- Location
- Brazil
Exhibit A: Malarys having the time of his life.
Fuck, that's some powerful verse.
-
Going forward, links to content from Twitter (now X) will no longer be embedded. Pre-existing links should not be affected.
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
- Location
- United States
[X] Goldfish
- Location
- Germany
[X] Goldfish
We have our devils, now we better put them to use before they have too much free time on their hands.
Also clear payment, I still want to know the decorative and gardening tastes of the Fallen, so they have to have the money to buy houses.
We have our devils, now we better put them to use before they have too much free time on their hands.
Also clear payment, I still want to know the decorative and gardening tastes of the Fallen, so they have to have the money to buy houses.
Last edited:
- Location
- United States
That is a lot of erinyes.
- Location
- United Kingdom
[X] Goldfish
[X] Goldfish
Next step, severing internal links and granting draconic templates. Kinda wish we had gotten some of that Dragonification water. Would have made this easier.
Next step, severing internal links and granting draconic templates. Kinda wish we had gotten some of that Dragonification water. Would have made this easier.
You guys just said, get Devils, So Malarys got you as many as he could without losing a level.
- Location
- Here and there
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Man needs a raise. Or something more practical, knowing him.
He would not say no to having some of those devils act as aids since they would combine enough power to be useful in an ambush with being interesting conversationalists.
Goldfish
Friendly Spider-Fish Abomination
- Location
- Formerly of the Far Realm
And so was born "Malarys' Fallen Angels"!
The script practically writes itself.
Canon Omake: One of Swords
- Location
- Germany
<< Previous
First Day of the Fifth Month 293 AC
Old habits never truly died and neither did old skills. Hiding from the law in a bustling city? Anya had done so for nearly two times ten years in Gulltown and though her stay in the Deep was much shorter, she knew streets very well. Not each one in particular, but this city had been build so orderly that knowing the peculiarities of it's design meant you could read it like a book. Though she would have words with the little strange little flower, should she ever meet it again, it was right. She needed a bit of rest and even if she didn't like what it had done to her, it got results. Despite the visions, her slumber had been more restful then she ever remembered. The exhaustion was gone and her mind as sharp as a razors edge. There had been a few close calls as she had to move past the market district, but over all it had become easy to evade the patrols. It didn't hurt that she knew exactly when they would pass by a given locale.
That very same experience among the lawmen made it also easy to find her quarry. Lares. The bastard that had set her up. Or maybe he hadn't and he was played just as much as she was. The plant spirits strange words still echoed in her ears. Much treason, yet only one traitor. It was easy to believe that Lares had broken his own patterns for some reason, maybe even to frame her and thus conduct some kind of elaborate scheme against the lawmen with her the unwilling patsy. But at the same time, why should he? His position was as safe as it could get and he was never one of those who led their success get to their head and became too bold for their own good. If this mess got any bigger, Lord Vanor would hear about it and the man would take a fiendish delight in piecing together enough rope from Lares operations to hang him with.
It didn't matter though. She couldn't trust the lawmen right now and as loath she was to admit, the crafty smuggler and racketeer was her best bet to find that traitors trail. His house was well known in her former circles, a nice, but not very remarkable two story affair on what was the edge of the city a few short weeks ago. The Deep had a tendency to grow by a block or two every time you didn't look at it. The servants entrance was easily found and to her delight, it wasn't locked. Neither were the doors inside and there were no footsteps of either servants or guards to be heard. This was odd to say the least and Anya was pretty convinced that Lares had skipped town in a hurry, for while the house seemed deserted, there were no signs of him having taken anything along. None the less, she kept her blade ready and advanced cautiously to the upper floor, listening to each door before opening it and trying to make as little a sound as she could all the while.
When she opened the door to the solar, she was certain that it would be just as empty as all other rooms, but to her surprise, Lares himself was there. The room was plain and functional, the walls adorned with nautical maps and charts on one side, a heavy bookcase on the other. The man himself sat behind his heavy, wooden desk, his fingers steepled and a single, simple chair standing in front of the table. There was no clutter, nor signs of hasty packing. He just sat there, waiting patiently on something and not even giving a start when she entered. Instead he nodded once in greeting and beckoned her inside. It was awkward to say the least. Here Anya stood, a heavy cloak pilfered from a market stall hiding herself and one hand on a sword. She looked like the epitome of a thief or assassin, yet he looked roughly as perturbed as if she was a bit late to an appointment with him.
