn to Velen: "Are there any tales of true miracle workers of the Seven or otherwise? Credible ones as much as such a thing can be said of rumors. "

"A girl somewhere in the Marches has been confirmed by what divinations we were able to work. But she seems helpful, from what little we heard of her, not inclined to preach against the prince, so he has chosen to leave her be," Velen answers slowly. "For followers of other gods, the two servants of R'hllor lady Tyene has sent here from Braavos are still here and willing to help whenever they are not... otherwise occupied."
And recently in the Stormlands we met a young Brienne of Tarth who was blessed by the Warrior, a budding paladin. With Brienne in particular we would prefer to slowly turn her away from the Seven, to both take away a powerful follower of the Seven and so we don't have to fight the poor girl. For the others, that's up in the air since we don't know them, but we would see turning them also away from the Seven as a good alternative. The question is thus: how many other clerics and paladins of the Seven are there? And where are they? Which of them will give us the greatest problems?
"I do not know of any yet but I am seeking them, just as I keep my eye on their champions when and where I can," he answers.

"How many such champions are there, and where did you last see them?" you ask urgently.

"Seven, there must be seven at least, one for each face of their god," Bloodraven replies with certainty. "Of them I know of the Maiden's Chosen in Old Town having braved the depths beneath the Hightower, a boy chosen of the Smith whom I glimpsed in the Westerlands, and an old woman who... was the Crone's chosen."

"What happened to her?" Dany asks.

"She accosted a friend of Edmure Tully, young heir to the Riverlads, named him thief and even tried to use magic against him. Obviously Lord Tully could not stand for such and outrage. She lost her head, her followers were set wandering and were even excommunicated by the High Septon for their 'heretical' beliefs."

"How were common armsmen able to slay a god's chosen?" you ask suspiciously.

"The friend to the young Tully heir is a singer from Skaagos, with his own peculiar gifts," Bloodraven replies, satisfied.

When it becomes clear that he is not going to offer any more information on the matter you tell him of the young lady of Tarth who had shown herself the Warrior's Chosen, though with some trepidation. You swiftly mention your intention to slowly turn her from the Seven, and indeed your willingness to at least entertain the notion for the others. Even beyond not wishing harm on a child who had done nothing but protecting her home from fiends the Dornish had clearly shown the worth of turning mage-priests from their gods.

"There is something to be said for encouraging treachery before open attack," the Last Greenseer agrees, head moving in the closest approximation of a nod he can manage. "If the Tarth girl becomes so much of a bother that I consider forceful measures I will mention it to you beforehand, that you may speed up your own plans. Is that satisfactory, your grace?"
36. What does Bloodraven know of the nature of the Seven themselves? Not the corrupt and decadent Faith in King's Landing and Oldtown, not the zealous preachers in backwater hamlets, but the actual gods. Where did they come from? Why did they send their followers to invade Westeros and slaughter the Children and burn the Heart Trees? Why do they hate all magic that isn't theirs? Also, what artifacts of the Seven does Bloodraven know of?
Again your thoughts turn to the bone in your pack... no, not yet. It would not do for the first things your mother hears upon being returned to life, if she wills it, to be the questions you have yet to ask, of your sworn duty to break the Faith, to humble the Seven themselves. Perhaps something of Lya's systematic nature is finally catching on for the first thing you ask is of the nature of the Seven, the reasons behind their hatred of all magic which they do not grant. "Where do they come from and what do they want, not the corrupt septons, nor the zealous preachers, the gods."

"Andalos," Bloodraven replies dryly. "The first the Old Gods knew of were as raiders in longboats, coming across the Narrow Sea, armed with iron and steel. Then they came to rule, to farm and to preach. I fear there is no grand revelation of the divine I can grant you, your grace, but if you would humor by penchant for supposition there are certain conclusions that can be drawn from the acts of their followers and the timing of their invasion. Valyria was blooming them, an empire of dragons and of sorcery that cared not for their gods or their prowess at war. The Seven Pointed Star speaks of the promised land to the west. More honestly I think it would be to speak of creeping doom in the east. Perhaps the Seven foresaw the end of their chosen people and thus likely even their own demise."

"A warrior trained to be brave will run more readily towards promised reward than away from a foe, that is true," Ser Richard remarks. "And a man with his spirit unbroken makes a finer conqueror."

Out of the corner of your eye you look at the man whom your brother had knighted, charged with the duties of that calling in the name of the Seven-who-are-One. If there is any thread of hesitation still about him here speaking of conspiracy against those very gods, you do not see it.

Bloodraven picks up the thread of his tale. "Knowing what I do now of fiends and their ilk, I suspect something of the tales of demons stalking the hills of Andalos is truth not later embellishment. If that is so then between the slave raids of the Freehold's colonies and the depredations of fiends, the early Andals had no cause to love magic or those who worked it."

"I think we may have more than supposition and ancient texts behind the notion," Dany says slowly,turning to you. "Remember the cursed altar along the Braavosi coast, the one the fool noble unearthed? That would not be so far from Andalos of old, certainly not for a demon who can fly." She smiles, an expression that sits oddly upon a human face. "Time and past time to see Lileath again, I think."

"The succubus whose offspring you... recruited?" The ancient sorcerer does not sound entirely pleased with the notion.

