Release The Kraken! {AGoT}
- Thread starter JimThePocket
- Start date
-
We have updated our Community Code of Conduct. Please read through the new rules for the forum that are an integral part of Paradox Interactive’s User Agreement.
Gah, I was just about to update, but I forgot to upload any pics from my gaming comp. Tomorrow, for sure.
So what did we all think of the first episode of Season 3?
So what did we all think of the first episode of Season 3?
Missed out on a lot of the character in terms of a return (Arya, Bran, Theon, Jaime/Brienne) and butchered some of the character motivations/development (Jon), and excised some book characters to make space. But it was still pretty good as an opener, with the best stuff being the scenes dealing with Jon Snow, the Tywin scenes in King's Landing and those revolving around Davos Seaworth, whose actor I could probably watch for hours on end be the only sane man in Stannis's court because shenanigans.
Also: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wdA6lQ6ymhU
It was great except for the introduction of Barristan Selmy, I though that was way to early in the series.
You do have to remember that you can introduce a character in a more mysterious way in a book. Selmy was present in the first season, so short of hiding his face all the time there was nothing they could do to introduce him like they did in the books.
I do agree it was a missed opportinity.
With regards to Jon, they didn't really change his motivation, just the reason he gives to Mance Rayder. Not sure why they didn't just decide to have Mance reveal he was at the feast in Winterfell like in the book and thus have him give the reason he gives in the book though.
As for Theon, most of his story was told in last season and since they didn't have Ramsay Snow appear in the season, they may just live it ambigious what happens to him till he shows up again in a future season. It's possible will only see him once when they show us he is with Ramsay Snow, but I wouldn't count on much more.
Bran doesn't do much in the book and the biggest thing I remember with him is him saving Jon and then crossing the wall, I do not remember anything else about what he did in the book other then explore his skinwalker abilities and get more used to them.
Not really sure why the left Arya out of this episode. I can say the same with Jaime/Brienne, Though most of their story really takes place after Harrenhal is taken by the Starks and they probably just decided to start with them after that happens.
It would have been very difficult for them to have him pretend to be someone else. Too many people would have recognized the voice and the actor and made the connection to who he actually was. They seem to have just decided that since they couldn't go with the big reveal and plot twist, they just decided to say who he was.
They could have played with the deception for a while, leaving the audience wondering what exactly Grandpa Badass was up to.
From some glimpses in the preview, I fear we're going to see all too much of what's going on with Theon right now, especially as I believe they cast a Ramsay. Though in general they are playing things quite close to the vest with regards to him and his father.
Chapter XXVI
I have always considered myself a good man, and I like to think my smallfolk are of like sentiment after thirteen years of peace and prosperity. But even the best of men is just a man, so to speak, and weakness lurks in the heart of us all. My weakness, my sin, my muse, had become Grisella.
Many men in my situation would seek to assuage guilt by blaming wine, the bane of Kings and thralls alike, but I had no such excuse. I was sober the night I first took Grisella to bed, and all the nights thereafter. Have I truly sinned though? I am Ironborn. The Drowned God bids us take what we desire, and I had never desired anything more.
The thought is cold comfort.
I did not have long to dwell on my guilt, or lack thereof. Ravens came down to us from The Wall, bearing tidings of a Wilding Invasion led by some brute who styled himself 'Kyleg the Great'. Though loathe to be torn from my lover's embrace I knew the dangers Wildings presented. mine own uncle had fallen to wounds received when he slew the last savage King on field of battle.
There was also the matter of my son to consider. I did not think he knew of mine and Grisella's indiscretions, but he had a mind like a razor, and it was perhaps best to keep him distracted. What better, then, than his first war? By all accounts of his youthful adventures Bennarion always loved killing more than loveplay anyway.
We flew north with Drogon and joined the forces Lord Stark had raised to meet the invasion, some eight thousands or so. A paltry force, but sufficient to smash the invaders if we could bring them to battle. I took overall comand, whilst entrusting my right flank to Bennarion and my left to Lucas Cobb, a trusty Ironborn warrior.