"Sit down please. I think we need to talk a while longer." She hesitated at his words, giving the chair a once over to look for any hidden surprises, but found nothing but polished wood. "I would offer you a good brandy, but you would probably think it poisoned and throw it on the good Ghiscari carpet, given how you look at the furniture. If I wanted to have you killed, I wouldn't have send my staff home for the day."
Anya took a deep breath and stepped forward, letting herself fall on the chair as if it was a hangman's noose. That it didn't try to kill her made her feel slightly embarrassed, though that should have been excusable, given the circumstances. Centering herself again, she looked straight into Lares eyes, who had let his hands sink down below the table in his lap. "And what do you want to talk about?"
The criminal just snorted as if she had cracked the worst joke in history. "Maybe why you killed my people? Namaerys was not always the nicest of fellows, but boiling him alive was a bit beyond the pale, don't you think?"
Not a hint of accusation had entered his voice and he could have spoken about the price of onions for all he seemed to care, but there was still a slight menace to it. On Anya though, it was lost. Having him think she murdered the poor sod meant that this might not end in blood. "I didn't kill him. He was already dead when I arrived."
The truth was that this sounded weak, even to her own ears and Lares just snorted. "Sure. And the two lawmen you killed when they tried to apprehend you?"
Doubt and guilt flickered across Anyas face at this accusation and nearly did she jump up in outrage, but with great effort, she wrenched those feelings down. The words of the little flower person seemed to whisper in her ears again. 'You don't believe yourself a bad person, despite quite some effort to convince you of the contrary.' This was a setup. Somebody wanted to blame her for the murders and it seemed Lares had bought the story. Little reason for him not to.
"Laeri is one of my own, you know. The ladies hear a lot and are quite amenable to help me out for some coin." He continued more sure then before, her silence probably sounding damming to his ears. "She followed you a bit and saw how you killed them. Quite brutal, just like Namaerys."
"No." Anya wasn't sure if she spoke against the accusation against her or against the notion that Laeri was part of the plot. The galley-slave turned whore seemed such a nice woman to her and it stung to think that she was part of this. "Call her over then. I haven't killed them. Somebody is playing both of us and whoever made her say that is probably the one doing it." There was still that sliver of doubt that she maybe had killed them, though it was easy now to smother it. If she had done it, then inside the alchemists lab and there would have been no place for Laeri to hide. And if it was brutal, then she would have looked the part when she came to her senses in the Godswood instead of her clothes being just slightly grimy from the dirt she cowered in.
Now it was Lares turn to be silent and his gaze bore into Anya for the longest while before he spoke again. "She was killed this morning. She was tied to her bed, upside down, and slowly bled out from eight cuts on her body, he mouth sewn shut to prevent her from screaming. A few people saw you leaving her room a while before."
She stared at him stunned as her mind tried to come up with an explanation. "Eight of Swords," she muttered, the card she had gotten from Laeri. Eight cuts to kill her. Did Namaerys get struck eight times by a club before he was stuffed into that pot? But how could someone see here in the Red Lantern, when she had been talking to a plant on the other side of town at the time?
But the criminal before her already had the answer. "Skinchanger. Somebody is using magic to use your face for his deeds." Slowly his hands rose from his lap and he dropped a single playing card on the table. One of Swords. A single, upright blade, wreathed in flame, the hilt purple and gold, ending in a skull. "A gentleman gave me this card when I was having lunch today. I've send the servants and my guards away once I came back here."
Gingerly, Anya took the card, studying it as if it could tell her all the secrets that still eluded her about these events. "So you think you are next."
"When three of your people get murdered in a grisly fashion after getting one of my cards gifted to them, what else should I assume when I get one myself? You didn't have the air of a psychotic murderer when we've met, so I had my suspicions and hoped I could talk to you before whatever bastard is doing this gets to me." When she made to give him back the card, he just waved her off and she put it into her pocket to the others. "Did you at least find anything in Namaerys lab?"
