Fear Cuts Deeper Than Swords v2: A Song Of Ice and Fire/Pathinder 1st Edition Crossover
- Thread starter Miriam
- Start date
- Location
- E-Girl Deseret
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Specifically we are 17 (born 275, unsure of what exact date in the year), as I figured that would be a fairly reasonable age for a first level character. We're skilled for our age and relative experience, but not a legend.
I'm toying with giving a background bonus to Domeric's Riding and Perform skills for the sake of making his background at least be consistent in the first level or so.
We were born about 9 years after Lyanna Stark. We were in fact serving as a page to Lady Dustin at the time of Lyanna's death, and likely witnessed Eddard Stark come back to Barrowton to tell Lady Dustin that her husband's bones would not be returning back to the North after the fight at the Tower of Joy to save Lyanna.
Suffice it to say, Lady Dustin took this.... poorly. Later on in canon, she openly tells Theon Greyjoy that she would stop Eddard's bones from coming to the Winterfell crypts out of vengeance for Lord Dustin's bones never getting to rest in Barrowton. So you can imagine how bitter she is when it's much more fresh in the mind.
- Location
- E-Girl Deseret
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I'm definitely willing to give Domeric a custom martial proficiency with lances and longswords; as a sorcerer he's supposed to only be proficient with simple melee weapons (like a dagger) but I'm always happy to bend D&D a little bit so it makes sense within the ASOIAF universe.
[X] Trip the pig, the blacksmith might want it alive
Great to see this back.
Great to see this back.
[X] Trip the pig, the blacksmith might want it alive
I want to say use the Claws, but clearly killing a random pig you don't own in the middle of the street is a bad idea.
I want to say use the Claws, but clearly killing a random pig you don't own in the middle of the street is a bad idea.
- Location
- United States
[X] Trip the pig, the blacksmith might want it alive
- Location
- Texas
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Trip the pig, the blacksmith might want it alive
always_confused
Perpetually unwanted
- Location
- SEA
[X] Trip the pig, the blacksmith might want it alive
always_confused
Perpetually unwanted
- Location
- SEA
First these teenagers are tipping pigs, next thing you know its cows!
- Location
- E-Girl Deseret
- Pronouns
- She/Her
It'll be a mix of 3.5 and Pathfinder 1st edition; for most part Pathfinder rules and creatures but I didn't want to say, lock myself out of using mind flayers (which are copyrighted by D&D and so are not in Pathfinder). Pathfinder itself isn't too different from D&D hence why A Sword without a Hilt also uses many Pathfinder rules but feels mostly D&D.
Chapter II: First Meetings
- Location
- E-Girl Deseret
- Pronouns
- She/Her
First Day of the Ninth Month, Year 292 after Aegon's Conquest
You extend your boot-clad foot forward, catching the pig and stopping the momentum of its hooves. The pig squeals, tripping over your foot, its hooves skidding upon the streets of Qohor.
You hear a few short breathes, feminine in tone, mixed with rather more earthy exclamations of profanity in a rather melodious and slightly lisping, if out of breath accent of Low Valyrian. Steelshanks had spent a few coins paying a merchant to teach you the rudimentaries of the language, close and yet so far from the formal High Valyrian you were used to. Still, you could understand the particulars of the woman's curses upon the pig, the pig's mother and father, and all its ancestors unto the third generation.
Gained Simple Proficiency in Low Valyrian language.
The woman herself comes into view, dashing up and grasping the pig rather firmly, you suspect to avoid a repeat of its previous escape. The… lady blacksmith, you suppose, sighs in satisfaction, then turns to you, eyeing your look for a moment. Her expression turns to a careful shrug, being focused on not jostling the pig.
"Thank you for the assistance in this matter. This little one was supposed to be a sacrifice, but it seems to have taken a liking to ruining it. No matter, I'm sure it can serve as dinner instead."
She gives a curt smile to you, only having a slight start when meeting your Bolton eyes. Good woman, far too many Valemen in your years as squire had flinched at meeting that pale gaze. The talk of sacrifice only… marginally soured it.
"I'm Sahbra Mott, Blacksmith of the Street of Strangers. I serve foreigners and visitors to Qohor."
The smirk that jumps to your lips is almost involuntary.
"It must be well that it isn't the Street of the The Stranger, else I might be worried about dying by your work."
Sahbra Mott rolls her eyes.
"You must be Westerosi, they all make that jest."
Unsure of the etiquette of meeting a female blacksmith you merely incline your head in greeting, remembering to introduce yourself.
"Domeric. Just… Domeric for now." You are unsure of how long your father's threadbare explanation of sending you on a tour of Essos will linger, and you do not want to cause him shame by trumpeting the name of your House while the sin of kinslaying remains upon you.
Sahbra nods back, then looks you over once more, seeing your rather… meager possessions. You fight the urge to blush, though her gaze does not seem to promise romance in the least.
