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

[DragonParadox]

The Final Gambit ​

Eleventh Day of the Ninth Month 294 AC

There is a gentle hum of healing magic from your shoulder, Varys doing her best to mend your wounds, but your hardly notice her.

You heal 25 Damage
(Viserys at 184/225)

Fear burns like acid in your gut and for a long moment you think of flight. Abraxas' servant taught you how when she broke the binding circle and the arts of the Githzerai might be enough to open the way. It is not courage that tips the scales to battle, nor the bright greed that is the heritage of dragons, for what is any treasure to the lives of your companions? No, you weigh one risk against the other and find that you would sooner take that of battle under your own eye than count upon the carelessness of the Ward Watchers.

Swift as thought comes the spell to ward your leal sworn sword, your oldest friend, to take his wounds and bear his burdens as he has so often done for you. Then of your rage, your fear you kindle all consuming fire, a spell that your first cast upon the demons of Mantarys in peril no less dreadful.

"Burn" ​

For the first time since you have come to this place you can feel the wards like an ocean of lead poured atop you that flows all the more heavy the greater you make the breach between the threads of power. Now at last you understand why they cannot be contested power against power, they use all in their domain as an anchor against you. To shatter them would be to attempt to change every iota of matter they encompass to something else. That not even a god can do outside of their own domain.

Yet those who wield it are still less than gods, still prone to error and mischance. For a moment the spell teeters on the razor's edge and then it tips... your way.

"Burn"​

As the fire kindles, as the things of magma burn you see the mage vanish in a flicker of familiar silver light, unscathed. Time snaps again as a string to a harpist's hand and the battlefield again changes. Another three of the beasts are once more ready to protect their master while of the four who guarded him only one managed to leap clear of your flames. The fourth wounded elemental pounces on the knight, hoping perhaps to pin him for the giant's hammer, but the knight is not daunted, dodging with contemptuous ease.

Alas that guard beasts are not all that your foe had called forth. Not two steps from where he stands a sphere of utter night had come to be, like a hole in the world, like an echo of the Void. Before the knight can move aside, before his shield can even interpose itself in feeble guard, the thing envelops him.

Against that he is not warded you know with cold certainty that draws a wordless denial from your lips.

Yet in that darkness beyond darkness Ser Richard Lonmouth stands unbowed as the words of withering ring out again and fingers of brass again close into a fist with one sharp click that steals the life from all of you, that should have been his doom but for final blessing to still the reaper's hand. The belt at his waist flashes gold and sparks of healing flicker behind his visor.

Garin takes 70 Damage; Viserys takes 52 Damage; Ser Richard takes 17 damage
Ser Richard Gains 52 Temp Hit Points
Ser Richard Heals 17 damage
You gain 35 Temporary HP
(Viserys at 132/225 and 35 Temporary HP
Garin at 75/222
Ser Richard at 14/211 and 52 Temp Hit Points)

Should you have run, is it too late? you wonder with gathering dread as Garin works his own spell. Bolt after bolt of living darkness sharper that steel cut through the air with a keening cry and this at last scores the armor to unveil grey flesh shedding flakes of ash.

From behind you beyond the broken door you hear the sound of heavy footfalls, giants, though ones of the fortress. Without needing to look you see them raise what to a human would be rune-encrusted cannons, but to these five are mere hand-launchers. Blasts of pure arcane force echo from the weapons... all aimed at your back, being the biggest and in their eyes the largest threat. You twist and turn as much as you can in the confines of the chamber, enough to twist three blows askew, though two find their mark, one striking your spine between your wings and the other the back of your head. Red tints the edges of your vision... but not enough, not near enough to make you miss the sight before you...

Viserys takes 68 Damage
(Viserys at 99/225)

Battered and scored by sorcery, with the breath of death at the back of his neck, Richard Lonmouth charges the enemy mage, all but ignoring his titanic guards... only three this time and not two, not quite enough to close the gap. The first blow strikes the enemy in the shoulder with enough force to shatter stone, the second one flashes across his neck.

Two things happen then, first the last remaining giant howls in pain as it takes on a full half of his master's wounds, bleeding from the shoulder and the throat both and the mage collapses in on himself like a puppet with its strings cut...

"Not so lightly do I perish!" The words echo in black flame that erupts all about Ser Richard and the savage stone beasts and the corpse's fall is stopped, as though the hand of the reaper itself dares not descent.

Ser Richard had turned upon his heel with the last sword swing, not even looking back. Knowing him it was not fear of the deathless thing that would not perish and more to protect you from the giants who are firing on you.

Time twists again

A great corona of lightning explodes around you and Ser Richard as though the very hammer of the Storm God had fallen here. Ser Richard, bold and stalwart past all point of reason, finally collapses, not from any failing of will, but simply of the flesh which can endure no more while you yourself are wounded near to death.