"She has not betrayed us so far," you say, feeling slightly absurd for defending Azema's 'honor'. "Her use has far outweighed any bother she has caused."

"Of course," he agrees. "I only worry that when she chooses to show her colors it will be too late. It is one thing for your enemies to accuse you of consorting with demons and quite another for them to have proof, your grace."

"So what would you have me do, kill her as a preventive measure?" Your question hangs in the air a long moment, the silence making it clear that Bloodraven would have done just that without a moment's hesitation.

Finally he sighs. "Perhaps I am wrong, it has been known to happen on occasion."

Taking that for an end to that topic you then ask if there are any other artifacts of the Seven such as the Chalice he spoke of. You can think of much better use for such things than to cast a misguided curse.

"I do not know of any yet but I am seeking them, just as I keep my eye on their champions when and where I can," he answers.
37. When we made our pact you asked that we end several lines strong in the Faith. Can you elaborate clearly and explicitly what the Old Gods expect us to do and how they expect us to do it? What does the "ending" of a line constitute? Is it killing everyone? Making the entire family barren? Sending males to the Wall and females to the Silent Sisters? Somehow turning all of said families away from the Seven? What would the Old Gods consider to be "humiliating" the Seven?
"Yes," you agree simply. "One last thing, I would know more of what I must do to fulfill my pact. What constitutes ending a House in the eyes of the Old Gods? Killing them all? Sending all them men to the Wall and the women to the Silent Sisters?"

"Not the latter for the Seven would find that pleasing. Have them wed some lesser lording their children to bear his name and it will be enough," he replies, to your mild surprise. "Mistake me not, there are those among the Greendream who wish for nothing less then bloody vengeance, their entrails hung upon Heart Trees as a warning to others and a sign of rage, but in all things there must be limits... even the vengeance of gods."

"And how might the Seven be humbled?" you ask after a moment.

"It would be best not to answer that," Bloodraven replies. "If I speak of specific deeds then you might find yourself beholden to them. Let us see how the Seven Kingdoms look upon the eve of restoration first."
38. Ask of the giants gathering in great numbers at the Fist of the First Men.
For a short while there is silence, then Ser Richard speaks: "What about the giants? Are they trying to dream up some great stone tower at the Fist of the First men?" You suspect he is imagining you somehow ending up in the bad graces of an army of magic-wielding giants and is preparing for the worst.

"Nothing so grand, those days are done," Soft Strider answers. "The giants gather for they have felt the coming Night and wish to choose one among them to go to the Wall and treat with men and be allowed south."

"There will be a small army of giants heading to the Wall soon?" you ask worried.

"Giants are not men, they are not hasty..." She smiles a little. "Even your word for being too quick is too quick." With a shake of the head she finishes. "It will take them years to decide upon their envoy, for he must be brave and cunning both."

"They are scared of the Watch?" Ser Richard asks.

"The Wall," comes the answer, a little hesitantly. "It is a place of ill omen for them." Soft Strider raises one clawed hand. "I do not know why, our songs do not tell of it. Now, you have asked many questions of what was and what is, and in the doing you have made me curious of who you are travelers from the south who bear the raven's blood and sing with a tongue of fire?"
39. Ask of the great Bear Spirit that has been troubling the Crab Men and the Night's Watch both. Is it related to the Old Gods? It seemed to be intimately familiar with the coming Long Night.
"It is good to have companions not only strong but worthy... loyal when the road turns cold and dark..." Soft Strider muses, more to herself than to you. "I admit my heart was heavy seeing you in the company of the Old Bear and his kin."

"What is he?" you ask, seeing your chance for yet another riddle of this land answered. "He claimed to have been held a prisoner by the Enemy...." you trail off.

"He seemed to me an old thing of the Dawn-time, when man and beast were closer, and the dreams of the wild flowed into the thoughts of mortals by the bright of the moon. Whether he was man or bear in his beginning I know not, but now he is both and shapes the flesh of his supplicants in that image..." A great yawn interrupts her, showing strong white teeth, to your carefully hidden amusement. "Time and past time to give in to drowsy slumber," she concludes.
40. Ask of the "Winterborne" and what monsters have become Other-Touched aside from the Peryton you battled. To be clear, this is asking for a comprehensive list of what we're going to be going up against.
From fire to ice your thoughts pass then, for though the peril in the north had receded from your mind somewhat here, guarded beneath root and soil, you will not soon forget it. First you ask what manner of twisted beasts and horrors the Others can bring to bear beyond the lords of winter themselves and their armies of the dead and the dragons you had heard of. Alas to that Bloodraven has no clear answer.

"Their forms are a warped reflection of the world and as life is bewildering in its countless shapes to too are their thralls, still some things call to them: black despair that sees no path forward, hunger on cold winter nights that sees men lower themselves to the basest acts, the sacrifice of light and hope to the ever hungering gloom in the hope of but a breath's more wretched existence... that is how they will see all life before the end."
41. What was the Great Fire that the First Men claimed to be fleeing from when they fled the east? Was it dragons? The Fire God we asked of? Tiamat?
"Do you know aught else of Valyria and its history, its lore..." you begin in earnest, feeling a pang of loss that Lya is not with you that she may share your excitement.

