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

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Personally, I'm set on making the Imperial Palace one humungus anti-grav vessel. As in, the size were you have hangars for the smaller vessels weighing a mere 100,000 tons.
 
lancelot said:
Dragon in order to save time what do you think of the idea of you posting the scheduling post a day or two before your done with the month?

That way when we do hit the new month we'll have a plan ready and voted on.
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How would that save time? You would still need aday's worth of interludes to handle such a large vote. Whether it is IC during the last days of this month or the first days of the next it works out the same.
 
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Part MMCCCLVI: In the High Reaches
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    • In the High Reaches​

    Twenty-Seventh Day of the Fifth Month 293 AC

    Evening sees you return among the tents of the Sons of the Mist, to find the tribe more prosperous and, from the many spirals of smoke climbing into the cold mountain air, more numerous than on your last visit. Hardly surprising given how the clansmen live. Though much of what you told Gerold Grafton was meant to present the hill folk in as kindly a manner as you could, you did not lie. Raiders too often test the cruel edge of starvation, making consistent supply perhaps more coveted than battle luck of trophies or valor.

    Walking among them unseen you are glad to witness no new prisoners being driven to their tasks, though the familiar clang of a smith's hammer on steel does draw your attention to the rather solid-looking forge near the center of the encampment. It has been clearly shaped with magic, most likely by Dalla herself, but it is the craftsman working the bellows who makes the more interesting sight. The cut of his vest and the solid leather shoes coming to sharp points mark him as a prosperous smith, perhaps even a master, yet he does not seem particularly ill at ease in the middle of a wildling encampment. More likely than not Dalla bought his services with either coin or magic. Such cooperation makes for a heartening sight given what you have come here to discuss.

    ***​

    "Ye want me ta spread out some devils' coins an' get the word 'round that a lowlander knight paid raiders in 'em so that another of 'em lords goes off and fights him and leaves us be?" the young witch asks slowly after you had laid out your request. At your nod she continues, "I can make the other tribes to listen... at least most of 'em, but I don't know who's slippery enough to make sure this Grafton buys into it." She pauses for a moment, thinking. "Well, not outside the my own kin at least, and what sneaks I've got who know who to deal with lowlanders are out settin' up raids and getting fool knights drunk so we'll know where to slit their throats."

    "Surely not every raid is urgent?" you ask, emphasizing the last word just enough to make it clear you are speaking of those tasks Bloodraven sets her.

    "'Course not," Dalla agrees readily. "But every raid gets me more coin in my coffers and a bigger name to call the clans in fer that plan of yours. If ye need me to turn 'em 'round for this here trick instead it's gonna cost you."

    "And I suppose it will be the same for devil watching?" you ask flatly.

    "Nah," she shakes her head. "Watching out fer monsters of all sorts is just good sense. I owe ye fer telling me what to beware of."

    "How much?" you ask, grudgingly admiring the harsh but fair negotiating tactics. Tongue of barbed iron or not, Dalla is not unskilled at getting the most out of a deal, but neither is she shy about admitting debt when there is one.

    "Depends on how you want to go about it," she replies. "I'd say look at where the raiders ye talked about came from and walk those tracks back to whatever snake set them to it." It does not take much of a description of the attackers, even twice removed by way of Ser Kennos' recollections, for Dalla to snort: "Painted Dogs right enough. With how greedy they are they'd take coin from a corpse's eyes and call themselves lucky right up until the wight comes walking up to their campfire."

    How do you wish Dalla to sell the tale of Corbray guilt and how if at all do you plan to pay for it?

    [] Write in

    OOC: You are very much negotiating from a position of strength here, but it pays to remember clansmen are a proud bunch. They would much rather trade in favors than just take orders.
     
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    • @DragonParadox, through ancestral memories we have figured out the single best method to Blood Wish fertility onto living creatures.

    Now that Dalla has done her test run for that pair of Hippogriffs, can we just pay for this by Blood Wishing fertility for more Hippogriffs?
     
