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

[DragonParadox]

Dragon's Reckoning ​

Thirteenth Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC

Though you briefly consider summoning forth and incarnating more land spirits as Leshys akin to those who work and dwell beneath the Great Tree of Lys, the notion comes too close to line you told the Star Admiral you would not cross. It would be coaxing these spirits into a form that would suit the purposes of the Sifters' Guild then profiting by, facilitating and selling their services, the sort of argument one might imagine a Pentosi Magister of a particularly legalistic bent making in court. Better to craft a less versatile being but without any of those concerns, a Devouring Slime comes to mind. It would require safe enclosures be built for them too, of course, but your binding of the living spells at Mosshold is proof enough that this is well within your means.

Grandmaster Huldgus listens to the proposal thoughtfully. At first he seems more inclined to refuse, likely perturbed at the notion of the insatiable unthinking hunger of such a creature, until you offer a free of charge demonstration before talking price which he gracefully accepts. Glancing at Relath's less than pleased expression he nervously adds that he would pay any testing costs, of course, before quickly downing his drink and leaving.

"Why do you put up with that sort of fool thinking he can take advantage of you, cousin?" the Lord of Tolos asks.

After considering which answer would be both true and something Relath would accept you reply: "Does the mountain concern itself with the scratches that passing grains of sand make upon its side? I expect that the guild would buy the filter slimes, and compared to the profit that would garner me the initial cost of the test slime is insignificant."

"A fair point, but I have yet to learn how to be a mountain and sand between the scales itches so," he laughs as the two of you leave the tavern to head back into the city.

As the two of you take a coral-wrought staircase back into the Lower City, Relath shaking off his mortal seeming as he does so, you take a moment to ask him about the Brine Dragon Dominions, both the Great Lords of which you have already heard so much of and any Lesser Wyrms, his peers, be they potential allies or old foes. He admits in what might almost be mistaken for a sheepish manner that he did not even consider making allies along other younger Dragons after the last of his more 'tolerable' clutch mates perished.

The first does not seem to be too grave as draconic spite is weighed. "Vorcalyx used sorcery to tangle my first mating flight, not that I had much of a chance to catch anyone's eye back then. I've always meant to pay him back in kind now that I have unlocked more of the dream-lore."

You chuckle appreciatively. Unlike in a proper challenge, like the one you had flown in to gain Relath's allegiance, it is more or less assumed that one would cheat in some way during a mating flight, so long as it is not so blatant as to be gauche.

However, your companion's tone grows darker as he describes the other Brine Dragon which whom he has a bone to pick. "Fearex is almost thrice as old as me but not near as wise as she thinks herself to be. I had just raided a Far-Spawn temple, built into one of their bile shards..." The Brine Dragon pauses, noticing your confusion. "Part ship, part fortress, they are slow and cumbersome things made of tainted stone that tend to keep to the currents of the dark waters," he explains. "She took my treasures by force, claiming that I was too young to get any use out of them, and would probably harm myself. Some day soon I will pay her back for her generosity." The water grows a little saltier as vitriol and caustic brine flows from his open mouth.

What do you do next?

[] Speak to Kalandragor's envoy

[] Seek out an audience with the envoys of one of the other major realms
-[] Hampa to try and recruit more enchanters
-[] Zerbat to discuss alliance or trade
-[] Dawa to discuss alliance or trade
-[] Kela to see if you might be able to rid the Emir of his dragon foe
-[] Dalaqua to discuss alliance, trade or recruiting artisans
-[] Mardja to discuss alliance, trade or recruiting artisans
-[] Dyutho to learn more of the Deep Realms and perhaps the harvesting of riverine

[] Seek an audience with the envoys of one of the Dragon Dominions
-[] Althazi the Deathless to see about hiring his services, or those of his subjects
-[] Vornath and Thyrax, you have made use of raiders before, perhaps you could keep them in line long enough to unleash upon the Deep Ones

[] Buy something
-[] Lore on the Deep Ones
-[] More detailed maps of the Planes
-[] Exotic warbeasts for the tritons

[] Visit the temple of the Moonsingers in Vialesk

[] Deal with the weightier of Relath's grudges, a Dragon's hoard would not go amiss and neither would more goodwill from the Lord of Tolos

[] Write in

OOC: I hope all the vote options are not too overwhelming, I just tried to collect all the ideas floating around for easy access.

 

[DragonParadox]

In Search of Slender Hopes ​

Third Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC

In his youth Malarys Vanor had never been particularly enamored with the greater magics of conjuration, much preferring divination that sharpened the eye and the mind, or transmutation that molded the world to his will to those arts that required one to bargain with or compel a spirit from the beyond for power. The rewards of Fiend binding were so rarely worth the risk and as for brighter spirits, they most often refused the call of Balerion's priests and when they did deign to grace a summoning circle with their hallowed presence their price might be weightier in its own way than even the greediest of Fiends. Thus it was with some surprise that the now Lord Justice Malarys Vanor realized he quite enjoyed the company of Yrael Elaenos, governor of what had once been the City of Monsters.