This time the pause is far longer... as dead sits the Last Greenseer upon his throne for almost an hour through before he stirs once more, withered limbs shivering as though with great exertion: "I fear I cannot hand you all the pieces for those who speak loudest do not know and those who remember only whisper. Great was the Winged Fire in days of old and far did they fly from their roosts. Even as their descendants came as far as Dragonstone and Drfitmark to settle and to rule, so too did the wyrms of old hunt men and drove them before them as deer before a wolf-pack. So came men to the sunset shores flotsam upon the storm..."

"So it happened twice," Dany interjects. "The First Men and the Andals all fleeting the heirs of fire in the east. I'm surprised they do not resent us more..." he waves a hand vaguely to the roots that fill the chamber.

"Gods do not think as men do," Bloodraven answers. "Perhaps they do not see the pattern...."

"Or perhaps they know something we do not," your sister counters. "It would not do to... underestimate them." Something unspoken passed between the child an ancient magus.
42. Do the Giants of the North still possess any of these lost arts? Is this how they were able to help build the Wall?
For a short while there is silence, then Ser Richard speaks: "What about the giants? Are they trying to dream up some great stone tower at the Fist of the First men?" You suspect he is imagining you somehow ending up in the bad graces of an army of magic-wielding giants and is preparing for the worst.

"Nothing so grand, those days are done," Soft Strider answers. "The giants gather for they have felt the coming Night and wish to choose one among them to go to the Wall and treat with men and be allowed south."
43. What is the Song? How does it work? What does it take for one to learn to be a Singer? Can one learn to be a Singer? What powers do the Singers have? Does the Song still slumber or has it awoken alongside magic?
"Guard well that path then, Singer of Flame," Soft Strider says, eyes wide in surprise.

"Why do you call me that?" you ask in turn. "I fear that I've little skill in such things."

"More precisely you could not carry a song in a bucket," Dany jests.

For some reason your small guide seems to find that expression very amusing. For the first time you hear her laugh in earnest, the sound bright and brief like a glimpse of the sun through the clouds.

"The Song is the the world and its shaping, not with tools but with the will of a mind that dreams true... magic." She says the last word with faint puzzlement, as though not quite believing you would use something so brief for the concept.
44. Ask Bloodraven to help complete the Fine Sealskin Map of the Lands Beyond the Wall, marking tribes and ruins and especially magical activity like particularly haunted ruins or sealed away magical artifacts that he wouldn't mind us recovering or that he would prefer that we recover before anyone or anything else manages to.
The words send a shiver down your spine as though some cold wind had managed to penetrate even here, and so you move on to your next request, for a map of the Lands of the Far North beyond what the Watch was able offer. You carefully unroll the seal-skin for him to inspect.

He gives a short cough of seeming disgust. "Even worse than when I left. Some of those rivers would be running uphill by their reckoning." So saying he utters a single word in the Old Tongue and the map hovers midair, then another and a point of fire begins to sear fine lines into the map. With a start you realize it is the first time you have ever seen Bloodraven use magic in the flesh, beyond his dreams and visions.
Perhaps ten minutes later he hands it to you, improved beyond human penmanship. From the heart trees to wildling settlements to the paths of wandering tribes, ancient barrows of the forgotten dead and lost fortresses to ever winding paths that mark the comings and goings of mammoths and other large game all are marked. Small notes in the margins speak of the likely peril that might be found in each place as well as the rewards the hardy traveler may gleam.

Gained Legendary Seal-Skin Map of the Far North.

"If you enter any of the places I have marked as likely to hold servants of the Others I ask that you warn me beforehand, lest they react is some unexpected manner."

"Of course," you agree at once, as is only courteous upon receiving such a gift.
45. Of the ruins Beyond the Wall, ask Bloodraven to give a list of ruins that could be explored by beginner adventurers, then a list that could be explored by slightly more powerful adventurers, and lastly the places that can only be safely explored by someone of our own power. Ask for the same information of any places south of the Wall.
Perhaps ten minutes later he hands it to you, improved beyond human penmanship. From the heart trees to wildling settlements to the paths of wandering tribes, ancient barrows of the forgotten dead and lost fortresses to ever winding paths that mark the comings and goings of mammoths and other large game all are marked. Small notes in the margins speak of the likely peril that might be found in each place as well as the rewards the hardy traveler may gleam.

Gained Legendary Seal-Skin Map of the Far North.

"If you enter any of the places I have marked as likely to hold servants of the Others I ask that you warn me beforehand, lest they react is some unexpected manner."

"Of course," you agree at once, as is only courteous upon receiving such a gift.
46. Regarding the weirwood trees, what are they? Where did they come from? Did anyone make them? What magical properties do they have as reagents and as living trees?
"What are the weirwood trees, truly?" Dany asks while you ponder this.

"They are the veins of the Earth and the... seat of the Greenseers, living and dead. More I cannot say, for some secrets are for those who Dream the Greendream alone," Bloodraven answers, though echoes carry behind his words. "If your curiosity would drive you to search on I would recommend caution."

"If your gods forbid it shouldn't you be opposed to the notion entirely?" Ser Richard says, startled into speaking for the first time since you offered greetings.

"You must know something of my life, Ser Knight," Brynden Rivers alone replies. "Would you say it could belong to a priest?"

"And will they not hear you?" Dany presses, intrigued.