Viserys takes 90 Damage
Ser Richard takes 105 Damage
(Viserys at 9/225
Ser Richard at -40/211 Unconscious)

Yet near does not death make. Every breath is agony as you dive further into the chamber away from the giants. It does not take more than an instant to realize what the mage must have done, what trap he must have laid in the frozen moment and that he would not have done that if he had not meant to flee through the gate.

"Garin... he's fled... you have to... kill them all... so I can close the gate."

What do you do?

[] Write in

OOC: Keep in mind you have Varys here as well, the remaining rune giant is very wounded. Viserys just has to survive the round to close the gate. For anyone wondering the reason this took so long to write is that I thought Viserys had Saving Grace and he does not, he has a heal ring which does not work.

 

[DragonParadox]

By Bolts and Locks ​

Eleventh Day of the Ninth Month 294 AC

The wall of light flickers and sputters like a candle in the rain as you first evoke it, the ward watchers just barely managing to catch the spell-form dulled by pain and lingering fear, but as your form shifts and grows from human to wyrm, the sheer mass of flesh and scale already starting to heal helps to ground you. Before the giants can take their second volley your draw a thread of unnatural speed from your belt and the second spell holds true, all the more so with Varys triggering a charm to cast another like ward behind it.

Viserys Heals 98 Hit Points
(Viserys 109/355)

As to the wounded guard giant abandoned by his master he flees with surprising speed towards the gate, though nowhere near swift enough, managing only to ensure Garin is well clear of the blast from its death when seven knives of shadow pierce its back and skull, sending the conical helm flying in a shower of blood.

A part of your mind is already working out how long the wall should hold for. Between one and two minutes assuming they do not get anymore reinforcements... an eternity in battle, but not so long outside of it, assuming of course that second path from the commander's chambers does not exist or they cannot get to it in time.

Your eyes fall on Ser Richard, his armor dented and melted, what little of his face you can see so withered he seems more corpse than living man already.

"I will deal with it, see to the gate..." Varys hisses and you hear in her voice the same urgency and the same pain you feel at the sight, for she is kin to your soul and cares no less deeply.

Ser Richard Heals 8 Damage
(Ser Richard at -32/211 Unconscious)

As she begins her chanting over scrolls of petty healing magic that even an initiate of the Scholarum could master, but which by the same token are hardest for the ward-watchers to hear, you turn to face the blood red light of the gate and the figures already forming there, reaching with your will like a vice to unravel it.

Alas, the watchers had been ready for this, most likely they had trained to counter this above all other spells and so the curtain falls on your spell, the gate endures and four efreeti of the Eternal Guard pass into the chamber and charge Garin with weapons touched by flame and the name of their lord upon their lips. They do not charge heedless or without thought, but they surround him as hounds to a lion at bay.

Yet even these warriors, mighty as they are cruel, stand now against a foe who is beyond them. For of all their blows from every angle and every way only one connects through veils of shadow and tricks of misdirection.

Garin Takes 22 Damage
(Garin at 53/222)

Four he can stand against, but eight... twelve, no. Eventually he will be overwhelmed as surely as night turns to day. The whole host of the City of Brass is beyond that gate somewhere and it has only to deploy. You must close it.

Again you speak the words and set your skill and sorcery against the ward-keepers and this time you thread the needle true even as Garin manages to slay the foe who had wounded him, his blade drinking deep of the blood it had spilled.

Garin Heals 20 Damage
(Garin at 73/222)
Ser Richard Heals 17 Damage
(Ser Richard at -15/211 Unconscious)

There is still magic in the arch of the gate, still the potential for its opening, a power woven into the very core of the fortress which you cannot from here unravel, not at least in the time you have before the door behind you bursts and that is discounting the mages who are simply keyed in to translocate under their own power.

Claim as much of the treasure as you can then fly off, the voice of instinct deep in your blood whisperers. For all their power the thought is not the least strange to those of the Crimson Flight.

What do you do?

[] Write in

OOC: You have three Eternal Guard in the room with you and between 13-20 rounds before the barriers behind you cracks, assuming the giants do not get reinforced. On the plus side you have an artifact cloak that can ignore the wards against extra-dimensional spaces so all you need to do is tap one and you have it so that is another way you are uniquely suited to robbing the place and part of the reason the shaitan thought of giving you the chance.

 

[DragonParadox]

Tacking Stock ​

Eleventh Day of the Ninth Month 294 AC

Like unseen hail your magic crosses the chamber reducing the face of one of the efreeti to bloody ruin, all but snapping his neck back while another is pummeled by only a single dart to the chest and another brighter flash of power that pierces his shoulder. For the first death comes a moment later as Garin opens his cloak and a fan of steel flies from it, but the other two endure.

