Remove ads

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

Reader mode
If we hyper loot abadon were coming back reeking of evil. Physically and magically.

I think evilness contamination would be a real problem after leaving the plane, so we should do something spiritually cleansing afterwards. Like blood sacrifice!

I kid. Sort of. We should probably give money to orphans or something. Just to be on the safe side.
 
Remove ads
Part MMCCIV: Sin's Likeness
  • Threadmarks
    • Sin's Likeness ​

    Eighteenth Day of the Fourth Month 293 AC

    The hours seem to slow to a crawl once the last of the planning is done, as though the weight of deeds yet unborn hangs upon every breath, a fact to which Zherys is surprisingly sympathetic. He opens his personal library, offers wine and refreshments, even a game of cyvasse to pass the time. Hopefully winning two times out of three can be counted a good omen.

    Finally the time draws close as the High Speaker's gaze grows distant in the middle of your fourth and by far closest game. "I fear we shall have to finish this in the evening," he announces, all but radiating quiet confidence. "The Archon's company is at the outer gates."

    "Why do you still call him that if you're gonna kill him?" Glyra pipes up from where she had been eating her way through what must have been several ponds of roasted dates in defiance of what most might call sense.

    "Because until such a time as he stops breathing he is still Archon," Zherys replies automatically. "One should not let personal dislike, however well-founded, get in the way of acknowledging reality."

    With a small mental start you recall all the times you forced yourself to think of the Usurper as 'king' rather than delude yourself into thinking he is not. It seems your similarities to the Volantine mage go deeper than kinship and magic, a fact which leaves you with an unaccustomed feeling of uncertainty. A matter to ponder another time.

    For now your awareness sinks into the flow of magic that you might weave wards and blessings just as the others do with the same practiced ease. Zherys watches you all with an air of polite curiosity that almost perfectly masks the far sharper interest lurking in his gaze. As you are about to depart he hands you all delicate iron filigree spheres with a spark of arcane fire at the center, each small enough to comfortably hide in the palm of your hands or swiftly draw from a hidden pouch. "If you are in need of assistance, crush these in your hand and either I or one of my more experienced mages will set off to assist, if we can untangle ourselves from battle."

    "How does it..." Lya begins, then falls silent with a somewhat sheepish smile, realizing that the question she was about to ask is not one that could be answered in a brief time you have left, something Zherys must have planned for.

    You bid farewell to Garin, Lya, and Teana, all headed for Old Volantis, and with a heart laden with perhaps irrational worry to Dany as she is to head for the temple of Meraxes, while Zherys carries you and Ser Richard by sorcery into the bowels of the city before departing to take his place at the ceremony of twofold treachery.

    ***​

    The walls are set in dark red brick and cunningly placed, the arches that hold up the freshwater channels no less well-made than those of the Long Bridge, and no less vital to the city above. Perhaps hiring some Volantine engineers would not go amiss in the future. Doubtless the prideful locals will appreciate the compliment.

    "Nice of 'em to build this bank to walk on for when you have to hunt bloody demons in the sewers," Ser Richard offers, breaking the silence that had before contained only the gurgles and splashes of water in its channel.

    "It's to allow workers access to shore up the viaduct and keep it in good order... which I suppose in an odd sort of way we are too," you answer, flashing a smile as the whispers in your blood grow louder at the thought of battle to come.

    Ser Richard answers in kind, and you would like to think that had the more intelligent demons seen that expression and known the man who bore it they would have long since fled back to the cesspit that birthed them to spare themselves the pain of death in battle.

    No long afterwards you begin to hear voices not your own echoing through the dark, chants and mad laughter and something that sounds far too much like screams muffled behind an ill-fitting gag. It seems the demons had been unaccountably prompt in arriving. Standing at the mouth of a feeding tunnel you see a group of hooded figures gathered about seventy feet across from you from the waters of the reservoir, or about a hundred and ten feet were you to go around.