"If only they could hear each other's over the din... The drums that call to war and strife are stirring things, but they do not help one's hearing I fear." The words fall sharp from withered lips.
47. What happens if we grow a Heart Tree in Essos? What happens if we grow a Heart Tree beyond this plane?
"Would such passage be posibile even beyond the borders of the world if a Heart Tree could be grown there?"

If your question comes as a surprise you cannot read it upon the ancient lined faced. For almost twenty heart-beats he lies silent staring at things you cannot see, listening for voices you cannot hear. "So long as a tree can grow there a path can be opened, to see and to pass."

"And would such places be seemly to the gods?" you ask, to be sure.

"It would be confusing to some," he admits. Again the smile like a gash across his pale face. "It might do them good to look upon new things for the first time in many an age."
48. Resurrect Rhaella, and ask if we can come to Bloodraven to resurrect Elia and Rhaenys as well (and inquire about what that would cost and what chance we would have with bringing Rhaenys back).
There is no surprise in the near-score pairs of glowing golden eyes, though you can read there trepidation, excitement, and of course, hope. Seven-and-ten of the Children of the Forest join you as you enter the presence of the Last Greenseer one final time, and without a single word they set themselves in a wide circle around you, waiting.

With trembling fingers you draw the bone you took from your mother's grave in Dragonstone and place upon the ground before stepping back. You feel Dany's small hand slipping into yours, then a squeeze of encouragement.

"Lord Bloodraven," you speak at last, glad that your voice does not shake. "Know that if this does not go as I hope I shall not blame you for it. I know that the magics of life can only return the willing. If my mother is satisfied to be wherever her spirits rest then I will be glad for her." The words are perhaps the hardest you have ever spoken, yet speak them you must, for your sake as much as his.

"Wisely spoken, young king," the ancient greenseer replies. "Know that I too hope for your sake that such bitter wisdom is not needed."

For a moment there is silence unbroken by even a single breath. Then softly a song begins to echo through the chamber, in voices pure as a mountain stream, at times deep as the bones of the earth, and at others high an piercing as an eagle's call. At first you think the Children sing, yet they are silent still... and so you understand. It is indeed the singers you hear, but not those who yet walk in flesh, but those who have passed into the trees and the earth, they who dream the Greendream.

Then the ground ripples where you had left the bone like water in a gentle wind, and slowly black earth begins to cover it. You do not know how long the song lasts then... heartbeats, minutes, hours, the words lose all meaning.

A mound of earth rises up before you and then so gradually it seems more like the work of ages than that of a a sculptor's hand it becomes the silhouette of a woman and then a woman in truth, her hair of silver, her dress of simple black silk and her face as familiar as a thousand dreams.

The song trails off into echoes once more, a question and a promise both as silence falls again... to be broken by a single startled breath as the woman... your mother, at last you can think it, opens her eyes and awakes from eight years of death into a world stranger than she could ever imagine.
49. When the Old Gods receive sacrifices, do they consume the soul like Yss does or no? And what do they do with the soul once they consume it? How do they deal with Others and their servants?
@DragonParadox, do the Old Gods "perma-kill" the beings sacrificed to them? Or is it just with the Day of Blood ritual? The Dogai was not, when Vee offered it to a grown Heart Tree, but the Other-Touched Peryton seems to be.
Others are a special case, mostly it's just blood for the blood roots.
Is there any way we can get the Old Gods to eat the cleric's souls this time?
Not really no, for the Old Gods eating a soul means adding it to the collective. They understandably do not want servants of Tiamat in their midst.
Others???
Those they know how to handle from long experience, remember in the really old days they were the same kind of beings.
50. Update the Legendary Map of the Farthest North, and upgrade the maps of the Seven Kingdoms.
"Before all else I have not a question but a request that you play the cartographer again if you've the time for it." So saying you draw forth a case of maps, one depicting all of the Seven Kingdoms from the Wall to Dorne and then maps of its regions taken one by one.

"The North and the Riverlands I can improve with some skill," Brynden Rivers replies. "The first due to the many Godswoods still kept, the second because my eye is oft set upon those lands." Were there any Riverlords here to hear him you have little doubt their blood would turn to ice, but you reign in your curiosity for plans not yet unveiled and ask instead for what lore of the First Men he was able to transcribe from his dreams.
51. Collect all the lore on First Men runes, First Men wards, how the Wall was built, how Winterfell and Runestone was built, Dawn Age history, First Men history, Age of Heroes history, Andal Invasion history, etc.
Rather than answering with words the Last Greenseer motions to a pair of simple chests half hidden amid the tangle of weirwood roots. From the look of them they are new-made by the hand of the Children who yet serve Bloodraven in his vigil. However, as you approach, you notice sharp-edged runes cut into the wood. With a spell drawn from your grimoire the markings shift into legible form: wards against rot and against fire, and beneath that hidden almost too well for even your eye to track are far stronger protections, meant to maim or slay any who would open them without possession of your weirwood staff.

Gained Runelore Trove

"I cannot now recount all that is in those books, nor would it serve much purpose," the ancient mage explains. "However, given your recent exploits, you might enjoy to learn how Rune-craft first began among the First Men, how the Smith stole writing from the Depths."

"The Depths?" you prompt, intrigued, as you take a seat on the same roughly flat stone you had spent so many hours upon during your last meting.