Seeing the gate behind them sealed and confronted with foes beyond them the remaining enemy fight with the fury of those already doomed. Heedless of their guard they manage a pair of blows grazing the already wounded Garin and throwing him off balance, such that he only able to deal one strike more in return, leaving both of them still standing by the time you gather your magic once more.

Garin Takes 30 Damage
(Garin at 43/222)
Garin Heals 10 Damage
(Garin at 53/222)

Were things less dire you might have thrown some silent quip, but in this hour you only have the time for the spell that ends both of the wounded Eternal Guard with shards of arcane ice even as from beneath your left wing Ser Richard finally stirs under Varys' ministration.

Ser Richard Heals 19 Damage
(Ser Richard at 4/211)

"Where is the son of a whore?" Though his voice still rasps as though unused for years and you hear his joints creak more than the armor over them the knight still clambers on to his feet as the glyphs on his armor begin to shine, the trickle of magic almost as much as Varys' petty spells had been managing.

"He is gone and..." The death rattle of the last gold-armored warrior interrupts you. "So are all his friends for now, but I do not know how much longer we can count on that staying like that."

Garin Heals 15 Damage
(Garin at 78/222)

"Then we had best get this heist rolling on before it turns into a brawl again," Garin interjects, looking towards the open vault doors and cocking his head. Unlike the gate you had broken to get in here both are ajar for convenience on the reasoning that any foe who manages to make it this far will not be deterred by a few inches of adamantine.

From both sides you can hear the sound of heavy footfalls, some that sound like the iron boots of the giants, possibly trying to evacuate stones, and others like the gear whirs of awakening constructs. You cannot count either easily by sound alone, but you suspect there can't be too many of them from the limitations of both space and function.

The question remains how many is too many given how battered the three of you are.

Rounds until the barriers give way, assuming no more reinforcements arrive from inside the fortress: 11 to 18 Rounds until teleporting reinforcements: At least three (Anticipate Teleport has not triggered)

What do you do?

[] Rush the Vault to have the longest time possible to claim stones

[] Heal First
-[] Write in how and for how long

[] Write in

OOC: I know this is really short, but given the state of everyone I do need a risk assessment from the thread and a vote. Also Garin somehow rolled two nat 1s back to back. It is a good thing you guys did not have that kind of luck against the lich.

 

[DragonParadox]

In Brazen Halls​

Eleventh Day of the Ninth Month 294 AC

It had not been the first time that Richard had gone down in a fight, not by far. His first real fight against bandits at Rahegar's stirrup had ended with him waking up three hours later with a splitting headache and blush and stutter that would not go away for what felt like a week. He had lost his saddle and half a day worth's of time in some nameless little skirmish in the Disputed Lands back when he was serving as a wall for some gutless magisters to hide behind. Even once he had come into the service of Prince Viserys Richard still vividly recalled how he had been pounded into the deck of a ship by the squids' servants before he knew what they really were.

But that had all been back when he thought the worst a battle could leave you was dead, before he had learned that souls could be trapped, twisted, tortured and woven like thread in some dark sorcery. If that had happened to the Imperator... to Viserys... Though the light of his armor shone out like a summer's sun in the chamber it warmed Richard' not at all.

"Count not the graves of living men, Ser Knight, and doubly so of dragons," the little wyrm on his shoulder hissed in his mind even as her voice continued to chant small spells of healing.

Ser Richard Heals 86 Damage
Garin Heals 8 damage
Ser Richard and Garin gain 24 Temp Hit Points
(Ser Richard at 90/211 and 24 Temp HP
Garin at 86/222 and 24 Temp HP)

After slathering a bit of the same healing cream Richard had been using on his face Garin plucked a hair from his head and tossed it on the ground with a garbled incantation, like echoes tripping over each other. A moment later a cloud of smoke had risen from it and from that smoke a second Garin... except for the eyes, those looked dead as doll's eyes.

"Stealing Lya's tricks now are you?" the Imperator rumbled as he tossed the thing one of the big ice bombs with a flourish of his cloak, though despite the jesting tone Richard could not help but note the flakes of blood that flew alongside it.

"You should have healed yourself more," Richard sent.

"No time for that," the faintly chinning timber of the thought was not unlike the one Richard had used. Sometimes he wondered if his lord recalled who was supposed to be the sworn sword and who was the one the sword guarded.

"I am more rightly called a sword than either of you," Oathkepeer interjected, an edge of dry wit to its words. "Look lively now, my eyes can only see so far..."

"There are eight minds in the left hand vault where we came from and only three in the right hand," Varys sent to all of them as she took off from the knight's shoulder and the rest of them started at a run, even the Imperator who was much too large to fly in the chamber.

As the doll reached the open door a flash of blue and a blast of cold air rocked them back on their heels, then Richard fired his launcher, adding the acrid smell of the mushroom bomb to the mix.