"Yes, a booklet with some notes." He raised a single eyebrow as she stopped and a slight redness crept into Anyas cheeks. "I can't read..."
Lares chuckled mirthlessly. "You should fix that. Knowing your letters and numbers is a skill that will get you farther then a blade alone." When she handed over the book in question, he cracked open the packages and began to skim the contents. "He was investigating something for me these last few days. Dyraek brought him some samples of a few wares I've had transported recently for some Tyroshi fob. Wanted some pretty extravagant dyes for something and paid premium for prompt delivery with few questions asked."
Something about this story tickled Anyas mind, but she couldn't quite lay her finger on it. "Yet you did ask questions. Why?"
"He had his own contacts he offered as part of my payment. Shady fellows, even by my standards and these dyes of his must be pretty rare, for I didn't find another seller. Seemed to be something only traded under the table." He paused shortly, his eyes transfixed to the book, then lowered it with a start and looked straight at her. "We m--"
The sound died in his throat, a red line marring it that oozed blood in great gushes. Anya looked around in panic, finding nothing and no-one around them. She hadn't seen a thing. She hadn't heard anything. In the time it took to blink, someone had opened Lares throat like a butcher bleeding out a pig with a single, smooth cut. Immediately she sprung around, trying to offer aid to him, no matter how futile it was. He collapsed on his desk, one hand weakly clasping his throat. He tried to say something to her, but only weak spurts of blood came from his throat while his eyes frantically moved around, then staring at the chair she had just occupied with a baleful intensity she couldn't understand. One of his hands dropped beneath the desk again, weakly fumbling at a latch. Hoping desperately that he might have hidden a healing draught somewhere in his table, Anya pulled on it.[/center]
A bowstring snapped so loud that it almost hurt and the paneling at the front of Lares desk was torn apart as a huge bolt of steel was slammed into the chair Anya had just sat upon. And then the wailing started. A high pitched scream of anguish and rage, no, hatred filled the air and the bolt, which had flipped the chair on it's back with it's force, wobbled as if something struggled on it. Then it stopped, the wail fading away into the nothingness that seemed to had birthed it. But as the last mote of it disappeared, the source became apparent. Smoke rose from around the bolt, smelling of sulfur and potash and were it rose a blackened, crumpled form appeared. A tiny, human shaped thing, now made only from black and oily looking ash was impaled on the steel. It took a moment for Anya to tear her gaze away from it again, yet Lares had stopped moving already. He was dead. Not that her full attention could have changed that.
This was too much for her. She was a lawman, not a Companion. Skinchangers? Invisible assassins? Quickly she tore the blood soaked book out under Lares corpse and crammed it into her mantle again, the mess on her front too bad to conceal anyway. Screw her superiors. She would go right to the keep with this. Let the King sort this out.
Just as she was about to turn and leave, a voice tore through her frantic thoughts. A man was standing in the door, wearing understated clothes in the Braavosi style and looking upon the scene in consternation. "It appears I have come too late."
Anya nearly grabbed for her sword again, but then hesitated. She had drawn the bloody thing on half of the city by now and never did that really improve her situation. Might as well talk to the next mysterious stranger crossing her path before debating to gut him or not. "And you would be?"
A smiled a bit and waved his hands around as if to ward her off. "A concerned citizen so to speak. I've had some business with poor Lares and tried to warn him that an assassin was walking around. One matching your description I might add."
She scoffed once, but moved her hand away from her sword all the same. The same dance again it seemed. "It was not me. It---"
But the man just cut her off with a curt nod. "I know. A Shapechanger is walking in the Deep. Many have fallen to his plots already and most dreadful would be the results if they succeeded."
Somehow, it felt surreal to meet this man. Here she was, running herself ragged to solve this mystery and not only did he seem to know just as much as her, but he also seemed to have had a much easier time. There was a sirens call in her mind to just tell him everything she knew. To just trust the gifted horse and to finally have an ally in this. A quick glance at the table made her amend that statement. An ally that was not dead. She shook her head. No. This was a bad idea. She had run around enough and this stranger was arguably less trustworthy then Lares was. The King could sort this out quiet handily without her or him.