"It was a tale little told when the pact between the First Men and the Children of the Forest was young, and none carried it through the Long Night... at least among mortal kindred," Bloodraven spins his tale, one too ancient for even his sights to witness any more than faint retelling.

When the world was young and those whom history would remember as 'the First Men' yet dwelt in the east, there lived among them a smith, skilled in the shaping of bronze. Sharp swords and bright breastplates he made, but his true passion lay elsewhere. The Smith could make knotwork so fine men would lose themselves staring into it marveling, carvings so fine they were said to reflect the very soul of that which they showed. Yet as is so often the nature of mortal men whose time under the sun is short, he was not content with his artistry. He could offer a warrior a likeness of his beloved to carry into battle, but the words he could not bind in place, for they flew through the air like birds on the wing and would not be bound to fire and earth.

Long did the Smith seek the wisdom of the spirits. The beasts of the land knew each other by touch and smell and taste, by the their calls and the color of their coats. And so the earth was silent. So then trekked did he to the top of the highest mountain where dwelt the great Roc, that from that place he might speak to the wind. Alas that the spirits of the sky were no less well-disposed than those of the land: 'Why keep words in place when you can make new ones?' they asked.

So at last the Smith's eyes turned to the sea, to the lightless depths were dwelt elder things who cared nothing for men save when they would rise on starless nights to drag them beneath the waves. So went did he against the counsel of kith and kin to stand by the shore with offerings of gold, silver, and bronze. On the ninth night something rose to meet him, some old and nameless Thing filled with otherworldly wisdom and hungry not for flesh but knowledge. It had heard of the Smith's travels and wished to add his lore to its own.

Thus the man offered the monster a game of riddles, for he knew in its great pride the creature could not resist. Secrets were spoken then such as never had been before and never will be upon the face of the world as each strove to outdo the other in hidden lore, but of all of them men remember only the last riddle the smith posed:

This thing all things devours;
Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;
Grinds hard stones to dust
Even bronze to its gullets lost
Slays king, ruins town,
And beats mountain down.
It is said that waters thrashed in agony and the stones wept blood at the fel names the monster stoke trying to guess what fiend might be mighty enough to do all those deeds, for it knew not time so could not name it. For his prize the smith took the art of runecraft: the lesser runes by which men may know each other or send messages to those far off, and the greater by which great works of art and artifice can be wrought.

For all the runes the Smith learned from the Monster and changed then to his liking and the use of his people, none were as mighty as the rune he crafted of his own skill: that of time by which walls could endure an age only to be sundered in an instant, if one knew the way of it.

"How much of that is true and how much allegory?" you ask once Bloodraven had finished speaking.

"Allegory can also be truth of a sort," he again waves a hand towards the lore he had assembled. "I can say for certain that none of that is in any manner tainted, though perhaps its eldest principles began thus. It would go a long way to explaining where the First Men found lore that could contain and reshape divine. After all, the gods themselves would be hesitant to share such lore."

So Dany will have her armor at last, you think, satisfied and grateful to whatever craftsman first set runes to stone and bronze, whoever he may have been.
52. With the revival of the petrified Tree of the Dawn Age through a truly staggering amount of blood sacrifice, we were considering the idea of bringing your sanctuary from the Farthest Norths to its roots instead in an attempt to safeguard you against the Others and to have you closer at hand that we might commune more freely with you. Can it be done?
"I have been considering what use to put the ancient weirwood tree I found so near the seat of my power, gathering sacrifices far in excess for what would be needed to raise heart-tree from a sapling. There are many things it might be used for, to help the people of the Deep learn each other's tongues for trade and the sharing of lore, to ward away dark spirits that would steal their minds, but as I a stand here before you bound in vigil at the ends of the earth I cannot help but wonder would not your wisdom and your power be better served in the lands of men? Would you not be..." You hesitate a moment under the ancient sorcerer's half-bling gaze. "Would you not be safer guarded by all the champions and all the armies I have gathered to my banner, not here upon the Enemy's doorstop?"

Rather than be offended, as you feared he might have been, Bloodraven gives a long tired sigh so soft you might have missed it ere your senses not as sharp as they are now. "It has been a very long time young king since any have cared for my safety and I thank you for the concern, but here I must stay to ward against the Powers in the North, to counter their pawns and keep the wildlings from being consumed even ere next winter's passing..."

"I already pledged to carry all men from these lands," you remind him, the double meaning clear in your words, that you count him a man also whatever oaths he has sworn and sacrifices he has made.

"Aye, all men," he replies seemingly looking beyond you. "Alas that there are other things in these lands which need guarding, places of power and ancient barrows, slumbering beasts from when the world was young. I cannot come south..."

As you nod in understanding however he interrupts you: "However, a path can be opened if one has the strength and skill to do it. The roots of the weirwods run deeper than one might think and in no small part thanks to your aid farther also. To make from a passage of spirit to one of flesh would be a mighty deed, though not one beyond your grasp I think."