Claws clicked together and a flash of blinding light poured outwards from the Imperator's hands as if he held the sun for a moment.

Within they were greeted by the sight of a storeroom shelved in plain steel with numbers on each row and on those shelves crates and boxes like the ones the giants before had been bearing out. As to the giants in here, they were very much the worse for wear. One of them had his feet mortared to the floor in bloodied ice while the other three were desperately trying to scrub their noses of fungus reek and their eyes of the light. It was just a pity they weren't alone.

At the end of the far row two faceless brass men, twelve feet tall and almost half as broad, rose clicking and clanking from their stone seats hefting heavy spears.

Spoiler: Brass Golems

Richard had no doubt they could take the things apart and kill the giants, the question was how much time it would take them and how much longer they had before more of them would be smashing into the three of them from behind like a vice.

Rounds until the barriers give way, assuming no more reinforcements arrive from inside the fortress: 9 to 16
Rounds until teleporting reinforcements: Unknown

Spoiler: Positioning

Giants:
1: Blind Stunned, wounded by ice
2: Blind Trapped in ice; wounded by ice
3: Stunned
All within 30 ft of the door

Golems:
2 Intact
60 ft away

How do you deal with the Vault Guards?

[] Write in

OOC: This could have been a lot worse, but you guys rolled -1 on the 1d100-10 for Vault Danger on this vault. The other one came out higher. Initially I was going to roll for which you would pick, but then I realized Varys would be able to count giants fine with mind-sight.

 

[DragonParadox]

Dragon's Heist ​

Eleventh Day of the Ninth Month 294 AC

"No need to kill the constructs, just keep them out of our way..." you call out before the light of your spell had even fully faded. Darts of frost fly from your fingers, clogging up gears and mechanisms with yet more ice. Walls of light flicker into being around the constructs at your command and that of your familiar before they can move more than a score of feet off their stone seats. More of them flash at the exits. They will not hold long, but they don't have to.

"Kill the giants." Were this another place, another time, you might have offered quarter, but this is not some isolated ship in the far corners of the Sea of Flame where you can hope to clear the deck of foes.

The clock is ticking and you cannot even see its face.

Your cloak whips about with the sound of clinking coin, the hiss of arcane hunger. Behind you the blinded giants are shouting... screaming anger turned to fear turned quickly to flight and blundering into the steel shelves leaving you thankful to whatever azer smith had forged them too solid to be knocked over.

It takes perhaps a dozen seconds before the screaming stops, the last of the giants unconscious or dead on the basalt floor, you do not care which as long as they cannot get in the way.

"Toss them at me!" you call.

Fortunately both of your companions know the tongue of fire and the speed that had served them so well in battle now sees them move so fast they are all but blurring down the rows and isles.

Clunk... clunk... clunk... chests go into your cloak, already ordered in sets for easy transfer. If you are now being thankful for the efficiency of the Sultan's servants you suppose you might as well add whoever ordered this place to the list. Both of them are going about as fast as you can, even risking a spell for the task.

The three of you pass through the chamber like a storm of greedy glittering gold and for your part you actually do manage to push some of the shelves over in your haste. At last there comes a moment of reprieve when you look around for the next chest and realize there is none left in this row and this is the last one...

"I think that's...." The words are lost as the wall you are standing besides suddenly explodes outwards with enough force to send shards of half melted stone through your scales and scraping against bone. You catch the barest glimpse of flame crimson, orange and white hot such that you can feel it and then you turn. If you and your companions had been fresh, not battered and wounded, you might have thought to give battle, as is you have what you came from and now is the time to flee.

Viserys takes 43 Damage
(Viserys at 67/355)

Spoiler: Inferno Caller

As though to nail home the fact with a yard of iron the barriers at the doors burst and half a dozen giants burst in, a sorceress bearing axe and flame at their head, the names of her dead kin on their lips. Behind her the cannoneers take aim, but Varys is ready. She would have been of little use hurling boxes at you and so she had been watching the door, ready to reinforce it. Though it is too late for that now, it is not too late to cast an arc of arcane power in the way of the volley.

Spoiler: Iron Guard Magmablade

"Up!" you call as you spread your wings and lap towards the ceiling. Your friends are quick to understand your meaning, flying to meet you before you meet the Darkward corner of the room.

Though the Ward Keepers reach out to smother your spell they are not quite swift enough. You carve out your own way from the fortress as a hunter carving up game, though you would not want to try this trick without the wind under your wings utterly under your power or with riders less trusting of your skill. "My compliments to the Sultan for his stones!" you shout back at your foes.

There are few things swifter than a dragon on the wing, but the brust of searing flame behind you is giving it a damn good try, that is until you conjure your own corner of the ocean to quench it. By the time you see the flames again they are well behind you and a moment later you burst from your hole into another torchlit corridor.