    There can be little doubt these are the ones you seek as dark robes do little to hide the dripping crimson ichor that marks the three slaughter fiends among their number besides which walk about a dozen cavorting mortals who have clearly given themselves to the ever-hungering madness of the Pit, poking and prodding at two gagged and bound soon-to-be sacrifices garbed in white as what you can only assume is mockery. Thankfully fiends and mortals both are too distracted with their 'sport' to notice you and Ser Richard.

    You wish for nothing more than to take on wings and fly over the water to slay the fiends and their mortal servants by flame and claw, but something about the scene before you feels amiss. Babau are not the sorts of demons who would enjoy this sort of subtle plot, for they love nothing more than the blood of innocents running red over their talons. So then what drives them on?

    Calling on the power to pierce all illusions and trickery you find your answer... and you have to suppress the sudden urge to give a half-surprised-half-scornful laugh as you notice one of the seemingly human forms hides a hulking monstrosity like a mangled joining of ape and elephant. Tusks grow not just from its face but jutting seemingly at random from its filthy grey hide with one set even at the end of its trunk. Though it bears no weapon in its clawed hands the fiend wears soot-blackened plate far too heavy for a man to carry.


    Begotten from the souls of sinful rulers unfit to the task yet consumed by pride for what they hold and greed for what they hope to grasp, you know from dreams of yore. So fitting a creature this for the foolish magisters of the Old Blood that you begin to wonder if choosing their symbol had not perhaps been a mere coincidence. Still it would not do to measure this thing forged in the fires of the Pit by the same measure as the fools that brought it forth. There is a vicious cunning in its red rheumy eyes, and its flesh seems bloated from the stolen lives of sacrifices.

    How do you approach the fight?

    [] Attack at once
    -[] Write in plan

    [] Try to get the sacrifices out of danger first, they are unlikely to survive in the midsts of demons and madmen once the battle starts
    -[] Write in plan

    OOC: I know the Maelephant is usually LE in the source material, but look at it. It's an fiendish elephant man, not to mention all the interesting combat tricks it can pull, so I decided to make it a demon. Also as Viserys noted IC this one is stronger than usual to make this level appropriate.
     
    Last edited:
  • Threadmarks
    • [X] Very quietly cast Ancestral Awakening, Merciful Spell feat.
    -[X] Arcane Spellsurge, True Casting, Merciful Agonising Searing Firebrand everyone except the prisoners.
    -[X] If any demons are still a threat, Celerity, Merciful Agonising Searing Firebrand any that are still conscious.
    -[X] Turtle or bottle as desired.
     
    I think a classic should work best.

    We use Firebrand to kill everyone not a giant elephant-man, if need be two. He will be weakened, if we are lucky fall down from the Agonizing.
    Then we let Richard do his thing.
     
    @Goldfish, just checking, but shouldn't we have Beads of Newt Prevention in our inventory? I could have sworn we had them crafted a while ago, but I'm not seeing them in the full character inventory.
     
    Yada yada standard demonic sacrifice protocoo. Turtle them and don't let them spill any hostage blood or bad shit will happen.
     
    BeepSmile said:
    [X] Very quietly cast Ancestral Awakening, Merciful Spell feat.
    -[X] Arcane Spellsurge, True Casting, Merciful Agonising Searing Firebrand everyone except the prisoners.
    -[X] If any demons are still a threat, Celerity, Merciful Agonising Searing Firebrand any that are still conscious.
    -[X] Turtle or bottle as desired.
    Click to expand...
    Click to shrink...
    We don't need True Casting, the common cultists and Babau can't resist anyway.

    @DragonParadox Are the sacrifices close enough together to get them in one Resilient Sphere?
    And would there be space left in it for a Babau to teleport in and kill them?
    And would such kill count for a sacrifice in a ritual since there is no line of effect from them to the water and their blood wouldn't go anywhere but stay in the sphere?
     
    Reader mode
    You must login or register to reply here.
    Remove ads
    Back
    Top