Perhaps it was simply that the grim truth of Heaven's breaking that had snuffed out the harsh light that so often blinded one to more practical concerns, or mayhap he simply had a great deal more in common with the steel-winged Archon than the minstrel incarnate or the ancient assassins so quick to their vials of poison and the Dornish Prince who was just a step behind, likely because he was tangled in some new lover's tokar or the Fey...

He cut off the thought abruptly before his temples started throbbing again. Instead, he followed the Archon's bright gaze out the window to the City of the Great Masters, Meereen the Great by the banks of the Skahazadhan from which no man drank who wished to see the next sunrise, Meereen the Bloody, painted in the blood of a thousand slaves. Meereen the Decrepit it should be called in these days, where the empty windows of abandoned shops and empty houses looked up resentfully at the garishly painted pyramids of the highborn, a city twice ruined by the heirs of Valyria.

Spoiler: Meereen

"What do you see, my lord?" the mage priest asked curiously.

"A poisoned well waiting to be drunk by the unwary," came the unexpected reply. "This wedding between Pahl and Loraq seems madness to me, and not just for the blood and pain with which it is to be celebrated. Where do they find the coin for the feasts, the games, the supposed 'charity'? House Pahl is rich that much is clear, but Meereen is being bled of coin more with every day."

"You suspect our true foe of something so simple as buying their allegiance?" the Lord Justice asked, surprised.

"It would be a straightforward subtlety, as King Viserys would put it, but that does not necessarily make it weak. Given the Graces' association with the Sons of the Harpy and their vanquished queen there seems to be some question as to who would perform the ceremony. Should 'a priest from a far off land' speak to the glory, the wealth, the power of his god, many of the Great Masters would be inclined to listen. They see the noose tightening as easily as we do, Lord Vanor, and they have had precious little else before their eyes for years..."

"And they lack the wit to understand that all they would have to do is duck their head to avoid it, yes," the magelord finished.

Now it was the spirit's turn to look in askance. "You think King Viserys would take them into his service?"

"He has cracked the First Pact that he might accept the oaths of Baatezu. What is mere mortal enmity besides that?" With a shake of his head he dismissed the thought. "In any case it is unlikely all but the most far thinking of the Meereenese would take the offer even with Dragons at the gates. Their hatred of Valyria runs deep and only their need to trade slaves for silver quenched it, yet now the Daughters of Valyria turn their faces from them one by one. The Unsullied were made fools of during the siege of Tyrosh, then unmade into full men by sorcery."

"Do you believe what the the shadow-kin brothers told us, that the Unsullied hate the 'heresy' even more than their masters do, then?" Yrael asked after a moment.

Malarys considered the matter for a long moment sniping from a cup of lemon water. "Oh yes, envy is a dreadful thing, particularly that of the lowly and lost who have had the hope of rising from the muck beaten out of them and now no longer desire anything more than to drag others down with them, but it bears remembering that such sentiments would be the loudest for the masters would find them sweet to the ear."

"Whereas thoughts of rebellion would be hidden, yes," the Archon Lord replied. "We can but hope some of the priests of the Lady of Spears are so inclined, else our warnings will fall upon deaf ears."

"Never fear, my lord, the Great Masters are not so skilled as to expunge all hope even from the most wretched of their slaves, that is the domain of He whose power we have come to these shores to contest," Malarys replied, faint comfort indeed, but better than none.

OOC: This came out more abstract because of the nature of both Malarys and Yrael, never fear though, we are doing the full dive into Meereenese culture and atmosphere next update with Oberyn and the Drow.

 

[DragonParadox]

A Bargain Carved in Flesh ​

Thirteenth Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC

It is soon after the meeting with the Grandmaster that you experience the closest thing Vialesk knows to evening. The silvery light of the sunken star fades to soft twilight with the passage of an almost incomprehensibly large shoal of glittering fish from the depths. According to Breath Taker such migrations are uncommon, but not cause for alarm unless one spots too many large fish swimming with the throng for that must mean they are being chased by something larger still.

Intrigued, you bid him to seek out any more lore of that sort, or indeed anything that would be counted common knowledge in the Boundless Sea but might be missing from the shelves of your library. Your mother decides to lend a helping hand and you suspect to ensure the priest is not too hesitant to spend coin. Thankfully, that is not a problem you can imagine Relath having as you ask him to seek out any books and scrolls of note on the Deep Ones, be it the ordering of their strange castes, an accounting of their most common tactics or the nature of their uncanny mind magics.

After parting ways you swim through the darkened waters until you come again to Anora's chambers to meet Kalandragor's envoy, for while there is no specific law mandating how potentially rival Dragons are to conduct themselves within Vialesk custom inclines strongly towards open dealings under the eye of a neutral party, so that any draconic feuds have less of a chance of tarring the city. You find yourself cautiously optimistic at the fact that the envoy was content with the arrangement. Presumably whatever she wishes to ask you in her lord's name would not upset the Guild Council.

***​

Your first sight of the herald of Kalandragor the Rune Carved is a ripple in the water far closer than you would have accounted for. A woman's face shows itself, as much animate water as living flesh, before growing more solid like a mirage suddenly gaining substance, sea-green hair flowing out behind her. She is a true Marid, not one of their scattered offspring, you realize, startled, though not so much as to waver in your greeting.