    Duesal said:
    @DragonParadox, through ancestral memories we have figured out the single best method to Blood Wish fertility onto living creatures.

    Now that Dalla has done her test run for that pair of Hippogriffs, can we just pay for this by Blood Wishing fertility for more Hippogriffs?
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    You can, but that kind of long term gain does not exactly cover the lack of raiding information, something more comparable would be scrying targets for her or giving her help/equipment so she can go for bigger targets.
     
    Azel said:
    Personally, I'm set on making the Imperial Palace one humungus anti-grav vessel. As in, the size were you have hangars for the smaller vessels weighing a mere 100,000 tons.
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    as much awesome that may be, I see little practicality in that.

    If we are making something antigrav-flight-capable, we should also make it efficient at that (and combat), which pretty much any castle is anything but.

    I wouldn't mind getting an awesome overengeneered piece of a keep, but I'd rather keep all floaty bits as battle-ready as possible.

    Having a super-ship used as an imperial palace...
    That is an entirely different matter altogether.

    So long as we don't go full WH40K on that ship, it'd be fine, I suppose.

    (I mean, seriously. Don't go full WH40K. As much awesome those Cathedral-ships are, they break my SoD)
     
    DragonParadox said:
    You can, but that kind of long term gain does not exactly cover the lack of raiding information, something more comparable would be scrying targets for her or giving her help/equipment so she can go for bigger targets.
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    @DragonParadox... how about a Heart Tree?

    Not now, since we're on the clock, but at the end of the month when we grow the Heart Trees en mass, one of them could go to Dalla.
     
    egoo said:
    as much awesome that may be, I see little practicality in that.

    If we are making something antigrav-flight-capable, we should also make it efficient at that (and combat), which pretty much any castle is anything but.

    I wouldn't mind getting an awesome overengeneered piece of a keep, but I'd rather keep all floaty bits as battle-ready as possible.

    Having a super-ship used as an imperial palace...
    That is an entirely different matter altogether.

    So long as we don't go full WH40K on that ship, it'd be fine, I suppose.

    (I mean, seriously. Don't go full WH40K. As much awesome those Cathedral-ships are, they break my SoD)
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    That's the idea. One huge battleship that doubles as the Imperial Palace.

    Nothing says "The Imperial Peace" like a palace that can wipe a city from the map in a afternoon.
     
    Kira is scheduled to do some dishonest preaching next month, but I think a week of her supporting Dalla sounds like a good way to keep this going according to plan.

    Other then that... @Goldfish? How many healing salves to we have? I would also throw in some decent weapons.
     
    Azel said:
    Kira is scheduled to do some dishonest preaching next month, but I think a week of her supporting Dalla sounds like a good way to keep this going according to plan.

    Other then that... @Goldfish? How many healing salves to we have? I would also throw in some decent weapons.
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    177 remain after sending 50 to support the action in the Basilisk Isles.
     
    Night guys see you tomorrow with the wrap up and the end of the turn. In the meantime you can also vote on level ups for Theon and Asha if you want since both of them leveled in the Toad Island fights.
     
    [X] Plan Aid for Aid
    -[X] We will send Kira to Dalla for a week to assist in this matter and, if time permits, in anything else Dalla can think of.
    -[X] We will send Dany over for a day to blow her entire spellslots on Divination and Scry spells for Dalla.
    -[X] The next supply shipment will contain 50 Healing Salves in nondescript wooden flasks that look like Hill Folk make.
    -[X] Investigate the Painted Dogs to see if they are just stupid or got subverted by the Devils.
    --[X] Plant the Devil coins in their camp so that Grafton can find the trail.
    --[X] If the Painted Dogs are not subverted, 'convince' them of telling anyone who asks that Corbray paid for the raid with those coins. Dalla gets a budget of 1,000 IM for this and can keep whatever she doesn't have to give them.
    --[X] If the Painted Dogs are actually Devil pawns, their clan is done for. Dalla will post a few people to keep an eye on them and to catch anyone that Grafton sends. Once Grafton men make contact, tell them that the Painted Dogs are Devil pawns and let Kira handle selling the story of Corbray being in cahoots with them. Attack and eradicate the clan together with Graftons men to prove that the Hill Folk at large are allies against the pit, not another risk.
     