"Catching that pig was helpful, Domeric. Do you have an inn to stay at? If not, there's a bedroll at my forge. Used it myself when I was an apprentice, don't need it now that I own the place."
How odd Qohorik is that a strange blacksmith woman can invite a foreign man to her dwelling. Perhaps it is your formative years in the Vale but as the objection rises to your lips, Sahbra shakes her head.
"Your virtue will be safe under my roof, Westerosi. I much prefer damsels in my bed, and currently, I've none of those besides. Still, if it discomforts you, there's an inn, the Crooked Ser its called, ah, on account of some Westerosi sellswords betraying the city back when the Dothraki invaded, back a few centuries ago. It's well-regarded among foreigners, so seems most have no hard feelings. So, what'll it be, Just Domeric?"
[] Take Sahbra's offer, and head to her smithy.
[] Head to the Crooked Ser (Sahbra estimates it to cost 2 Silver Hoofs a night)
OOC: You would not believe the week and a half I've had. Very, very difficult and with very little motivation to write. I wanted to get at least this done though.
Incidentally, I have two different ideas, one for both of these choices, I don't want to railroad you into either, got exciting plans.
You extend your boot-clad foot forward, catching the pig and stopping the momentum of its hooves. The pig squeals, tripping over your foot, its hooves skidding upon the streets of Qohor.
You hear a few short breathes, feminine in tone, mixed with rather more earthy exclamations of profanity in a rather melodious and slightly lisping, if out of breath accent of Low Valyrian. Steelshanks had spent a few coins paying a merchant to teach you the rudimentaries of the language, close and yet so far from the formal High Valyrian you were used to. Still, you could understand the particulars of the woman's curses upon the pig, the pig's mother and father, and all its ancestors unto the third generation.
Gained Simple Proficiency in Low Valyrian language.
The woman herself comes into view, dashing up and grasping the pig rather firmly, you suspect to avoid a repeat of its previous escape. The… lady blacksmith, you suppose, sighs in satisfaction, then turns to you, eyeing your look for a moment. Her expression turns to a careful shrug, being focused on not jostling the pig.
"Thank you for the assistance in this matter. This little one was supposed to be a sacrifice, but it seems to have taken a liking to ruining it. No matter, I'm sure it can serve as dinner instead."
She gives a curt smile to you, only having a slight start when meeting your Bolton eyes. Good woman, far too many Valemen in your years as squire had flinched at meeting that pale gaze. The talk of sacrifice only… marginally soured it.
"I'm Sahbra Mott, Blacksmith of the Street of Strangers. I serve foreigners and visitors to Qohor."
The smirk that jumps to your lips is almost involuntary.
"It must be well that it isn't the Street of the The Stranger, else I might be worried about dying by your work."
Sahbra Mott rolls her eyes.
"You must be Westerosi, they all make that jest."
Unsure of the etiquette of meeting a female blacksmith you merely incline your head in greeting, remembering to introduce yourself.
"Domeric. Just… Domeric for now." You are unsure of how long your father's threadbare explanation of sending you on a tour of Essos will linger, and you do not want to cause him shame by trumpeting the name of your House while the sin of kinslaying remains upon you.
Sahbra nods back, then looks you over once more, seeing your rather… meager possessions. You fight the urge to blush, though her gaze does not seem to promise romance in the least.
"Catching that pig was helpful, Domeric. Do you have an inn to stay at? If not, there's a bedroll at my forge. Used it myself when I was an apprentice, don't need it now that I own the place."
How odd Qohorik is that a strange blacksmith woman can invite a foreign man to her dwelling. Perhaps it is your formative years in the Vale but as the objection rises to your lips, Sahbra shakes her head.
"Your virtue will be safe under my roof, Westerosi. I much prefer damsels in my bed, and currently, I've none of those besides. Still, if it discomforts you, there's an inn, the Crooked Ser its called, ah, on account of some Westerosi sellswords betraying the city back when the Dothraki invaded, back a few centuries ago. It's well-regarded among foreigners, so seems most have no hard feelings. So, what'll it be, Just Domeric?"
[] Take Sahbra's offer, and head to her smithy.
[] Head to the Crooked Ser (Sahbra estimates it to cost 2 Silver Hoofs a night)
OOC: You would not believe the week and a half I've had. Very, very difficult and with very little motivation to write. I wanted to get at least this done though.
Incidentally, I have two different ideas, one for both of these choices, I don't want to railroad you into either, got exciting plans.
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- Location
- Texas
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Take Sahbra's offer, and head to her smithy
- Location
- E-Girl Deseret
- Pronouns
- She/Her
No idea how it didn't get threadmarked the first time, thank you for the reminder!
- Location
- E-Girl Deseret
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Okay, next time (or at least soon) I will try and have a decision where two or even three choices seem equally enticing, because these things keep getting lopsided. 😅