Spoiler: Ramaza

"Hail and well met, my lady, may the waves of our purpose flow together this day," you nod graciously, still weighing in your mind how the Dragon might have gained the service of one of the proud tempestuous genies.

"Bright fortune to you also, Lord of Fire. I, Ramazaof the House of Ifril, greet you in peace in the name of my lord, for though he has never seen one of your kindred in the flesh he knows well your strength and wisdom both," she replies, somehow managing to be both ornate in her language and blunt in her purpose.

No sooner had she sat down across from you that she draws forth an oiled scroll from a pocket of her sea-silk robe and unrolls it upon the table, keeping silent for a moment while you observe it. The being depicted there seems to be a Giant, skin ashen grey and hair the color of fire, bearing some kinship to the Fire Giants that make up the mailed fist of the Brazen Throne, but this Giant is different, not only in his armor, crafted with masterful skill and carved with seals of power and ruin, but in the lines of his face. You see nothing of the savagery you had come to expect from those who take the Sultan's coin for the chance to torment those smaller than themselves, there is a cold calculating purpose it its gaze. As you watch the subtly enchanted scroll the image move, revealing arcane markings not just upon the Giant's armor but his skin also as wisps of wild leashed lightning dance in his left hand.

Spoiler: Rune Giant

"What am I looking at?" you ask at last, for no memory flickers to the forefront of your thoughts. Either a very uncommon being or a new one, perhaps both.

"That is what my benighted flame-crazed kin call a Rune Giant," Ramaza explains, eyes flashing with disgust at the mention of the Efreeti. "A warrior crafted as a smith crafts a fine blade. They unite the brute strength of Giants and the spark of arcane power slumbering within without the 'unfortunate' independence of those born to storm or cloud, in truth they are the finest slavers of other giants one could imagine. My lord has no interest in that aspect of their nature, his subjects hold to their oaths from honor and their pragmatism both, but he would much wish to study flesh-bound spells that he might craft his own script. Obviously he does not expect you to capture such a fearsome foe alive, bodies will be more than sufficient. He is willing to pay seven-thousand of your imperial marks for each giant corpse in gold or treasure from his hoard. My lord is of course willing to provide the locations where you might find and slay such Rune-Carved Giants if you agree to the a collaboration."

"Your pardon, my lady, but asking me to fetch corpses as a cat does dead mice seems less like collaboration and more like a mercenary contract," you reply in a carefully neutral tone.

"Should you wish a deeper collaboration in light of your demonstrated skills of shaping living things, my lord would be agreeable in principle," she responds instantly. She had obviously spoken to her draconic lord sometime after you had revealed the flesh-crafting to the mercenaries.

How do you respond to Kalandragor's offer?

[] Accept the bounty

[] Make a counter-offer
-[] Write in

[] Ask more questions
-[] Write in

[] Politely decline

[] Write in

OOC: Sorry this took so long, I had to crop the picture of the Rune Giant myself since the ones online had a bunch of text attached and that looked terrible.

 

[DragonParadox]

From Deepest Sea to Farthest Shore ​

Thirteenth Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC

Though the offer is intriguing and you will certainly not refuse the chance to strike against the Efreeti, time remains more precious than gold or gems, more precious even than knowledge. You have too much to do in the months ahead to set off giant hunting, and the joint study while even more tempting would require yet more time. Even with the ability to be in two places at once Lya does not lack for projects to set her mind towards. "I fear I must decline both bounty and study for the moment, more urgent tasks call on my attention, though should I come across any Giants so empowered or priorities shift I shall seek out your master by proxy or in person to revisit the offer."

Ramaza takes the answer in stride. "As you say, Flameborn, my lord understands the strictures of difficult and delicate personal projects. A Dragon's powers are many and it is no easy task to improve upon it. The sluggard dreams his life away waiting for power to flow into his bones, but the truly great set out with diligence and craft."

"Speaking of that craft, does he practice his runecraft on any canvas besides that of flesh?" you ask curiously, the better to know which projects he might be of use with.

The Marid envoy pauses a long moment to consider her answer. "I have not known him do so," she answers at last, careful not to unwittingly imply that Kalandragor is less skilled than he is.

***​

Between them your mother and Breath Taker had managed to find no small measure of lore, tablets of limestone and finely cut coral, scrolls of fine eel skin and even parchment kept in the highest, driest parts of the Upper City. Nothing as grand or earthshaking as what you had brought from your first trip to the Opaline Vault, of course, for you are no longer a newcomer to the Inner spheres, but it should be of use to any Scholarum students minded to summon spirits of the Boundless Sea to their cause, or any merchants inclined to trade in Vialesk.

Spoiler: Common Lore

Common Lore

• Knowledge (the Planes) +1
• Knowledge (Economics) +3
• Knowledge (Law) +1
• Profession (Trade) +5
• Excellent Navigational Charts on Vialesk and its neighbors
• Full Compilation of Vialesk and Marid Legal Codes

Cost: 8,000 IM

Though Relath has not been able to match his recent trading coup he did find quite a few books recounting battles of note against the Deep Ones and their monstrous legions, with an account of which tactics were the most successful and what weaknesses to be aware of in turn. The prize of his collection is a single battered tome bound in shark skin which he apparently found languishing in the depths of a pawnshop where the owner did not even know its value. It contains the notes of a rather eccentric Marid who sought to 'unlock the powers of the mind' and decided that the best way to do so was to capture an illithid and torture the information out of it by increasingly extreme means. Leafing through the book is almost enough to make you feel a twinge of pity for the mind-eater, but mostly it makes you regret that the author had not been a bit more methodical and careful in his interrogation.