    Canon Omake: The Lads, Part Two
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    • The Lads Part 2​
    Late AC 292


    Tom Sevenstreams first met Ser Benjicot Brown in some small, run of the mill village called 'Riverbend', because it just strived for that extra level of genericness. The old man was talking to a young lass, this absolutely stunning redhead that Tom had marked an hour earlier for wooing, and for a moment he thought the old bastard had beaten him to the punch. Nonetheless, Tom had charmed many a lady and he was confident he could beat out some geezer, so with a confident smile and a moment to adjust his posture, he swooped in for an entrance.

    Then he got closer and realized that they were talking about how she used magic.

    What.

    Tom froze mid step, indecision racking his body. Now Tom Sevenstrings wasn't what you'd describe as a pious man - Hah! - but he had also lived a happy and fruitful life as a successful bard by knowing when to go for the kill and when to resist the honey, so to say. Witchery was definitely a bridge too far.

    Yet … Tom gave the lass's body a mournful glance, his gaze lingering on her enticing swells. She dressed like a septa, her family no doubt wary of a passing lord deciding to 'bring back the right of first night', but it couldn't hide a beauty like that. The thought of passing that up out of caution, it would be like forfeiting any right to call himself a man! Besides, he'd probably misheard -

    "Can we help you?" The hedge knight slowly asked, squinting at the bard in a manner between confusion and suspicion.

    Fuck, they'd spotted him.

    "Tom of Sevenstreams at your service, good sir!" He said without hesitation, dropping into a little bow. Always paid to be courteous to nobility, you never knew when they'd decide to take umbrage, and although the old guy was hardly a lord he still had a sword and heraldry, which is all that mattered in the end. Giving the lass a wink, he gave his lyre a strum. "A wandering minstrel always in search of the next tale and adventure to be found!" And there was the blush, score! He was having fun tonight.

    "A minstrel?" Tom blinked and looked back the knight, having forgotten about him for a second.

    "Plays music and sings songs?" He added with a smirk although he bit off his next comment. After the 'Floppy Fish' incident, he had been taking pains to keep from further antagonizing nobility. They had no sense of humor. The knight ignored him, a thoughtful expression on his face.

    Tom took a second to get the measure of his competitor. An old guy, sure, his hair bleached white and skin creased, but on a closer look Tom reconsidered his earlier dismissal. There was a … purpose to him, a straightness of frame and firmness to the jaw that didn't belong on a tired old hedge knight, and although his gear was obviously long due to a refurbishment from a blacksmith, they were still maintained with quiet and determined professionalism.

    "So you're a bard." The man stated, his eyes still unfocused.

    "...Yes?" Tom drawled, increasingly aware that he was missing something important here.

    Before that conversation could progress any further, they were interrupted by a fisher with a similar shock of red hair, and through experience Tom nailed him as the concerned father.

    "Masie, are you sure you want to do this?" He fretted, looking tired and stressed. "I know Ser Humphrey will be wroth, but you needn't flee! I'm sure this will blow over soon enough, you just have to lay low for a few months …" For a moment 'Masie' looked uncertain.

    "A-and what happens when the next family with an ill child shows up, begging for aid?" She resolved, standing straight and clenching her fists. "I-I'm not gonna - gonna pretend that I can't help them, father. Not when I can." The man let out a sigh, like he had expected the answer but still felt obligated to try to change her mind. Instead of continuing, he drew her into a hug.

    Tom felt increasingly certain he was missing some important pieces of information.