We marched north, passing through Castle Black with the blessings of the Night's Watch and crossing into the wild lands Beyond the Wall. I had seen the wall before, for it is visible from great distance when a-wing on dragonback, but to actually fly over the ancient structure was a truly moving experience. Indeed, I may well have been the first true King to visit this desolate place in centuries. I asked Bennarion, who had led the men through the passage under the wall, if he felt similarly moved, but he simply shrugged his shoulders in teenage disdain.
After pausing to compose a poem dedicated to The Wall I led our men further into the wilderness, which was to prove harrying experience in itself. Kyleg ran from our superior forces, and as he knew the ground far better than we was able to evade us seemingly at will..
Our men started to die after the first week. Some froze in their tents, others fell prey to the hazardous terrain, whilst some simply died without cause or reason, and others just vanished into the snow. The men began to whisper of dark things skulking at the edges of our camp, preying on those fool enough to stray to far from the camp. They even told each other that our missing soldiers would sometimes return to camp days later, as walking corpses that killed their former friends until they were hacked apart and burned.
I treated such rumours with the disdain they deserved. Where were these wights and their illusory masters? All I ever saw were pieces of dead men my superstitious soldiers told me had been walking corpses they'd dispatched. It was preposterous, one might as well pretend we were being assaulted by grumpkins! Worse still, the Night's Watchmen that accompanied us seemed determined to spread such wild tales. The First Ranger even came up with excuses for me not seeing any of the creatures. "They fear t' Dragon, Yer Grace," the rascal said, face as straight as stone, "and it's always by yer side. If'n it weren't here...we'd most like all by corpses, shambling in the snow."
I rolled my eyes at his nonsense. Whatever the reason, we had lost close to three thousand men chasing Kyleg through the wilds, and so it was with glad heart I greeted tidings that we had cornered the bandit in his hall.
We descended on Kyleg's refuge with our remaining strength, some twenty times the force that he had gathered about him, and took his hall by storm. Our men were weakened by the travails of the campaign, but I suspect they were glad to be given the chance to fight. Bennarion, certainly, looked happy as I've ever seen him as he lead the charge, hacking open the gates with a battleaxe and reaping grisly harvest of wilding dead.
The battle was over quickly, and Kyleg dragged before me in chains. He looked up at me, distaste writ clear on his face, then marvelled as I ordered his bonds struck from him. This was how true Kings treated their prisoners, I told him, expounding about the virtues of noble rule in some detail.He was free to go as a part of the truce I wished to forge between us, and I bade him joy of the lands North of the Wall.
I'm quite sure I got through to him, odd chap that he was.
Bennarion and I returned south, but it seemed events had progressed somewhat in our absence. Grisella had begun to swell with child not long after we left for The Wall, and had given birth to twins, a son and daughter of distinctly Greyjoy countenance.
Naturally, my first thought was that this was no concern. Her husband was my own son, after all, and could well be the source of the children's features. But I had reckoned without Bennarions oddness. He rarely lay with his wife, he said, for he was often at sea and was of uncertain mood even when he was at Pyke. The age of the babes did not match the last time he and Grisella had been together, and he looked at me with eyes filled with a suspicion fast turning to certainty. A certainty that hid molten rage and promised bloody vengeance.
I sent them away, Bennarion and Grisella both. What else could I do? Bennarion left Pyke for his Lordship of Gravesham, under Falyses's watchful eye, and I tried to forget the rift I had caused in our family. My wife I could not so dismiss, and her cold fury was difficult to endure, but a man does what he must.
A year passed in relative quiet, and like a fool I began to hope that Bennarion might someday forgive me my crimes against him, but it was not to be. My Master of Whispers, Lady Asha, came to me one morning with words that chilled my heart, then wrenched it free of my breast. I should have known, I should have seen. My son was never a forgiving man. He was a Greyjoy.
I had Bennarion imprisoned. It was that or sit and wait to die, but my plan was not without purpose. I would call my son to trial by court, demonstrate his guilt, yet portray it as a youthful indiscretion, and pardon him of his crimes. Surely, I thought, my magnanimity would not go noticed? Bennarion would recognise I had forgiven him and so, in turn, forgive me, and all would be as it was between us.
