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

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Tomcost said:
You know, we need to find a term for sacrificing corpses now. If sacrifice to the Old Gods means becoming fertilizer, would being fed to mushroom leshy be "Thrown into the compost pile"?
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Artemis1992 said:
I hope they are getting recycled into grafts or more plant-minions.
Recycling is a nice and positive term.
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The random corpses of our enemies being converted into more Leshies? Yes please.

But not the more valuable corpses. Those shall be looted for trophies and/or crafting materials.
 
Duesal said:
The random corpses of our enemies being converted into more Leshies? Yes please.

But not the more valuable corpses. Those shall be looted for trophies and/or crafting materials.
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Well, the Fungus said they could make good stuff from the corpses of things that should not be, so I say we should take a close look at the new fleshforge and its expected products and then decide case-by-case.

Especially evil Outsiders might be an interesting case since working directly from them is somewhat dangerous, as the Reaver-Eye or corrupting grafts show, so turning those reliably into something nice seems like a good deal.

Edit: But Dany still has dibs on anything Tiamat-related.
 
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Artemis1992 said:
Well, the Fungus said they could make good stuff from the corpses of things that should not be, so I say we should take a close look at the new fleshforge and its expected products and then decide case-by-case.

Especially evil Outsiders might be an interesting case since working directly from them is somewhat dangerous, as the Reaver-Eye or corrupting grafts show, so turning those reliably into something nice seems like a good deal.
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Undead are obvious candidates, but also any Aberrations we capture.

The Mindflayers had better watch out when the war against them picks up in earnest. Our patron gods will be competing to gobble them up for sacrifices.
 
I want a Zen Garden with a Lotus Leshy taking care of it. It would be so awesome to have an interlude of some baby adventurer going there for answers and finding illumination.
 
[X] Diomedon

Though we really should contact Gerald to start preparing it won't hurt us to have them ready even if they aren't needed yet.
 
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Interlude CCXIX: By Chains of Fire Freed
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    • By Chains of Fire Freed​

    Twenty-First Day of the First Month 293 AC

    Bloodstone did not look haunted, or even particularly bloody as the largest of the Queen Rhaella's boats approached shore amidst the cries of seabirds. Beyond the wide sandy beech lay a tangle of dark green shrubbery, broken up by a handful of game trails which were likely also used by the odd ship's crew coming ashore for repairs, or, knowing these waters, more nefarious purposes.

    Indeed Valaena was almost willing to bet that the most uncanny thing in a hundred miles was the great galleass' false-gull scout losing himself among its supposed 'kin', unless of course one counted the inhabitants of the boat. What was stranger—a witch bearing steel, a woman not born of flesh and blood, or a man with a bull's head begotten of the arts of demons? That would make a good riddle, actually, she thought. Perhaps when I'm old and wise I'll ask that of my apprentices, and come up with reasons why every reason could be right or wrong.

    The young woman's musings of the far and distant future were interrupted by the sight of something which most certainly did not belong on this isle... a thin stream of smoke rising from a spot not far from the broken shell of King Daemon's Keep. "Look there!" she called.

    "Maybe slavers," Argo grunted, the way his hand settled on the haft of his axe leaving no ambiguity about the fate he had planned for any slavers he would happen to find. In that at least the minotaurs shared the history of many of the people of Sorcerer's Deep.

    "They'd have to be the dumbest slavers that ever took to the sea for not dousing the fire," Bronn countered. "It's not like that is particularly subtle or hard to spot," he motioned to the enormous bulk of the Rhaella proudly flying the black and crimson banner of the king.

    "You would think such a show of force would make anyone cautious," Valaena mused aloud, pretending to be too caught up in her thoughts to notice the sellsword offering a hand to help her out of the boat.

    Quite apart from the troubles of giving any sort of signs that she would play the part of the lady to his knight would cause, the young Velaryon found the sense that her heritage did not define her here rather... liberating. What she did, and not who she had been born, would make or break her hopes this day.

    ***​

    The four companions moved through the bushes and up the hilly incline to the old keep with as much, or as little, stealth as they could manage, reasoning that they were not here to meddle with other visitors the island... unfortunately said visitors were of a different mind.

    "Ware!" Mercy shouted, pulling Valaena aside just as something, no, someone rushed out from the bushes. She caught the smell of stale sweat and old rum before she saw her attacker.

    Strange and pitiful all at once he seemed, stringy blond hair tangled with seaweed and garbed in little more than dripping rags as he held a rusty dagger aloft and babbled, "Come to see the ruin you've brought?"