Spoiler: Far Realm Lore

Far Realm Lore

• Knowledge (Dungeoneering): +2
• Knowledge (History) +2
• Knowledge (Psionics): +3

Cost: 3,500 IM

What do you do next?

[] Seek out an audience with the envoys of one of the other major realms
-[] Hampa to try and recruit more enchanters
-[] Zerbat to discuss alliance or trade
-[] Dawa to discuss alliance or trade
-[] Kela to see if you might be able to rid the Emir of his Dragon foe
-[] Dalaqua to discuss alliance, trade or recruiting artisans
-[] Mardja to discuss alliance, trade or recruiting artisans
-[] Dyutho to learn more of the Deep Realms and perhaps the harvesting of Riverine

[] Seek an audience with the envoys of one of the Dragon Dominions
-[] Althazi the Deathless to see about hiring his services, or those of his subjects
-[] Vornath and Thyrax, you have made use of raiders before, perhaps you could keep them in line long enough to unleash upon the Deep Ones

[] Buy something
-[] Exotic warbeasts for the Tritons
-[] Write in

[] Visit the temple of the Moonsingers in Vialesk

[] Deal with the weightier of Relath's grudges, a dragon's hoard would not go amiss and neither would more goodwill from the Lord of Tolos

[] Write in

OOC: The book Relath found was not exceptional enough to get its own library entry, since the source was only a common illithid, but since it is a psionics bonus I thought it was important enough to call out the circumstances of finding it in the narrative.

 

[DragonParadox]

An Unlikely Escape​

Fifth Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC

The sound of stamping feet passed up and down the stands like a living wave, the screams of the dying echoing from below mingling with the angry bellows of beasts. If only the wretched sun did not beat down so hot and the humans bathed more often than twice a moon-turn and did not try to cover the stink with rancid 'perfume', Morwyn might have enjoyed the spectacle more. Horned beasts starved and whipped to blood madness faced slaves and criminals armed with rope, steel and fire, each weapon seemingly designed to drive the beasts to greater heights of savagery rather than bring the proceedings to an overly abrupt end. A pity the humans were so much more fragile. There is something to be said for the symbolism of giving them no more armor than the beasts, the assassin supposed, but it seemed foolish to squander the lives of trained fighters with such little fanfare. Then again, if Tuin was to be believed the waste was the point, a show of wealth, of power. Cretins, victories showed power, craft showed power, not a willingness to toss silver down a chasm...

Spoiler: Fighting Pit

Even as the assassin pondered the follies of his unwitting hosts he moved through the crowd, on the pretense of getting a better look, drawing ever closer to the one whose presence here had drawn the eye of the dragon-mage, for he much wished to know what a lord of one of the richest Houses in the city might wish to see at one of the least prestigious of its fighting pits.

Shagaz zo Loraq appeared particularly ridiculous, even by the broad standards of absurdity Morwyn had grown used to since his awakening in this age of mortals. His greying hair had been worked into the shape of 'wings' with oil and more of that insufferable perfume, Harpy's Gold they called it, and it was in the shape of those beasts that the hair of the 'patriarch' of House Loraq was supposed to be set in. The man seemed more like he had grown two mold covered horns from his temples. Careful now, even the foolish Ettin can snare you if you walk into its lair without watching for traps, he reminded himself, and it was well that that he had done so.

One of the shaven-headed guards, a giant of a man covered head to toe in jagged scars and bearing a twisted horn bound in red gold, looked out over the crowd, eyes suddenly narrowing as they rested upon the veiled Drow. Morwyn did not stop to think on how he could have been discovered, he stepped back on sheer instinct behind an old woman garishly dressed, her skin stained with the cheap indigo dye of her robes. Yet before he could make good his escape a gnarled hand grasped at his wrist. "Well well, what have we here... stay a while dearie," the crone whispered, the sound all but lost under the roar of the crowd and the sound of snapping ribs. Her fingers held him like bars of iron, yet the assassin had one more trick to play before drawing steel and spilling blood. Striking his heels together he allowed the enchantment bound into the silver to carry him two rungs higher in the stands.

Anyone trying to follow him on foot would have to push their way through the crowd to the steps, unless they were willing to cut themselves a path, but even then the corpses would slow them...

"How did you do that?" a small voice squeaked besides him.

The Drow warrior glanced down to see a girl hiding beneath the bench he had materialized in front of. He briefly considered killing her to hide his trail, but concluded that her death would reveal more than she could tell so he dismissed her from his mind. She would not be so easily dismissed however: "Are you hiding from Shit-Grass, too?"

It took the Drow a moment to realize the crude word play. Shagaz, Shit-Grass... Taking a closer look he realized she wore a fine purple tokar fringed with amethysts and pearls. Beneath the dirt she had managed to smear on herself hiding there the girl looked as ill-fitting in these stands as the elderly Shaqaz. "You were brought here to meet with him?" he asked slowly. If he dare not get close enough to his primary target to listen in on the conversation than he might as well bring back something or someone of note.