The guards brought Bennarion up from the cells, to stand before the court. The maester asked him how he would plead, and received steely gaze in response.
"I am Bennarion of House Greyjoy, and I do not plead." My son said. "I choose the sword."
That was scant hours ago now. The trial by combat is to be held at Naga's Bones on the morrow, and I shall be the one who faces my son's blade.
It has to be me. My captains love my Bennarion, for in him they see the Kings of Old, but I know they would face him if I asked it, and some few of them may have skill enough to slay him. But why would I want that? Bennarion is my son, my poor, mad, little boy, and I would not have him die whilst I drew breath. My foolishness and presumption brought us here, and I must bear responsibility for it. I can not ask another to die in my place, not in this. I will face Bennarion tomorrow and die upon his sword. When, years from now, we meet in the Drowned God's Halls I will be the first of his ancestors to embrace him, and offer him my forgiveness.
Perhaps by then I will have earned his.
I have always considered myself a good man, and I like to think my smallfolk are of like sentiment after thirteen years of peace and prosperity. But even the best of men is just a man, so to speak, and weakness lurks in the heart of us all. My weakness, my sin, my muse, had become Grisella.
Many men in my situation would seek to assuage guilt by blaming wine, the bane of Kings and thralls alike, but I had no such excuse. I was sober the night I first took Grisella to bed, and all the nights thereafter. Have I truly sinned though? I am Ironborn. The Drowned God bids us take what we desire, and I had never desired anything more.
The thought is cold comfort.
I did not have long to dwell on my guilt, or lack thereof. Ravens came down to us from The Wall, bearing tidings of a Wilding Invasion led by some brute who styled himself 'Kyleg the Great'. Though loathe to be torn from my lover's embrace I knew the dangers Wildings presented. mine own uncle had fallen to wounds received when he slew the last savage King on field of battle.
There was also the matter of my son to consider. I did not think he knew of mine and Grisella's indiscretions, but he had a mind like a razor, and it was perhaps best to keep him distracted. What better, then, than his first war? By all accounts of his youthful adventures Bennarion always loved killing more than loveplay anyway.
We flew north with Drogon and joined the forces Lord Stark had raised to meet the invasion, some eight thousands or so. A paltry force, but sufficient to smash the invaders if we could bring them to battle. I took overall comand, whilst entrusting my right flank to Bennarion and my left to Lucas Cobb, a trusty Ironborn warrior.
We marched north, passing through Castle Black with the blessings of the Night's Watch and crossing into the wild lands Beyond the Wall. I had seen the wall before, for it is visible from great distance when a-wing on dragonback, but to actually fly over the ancient structure was a truly moving experience. Indeed, I may well have been the first true King to visit this desolate place in centuries. I asked Bennarion, who had led the men through the passage under the wall, if he felt similarly moved, but he simply shrugged his shoulders in teenage disdain.
After pausing to compose a poem dedicated to The Wall I led our men further into the wilderness, which was to prove harrying experience in itself. Kyleg ran from our superior forces, and as he knew the ground far better than we was able to evade us seemingly at will..
Our men started to die after the first week. Some froze in their tents, others fell prey to the hazardous terrain, whilst some simply died without cause or reason, and others just vanished into the snow. The men began to whisper of dark things skulking at the edges of our camp, preying on those fool enough to stray to far from the camp. They even told each other that our missing soldiers would sometimes return to camp days later, as walking corpses that killed their former friends until they were hacked apart and burned.
I treated such rumours with the disdain they deserved. Where were these wights and their illusory masters? All I ever saw were pieces of dead men my superstitious soldiers told me had been walking corpses they'd dispatched. It was preposterous, one might as well pretend we were being assaulted by grumpkins! Worse still, the Night's Watchmen that accompanied us seemed determined to spread such wild tales. The First Ranger even came up with excuses for me not seeing any of the creatures. "They fear t' Dragon, Yer Grace," the rascal said, face as straight as stone, "and it's always by yer side. If'n it weren't here...we'd most like all by corpses, shambling in the snow."