"A path would run both ways," you muse aloud. "It would circumvent the Wall and the wards bound into it, a risk for certain but I have little mind to cower behind the work of the ancients."
53. What ways are there to improve upon the Fungus Forge, get stronger creatures, get a wider variety of templates, etc?
OOC: There is nothing special Bloodraven can tell you about the flesh forge. There has never been its like before, so you will have to experiment.
54. Have Soft Strider go see if she can recruit more Children of the Forest to come to Sorcerer's Deep
Of the Children of the Forest you speak of then, their place in your kingdom and your hope of growing their numbers with sorcery and wishcraft. All these Bloodraven found good for in the long years he has been bond to the tree he had come to appreciate their unwavering service even in the face of a final night for their people. Perhaps it is better that none of those who remain wish to make the journey south, that the last Greenseer have the company of living thinking beings, not just the voices of the Gods calling forever in this mind. Yet even as the thought comes to you another arises: bold yes, but boldness has served you in good stead these past years:
55. Any info on the Ifequevron?
As for the Ifequevron, Leaf will talk to you about that once you are done here.
56. Could we potentially have our Runestaff of the Old Gods upgraded now that we are stronger with access to higher circles of magic?
"That is my thought also, the chance to more easily join our strength and strike at the Foe where it thinks itself safe is no small thing. The staff you bear is certainly useful but limited in scope."

"Could that be further empowered," you ask almost idly, still considering the implications of the previous suggestion.

"It might, but I would have to have a hand in it," Bloodraven replies. "It is as much my work as as the gods', and I did not make it to bend easily to the will of another enchanter, lest some foe twist it from its purpose. I cannot pledge when I might have the time for such a working, though the price in the blood of slain foes should be easy enough for you to pay I would wager."
57. What of the Heart of Winter and what potential it might have as a sacrifice?
"What of sacrifice of a more uncommon kind, the remains of those who no longer bleed?" you continue. "What of the icy heart of the twisted dragon? Might it be used to lay some curse upon its masters as it is said the Hungry Wolf once did upon the Andals?"

"A curse..." Bloodraven trails off, listening to voices only he can hear. Finally he shakes his head: "Too small a token for such magic, akin to using a singe pebble to sunder a mountain. However, it is my thought that it might be used another way." A calculating gleam shines in his eye: "As bait. Should it seem unguarded, an easy path to working evil in the south where they have little strength, then Winter's servants might be tempted into reaching far past what they may grasp."
"An interesting idea," you allow after some thought. "However there are other uses one could put it to which do not risk stirring the Others from their slumber before time. I had thought to sell it to the spirits of air and stone in their war against the efreeti who hold mastery of fire. It seems a fitting weapon for such a task, and besides being paid I shall sleep easier knowing that the heart was taken beyond the boundaries of this world."

"A fair thought," Bloodraven allows. Having grown more used to guessing the thoughts and emotions behind his lined ancient countenance, you read upon them fleeting surprise that you do not wish to take the most audacious thought.
58. We encountered a Winter Hag in Lannisport, and from her we learned of tombs of the Others scattered throughout Westeros south of the Wall. What can you tell us about them? How might they be found and rooted out?
"I wished to ask you of something I learned in Lannisport..."

"Forgive an old schemer's curiosity, Your Grace, but what did Tywin Lannister finally do that drove you to respond by rotting half his docks and a third of the ships at anchor, no less?" Bloodraven interrupts. "Something to do with Essos and trade I heard, but my ears are yet few east of the Narrow Sea."

You gladly indulge the interest, laying out the Lannister plan, such that you could guess it: attacking Tyroshi trade interests then framing you for the deed to cause unrest in the city, perhaps opening it to further infiltration or some other attack.

"Ironic, though not unfitting that you would react more poorly to a threat to your coffers than an armed invasion," Brynden Rivers says, giving another of his short, painful laughs.

"Why should I have reacted poorly to an attack that handed me ships and the crew to man them ready for the taking, with but a handful of spells and an offer of clemency?" you counter just as lightly, though to be honest you fear a second fleet not so much of the threat it poses as because another triumph of that caliber would likely spawn spontaneous uprisings in your favor, either forcing your hand to move west too soon or letting men flying your banners die.

Shaking off the grim thought you return to the matter at hand, the winter-souled hag who had been awoken from her tomb by the Westerling girl. You would have every cause to hunt such places, not only for the treasures they might hold, but for the threat any denizens may pose, now or when Winter is finally upon the world.

"Such places would be warded against my sight most of all," the ancient sorcerer replies. "However, I can make a fair guess as to where they might be found. Seek out the highest mountains and the deepest caverns, those corners of the world scorned by man and beast alike... Dalla of the Sons of the Mist knows of some from the tales the clansmen speak when the fire burns low on cold winter nights. Perhaps there are others hermits, outcasts, hedge witches who know more."

"Perhaps they even come to know too much," you sigh. "The thought of foolish treasure hunters or madman entering such fastnesses of the Great Other leaves a bitter taste in my mouth."

"I have thrice now found myself set against such pawns, though each time I was able to set a likely hero into their path seeking fame, glory or riches," Bloodraven agrees.

"You do not think much of heroes," you note, tone carefully neutral.

"The true heroes are not the ones to slay the monster, but the ones who build a better world upon its corpse." His shoulders twitch in what might have been an attempt at a shrug, but beneath his seeming nonchalance you spy for a fleeting instant the shadow of old pain. Daemon Blackfyre was a hero to many, a knight at three-and-ten, comely of face and lordly of bearing, even dying a hero's death where his slayer had to reign as Hand and hear for many years the slings and curses of highborn and low.
59. What is the Realm of the Others where the great bear spirit was trapped. What is the nature of the realm, the rules it follows, and how one might enter or exit, or be trapped? What creatures haunt such a place?
"What is the realm of the Others?" you quickly change the subject. "What rules does it follow and what precisely dwells within?"