The feeling of healing salve on your scales is a small balm, but a small balm is better than none.

Viserys heals 13 Damage
(Viserys at 80/355)

You make it to the next level with the enemy not far from your heels and all the fortress in an uproar... especially the soldiers who practically fall into your jaws.

What do you do?

[] Continue blasting your way upwards

[] Try to teleport out using psionics and an invocation of magic

[] Write in

OOC: For anyone wondering how the mage knew to explode the wall in such a way as to hurt Viserys, he has very good hearing and a dragon moving around in a small room is not exactly quiet.

 

[DragonParadox]

Of Winged Shadows ​

Eleventh Day of the Ninth Month 294 AC

Garin had never wanted to be a dragon rider, not even as a boy when he had first heard the tales nor when he had met one who counted them kin. A galley was best, a boat was good, a horse would do in a pinch, but no son of Braavos would want to fly through the air on the wings of a willful beast who would eat you as soon as look at you. It was a good thing then that he was on the back of not a beast, but a friend.

Blasts of icy wind formed from a mouth of crimson scale as wings opened wide to catch the arcane wind. Fire roared at their back and frost before them. Perhaps it was the might of their magic, perhaps it was the speed of their advance, perhaps it was just luck which even the gods could not discount in their battles, but none there were to stand against them. In the roaring of the flames Garin heard only spite and rage as he held on for dear life, up the lift shaft, under the withering hail of force bolts, unerring even in the smoke and dust of their advance...

Viserys, Ser Richard and Garin take 37 Damage

"Ready!" He could hear Richard behind him, hanging on to a back spike with one hand as he took out his launcher. "Aim!"

Aim? It was all Garin could do not to giggle, which hurt too bloody much to do. It was a damn wall, the last thing you needed to do was aim. Magic lashed out in a line of white light while Viserys shuddered under them, struggling against the wards. Correction, it was a hole.

"Shoot!"

The sound of the word was swallowed by the explosion of the bombs smashing against stone and for a moment all Garin could do was continue hanging on for dear life. He really was not supposed to ride dragons.

Then they bounced off the bloody stone.

"Fuck!" the fire was getting closer and from behind them the chanting of the one in its midst all the louder, echoes on the inside of his head.

And us using our best wizard as a battering ram, Garin wondered if he could run down the spine and fight on the tail. Then Viserys smashed into the stone again, some spell Garin could not make out in his roar. Finally the stone gave way, wings snapped open like sails on either side.

Just like a ship....

For the first time in years Garin Drekelis felt nauseous. It turned out that if you had enough falling rocks, no amount of skill could help you dodge them. There was probably a very profound saying in there somewhere and he would be sure to write it down as soon as the world stopped dancing before his eyes.

Garin and Ser Richard take 21 Damage

Lightning roared out of the batteries closest to the main bunker and thunder boomed fit to shatter stone, but for this they had been ready. They had known to expect lighting and for all the blasts were strong enough to hole a spelljamer or even put a hole in the side of one of the moonchasters it was merely lighting, not whatever primal force the dread wizard had used against them down in the depths and lightning could be warded against with spells woven in advance. The glare of the lightning bolts firing might have even been what prevented more distant batteries from getting a proper aim on their position.

Thank you Daenerys, Garin thought as they finally made it clear of the first ward line. And thank Moon, Tree and Sea we made it out of there alive.

(Viserys at 32/355
Ser Richard at 56/211
Garin at 52/222)

It was on that day under skies of smoke and flame that Garin Drekelis, High Inquisitor of the Imperium, made two vows. First that he would never ride a dragon again unless his life depended on it, and second that he would learn to look for traps better.

What next?

[] Military deployment calculations

[] Post-mission meeting with the rest of the Companions

[] Write in

OOC: The deployment calculations will be delayed if you choose those until I have access to the PM because the rolls actually came out quite well for you and I do not want to re-roll and get worse ones.

 

[DragonParadox]

Spoils of Blood and Trickery ​

Twelfth Day of the Ninth Month 294 AC

The stars are bright over Sorcerer's Deep and soft summer rain falls quietly beyond the palace windows. You doubt anyone had noticed the flashes of golden light that marked the three of you healing and you take special care to mop up all the blood. In part that is out of an abundance of caution over someone who means you ill, but mostly it is to keep it out of sight of those who mean you well. Lya and Dany would likely feel guilty over their limited role in the heist and as for your mother... well, better not to find out what she would say if you had to explain how close you had all come to death and by what fragile arcane threads your life had hung.

Now that you can spare a breath the shadow of more abstract flights than those of life and soul fell upon you. What might have become of your legacy if you had fallen there by the gate to the City of Brass where your soul could so easily be carried to the throne room of the Sultan... or to the Brassworks?

