A Sword Without a Hilt: A Song of Ice and Fire/D&D 3.5 Crossover
- Thread starter DragonParadox
- Start date
-
- Tags
- a song of ice and fire a sword without a hilt d&d 3.5 dungeons & dragons 100% high octane dragon fuel ave corvidae battle action dragon diplomacy best sister bureaucromancy delicious soul-stuff dragon dreams come true dragon ta'veren greatest uncle hubris is a coward's word in defiance of gods and men mammon's folly mutually assured mage's disjunction qm murderhobo top tier coatl
Goldfish
Friendly Spider-Fish Abomination
- Location
- Formerly of the Far Realm
That's what I meant. As you can see from my ode to OCD, there were quite a few buffs used initially that had a minute/level duration. Many of those were from our prepared casters and can't be recast right now.
AntaeusTheGiant
Child of Gaea
- Location
- Lawrence, KS
[X] Goldfish
edit: In future, perhaps have a Herald to accompany us to engage rabble and others in conversation while we do important stuff?
edit: In future, perhaps have a Herald to accompany us to engage rabble and others in conversation while we do important stuff?
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- Location
- being near locations is my passion.
@DragonParadox There's a lot of votes for Goldfish and das_slash's is the same except without tactics, is it too late for an update? 
Night guys see you in the morning with the wrap up
AntaeusTheGiant
Child of Gaea
- Location
- Lawrence, KS
@DragonParadox There's a lot of votes for Goldfish and das_slash's is the same except without tactics, is it too late for an update?
Isn't it, like, 2am there or something?
@DragonParadox There's a lot of votes for Goldfish and das_slash's is the same except without tactics, is it too late for an update?
Unfortunately yes. It's just past midnight for me.
Canon Omake: Cackle
- Location
- France
Omake: Cackle
"I'm too old for this mess," groused Alun. Again, everyone ignored him. No respect for their elders! Well, to be fair, they might not have heard him with all the screaming. He could barely hear himself speak, so expecting the legionnaires all around him to manage it might be a little much. And they had those Gods-damned helmets, too! His own chafed terribly against his bald patch, and theirs looked even thicker and covered their ears. Yes, that must be it.
He certainly wasn't going deaf and being ignored by the young fools!
"Passion feeds the flames." Mistress Teana's words rang once again in his memory. He had not truly understood until that night when the King himself awakened his magic, but now... His snarl became a savage grin as he forced himself upright again and unleashed his own flame into the press, over the shields of the legionnaires in the front line.
The din of spears on shields and roaring officers changed slightly, and three Unsullied burned. He only saw one collapse before he was was pushed down by the legionnaire behind him as something crashed right where his head had been. He waited a second to still his heart (and certainly not to catch his breath) before blasting them again, and again, and hunkering down for a minute until that damnable archer was killed, and roasting them again...
Slowly they advanced. Officers shouted orders, men drank potions and the faces of their enemies changed, but still they advanced. Alun felt his back bruise and his shoulder twist, but he didn't fall. Twice arrows got through the shields of the squad surrounding him, and twice they failed to breach the sorcery that served as his plate. He wouldn't fall today! He had survived bandits, shipwrecks, plague, and both his wives! Old Tree's gnarly roots, he wielded dragonfire! His was the flame of Valyria, and while his heart beat blood through his veins fire would flow from his fingers. He would live forever!
He advanced. His blood's fire lashed out when they were opposed, and he didn't let himself tire when they had to run (thanking that shoeless Essosi for her healing once again - he could never have kept up with the soldiers if he still had that damnable limp!). Still, he wasn't thirty any longer. He was huffing when they stopped, and had to take a breather for a second before burning whatever had decided to stop them this time.
And thank the Gods that he had. When he raised his head over the shieldwall to burn the latest group of Unsullied that had managed to mobilise within Tyrosh's dark streets, he saw something flash in the edge of his vision. Then a soldier in the front line suddenly turned and struck the man next to him, and Unsullied were somehow advancing against them. Alun let out a pained grunt as someone took a step back and pushed him into the armored woman behind him, but managed to slip one of his last scrolls from his pouch. He was about to try to put their frontline to sleep when he saw it again, flashing by over their heads.