"Were you to travel by foot north from this cave you would find forests thinning to cold brush, land, and hardy grasses, to lichen-covered stone and finally to bare rock and crushing ice. Were you then to press on against every instinct of mind and soul you would find yourself in a realms that is both part of the world and yet heavy with the hateful dreams of the thing the priests of R'hllor call the Great Others. Whether it is one thing or many, or even if such distinctions matter to it I cannot say, but there have been some bold enough to make the journey in the past and fortunate enough to return. Thus I can share with you some advice on how you may survive there."

"I'm not planning a journey anytime soon, " you assure him.

Bloodraven nods in acknowledgement but continues in the same even half-whisper he uses to spare his ravaged voice: "Light no fires upon the ice, but scrape first to stone beneath. Drink no water from the icefields that has not been brought to a rolling boil thrice. Do not run over those cursed fields without a weirwood staff to guide your path by striking holes through the ice to see if there is solid ground, raging water, or lightless caverns beneath "

"No lesser staff?" you question. "Was that the reason for this..." you motion towards the token of your pledge to the Old Gods.

"One of the reasons," he replies. "Not the first in my mind, but certainly not the last."

"What might one find in the Farthest North in the dreams of the Other?" you ask rather than questioning what his other motives may.

"There are said to be cities half buried in the ice where the dead walk, going about the hollow half-understood motions of life, cliffs upon which the wind wails like the screams of the dying, and the damned vaults filled the treasures of the Dawn Age guarded by great wyrms of ice. How far the ice goes or what lies beyond it none know, for no living traveler has reached the end of it."

"If it is a dream then perhaps it has no end," you offer.

"Half a dream, and the world we stand on is a bounded sphere as the sages of old discovered long ago," Bloodraven replies gravely. "For all the dreadful power of the Enemy it would not do to forget that this is now the world of men and what mortal wisdom tells us of it."
60. What is the Great Other?
Were you then to press on against every instinct of mind and soul you would find yourself in a realm that is both part of the world and yet heavy with the hateful dreams of the thing the priests of R'hllor call the Great Others. Whether it is one thing or many, or even if such distinctions matter to it I cannot say, but there have been some bold enough to make the journey in the past and fortunate enough to return. Thus I can share with you some advice on how you may survive there.
61. Given that a major tenant of his faith is the war against the Great Other, what can you tell us about R'hllor? Was he perhaps the "fire to the east" the First Men fled from?
For a time there is silence as each of you ponder the truths you have learned and all the many questions still yet to be answered: "What do you know of R'hllor the Red, whose priests so boldly proclaim him a foe to the Great Other, the light against the darkness?"

"Here the gods know little and visions serve me less for the power of the Red God is in the east, his temples guarded against prying eyes of birds and beasts," Brynden Rivers replies slowly. "Yet when I was young I learned something of their ways and powers, of their god's flame behind the shrouds of smoke cunningly wrought. He is not and never has been a kindly power, but he is cunning and patient, knowing much of the secrets of men's hearts that He might tempt even those of honest and kindly temperament. Make allies with his faithful if you must, but swear no pacts to that one."
62. What do you know of the flaming sword Lightbringer and Azor Ahai, the man the Red Priests claim drove back the Long Night? What do you know of the Last Hero? Were Azor Ahai and the Last Hero the same person?
"What of Azor Ahai and the sword Lightbringer, then? Was he the Last Hero by another name?" you probe, though knowing that you spoke more to the sorcerer than the voice of the Gods, for they knew little of Essos and its people.

"Another very... suggestive name," comes the confirmation. "The Last Hero, whose proper name not even the songs of the Children recall, is known to men as a great hero, yes, but also as the last of that breed. The tale speaks of a world diminished. A great hero faced a great evil, and in the end both passed into legend never to return. By contrast Azor Ahai is said to return, to rally the faithful, and bear the Lord of Light's flame in the time of great need."

"The evil did not pass from the world," you point out. "We are faced with it even now."

"Of course not, because it is deathless where men are mortal." The lines upon his face deepen as he ponders the matter. "It seems to me that the tale of Azor Ahai, the hero who is fated return to save the world of men again in its darkest hour, bespeaks of nothing but reassurance to an old fear. Of that fear did the Faith of the Red God forge a tool, promising salvation for obedience. To hear those words from a slaver's mouth does not fill me with confidence."

"These thoughts do not run far from mine. Let us speak then of other hopefully more kindly powers," you continue.
63. Who is Father Storm, and what the Old Gods know of him? What can we expect given his connection to Ysilla Royce who is bound to him and Mya Stone who is born of that divine lineage and who is now in our service?
And so you speak of what Waymar was able to tell you of Father Sky, of his sister Ysilla's link to something that may have been the god, even of Mya Stone in whose veins might flow Elenei's blood.