You trust Dany with all that you have wrought and more besides, but for the first time in a long time you wonder if it would be fair to expect her to bear that burden while so young? She is still younger than you had been than day at Dragonstone. With a shake of the head you banish the comparison, she would have been a true ruler, Imperatrix by law and blood, not just a boy wearing a borrowed crown fleeing into exile.

No sense gnawing at the other side of the coin, you are suddenly reminded of a saying Maelor often brings up, usually to justify some risky but successful ploy. You have the stones at last and now you can see what the fruits of your labors actually look like.

***​

"It feels almost stuffy in here, doesn't it? Like there is almost too much magic... I did not know that could even happen," Lya notes while looking at the stones you were carefully taking out one by one from their lead-lined boxes.

"Quite the prize, aren't they?" you say with what you would count pardonable pride. Somehow you had expected something with the mark of the City of Brass, things of basalt and blazing metal, at worst even bearing the hallmarks of the Shapers particular arts, but no. Ward-crafting is an old art which has been refined and polished far beyond any idiosyncrasies of form.

Dispersal Wardstones have the many-hued sheen of prismatic light spilled over pristine black marble. Uncertainty Wardstones by contrast do not seem to have a color, you would call it solid fog save that fog is translucent, this is clearly both solid and utterly colorless in ways that make the eyes itch. Perhaps the most mundane looking are the linchpins of Phase Wards which look like nothing so much as great spikes of cold iron with a flattened top bearing sharp angular symbols in the tongue of Earth. Finally there are the Boundary Wards, both the most far ranging and the most subtle... well, subtle in function at least. The Ward Stones themselves are gold and true silver worked in fractal patterns that pull the unwary eye inwards into their depths. To simply have one of each for the Imperium so that you might in the fullness of time make more of them would be a great boon. You have done a good bit better than one of each.

"Blood well spilled that," you say in satisfaction as you take the last one out.

"We are going to have to ward the palace, of course," Lya notes. "But what else? Military bases? Cities? Which ones? This is almost ninety stones, but they are really meant to work in sets or three and four if you include the Boundary Wards, and we are going to have to deploy mages to use them, that is a lot of responsibility... "

Spoiler: Ward Stones Gained

• 5x Dispersal Ward Stone - 10km reach
• 11x Dispersal Ward Stone - 5km reach
• 8x Dispersal Ward Stone - 2km reach
• 5x Uncertainty Ward Stone - 10km reach
• 11x Uncertainty Ward Stone - 5km reach
• 8x Uncertainty Ward Stone - 2km reach
• 5x Phase Ward Stone - 10km reach
• 11x Phase Ward Stone - 5km reach
• 8x Phase Ward Stone - 2km reach
• 3x Boundary Ward Stone - 100km reach
• 9x Boundary Ward Stone - 50km reach
• 5x Boundary Ward Stone - 20km reach

Where do you deploy the stones?

[] Write in

OOC: Surprise update. I was not sure if I would be able to get this out in time so I did not want to get anyone's hopes up.

 

[DragonParadox]

Twice Kindled Lights ​

Twelfth Day of the Ninth Month 294 AC

A boy with wings of shadow landed on a balcony outside a third story florist's window. This being Sorcerer's Deep the man inside did not run, nor did he reach for a weapon, he just motioned to the unexpected but not unwelcome visitor.

"No thanks," Maelor signed through the glass. "Just here for the view." The fellow was a retired Inquisition agent, well... mostly retired, in either case the sort you could count on to know to talk with his hands.

It was a really nice view from up here, from the great dome of the Temple of Unity to the ever taller towers of City Hall where the lights burned almost as bright and almost as constant as the palace. They had actually lit up the Baths with a sort of sea green color that reminded him of a brine dragon's scales, not that he was in any hurry to point out the similarity. For all Maelor liked a sharp jest he knew when to keep it sheathed and most dragons of his acquaintance had skin as thin paper when it came to words as their scales were thick against swords, well all dragons save one and he had almost not made it back home today.

If he was being honest Maelor did not know what to make of the fact that Viserys, Richard and Garin had almost landed in the Brass Bastard's pot trying to steal some magic stones while he had barely done anything. It had been Lya who had spelled the wizard to blow up the supply cupboard and it had been Dany who had plotted out their escape. He had been around for 'local knowledge', which meant he could mostly recognize the enemy by their uniform and tell a free officer from a slave soldier. It was not that he wanted to be in deadly peril...

Yeah you do, a small sly voice that sounded more than a bit like Glyra noted at the back of his mind.

Well alright, he did miss it, the flash of danger, the need to think fast and lie smooth, but that was not all that had driven him onto this perch like a roosting heron. Being the reserve's reserve on heists like this left him feeling itchy-palmed and restless, but he was more than aware he wasn't quite skilled enough a spell-weaver to be on the first line in that heist.