"Uh-ah," the girl nodded unwillingly. Then in a smaller voice wavering slightly with fear: "Don't want to."

That made things easier. Morwyn smiled charmingly as he swung his magic bag around and opened the larger of the compartments, thankfully empty. "Well then it's your lucky day," he said, conjuring heatless flame around the rim of the bag. "This is a magical portal that will take you far from here and you will not have to see 'Shit Grass ever again'."

"Is it really?" the child asked dubiously. "There doesn't seem to be anything there."

Sighing slightly at having found not only a clever mortal, but one so young, the assassin replied. "It's a magic bag that will let me carry you out of here without being spotted."

The girl considered the offer for a long moment before surprisingly saying: "My name is Jezhene Pahl, what's yours?"

The mortal mask he had crafted to come here today would have been particularly absurd to affect under the circumstances: "Morwyn," the Drow said at last.

Without another word the Jezhene jumped into the bag and Morwyn made his way into the streets, hoping the dragon-mage would find some use for her.

OOC: Poor Morwyn had some very poor rolls to start out, but he managed to squeak by without a fight and he'll even have something to bring to Malarys like the proverbial cat.

 

[DragonParadox]

Bridge to Distant Skies ​

Fourteenth Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC

It is oft told in Vialesk that the star Palixna has at its heart a tear of the Hope-Bringer spilled into the dark waters by the mercy of the goddess in a time long before the stone skeleton of the city floated close or the first coral budded. Although the Dragons and Marid dispute the claim as mortal superstition, not even the eldest of their number can be said to have seen the silver light kindle with their own eyes, and so the belief in the legend remains strong in the City of Splendid Waves, as does faith in the Wanderer's Lantern, for you imagine much the same reason why she is beloved of the sailors of Braavos or the far-riding nomads of the Jogos Nhai. She is one who weaves fate, but leaves room for the traveler's good fortune, asks for no grand temples nor ruinous sacrifices, but only that the candle be left burning in the dark to draw those lost upon the waves.

The principal temple of the Wanderer's Lantern is not so grand as the vast domed temple of the Silver Moon in Braavos, though in its own way it is as prestigious. The tallest spire in the city, higher than the palaces of merchant princes where once the greatest of the vanquished Dragon Lords held court, now houses the Bell of Peace which rings out every twelve hours in remembrance of the sacrifice of those who died in the Uprising. It is, as far as you can tell, the central pillar of time keeping in the city by which all other gears and arcane mechanisms turn.

As you look up following the sound to its source, you think of Lya and wonder if she and Dany were done with the rune-wrought keystone by which you hope to strike at Tiamat. Turning your thoughts away from Vialesk, you send the question back upon a thread of arcane power.

"Just finished today," comes the weary but satisfied answer from Dany

A Dragon Chained Progress 50/12 (Complete)

"I was going to do some light reading and spell study," Lya's faintly echoing thought answers in turn. It takes you a moment to realize she means both at the same time in different bodies rather than sequentially. "Have you found any interesting books?"

She is interested in the lore Relath found, of course, but also curious enough to see what the halls of the Goddess under whose roof she had had grown up looks like in a world without moon or sky.

***​

Relath has little interest in the doings of gods and Breath Taker asks to spend a few hours to visit old friends, leaving you, your mother, Dany, and Lya to ascend the marble steps of the Silver Spire. The halls are crowded, of course, but orderly for all that, out of respect for the goddess and age old practice both. Still, you wished you might have a bit more time to study the carvings upon the walls, for even a passing glance is enough to reveal countless stars carved into the walls, and among them two circles and two crescents, the Faces of the Goddess, the marks of the distant moon.

Is this temple older than the Sundering, you wonder, or had the symbols been passed by word of mouth from one priest to the next through the ages until they could be immortalized in stone? Whatever the truth, it is strange to think that the look of the night sky, that any could freely see at home, was a divine secret in this city of sorcery and wonder.

At the summit you are greeted by a temple attendant with a pitcher of pure sweet water to refresh yourself after the climb, but are otherwise allowed to walk about freely, whether you wish to speak to a priest simply enjoy the view.

What do you do?

[] Try to facilitate reuniting the long sundered branches of the faith
-[] Write in

[] Seek to learn more of the temple's history

[] Write in

OOC: I thought about doing an interlude for A Dragon Chained, but it just did not seem interesting enough to be worth the screen time. There will be plenty of time to describe the the anti-Tiamat anchor when you guys actually use the thing.

 

[DragonParadox]

Mirrored Truths ​

Fourteenth Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC

Were it not for the crescent tiara upon his brow you would not know the high priest of the goddess from any other of the white robed figures mingling with the guests, yet looking more closely at the smooth face framed by snow-white hair, not old nor young but ageless you suspect, there might be more to his position than the usual machinations of gaining and keeping power. The fact that you cannot see a single thread of magic clinging to him only confirms the notion. "Well met, Holy One, we have come far yet see one who is known to us..." you begin your account.