"The Greenseers of old did not care much of the gods they supplanted, and so of Father Sky and Mother Earth I can tell you but a little," comes the reply. "They seemed kindly and cruel by turn, and each in their own way concerned with shows of strength and cunning, the patrons of a warrior people, though without the zeal the Andals would later bring to the task. There is precious little chance to find any lore of them through most of the Seven Kingdoms, for the dominion of first the Old Gods then the New would have worn down their standing stones and seen their tales lost. The Sistermen alone of all the First Men did not come to worship before Heart Trees, and so perhaps upon that island you may find more of these eldest gods of men."

"Do the Old Gods count them foes?" you ask, cautiously.

"The Gods, just as the Singers, cared little for what the newcomers worshiped, and far more for the sharpness of their axes upon root and limb," the ancient seer replies. "Should you find some remnant of them and wish to make some use of it I wish you good fortune, Your Grace."
64. Update Bloodraven on Ymeri activity in the Far North, and ask what other powerful spirits and gods he's noticed meddling in the Farthest North.
The matter settled you move on to speaking of Ymeri's pawn upon the Frozen Shore explaining what you have found and what you had learned from your new subjects. While Bloodraven found the desecration troubling he admits to preferring such newcomers over service to the Others. "Their power is faint, their grip feeble, but yes there have been other spirits seeking worship among the Free Folk, mostly fey things though none strong enough to consecrate a sorcerer priest as this Ymeri was."
64. Update Bloodraven on the discoveries in Sothoryos and about Lolth and the Underdark. Ask about the passages he's aware of, excluding the one in Old Town.
For a time your role and Bloodraven's are reversed as you recount to him what you learned in Sothoryos, of the tyrants of the jungle and the strange people who dwell in their shadow, of the Serpent-kin whom you reunited with their god, and finally of Venthar and its grim portents. You speak of the lightless passages winding down through the black stone until they opened into some stygian realm where the dark-hearted builders of the city likely still dwell to this day.

"The ice, the seas, the very ground beneath our feet..." Bloodraven sighs. "Sometimes I wonder how men managed to spread over so much of this world and make it ours with all the horrors waiting in the shadows."

"Shall I conjure you a mirror then, my lord?" you ask, your tone light, though the thought behind it is in deadly earnest. "Bold warriors and wise sages, warlords and statesmen fill the pages of history beyond the scholars' count. Men are not weak, we are not prey to inexorable fate, nor puppets of some greater power."

"Worry not, I was merely making an observation, not falling into despair." The Last Greenseer shakes his head, the gesture accompanied by a soft creak of the roots behind him. "For all my vices that is not one to my taste."
 
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We're travelling supernaturally fast and it's still looking like it will take days. We're not guaranteed a guide out of here (so it might take even longer going back), and we still need a day to negotiate with Castle Black. We're actually tighter on time that we're used to, because we have to account for time for the return trip (we're used to just teleporting home).
We plan on Windwalking back, which is nearly the same in terms of travel-time.
 
Did you...not read the advice given by our guide about how the wind is the domain of our enemies?
Nothing new.
People of the Dark and Air is a name for the Winter Fey, IIRC.
I still do not intend to let that stop us.
We are a dragon and the sky is ours.

Edit: It was Queen of Air and Darkness, for one of the higher winter-fey.
 
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If obsidian has some sort of bonus damage effect on hordes of lesser other fodder, could some sort of tiny bladed obsidian inset-effect be added to steel armour that does 1 damage ( + 1d4(/6) to other-undead )on any grapplers? Or whatever obsidian does'

Or would that mess with the armour too much? I mean, lya can fabricate mastercrafted adamantium, so magically enhanced craft skills mean that it might be handwaveable

Inlays/inset spaces into the armour and then obsidian insets to put in there sound useful.
 
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If obsidian has some sort of bonus damage effect on hordes of lesser other fodder, could some sort of tiny bladed obsidian inset-effect be added to steel armour that does 1 damage ( + 1d4(/6) to other-undead )on any grapplers? Or whatever obsidian does'

Or would that mess with the armour too much? I mean, lya can fabricate mastercrafted adamantium, so magically enhanced craft skills mean that it might be handwaveable

Inlays/inset spaces into the armour and then obsidian insets to put in there sound useful.
As far as we know it has no special effect against the hordes of frost-zombies. Fire works best there.
Just against the Others.
 
[X] Richard guards us for the first 2 hours, then Viserys and Dany for the next 2

And @Artemis1992 no offense, but looking at the list of questions we have, and considering both travel-time and fact that we'll have a very fragile passenger with us so we'll have to be very fucking careful to not have any encounters that may kill her again...
No encounters, pls.
It's better to have a comprehensive and a complete answer to every question that is on the list, than getting, say, only a half of them, because of time constraints.
The salt will flood the thread.

We'll have our fill of encounters soon enough one way or another.
 
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@DragonParadox, does the Child of the Forest have any details on what precisely the weapon they forged was? Because whatever that is, it sounds like a major key for beating back the Long Night.

Is it Lightbringer?

... Are Lightbringer and Dawn the same blade?
Seeing the power of Night waxing men came to beg aid of the Children, but the Dreamers had foreseen that it was not yet the time and so they called for patience, yet patience is not in the nature of man.

Patience is needed more than a fancy sword.
 
After another moment of back and forth your sister answers: "Yes, the name we would most commonly use for their ilk was once a means to mask against such spying, but they have long since learned to listen to the timbre in which it is said."

Just to check, can we call them 'those undead blue skinned cousin fuckers up in the hiils' or will they guess that one too?
 
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