His smile faltered a bit as she began to walk towards him, her hand going back to her blade. "Then I suggest you find a safe place to be. People who learn about this have a habit of dying like mayflies."
"Wait." There was no force behind his call, though Anya still stopped out of courtesy. He stretched out a hand clasping a small, red vial. A potion bottle? "I have some connections in the Deep. This draught is quite useful when you are in a pickle."
She looked at him suspiciously, but ultimately, it wouldn't hurt if she had a look. She had learned a bit about the potions handed out by the Scholarium to the Legion. Red bottles were healing philters and even though she wouldn't be able to read the label, if the seal was good, it was safe to drink. Carefully she took the bottle and inspected it. The seal was indeed unbroken, the Scholariums sigil displayed proudly in red wax. A thousand aches seemed to come back to her. The last days were taxing and a single night of sleep hardly fixed all of it. With a quick pull on the string, she tore out the cork and downed the potion in one go.
Now the man was smiling at her. It wasn't the nice smile from before, but something wicked. Like a cat that had carefully torn the legs of a mouse so that it could play at it's leisure with the rodent. But he didn't say another thing to her, instead looking over to the thing impaled on the iron bolt. With a lazy wave of his hand, the ash broke apart and disappeared. It was hard to keep track of the motes for Anya from her position on the floor. Her vision was getting a bit reddish around the edges, which probably should have been alarming, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to panic.
Then the man kneeled before her, his face only inches away from hers. She could have sworn she saw the tongue of a snake dart out of his mouth right before he spoke again.
"Well. It is time for the last act of our little mummers play, don't you think?"
AN: An internet cookie for the first one to figure out the monsters.
One of Swords
First Day of the Fifth Month 293 AC
Old habits never truly died and neither did old skills. Hiding from the law in a bustling city? Anya had done so for nearly two times ten years in Gulltown and though her stay in the Deep was much shorter, she knew streets very well. Not each one in particular, but this city had been build so orderly that knowing the peculiarities of it's design meant you could read it like a book. Though she would have words with the little strange little flower, should she ever meet it again, it was right. She needed a bit of rest and even if she didn't like what it had done to her, it got results. Despite the visions, her slumber had been more restful then she ever remembered. The exhaustion was gone and her mind as sharp as a razors edge. There had been a few close calls as she had to move past the market district, but over all it had become easy to evade the patrols. It didn't hurt that she knew exactly when they would pass by a given locale.
That very same experience among the lawmen made it also easy to find her quarry. Lares. The bastard that had set her up. Or maybe he hadn't and he was played just as much as she was. The plant spirits strange words still echoed in her ears. Much treason, yet only one traitor. It was easy to believe that Lares had broken his own patterns for some reason, maybe even to frame her and thus conduct some kind of elaborate scheme against the lawmen with her the unwilling patsy. But at the same time, why should he? His position was as safe as it could get and he was never one of those who led their success get to their head and became too bold for their own good. If this mess got any bigger, Lord Vanor would hear about it and the man would take a fiendish delight in piecing together enough rope from Lares operations to hang him with.
It didn't matter though. She couldn't trust the lawmen right now and as loath she was to admit, the crafty smuggler and racketeer was her best bet to find that traitors trail. His house was well known in her former circles, a nice, but not very remarkable two story affair on what was the edge of the city a few short weeks ago. The Deep had a tendency to grow by a block or two every time you didn't look at it. The servants entrance was easily found and to her delight, it wasn't locked. Neither were the doors inside and there were no footsteps of either servants or guards to be heard. This was odd to say the least and Anya was pretty convinced that Lares had skipped town in a hurry, for while the house seemed deserted, there were no signs of him having taken anything along. None the less, she kept her blade ready and advanced cautiously to the upper floor, listening to each door before opening it and trying to make as little a sound as she could all the while.
