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

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Well then, that seems fairly consensus-y to me.
Adhoc vote count started by Sqweaktoy on Aug 18, 2018 at 2:06 PM, finished with 216628 posts and 12 votes.
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@Goldfish, please add in grabbing Tor's skull and curse staff before it is too late.
I'd rather have the option on hand if we meet him.
 
DragonParadox said:
"I'll get the next one, then," she calls out cheerfully, floating to the ground under the power of some lingering enchantment.
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DragonParadox said:
Rather than trying to bait the creatures apart, Wyla surprises you by simply taking the shape of one through a quick incantation and stomping over to see how they react to others of their own kind.
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DragonParadox said:
"Cloud would disown me," Waymar laughs. Then with a worried look at the head bashing contest between Wyla and the lead three-horn he adds, "Do you think that's safe for a lady to..." the words die as the beast is knocked unconscious in a flash of sorcery.
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Okay, for Feats, Wyla has Merciful Spell, Silent Spell, and Still Spell.

For spells, Wyla has Feather Fall, Polymorph, and Force Punch.

That Merciful Spell feat especially I'm pretty excited about. Wyla is perfect to bring along whenever we want to go sacrifice gathering.

Having strong subordinates we can trust is a wonderful thing.
 
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"Your Grace... explain."

"The issue was that you could not stand the bugs, and the weather, and the underbrush always tripping or catching on your clothes. So I solve the problems that have accumulated in this expedition for at least the next mile or so of dilapidated terrain."

"You scorched the land until it looks like Valyria the fallen!"

"Can you claim it is not an improvement?"

"That's not what I'm saying!"

"Er... then what?"

"Do it again!"

"Uh--how many--"

"Keep doing it until I can't see anymore of this accursed land's surface features!"

"J-just the surface?"

"*sneering* "We'll get to the underground. I am still devising a ritual that will repeatedly collapse it anytime natural or unnatural forces attempt to reopen the paths."

...

"Fell down a sink hole."

"That explains much."
 
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Part MMCCXXX: A Tangled Tale
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    • A Tangled Tale ​

    Twenty Sixth Day of the Fourth Month 293 AC

    You should have known a week's worth of quiet study was too much to expect, not that you are particularly displeased with the cause of the interruption. Quite the contrary, you are eager for a final meeting with your old 'friend' Tor. With Waymar, Garin, Lya and of course Ser Richard by your side, you follow Malarys' message and return to the steaming jungles of the south, or rather the steaming marshlands.

    You can almost taste the magic in the air as you manifest, so thick does it lie between the tumbled towers and ruined temples, every leaf trembling with it, every ripple in the water. Great spells had once been worked here, not for a day or a year but ages uncounted, long enough that ancient enchantments still rot under the blazing sun, the decay birthing all manner of things strange and grotesque. Your friends speak either with interest, with pride, or in Bronn's case an obscure sense of betrayal of all that they had faced to get here: lizard lions who could hide not only in the water but veil themselves in glamours, enormous water beetles with jaws strong enough to rend steel, and shoals of crimson fish which can strip a titan lizard in minutes, though Vee admits she cannot be sure if the latter hold any sorcery.

    Even as you speak you spot a pair of jellyfish-like creatures woven of vines and leaves dangling from the lower branches of the water-loving trees, twitching in anticipation. Arcanophages you guess, perhaps being stirred into a frenzy by new magic being brought into this realm after all this time.


    Whatever the case, there is at least one creature among the sunken ruins who is at least seemingly not a foe but a friend. The spirit lizard is indeed fey as Malarys had speculated, bonded with a tree much in the manner as a dryad, though far more bold than you imagine any dryad would be when confronted with armed and unknown strangers. You soon find that it is desperation giving him courage.

    "For thirteen lives of trees I have watched over the eggs of the Broken Ones whose ancestors raised these now crumbled walls," the fey creature explains, speaking quickly. "At times I have seen them devolve to near hissing barbarians, only dimly knowing fire or polished stone until one among them would be hatched with a spark of old memory in their eye, perhaps from a fortunate sip of the enchanted waters. They would guess and piece together who they were from the ruins, they would ask me for council and I would offer it, recalling the tales I have heard of their past, of their foes, and of their gods. When I was young, my tree's branches barely reaching for the sun, they found the halls of the dead below where their ancestors lay on beds of gold and amber, and it seemed a safe place, for the dead did not desire their last memory to pass from the world, so they made room in the heart of their nests and bid their kin enter."

    Tiny ivory spines rise up on the creature's back like the hackles on a cat as it continues the tales. "Thus most went to dwell below for they counted the wisdom of their ancestors unbroken to be better than my thrice-told tales. A handful stayed above, for they loved the light of day too well to go down into the grave touched shadows..."

    "They fought," you guess. Ever that seemed the way of those sundered from each other, and though you have never seen any of Yss' children you cannot imagine they are so different.

    "Not them, not ever if they had been left in peace," the spirit hissed. "Three sun-turnings past one of the hatchlings claimed to hear a voice in his dreams and see strange visions of far off places, and he named them a gift from the Father of All Serpents whose name even I have forgotten and there was much rejoicing. Knots of magic came undone to him that had confounded all others before him. The hunters traveled far from this place and met soft skins, snared them, then slew them once all the secrets had been taken from they who seemed kin to the Enemy, the Egg Breakers who were and will be again..." Again the creature pauses, this time as though sharing any further pains it. "We should have looked deeper than the skin."

    "What happened?" Vee prompts not unkindly.

    "The turnskin came, among the sun-dwellers who seemed to be kin but was not. He trapped some in treacherous words and others with enchantment, but none would believe my words. When he slew the dreamer, with his last breath he said that aid would come and I would know it by the grey stone of their blades. I knew there was no hope to be found for those who followed the turnskin, and so I took the eggs and fled awaiting that aid."

    "So this turnskin is besieging those who dwell below?" you hazard again, and this time you are proven right.

    It seems that your enemy, whose name you are all but certain of, had turned some of the ancient dead against the living and was slowly tightening the noose around them, closing the passages through which their hunters could slip off to find food in the deep caverns. Whether any of the former surface dwellers are still present and aiding the traitor the spirit lizard does not know, but for them it asks only that they be put to death for their crimes against their fellows.

    What do you do?

    [] Fight through the necropolis

    [] Try to scry and teleport to Tor, ending this once and for all

    [] Try to slip through the necropolis unseen to be able to protect the surviving serpentfolk when the hammer falls

    [] Write in

    OOC: Keep in mind even if you do not save a single living serpentfolk there are still the eggs the spirit lizard secreted away. Also it was talking mind-to-mind all this time, but I felt italicizing that much text would make it too frustrating to read.
     
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    • DragonParadox said:
    in Bronn's case an obscure sense of betrayal of all that they had faced to get here: lizard lions who could hide not only in the water but veil themselves in glamours, enormous water beetles with jaws strong enough to rend steel, and shoals of crimson fish which can strip a titan lizard in minutes, though Vee admits she cannot be sure if the latter hold any sorcery.
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    Poor Bronn. Don't worry, you'll get paid back in magic items, and when you get home you'll have a snazzy dragonskin cloak to show off.

    Also, TOR! :mad: Messing with our snake-people?! You're doubly dead, now.
     
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