>>6371885>2) Rituals and chill As you’re working through the last of your hesitation, Tyrion walks over to the rat’s corpse, then looks back to you. “With mag- not magic, you say, but *abilities* like yours, my ladies, I can’t imagine what about a rodent of unusual size has you so concerned.”
“Have you ever seen a beast appear out of thin air, my lord?”
“Literally? I can’t say that I have. I imagine that would be quite the sight.”
“Eva, would you care to demonstrate?”
“Oh, sure thing.” With a lazy wave of her hand, she casts a Summon Nature’s Ally spell, bringing forth a living example of a dire rat. Summoning, like so much else in spellcraft, comes with a minimum of drama: the rat simply pours into place like snow un-melting, over and complete in a scarce second. A dire rat is fiercer and crueller to the eye than its lesser cousins, teeth more like a dog’s, its black eyes searching, standing on legs too long for a normal rat. A row of short discoloured bony spines protrude from the base of its neck.
“Fuck-!” Tyrion flinches as it is conjured before him, but recovers quickly. “That’s what happened with the dead one, then?”
“You should hope that it didn’t. Monsters spawn where they will on every other plane of existence I can name - yes, we are from another world, no I’ll not explain again now, please set it aside for the moment. Yet, for reasons I cannot discern, spontaneous generation is rarer on this plane than any I have ever visited. I fear where there is one, there will be more. The problem is, monsters breed true once spawned, so I cannot draw any easy conclusions… This is going to take a while. Eva, would you be upset about missing the main course?”
“I almost asked if I could get out of it somehow, so no, not at all.”
You’re about to send Tyrion off to the feast, but a different idea occurs to you before you do. “Lord Tyrion, you said you've read every book about dragons in the realm, yes?”
“I've still yet to find any of Septon Barth's works, but yes. It's a passion of mine. And just about everything else I can get my hands on. The mind needs books like a sword needs a whetstone, I've always said.”
“… Just so,” you say, looking down at the small man. He's not a maester, but few men are, and you haven't had much time to speak with Maester Luwin over the last few weeks. “Come with us, then. I would not mind your insights. Now. Let's go while the signal is strong.”
You stuff the rat's remains in a sack via Mage Hand and then into your back of holding, and depart the Godswood on long swift legs, with Eva half-running behind you and Tyrion struggling to keep pace.