When she opened the door to the solar, she was certain that it would be just as empty as all other rooms, but to her surprise, Lares himself was there. The room was plain and functional, the walls adorned with nautical maps and charts on one side, a heavy bookcase on the other. The man himself sat behind his heavy, wooden desk, his fingers steepled and a single, simple chair standing in front of the table. There was no clutter, nor signs of hasty packing. He just sat there, waiting patiently on something and not even giving a start when she entered. Instead he nodded once in greeting and beckoned her inside. It was awkward to say the least. Here Anya stood, a heavy cloak pilfered from a market stall hiding herself and one hand on a sword. She looked like the epitome of a thief or assassin, yet he looked roughly as perturbed as if she was a bit late to an appointment with him.
"Sit down please. I think we need to talk a while longer." She hesitated at his words, giving the chair a once over to look for any hidden surprises, but found nothing but polished wood. "I would offer you a good brandy, but you would probably think it poisoned and throw it on the good Ghiscari carpet, given how you look at the furniture. If I wanted to have you killed, I wouldn't have send my staff home for the day."
Anya took a deep breath and stepped forward, letting herself fall on the chair as if it was a hangman's noose. That it didn't try to kill her made her feel slightly embarrassed, though that should have been excusable, given the circumstances. Centering herself again, she looked straight into Lares eyes, who had let his hands sink down below the table in his lap. "And what do you want to talk about?"
The criminal just snorted as if she had cracked the worst joke in history. "Maybe why you killed my people? Namaerys was not always the nicest of fellows, but boiling him alive was a bit beyond the pale, don't you think?"
Not a hint of accusation had entered his voice and he could have spoken about the price of onions for all he seemed to care, but there was still a slight menace to it. On Anya though, it was lost. Having him think she murdered the poor sod meant that this might not end in blood. "I didn't kill him. He was already dead when I arrived."
The truth was that this sounded weak, even to her own ears and Lares just snorted. "Sure. And the two lawmen you killed when they tried to apprehend you?"
Doubt and guilt flickered across Anyas face at this accusation and nearly did she jump up in outrage, but with great effort, she wrenched those feelings down. The words of the little flower person seemed to whisper in her ears again. 'You don't believe yourself a bad person, despite quite some effort to convince you of the contrary.' This was a setup. Somebody wanted to blame her for the murders and it seemed Lares had bought the story. Little reason for him not to.
"Laeri is one of my own, you know. The ladies hear a lot and are quite amenable to help me out for some coin." He continued more sure then before, her silence probably sounding damming to his ears. "She followed you a bit and saw how you killed them. Quite brutal, just like Namaerys."
"No." Anya wasn't sure if she spoke against the accusation against her or against the notion that Laeri was part of the plot. The galley-slave turned whore seemed such a nice woman to her and it stung to think that she was part of this. "Call her over then. I haven't killed them. Somebody is playing both of us and whoever made her say that is probably the one doing it." There was still that sliver of doubt that she maybe had killed them, though it was easy now to smother it. If she had done it, then inside the alchemists lab and there would have been no place for Laeri to hide. And if it was brutal, then she would have looked the part when she came to her senses in the Godswood instead of her clothes being just slightly grimy from the dirt she cowered in.
Now it was Lares turn to be silent and his gaze bore into Anya for the longest while before he spoke again. "She was killed this morning. She was tied to her bed, upside down, and slowly bled out from eight cuts on her body, he mouth sewn shut to prevent her from screaming. A few people saw you leaving her room a while before."
She stared at him stunned as her mind tried to come up with an explanation. "Eight of Swords," she muttered, the card she had gotten from Laeri. Eight cuts to kill her. Did Namaerys get struck eight times by a club before he was stuffed into that pot? But how could someone see here in the Red Lantern, when she had been talking to a plant on the other side of town at the time?
But the criminal before her already had the answer. "Skinchanger. Somebody is using magic to use your face for his deeds." Slowly his hands rose from his lap and he dropped a single playing card on the table. One of Swords. A single, upright blade, wreathed in flame, the hilt purple and gold, ending in a skull. "A gentleman gave me this card when I was having lunch today. I've send the servants and my guards away once I came back here."
Gingerly, Anya took the card, studying it as if it could tell her all the secrets that still eluded her about these events. "So you think you are next."