On a hunch, Alun threw fire upwards instead, trusting the legionnaires to reestablish their formation despite the traitor's interference.
That was no bird!
He saw a flying blood-red maw, fangs as long as his thumb on a body barely twice as long, and horns that were almost blades.
The lore shared with Scholarum initiates spoke of these things: lesser daemons that could twist the mind and fly unseen, predators that shrugged off blade and flame alike and whose flesh healed between assaults. Fighting them required spells, patience, cleverness and luck. Teana herself had spoken of these things, and of the calm concentration necessary to cast spells while they harried you and flew by faster than a galloping horse.
But this he held from the King's own mouth: there was a time for temperance, for forethought, for the refusal of the weaknesses that made Dragons beasts to be enslaved by the Valyrians of old. And there was a time for rage, for wrath to drive the flames ever hotter!
"Burn!" He shouted, risking one of his few true spells against it. He called, and fire answered.
The night's first daemon fell screaming, its corpse crushed by the Legion's boots. He would face more before this was all over, and he would be needing his healing concoctions. But he would live, and grow in dreams and power both - for he had slain with fire wielded in wrath, and thought as a Dragon does.
"I'm too old for this mess," groused Alun. Again, everyone ignored him. No respect for their elders! Well, to be fair, they might not have heard him with all the screaming. He could barely hear himself speak, so expecting the legionnaires all around him to manage it might be a little much. And they had those Gods-damned helmets, too! His own chafed terribly against his bald patch, and theirs looked even thicker and covered their ears. Yes, that must be it.
He certainly wasn't going deaf and being ignored by the young fools!
"Passion feeds the flames." Mistress Teana's words rang once again in his memory. He had not truly understood until that night when the King himself awakened his magic, but now... His snarl became a savage grin as he forced himself upright again and unleashed his own flame into the press, over the shields of the legionnaires in the front line.
The din of spears on shields and roaring officers changed slightly, and three Unsullied burned. He only saw one collapse before he was was pushed down by the legionnaire behind him as something crashed right where his head had been. He waited a second to still his heart (and certainly not to catch his breath) before blasting them again, and again, and hunkering down for a minute until that damnable archer was killed, and roasting them again...
Slowly they advanced. Officers shouted orders, men drank potions and the faces of their enemies changed, but still they advanced. Alun felt his back bruise and his shoulder twist, but he didn't fall. Twice arrows got through the shields of the squad surrounding him, and twice they failed to breach the sorcery that served as his plate. He wouldn't fall today! He had survived bandits, shipwrecks, plague, and both his wives! Old Tree's gnarly roots, he wielded dragonfire! His was the flame of Valyria, and while his heart beat blood through his veins fire would flow from his fingers. He would live forever!
He advanced. His blood's fire lashed out when they were opposed, and he didn't let himself tire when they had to run (thanking that shoeless Essosi for her healing once again - he could never have kept up with the soldiers if he still had that damnable limp!). Still, he wasn't thirty any longer. He was huffing when they stopped, and had to take a breather for a second before burning whatever had decided to stop them this time.
And thank the Gods that he had. When he raised his head over the shieldwall to burn the latest group of Unsullied that had managed to mobilise within Tyrosh's dark streets, he saw something flash in the edge of his vision. Then a soldier in the front line suddenly turned and struck the man next to him, and Unsullied were somehow advancing against them. Alun let out a pained grunt as someone took a step back and pushed him into the armored woman behind him, but managed to slip one of his last scrolls from his pouch. He was about to try to put their frontline to sleep when he saw it again, flashing by over their heads.
On a hunch, Alun threw fire upwards instead, trusting the legionnaires to reestablish their formation despite the traitor's interference.
That was no bird!
He saw a flying blood-red maw, fangs as long as his thumb on a body barely twice as long, and horns that were almost blades.