At no point does the high priest, Uldros by name, seem inclined to take the conversation to a less public place. He listens to your account of the Garden and how it had been sundered, of the moon set among the firmament that has long guided sailors through the trackless waters and when Lya begins to speak of the Goddess of the Silver Moon to whom praise is given in song and silent contemplation both he nods thoughtfully.

"And so you have come to believe that She who watched over your childhood is Our Lady?" he asks, not doubtfully, but obviously weighing each word with utmost care.

"I could not say for certain for my home was poor in magic then and rare were the times when the gods could act upon it," Lya replies. "Yet many of the symbols..." she traces a crescent that might be the waning moon or just as easily a ripple in deep water, "and the tenets are akin."

"Many things can be akin without being mirrored," Uldros answers, then his expression unexpectedly shifts into a smile. "Yet even if it is not Our Lady whom you know there is virtue to be found in the teachings you spoke of and much use in knowing them more deeply. Bright Hearts see allies in those like themselves even as darkness seethes in jealousy at imitation. I would send envoys to this Braavos aboard your ship if you would allow it."

"Of course," you nod, unsurprising that he had known about the Moonchaser. She is unusual enough in both form and banner to have drawn any inquisitive eye, and cautious as he may be it is clear the high priest does not lack for curiosity. "I would also make a donation to your cause, Holy One. All worlds could do with more guides in the dark places," you add as your cloak shifts slightly around you to reveal a plain chest filled with pearlsteel crowns.

Lost 20,000 IM

"Generosity from those who find good fortune is always welcome," the priest replies, leading you to suspect that he might know something of the trades Relath made also.

"What are your thoughts in regard to the Moonsingers if you and they should indeed call upon the same power?" your mother asks as acolytes move to take away the chest. She hides her worry well, but you suspect she is concerned about religious upheaval in Braavos, as strange spirits come and claim to speak for the goddess who of all the powers welcome in the Secret City is closest to its heart.

"Light fills many currents," the priest is quick to reply. "Should they feel content apart from us then so it shall be and each will learn about another face of the Lady from the other."

As pleasant a message as one could hope for in the meeting of two creeds long sundered. From what you know of the Moonsingers it shall more likely than not be reciprocated, but there is one other matter you would speak of not to the priest, but to the goddess herself. The time to face Tiamat and the ill-fortuned Blackfyre heir approaches.

What do you do next?

[] Try to ask for the goddess' aid against Tiamat
-[] Write in how

[] Leave be for now
-[] Write in what to do next

OOC: This feels really short, but I can't really think of any way to continue without a vote and trying to insert other information I forgot like the Livestone does not work.

 

[DragonParadox]

Malfeasance and Mummery ​

Fifth Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC

The docks of Meereen once heavy with the sound of clinking chains as thousands upon thousands of newly broken slaves were consigned to pitch black holds now sounded more often with the creak of boards under the tread of idle longshoremen, freemen by ancient custom going back to the days of old Ghis, and the squeak of rats who might just be counted the freest living things in the Red City, they surely seemed to have the run of the place. Kira's hands itched for a quill and parchment to lay down the feeling into notes. Alas that she was on lookout duty and could not take her eyes from the alleyway opening before the mouth of their current hiding place.

Glyra had called it the 'Sunken Palace' in a fit of Fey wit and the name had stuck, but it had most likely been a bathhouse that slowly slipped into the clinging sandy earth until at last it was simply built over, more or less intact. The Tolosi spies had stumbled over it last month and used some of the plentiful gold they had been given to buy the shop whose basement was the only easy access to the place. Since then they had all been working like moles to build new escape routes and hidden tunnels, with even Wisdom Malarys and Yrael setting their arts to help when they were not pouring over reports or out looking for answers themselves.

Usually that came down to having a gremlin on watch, but all of them were busy with some errand or another leaving Kira watching for enemies and trying not to wince when the Unsullied 'trainer' marched his charges by, cracking his whip and spewing profanity. No... not spewing, that would imply he did not know what he was doing, but the detestable little man most certainly did. Every insult, every humiliating task was meant to impress upon the boys that they were nothing, that they were not to think unless their master bade them, and never were they to feel.

So it was with some relief that the incarnate noticed the assassin swagger around a corner giving, the 'all clear' sign while feigning a yawn. He and his bother were still best at that, of course, but they had started to teach the inquisitors, Kira suspected, out of sheer boredom as much as their proclaimed frustration over 'mortals that need to yammer like parrots'.

Looking past Morwyn she spotted a girl walking in his shadow, at first mistaking her for a gremlin, but quickly recognizing her small measured steps as those of one used to wearing a tokar, though she now wore a patched cloak likely stolen from a clothesline. What had the cat dragged in? she wondered.

***​

"Wisdom, Excellence..." The Drow's tongue lingered on the second word as though he found it particularly funny to call Yrael by that name. "May I present Miss Jezhene Pahl. She did not enjoy the company she found herself in so I took it upon myself to divest her of it."

The Lord Justice gave a small sigh, never taking his eyes off the girl. "We have not even been here a week, we barely know more of the players than can be gleaned on the streets, and you decide bringing her here is a sensible notion." Then seemingly more to pay back the assassin for his brashness he performed what looked like every divination spell in his repertoire to ensure that she was clean, though finding nothing... or so at least Kira thought before she felt a surreptitious spell open her mind to the mage: "The child is possessed by a Devil, one skillful enough to as to have almost escaped my sight. It is rather carefully not doing anything right now lest I take action."