"When three of your people get murdered in a grisly fashion after getting one of my cards gifted to them, what else should I assume when I get one myself? You didn't have the air of a psychotic murderer when we've met, so I had my suspicions and hoped I could talk to you before whatever bastard is doing this gets to me." When she made to give him back the card, he just waved her off and she put it into her pocket to the others. "Did you at least find anything in Namaerys lab?"
"Yes, a booklet with some notes." He raised a single eyebrow as she stopped and a slight redness crept into Anyas cheeks. "I can't read..."
Lares chuckled mirthlessly. "You should fix that. Knowing your letters and numbers is a skill that will get you farther then a blade alone." When she handed over the book in question, he cracked open the packages and began to skim the contents. "He was investigating something for me these last few days. Dyraek brought him some samples of a few wares I've had transported recently for some Tyroshi fob. Wanted some pretty extravagant dyes for something and paid premium for prompt delivery with few questions asked."
Something about this story tickled Anyas mind, but she couldn't quite lay her finger on it. "Yet you did ask questions. Why?"
"He had his own contacts he offered as part of my payment. Shady fellows, even by my standards and these dyes of his must be pretty rare, for I didn't find another seller. Seemed to be something only traded under the table." He paused shortly, his eyes transfixed to the book, then lowered it with a start and looked straight at her. "We m--"
The sound died in his throat, a red line marring it that oozed blood in great gushes. Anya looked around in panic, finding nothing and no-one around them. She hadn't seen a thing. She hadn't heard anything. In the time it took to blink, someone had opened Lares throat like a butcher bleeding out a pig with a single, smooth cut. Immediately she sprung around, trying to offer aid to him, no matter how futile it was. He collapsed on his desk, one hand weakly clasping his throat. He tried to say something to her, but only weak spurts of blood came from his throat while his eyes frantically moved around, then staring at the chair she had just occupied with a baleful intensity she couldn't understand. One of his hands dropped beneath the desk again, weakly fumbling at a latch. Hoping desperately that he might have hidden a healing draught somewhere in his table, Anya pulled on it.[/center]
A bowstring snapped so loud that it almost hurt and the paneling at the front of Lares desk was torn apart as a huge bolt of steel was slammed into the chair Anya had just sat upon. And then the wailing started. A high pitched scream of anguish and rage, no, hatred filled the air and the bolt, which had flipped the chair on it's back with it's force, wobbled as if something struggled on it. Then it stopped, the wail fading away into the nothingness that seemed to had birthed it. But as the last mote of it disappeared, the source became apparent. Smoke rose from around the bolt, smelling of sulfur and potash and were it rose a blackened, crumpled form appeared. A tiny, human shaped thing, now made only from black and oily looking ash was impaled on the steel. It took a moment for Anya to tear her gaze away from it again, yet Lares had stopped moving already. He was dead. Not that her full attention could have changed that.
This was too much for her. She was a lawman, not a Companion. Skinchangers? Invisible assassins? Quickly she tore the blood soaked book out under Lares corpse and crammed it into her mantle again, the mess on her front too bad to conceal anyway. Screw her superiors. She would go right to the keep with this. Let the King sort this out.
Just as she was about to turn and leave, a voice tore through her frantic thoughts. A man was standing in the door, wearing understated clothes in the Braavosi style and looking upon the scene in consternation. "It appears I have come too late."
Anya nearly grabbed for her sword again, but then hesitated. She had drawn the bloody thing on half of the city by now and never did that really improve her situation. Might as well talk to the next mysterious stranger crossing her path before debating to gut him or not. "And you would be?"
A smiled a bit and waved his hands around as if to ward her off. "A concerned citizen so to speak. I've had some business with poor Lares and tried to warn him that an assassin was walking around. One matching your description I might add."
She scoffed once, but moved her hand away from her sword all the same. The same dance again it seemed. "It was not me. It---"
But the man just cut her off with a curt nod. "I know. A Shapechanger is walking in the Deep. Many have fallen to his plots already and most dreadful would be the results if they succeeded."