    "Don't worry, goodman." The knight spoke up. "The men will keep her safe, you have my word." The man gave an unhappy frown but nodded his head. Tom began to slowly slip away -

    "A-are you coming with us?" Masie suddenly said, clasping her hands together and looking up with wide eyes.

    Tom Sevenstrings felt a deep, wracking pain. By the Seven, that stutter! He didn't even think that it was an actual thing that existed! Rallying the last reserves of his will, Tom scrambled for excuses, but as if there was weight on his head his gaze dragged down to those absolutely-

    ***

    "-So Kennick started slipping some coin to men who would let us know when people started speaking of witchery and such," the stupid fucking hedge knight said as Tom continued to grumble to himself about how such things couldn't possibly exist in nature. Witchery, twas plain and simple, and now he was being dragged along on some fool quest for … reasons. "We gotta be quick though, cause both the Lannisters and the Faith are on the prowl for folks practicing magic, either to draft or kill them."

    "Oh my!" Masie gasped, and the bard valiantly resisted rolling his eyes. Straight out of a goddamn tale, she was. He was half certain that the sunlight was conspiring to frame her in the most perfect way at this point. "Can you tell me more about your friends, Ser?"

    "Of course!" The old guy said happily, obviously just as charmed by her as Tom was. Not that the knight would ever dream about trying to get into Masie's pants, oh no! Tom could tell he was one of those men who took themselves and their vows very seriously. All you needed was to give him some shining armor and de-age him thirty years, and they'd belong right in a proper ballad, complete with him tagging along as the comic relief.

    Speaking of which, where exactly were they going? He'd heard something about serving the king, but the hedge knight hardly seemed like an agent of the Crown, nor had he heard anything about King Robert trying to recruit mages. He could just ask, but it would really awkward to reveal that at this point in the journey he still had no idea what they were doing. Well, that wasn't strictly true - the knight 'hired' him to spread the word of he and his fellows had been doing, although the man seemed under the impression that Tom was doing this out of some sort of honor. He'd broach the topic of payment when they were away from the lovely miss Masie, Tom decided.

    In any case the man's companions were apparently a three days ride away from Riverbend, so he'd have plenty of time to salvage this. At the very least he was determined to walk out with a tidy sum of coin.

    ***

    Tom had seen magic before. Three months prior, he'd been spending time at Fairmarket, and a band of mercenaries had been showing off some sort of fancy trinket. He'd investigated, and it turned out they had some sort of amulet that would let a men stick his hand into a fireplace and be completely fine. Not the most dazzling thing ever, and after that Tom had shrugged and believed that magic was like most other things men made rumors and stories out of: much less spectacular in person.

    Watching Masie heal wounds was something else entirely. No trinket with a gimmick - no, this was real, in your face, undeniable actual legitimate magic. He barely managed to stop gaping before Masie turned around, beaming. The miller with the formerly broken leg gave the lass profuse thanks which she accepted with practiced grace, and now they were getting ready to head off like they'd just taken a five-minute break instead of defying the very laws of nature itself.

    "That's impressive work, lass." Ser Benjicot (Tom had finally picked up his name) complimented her, nodding approvingly. "We've a couple of folks who can use magic back at the camp, but none of them can heal like that." Masie blushed profusely and shyly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

    "O-oh, w-well it's just a little talent I've been able to do." The girl stuttered while looking at her feet.

    "Tis a fine one. I imagine many owe their lives and livelihoods to you," said the knight as he prepared to get back on the road, humping their supplies onto the mule. Tom resisted the urge to facepalm as Masie looked like she wanted to either melt into the ground or give the Ser a hug. Out of a goddamn tale, indeed.

    "Can you give me an idea of what exactly I'll be working with?" The bard interrupted, less out of any real desire to learn, and mostly just to get them to quit it. At Ser Benjicot's confused glance he clarified. "The material. You want me to recruit for your band, spread the word, that sort of thing?"

    "That's the idea." The knight said, blinking. "You want things to make songs out of, right?"

    "It's a bit more complicated than that, but yes."