"I shall meditate upon an exorcism," Yrael's reply came swiftly, as though he were afraid the Lord Justice would not have patience for it, but that fear proved unfounded. "Kira, keep it busy, pretend to try to put the girl at ease."

So did she play her part, the incarnate of song and story, with skillful smiles and deft words, for both kindness to children and the entrapment of fiends came naturally to her, until at last Yrael finished his discreet prayer. The Archon willed himself into the center of the room in a flash of silver fire, his words like a hammer upon the soul's shackles, the memory of sundered Heavens made manifest if only for an instant.

Jezhene fell to her knees, her mouth forming into a wordless scream, but the Fiend within could not deny the call. She vomited up what looked like a tide of clear glass, unseen but for the spells that sharpened their eyes. Even as the amorphous mass congealed into a snarling infernal visage Wisdom Malarys reached out to seal it in a lantern adorned with coiling dragons.

"Good job," the Lord Justice said, raising his eyes to Morwyn.

"No need to pour salt in the wound," the Drow snapped, staring daggers at the mage.

"I'm not, you did your job well in securing the girl, I did mine in removing the Devil," came the perfectly level reply. "If you could do both I would be elsewhere, for there are more tasks than hands to do them. The censure I delivered earlier was as much a deception as the one Lady Kira perpetrated."

The assassin nodded slowly, as though he did not fully believe the answer, but he could not quite disbelieve it either.

OOC: The Glass Devil was a Fiend of Possession, the combination of being ethereal and naturally invisible made it so even Malarys had to roll to spot it.

 

[DragonParadox]

One More Drop in the Well ​

Fourteenth Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC

It is no simple thing to address a Goddess, being as they are creatures of far distant realms whose gaze is as remote from mortality as their perch, ageless as they are ever-changing. Yet looking around, you one can see plenty of petitioners come to do just that, their humble prayers rising from the top of the spire by the silvered light of the sunken star, hopefully to the ear of the Goddess. You know yourself too well to think that you can manage humility, but courtesy is easily achieved. This is, after all, the patron Goddess of Braavos, the power under whose precepts Lya was raised, and it was in her temple that the two of you met. You catch Lya's eye and her wry smile. Best not to mention that part, perhaps, given that your purpose that day was to blackmail one of the faithful, you remind yourself.

Fixing your gaze upon the fiery heart of Palixna until your eyes begin to ache, you will your thoughts into the ether, though for once without any sorcery behind them. "Hear me, ye who bears the guiding lantern, I ask for your aid to perhaps free a child's soul from foulest of slavery, or should fate be less kind to give him peace before he and those who follow him can bring ruin to your faithful in my realm, as they have done among the warriors of the plains."

The light seems to grow at once brighter and clearer, as in your mind resounds a voice alike enough to yours to be an echo and yet not, the truth of the One who answers you manifest in every syllable. "Lay your Well of Souls down in the light of the next full moon and I shall add my blessings to the others you have called upon for the task."

As the presence withdraws, you consider whether to share the certainty that this is indeed the same Goddess that looks out over the lagoons of Braavos with the high priest. It would still only be your word... better that he discover the truth for himself. You suspect his patron would prefer it thus in any case.

***​

Although Breath Taker is still busy, you meet Relath soon after at one of the Lower City's many coral-encased theaters. The theatrical tradition here is a good bit more acrobatic than you are used to seeing mummers perform, helped along no doubt by the fact that the players can move up and down as easily as left or right, the water bearing their weight through dramatic loops and twists that signal inner turmoil or unexpected joy. Surprisingly, there is no magic used in the performance, only stagecraft, mingling sorcery and acting being counted gauche in the Vialesk tradition.

"It is rooted in the fact that the old Dragon Lords did not allow their servants to make use of magic for frivolous purposes," Relath explains, surprising you not so much in the tidbit of lore itself as in the fact that he had sought it out. There was a time, not so long ago, when the Dragon would have counted the things mortals do to amuse themselves far below his notice.

"I wonder if we could hire a few of them to perform in the Deep," Dany muses. "We boasted to the sellswords that we have an undersea city in Sorcerer's Deep, but it's more of an undersea settlement for now, a place for the tritons to put down roots, but not yet one to draw visitors."

"The new pilots' academy has half its classes there," you remind her. "Given how helpful a swimmer's instincts are for that, Beryl thought it would be worth the minor complications."

Expand Military Academy in Sorcerer's Deep (Officers) Progress 6/1 (Complete)

Expand Military Academy in Sorcerer's Deep (Pilots) 22/20 (Complete)

Your mother shakes her head at the notion that breathing underwater is a minor complication, but she does not comment aloud. Once the play has run its course, it is time once more to decide where you will seek alliance, trade or both at once.

What do you do next?