Somehow, it felt surreal to meet this man. Here she was, running herself ragged to solve this mystery and not only did he seem to know just as much as her, but he also seemed to have had a much easier time. There was a sirens call in her mind to just tell him everything she knew. To just trust the gifted horse and to finally have an ally in this. A quick glance at the table made her amend that statement. An ally that was not dead. She shook her head. No. This was a bad idea. She had run around enough and this stranger was arguably less trustworthy then Lares was. The King could sort this out quiet handily without her or him.
His smile faltered a bit as she began to walk towards him, her hand going back to her blade. "Then I suggest you find a safe place to be. People who learn about this have a habit of dying like mayflies."
"Wait." There was no force behind his call, though Anya still stopped out of courtesy. He stretched out a hand clasping a small, red vial. A potion bottle? "I have some connections in the Deep. This draught is quite useful when you are in a pickle."
She looked at him suspiciously, but ultimately, it wouldn't hurt if she had a look. She had learned a bit about the potions handed out by the Scholarium to the Legion. Red bottles were healing philters and even though she wouldn't be able to read the label, if the seal was good, it was safe to drink. Carefully she took the bottle and inspected it. The seal was indeed unbroken, the Scholariums sigil displayed proudly in red wax. A thousand aches seemed to come back to her. The last days were taxing and a single night of sleep hardly fixed all of it. With a quick pull on the string, she tore out the cork and downed the potion in one go.
Now the man was smiling at her. It wasn't the nice smile from before, but something wicked. Like a cat that had carefully torn the legs of a mouse so that it could play at it's leisure with the rodent. But he didn't say another thing to her, instead looking over to the thing impaled on the iron bolt. With a lazy wave of his hand, the ash broke apart and disappeared. It was hard to keep track of the motes for Anya from her position on the floor. Her vision was getting a bit reddish around the edges, which probably should have been alarming, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to panic.
Then the man kneeled before her, his face only inches away from hers. She could have sworn she saw the tongue of a snake dart out of his mouth right before he spoke again.
"Well. It is time for the last act of our little mummers play, don't you think?"
AN: An internet cookie for the first one to figure out the monsters.
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- Location
- Sweden
Maybe a research action in the Dragonstone fount by Viserys and Daenerys... fill the well with Blood and Fire, add wishcraft. Chant until liquid fiery-ness.
- Location
- United States
Malarys is just great.
He can have three or so as subordinates.
- Location
- Brazil
Best. Minion. Ever.
@Goldfish stuff for the crafting list:
- Gloves of the Balanced Hand for Bronn
- +1 INT for Bronn
- 10 sets of Reinforced Segmented Mithral Breastplates of Nimbleness +1 (+2 total) (AC +7/Max DEX +8)
- 10 sets of Least Belt of Prowess (+1 STR/DEX/CON)
- We could really make +3 Necklaces for the Iron Golens as that allows them to pierce Silver/Cold Iron DR, but I'm not sure it fits. Either way, they are under-utilized.
-- Gotta make the two Archer ones have See Invisibility like the normal one.
- Location
- United States
We're not going for Fullplate for the Erinyes?
- Location
- Brazil
Can't, their dex mod with the +1 items is +8.
'Nimbleness' is a +1 armour property that allows you an extra +2 to max dex. That's how high their DEX is, they need special armour enchanted to support it.
On that note, they all could use animated shields too...
- Location
- United States
Fair enough on the armor.
I think the Animated Shields will have to wait for a bit, though. The crafting schedule is already getting a bit heavy.
Goldfish
Friendly Spider-Fish Abomination
- Location
- Formerly of the Far Realm
Not going to be able to get all of that done this turn. We still don't know how much the cloak is going to cost.
We can take care of Bronn. What's the cost on those gloves?
The Golems are slated to get their +1 Necklaces and See Invisibility items. If you want them at +3, that'll need to be a later upgrade.
Rather than belts, the +1 STR/DEX/CON item for the Erinyes will be a ring, that way we can give each of them a premade Healing Belt. Their armor is going to have to start off as just +1 if we want them all armored this turn.
Animated shields will definitely have to wait.
- Location
- United States
@Goldfish, don't forget that we're getting the crafters from the Plane of Air.
For the first month we can have them work as crafters if necessary.
Goldfish
Friendly Spider-Fish Abomination
- Location
- Formerly of the Far Realm