I guess I could go barrow diving, sweep up some more corpses before winter comes. The thought was about as enticing as taking up a position shoveling the shit out of King's Landing. Someone had to do it of course, but it sure as hell did not have to be Maelor of Mantarys.

Maybe I'll head for the Sea of Fire, the boy thought. He did still want a city of his own to administer and he had liked the Brass City, well he had liked parts of it, not the slavery or the man-eating giants paroling the streets, or the people getting lashed to corpses and the threat of having his soul melted down for pennies, not the bits where the Sultan was in charge basically. But now that they had those wards they could make a go at taking and keeping some part of the Realm of Fire. Hells, maybe be could take one of those Salamander Princedoms and get them into some semblance of order.

"I'm starting to sound like Viserys, aren't I?" he murmured to himself. Looking out over the lights and life of Sorcerer's Deep, a city unlike any other in the world, he knew that was a pretty damn good thing to sound like.

OOC: Maelor is feeling a bit at odds ends now that things have settled down and he has had a few months to unwind. Far from urgent of course, but something you guys might want to keep in mind going forward.

 

[DragonParadox]

A Purloined Shield​

Twelfth Day of the Ninth Month 294 AC

Things move swiftly indeed that night, as only necessity may bring about when she harnesses to her chariot the steeds of sorcery. Marshals are summoned to a lantern-lit meeting and the spoils of your heist unveiled. Of all of them, you suspect the Air Marshal best understands the risk you must have taken to claim so many from the vaults of the Brazen Throne, but all of them understand the implications of greater magics and how they might be found out or foiled, the dangers of being perfectly divined. No one who had even made a passing study of your campaign against Tyrosh needs to be told of the implications of translocation for warfare and your Marshals are each in their own way far more learned than that.

Gerold is mainly concerned with getting Westhaven, Gogossos, Lys, Everfire Dale, and Sorcerer's Deep covered as they are the beating steel hearts of the Imperium's military. "As long as we hold all five of those, at least we have not lost and victory can still be had over any foe beyond them. Everfire Dale can do with the smallest wards while putting the largest ones into the Imperial Palace would cover all of the capital and the Dawn Tree."

By contrast, Marshal Netzachel is most invested in your original suggestion that you ward as many of your population centers as possible, though there is one other thing he would see guarded before even that, the Wall. "Should it fall, the armies which cast down Heaven will then march out and there might come the undoing of all that is." These grim words he speak as old and painful memories cloud for a moment the light of his eyes and none can deny the wisdom of them. Though it had been suggested to use some of the lesser wards for the Wall, in the end the risk of some daemon's plot or other peril yet unknown slipping through was deemed too great.

A sigh escapes the lips of the otherwise reserved Vaerios Ghad as he tries another tack for keeping more of the wards for military deployment. "With respect, Majesty, every city under an Uncertainty Ward is one the House of Mirrors cannot see within. We shall be as blind as..."

"As before the advent of the House of Mirrors and the enemies of the Imperium likewise," Garin interjects. "The Inquisition will manage as we did before the use of large scale divination was formalized."

"And that raises another advantage of the mobile platform," Hazhak mo Zhoa notes forcefully as few would dare before the Grand Inquisitor, but you did not choose your Marshals to be timid. "We would not constantly blind the eyes of Imperial investigators to the goings on in the largest cities of the realm." A smile flashes bright against coppery skin as he looks towards the archon for confirmation. "It is easier to keep the peace in air force grav-jammers, I would say. Do you not agree, Air Marshall Tirael?"

"Yes, though there are caveats. Redeployment would count upon the availability of sufficient mages capable of greater translocation magics..." Seeing that Hazhak was about to interrupt, he adds, "And it will also require a refit of all capital vessels to properly protect those wardstones. While we might optimistically be said to have enough archmages, or make due by other means, a lack of proper sanctums is not something we can afford lest we wish to see these stones twice taken."

"So a mobile deployment will have to wait at least a little while regardless," you nod. "I do not see keeping wardstones in storage as something we can afford when we have so many vulnerabilities, so guarding the cities it shall be, unless... Marshal Benedict, your thoughts?"

The former maester hums thoughtfully under his breath, the sound likely too low for anyone but you to hear. "Many are yet unripe, Your Majesty, but I shall say this much. It would be unwise to leave many of the major keeps of Westeros without a strong garrison. The lords know little of Wardstones, but they do know what to do if their overlord seems to be in the possession of more keeps then he is minded to hold in strength."

"Request them for themselves," you finish, not something you had considered, but of course politics does not stop its drum just because the trumpet of military expediency blows. "Is there any other place you would count important to hold onto in Westeros?"

"In spite of my esteemed colleagues attempts to loot it, the Citadel still holds much that is of worth, not least from the threat from the sea."