    The sellsword was the first to recover. "Shut the fuck up and I might not carve the tongue from your head!"

    The man did not seem to hear, his eyes still fixed on Valaena even as she drew her chain with skill born as much of the ensorcerelled weapon as of her own hands.

    "Whore!" he shouted, and there was an odd echo to it, as though more than one person was speaking.

    Only then did Valaena notice that his eyes were pure white under the tangle of his hair... white and glowing.


    "He's possessed!" Mercy called out even as her hands moved though the complex gestures of spellwork, sending the man tumbling to the ground on a patch of new-made ice. "We have to get our amulets on him..."

    "Fuck that!" Bronn answered, silvered sword already moving through the air quick as a striking serpent carving into the man's back.

    "He might have answers!" Valaena shouted, back casting her chain not to rip and tear but bind. To her faint surprise the dark spirit that dwelt within the steel did not struggle against her, and it was good that it was so, for moving with strength and speed that belied his gaunt frame and grievous wound the man almost got to his feet hissing and spitting.

    Then he want limp... cold mist flowing from his mouth and nose rising into a swirling pillar amidst which only pinpricks of burnt orange light could be seen.

    There was no hesitation in the young sorceress' thoughts, not even the notion of there being a choice to stand or fight, only words of power, words of fire bound to helforged steel as a blazing whip. A surge of satisfaction filled her as she saw the dark spirit flinch, as she heard it scream. The chill of its presence was as nothing besides the power in her blood.

    "Witch!" the wraith hissed, taking on a gruesome man-like shape, the skin peeled from his face and nails hammered into his eyes. "That won't keep you from your fate!"

    The sound seemed to be trying to claw its way inside her head, blind fear beyond sense, beyond all reason, threatened to swallow her, but she was no child playing at war, nor was she the common sort of warrior. A Velaryon born of the blood that had dared horrors the world over, that had tamed and ridden dragons in days of old. What had she to fear from tattered maddened shades?

    With a bellow of rage Argo's axe fell, cleaving deep into the soft earth, but seemingly leaving the specter unharmed. Not so Bronn's blow. The silver burned brighter as it parted insubstantial flesh. Alas that Mercy's hand alight with the light of life could not touch the foe... but such was not needed.

    It seemed to Valaena Velaryon then as though the world slowed, as though she had all the time in the world, and so of course her blow was perfectly balanced as it wrapped around the wraith's neck, her spell uttered as well as she had her done in her lessons. It burned like tinder to the flame, cursing and screeching.

    "Is it g...gone?" Damn it, now her voice shook.

    "Good fight!" Argo called, moving as if to slap her on the back, before stopping himself sheepishly.

    "A lost spirit is not so lightly put to rest," Mercy said soberly as she reached out to heal the still bleeding sailor. "Let us see what this one can teach us."

    Valaena knew she should have been worried or upset or something besides 'unable to stop smiling like a lunatic'. She did not care.

    OOC: That was a hell of a fight. It was like the dice wanted drama to give the PoV character the finishing blow on a crit.
     
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    • They got to kill something! With the promise of killing more things! :D

    @DragonParadox, any shot of any of them leveling up? Mainly Valaena since Bronn and Argo are higher-leveled, and Mercy's progression is abnormal.
     
    I hate to say it, but Spellstrike only works on touch-range spells, not Burning Hands and she hasn't unlocked the ability to make her weapon temporarily Flaming yet.
    How did Valaena do that?
     
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    Also.
    DragonParadox said:
    "He's possessed!" Mercy called out even as her hands moved though the complex gestures of spellwork, sending the man tumbling to the ground on a patch of new-made ice. "We have to get our amulets on him..."

    "Fuck that!" Bronn answered, silvered sword already moving through the air quick as a striking serpent carving into the man's back.
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    Bronn deserves a raise for putting an end to Mercy's horrible idea of taking off their Amulets of PfE while fighting possessing specters all to save a random sailor. You want him saved? Fine. Don't compromise yourself in the process. :facepalm:
     
    add a couple extra pfe amulets to our loadout? TNE wants to sell them in emergencies, we know they can be broken, and random people we find during quests could sometimes use them.
     
    I love Valaena. She's just great. Already ruminating on having apprentices of her own, smiling like a lunatic at fighting a specter and winning. 10/10, would kidnap again.
     
    Put it on sailor, interrogate him, knock out and tie up and put sonewhere safe and watched (they have so many mooks for the task)! Take back amulet. Continue.

    What we should have done in Lys.
     
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