    "Well, I'm not sure I could give the cause credit, let alone the King. We're only a few hours from the Camp, you'll be able to get everything you need there." Benjicot said decisively, turning back forward. Tom was skeptical - there had to at least be a tragic origin story with this guy - but it let it go. He absentmindedly plucked at the strings on his lyre as he watched the familiar landscape roll by, an idea coalescing in his head. An old, humble hedge knight meets a young, beautiful witch and convinces her to follow him on his quest, with a handsome, witty bard tagging along? Now, that had potential for a good story … he just needed to figure out what the actual quest was. Giving Ser Ben a sidelong glance, Tom decided to just wait a bit. It would be really awkward to ask now, after all, and they were almost at the camp.

    ***

    Tom stared up at an unmistakable red and black banner, flapping proudly above the camp of around three dozen warriors. Ser Benjicot gave him a hearty slap on the back as he saw what the bard was looking at.

    "It's a beauty, ain't it? For a while we had to do with whatever we could stitch together, but goodman Kennick managed to smuggle this one out of castle Darry." The knight proudly watched the three-headed dragon flap in the mild afternoon breeze, completely ignorant to the color draining from Tom's face. He moved to say something, stopped, started again, and then just shut his mouth firmly. "I know hiding in the woods isn't terribly honorable or glorious," Ser Benjicot blithely continued, "but we gotta remain clandestine until the Dragon King returns, so for now this'll have to do. You can officially meet all the others tonight, we do a little gathering whenever we officially add more people to the Band." Then he walked away to introduce Masie to the other mages he'd gathered up, leaving Tom in the dust.

    "... Fuck."

    And that was how Tom Sevenstrings committed treason.



    OOC: So, uh. This one got away from me. If my last story was my muse taking me for a wild ride, this was was my muse beating the shit out of me with a tire iron in a dark alley before dragging my twitching body into an unmarked van. Meet Tom of Sevenstreams, everyone, or as he likes to call himself, Tom Sevenstrings. Enjoy the complete 180 in tone?
     
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    • @Azel, a few suggestions if that's alright:

    1. Blood Wished fertility for their hippogriffs.
    2. Consecrate one Heart Tree for Dalla via Day of Change (trust me, we have a hefty surplus even after we finish growing everything we want to grow)

    The Heart Tree especially, though. We can grow it at the very end of the month when we grow all the other trees en mass.

    [X] Azel
     
    Azel said:
    [X] Plan Aid for Aid
    -[X] We will send Kira to Dalla for a week to assist in this matter and, if time permits, in anything else Dalla can think of.
    -[X] We will send Dany over for a day to blow her entire spellslots on Divination and Scry spells for Dalla.
    -[X] The next supply shipment will contain 50 Healing Salves in nondescript wooden flasks that look like Hill Folk make.
    -[X] Investigate the Painted Dogs to see if they are just stupid or got subverted by the Devils.
    --[X] Plant the Devil coins in their camp so that Grafton can find the trail.
    --[X] If the Painted Dogs are not subverted, 'convince' them of telling anyone who asks that Corbray paid for the raid with those coins. Dalla gets a budget of 1,000 IM for this and can keep whatever she doesn't have to give them.
    --[X] If the Painted Dogs are actually Devil pawns, their clan is done for. Dalla will post a few people to keep an eye on them and to catch anyone that Grafton sends. Once Grafton men make contact, tell them that the Painted Dogs are Devil pawns and let Kira handle selling the story of Corbray being in cahoots with them. Attack and eradicate the clan together with Graftons men to prove that the Hill Folk at large are allies against the pit, not another risk.
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    I think providing the Healing Salve in a bulk form for Dallas to repackage as she sees fit might be more useful for her. She can play them off as her own creations and distribute them in such a way as to reinforce the ruse.

    She needs the extra credibility, IMO, as the more clans she gathers, the more likely she and her personal clan are to be challenged for leadership or authority.
     
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