"I shall bear that in mind..." In the end it is only Skagos that truly looses a military base, and cantankerous as the inhabitants might be, they are neither numerous nor influential in the Curia. You will have to speak with Duke Bolton anyway, to make it clear that no slight is meant to the Eithur Fulka.

Spoiler: Ward Allocations

• Sets by Coverage:
  • Large (x5): 10 kilometer radius (Dispersal, Uncertainty & Phase Wards)
    • Sorcerer's Deep (+50 kilometer Boundary Ward)
    • Volantis (+50 kilometer Boundary Ward)
    • Braavos (+50 kilometer Boundary Ward)
    • King's Landing (+50 kilometer Boundary Ward)
    • Qarth (+20 kilometer Boundary Ward)
  • Medium (x11): 5 kilometer radius (Dispersal, Uncertainty & Phase Wards)
    • Gogossos (+50 kilometer Boundary Ward)
    • Mantarys (+50 kilometer Boundary Ward)
    • Lys (+50 kilometer Boundary Ward)
    • Tyrosh
    • Myr
    • Greyport (+50 kilometer Boundary Ward)
    • Oldtown (+50 kilometer Boundary Ward)
    • Westhaven - Military Base/Legion Use (+20 kilometer Boundary Ward)
    • Harrenhal - Military Base/Legion Use (+20 kilometer Boundary Ward)
    • Castle Black - Military Base/Legion Use (+100 kilometer Boundary Ward)
  • Small (x8): 2 kilometer radius (Dispersal, Uncertainty & Phase Wards)
    • Set Used For Study/Training of Enchanters (+20 kilometer Boundary Ward), earmarked for Morosh - Military Base/Legion Use afterward
    • Everfire Dale
    • The Eyrie Military Base/Legion Use (+20 kilometer Boundary Ward)
    • The Wall - Military Base/Legion Use (+100 kilometer Boundary Ward)
    • The Wall - Military Base/Legion Use (+100 kilometer Boundary Ward)
    • The Arbor - Military Base/Legion Use
    • Bear Isle - Military Base/Legion Use
    • Morrogos - Military Base/Legion Use

What next?

[] Write in

OOC: The plan name was so good I just nabbed it for the update.

 

[DragonParadox]

By Small Steps ​

Twelfth Day of the Ninth Month 294 AC

The first thing Richard noticed on stepping through the heavy lead-lined door was the smell. It was neither foul nor fair but something of both sweet and sour, bitter as brine and fresh as spring air. He could not even see magic properly in here from all the vials on the walls and the strange tubes bubbling away, spirals of hardened glass and silver coiling around the chamber like many-colored serpents, the color of auras dancing before his eyes. Now were was Trainer in all this?

"Ser Knight.. er, what can I do for you?" the sandy-haired boy asked as she stepped out from some nook in the back of the laboratory. Granted he was not that much younger than Richard, but the catch in his voice marked him as such regardless.

"I have a question about your craft and I was wondering if you could help me with it," he replied, sliding a box of healing salve across the table between them. The thing was so smooth it almost flew off, but to his credit Trainer caught it deftly.

"I will do my best, but I must confess I cannot think of any matter of the arcane in which I would know more about than Her Majesty the Imperatrix..."

"Her Majesty is currently trying to make sense of the Wall up North, and she was never much of one for potions and philters anyway."

The boy nodded cautiously and looked over the box in his hand. "This is fine work, Royce Alechemical works made of course. They do excellent distilling and produce in far larger batches than could otherwise be managed."

"Can you make it better though, if it was just you working on it and time was no matter, nor coin either?"

"Er... perhaps." It was clear he was unsure what Richard was getting at but did not quite know how to ask what he was about.

"I know there are potions that can do better, but you have to uncork a vial and drink it when you might have better things to be doing with your mouth in the middle of a fight. I want something like that, that can be applied by someone else right on the wound, just stronger." Something that would have woken you up faster so he wouldn't have been dead weight when your liege was fighting for his life. The knight swallowed the bitterness, it would do no good now. Next time he would do better, he vowed.

For a long moment the young mage was silent. "Is aura strength a concern?" he asked at last.

Clever lad, Richard thought, offering a small approving nod. He had not gotten it right of course, but he was using his head and that was always good to see. "No, this is for use in areas where higher spells can't be counted."

"I shall see what I can do, Ser Knight," Trainer said at last. "I make no promises save of diligence."

"And I do not expect more than that, nor does the Imperator," Richard said in parting, leaving the alchemist to his work.

OOC: I know you guys were expecting a Mereth interaction, but Richard is really not the sort to go bear his feeling every time something bad happens, he is more inclined to do all he can to make sure the bad thing does not happen again. Better healing salve is the sort of thing that is too simple for new form research actions so I thought why not show a companion doing something on their own initiative on this.