[] Seek out an audience with the envoys of one of the other major realms
-[] Hampa to try and recruit more enchanters
-[] Zerbat to discuss alliance or trade
-[] Dawa to discuss alliance or trade
-[] Kela to see if you might be able to rid the Emir of his Dragon foe
-[] Dalaqua to discuss alliance, trade or recruiting artisans
-[] Mardja to discuss alliance, trade or recruiting artisans
-[] Dyutho to learn more of the Deep Realms and perhaps the harvesting of Riverine

[] Seek an audience with the envoys of one of the Dragon Dominions
-[] Althazi the Deathless to see about hiring his services, or those of his subjects
-[] Vornath and Thyrax, you have made use of raiders before, perhaps you could keep them in line long enough to unleash upon the Deep Ones

[] Buy something
-[] Exotic warbeasts for the Tritons
-[] Write in

[] Deal with the weightier of Relath's grudges, a Dragon's hoard would not go amiss and neither would more goodwill from the Lord of Tolos

[] Write in

OOC: I might do an interlude with the military academy later, but for now a mention here is better than another dry report update.

 

[DragonParadox]

Of Seals and Singers ​

Sixteenth Day of the Eleventh Month 293 AC

The next two days are filled with minor diplomatic fetes in which you find yourself once more in a familiar position, the curiosity from a far off land, the opportunity for daring traders hoping perhaps that you had not sold off all your goods yet and they can still ride the wave to handsome profits. Alas for them that particular well has run dry, which is not to say that you are not interested in trade of any sort.

You find the envoy of the Emir of Hampa, a cheerful merman with a love of fine foods and kelp wine, quite willing to offer a letter of introduction practically from the moment you and Lya approach him, though that may have been from the mistaken impression that it would ignite draconic tempers should he refuse. After some more time spent calming his fears and giving a fuller accounting of your realm he calls on some of his kin and allies back home to gather 'ventursome enchanters'. Though you suspect it is more often a case of enchanters whose debts are too large to refuse the suggestion you do not speak up against it, the contracts you are presented with are fair enough to the mages, well removed from what you might consider debt bondage. Perhaps they will even decide that Sorcerer's Deep is a better place for them than Hampa after a few years.

Spoiler: Hampa Deal

Enchanters Acquired:
21 Apprentice Enchanters (Craft Wondrous Items)
17 Journeymen Enchanters (Craft Wondrous Items; Craft Magical Arms and Armor)
5 Master Enchanters (Craft Wondrous Items; Craft Magical Arms and Armor; Craft Construct)

Hiring Fee: 108,360 IM

Monthly Cost: 9,030 IM

Unfortunately the envoy of Dalaqua, a prideful man in shimmering Mithral scales, proves more resistant to the offer your mother and Dany bring. Trade is of course welcome, for no ruler would be so foolish as to bar the gates of his realm to profit, but an alliance he insists must be discussed with the Emir himself. "Even Dragons do not command mighty Dalaqua," are his final words, leaving you quite relieved that you had not sent Relath to negotiate there. He has been doing remarkably well in showing the people of Vialesk more of draconic charm than draconic arrogance, but it is always best not to tempt fate.

Speaking of Relath, distant Mardja has proven more amenable to the notion of an alliance, though Caravan Master Zorund, the current envoy to Vialesk, is in no position to discuss artisan contracts of any sorts. He writes you a long letter of introduction to his lord and several more to the heads of the most influential guilds. Though that leaves the matter of sending an envoy to the distant court or leave the matter for another day.

Gained Mardja Letters of Introduction

As these discussions were taking place behind gilded doors many other citizens of Vialesk decide to answer the other call you had bid the horn bearers carry far and wide, calling on all who might add to the culture and presence of Sorcerer's Deep as an undersea city as much as one that exists beneath the waves. Here it seems your free hand with silver has paid for itself once again. The crowd is so large you momentarily find yourself wondering how you are going to carry them all back, until you remember the Moonchaser, moored below the city. Actors and entertainers, poets, painters, singers and so many more flock at the chance to obtain passage to the Garden where they might try their luck, gold clinking merrily in their pockets.

Lost 50,000 IM

Sorcerer's Deep sees an influx of aquatic artists and performers
What do you do next?

[] Seek out an audience with the envoys of one of the other major realms
-[] Zerbat to discuss alliance or trade
-[] Dawa to discuss alliance or trade
-[] Kela to see if you might be able to rid the Emir of his dragon foe
-[] Dyutho to learn more of the Deep Realms and perhaps the harvesting of Riverine

[] Travel to one of the Emirates whose envoys you have spoken to in person
-[] Dalaqua, perhaps the Emir should prove less prickly than his envoy
-[] Mardja to build on a good first impression

[] Seek an audience with the envoys of one of the Dragon Dominions
-[] Althazi the Deathless to see about hiring his services, or those of his subjects
-[] Vornath and Thyrax, you have made use of raiders before, perhaps you could keep them in line long enough to unleash upon the Deep Ones

[] Buy something
-[] Exotic warbeasts for the Tritons
-[] Write in

[] Deal with the weightier of Relath's grudges, a Dragon's hoard would not go amiss and neither would more goodwill from the Lord of Tolos

[] Write in

OOC: I did a bit of summarizing above since nothing particularly interesting happened at the meetings. The rolls were quite low except for Relath, though Viserys made up for it with sheer weight of buff spells.