The lore shared with Scholarum initiates spoke of these things: lesser daemons that could twist the mind and fly unseen, predators that shrugged off blade and flame alike and whose flesh healed between assaults. Fighting them required spells, patience, cleverness and luck. Teana herself had spoken of these things, and of the calm concentration necessary to cast spells while they harried you and flew by faster than a galloping horse.
But this he held from the King's own mouth: there was a time for temperance, for forethought, for the refusal of the weaknesses that made Dragons beasts to be enslaved by the Valyrians of old. And there was a time for rage, for wrath to drive the flames ever hotter!
"Burn!" He shouted, risking one of his few true spells against it. He called, and fire answered.
The night's first daemon fell screaming, its corpse crushed by the Legion's boots. He would face more before this was all over, and he would be needing his healing concoctions. But he would live, and grow in dreams and power both - for he had slain with fire wielded in wrath, and thought as a Dragon does.
So this is an old Dragonseed who joined the Scholarum and awoke his powers as a Sorcerer, and who participated in the battle. Rolling high for damage he can slay a Cacodaemon with a single spell, despite its fire resistance (which is what happened here).
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- Location
- United States
This is great. Such ambition at level 1. Given his dream of "I will live forever!" we're looking at a genuine baby PC instead of just a random mageling with a PC class. He might even claw his way up to the mid levels one day.
- Location
- mexico
[X] Goldfish
- Location
- Virginia
[X] Goldfish
ryuan
From Zero to Hero!
Considering our advanced health plan in the form of reincarnation, he can even make it past his seventies on his own and then find some manner of immortality for himself.
Goldfish
Friendly Spider-Fish Abomination
- Location
- Formerly of the Far Realm
I know there wasn't much in the way of support when I mentioned the possibility of Reincarnating fallen Legion soldiers once the invasion was wrapped up, but we should definitely Reincarnate any fallen mages. If we lost any.
They aren't so easy to come by as to leave them to rot.
- Location
- France
Well, I'm pretty sure that every single one of our magelings is ambitious. Although ambitious could mean "be safe and rich", "be Casanova", "be Zorro" or it could mean "ULTIMATE POWER".
I'm assuming that anyone awakened to sorcery by one of Viserys's rousing speeches and dreams of fallen Dragons is probably a little crazy. Maybe not totally insane - he is willing to wait until he actually has enough sorcerous power to build a canal from the Neck before raving about it like Aerys - but definitely a little overambitious.
Except that it technically isn't overambitious: he is on a path to power, and at the very least he can get immortality by staying very useful to us.
Yeah. And they're already weirdoes if they're willing to try magic: they're probably weird enough to deal with suddenly being an elf or whatever.
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Evaunit02mark1
S-s-smell the Prey, S-s-start the Hunt.
[X] Goldfish
Goldfish
Friendly Spider-Fish Abomination
- Location
- Formerly of the Far Realm
Or we could use Blood Wish to direct the Reincarnation. I don't think any of our mages would mind being a winged Elf like we saw in the Opaline Vault. The innate ability to fly and a multi-century lifespan seem like a nice reward for having died in our service.
Crake
I AM THE STORM THAT IS APPROACHING
- Location
- USA
@Azel @Goldfish @TotallyNotEvil Added to the list of things we need to do next turn, is raise wrecked ships for repairs from the bottom of the harbor. So we should have Lya use one of the remaining days from this turn to learn Raise From the Deep.
We should have records for all of the ships that were in the bay from the harbormaster as well, if not there then the city's records. So no problem raising literally every ship lost this battle to be repurposed for either our war fleet or trade convoys.
We should have records for all of the ships that were in the bay from the harbormaster as well, if not there then the city's records. So no problem raising literally every ship lost this battle to be repurposed for either our war fleet or trade convoys.
- Location
- Bear Island
I actually wanna try this in Stormbreaker's Bay there's got to be a ton of shipwrecks in the water just waiting to be raised and used again. Think of the symbolic and literal naval supremacy we could have by sending broken Baratheon ships out once more, and under our banner.