I rolled my eyes at his nonsense. Whatever the reason, we had lost close to three thousand men chasing Kyleg through the wilds, and so it was with glad heart I greeted tidings that we had cornered the bandit in his hall.
We descended on Kyleg's refuge with our remaining strength, some twenty times the force that he had gathered about him, and took his hall by storm. Our men were weakened by the travails of the campaign, but I suspect they were glad to be given the chance to fight. Bennarion, certainly, looked happy as I've ever seen him as he lead the charge, hacking open the gates with a battleaxe and reaping grisly harvest of wilding dead.
The battle was over quickly, and Kyleg dragged before me in chains. He looked up at me, distaste writ clear on his face, then marvelled as I ordered his bonds struck from him. This was how true Kings treated their prisoners, I told him, expounding about the virtues of noble rule in some detail.He was free to go as a part of the truce I wished to forge between us, and I bade him joy of the lands North of the Wall.
I'm quite sure I got through to him, odd chap that he was.
Bennarion and I returned south, but it seemed events had progressed somewhat in our absence. Grisella had begun to swell with child not long after we left for The Wall, and had given birth to twins, a son and daughter of distinctly Greyjoy countenance.
Naturally, my first thought was that this was no concern. Her husband was my own son, after all, and could well be the source of the children's features. But I had reckoned without Bennarions oddness. He rarely lay with his wife, he said, for he was often at sea and was of uncertain mood even when he was at Pyke. The age of the babes did not match the last time he and Grisella had been together, and he looked at me with eyes filled with a suspicion fast turning to certainty. A certainty that hid molten rage and promised bloody vengeance.
I sent them away, Bennarion and Grisella both. What else could I do? Bennarion left Pyke for his Lordship of Gravesham, under Falyses's watchful eye, and I tried to forget the rift I had caused in our family. My wife I could not so dismiss, and her cold fury was difficult to endure, but a man does what he must.
A year passed in relative quiet, and like a fool I began to hope that Bennarion might someday forgive me my crimes against him, but it was not to be. My Master of Whispers, Lady Asha, came to me one morning with words that chilled my heart, then wrenched it free of my breast. I should have known, I should have seen. My son was never a forgiving man. He was a Greyjoy.
I had Bennarion imprisoned. It was that or sit and wait to die, but my plan was not without purpose. I would call my son to trial by court, demonstrate his guilt, yet portray it as a youthful indiscretion, and pardon him of his crimes. Surely, I thought, my magnanimity would not go noticed? Bennarion would recognise I had forgiven him and so, in turn, forgive me, and all would be as it was between us.
The guards brought Bennarion up from the cells, to stand before the court. The maester asked him how he would plead, and received steely gaze in response.
"I am Bennarion of House Greyjoy, and I do not plead." My son said. "I choose the sword."
That was scant hours ago now. The trial by combat is to be held at Naga's Bones on the morrow, and I shall be the one who faces my son's blade.
It has to be me. My captains love my Bennarion, for in him they see the Kings of Old, but I know they would face him if I asked it, and some few of them may have skill enough to slay him. But why would I want that? Bennarion is my son, my poor, mad, little boy, and I would not have him die whilst I drew breath. My foolishness and presumption brought us here, and I must bear responsibility for it. I can not ask another to die in my place, not in this. I will face Bennarion tomorrow and die upon his sword. When, years from now, we meet in the Drowned God's Halls I will be the first of his ancestors to embrace him, and offer him my forgiveness.
Perhaps by then I will have earned his.
Last edited:
- 1
Now that is a very cool update! Son kills father, throne lost in the process! Heh, it will be interesting to see Bennarion fight for control of the Iron Throne.
Not the Iron Throne, the Seastone Chair. The Kingdom of the Iron Throne is centred around King's Landing in the east, currently held by the Targaryens.
It is a little odd that we have two canon kingdoms with 'Iron' in the title, but that's ASOIAF for ya.
Either way, yep we lost the throne. The Iron Islanders traditionally elect their Kings via Kingsmoot, and elective is the closest system we can get to it. It hasn't been a problem so far, but then our candidate was never a Kinslaying Lunatic before. We're also starting to get new electors as Balon's conquests drift into dejure. Ben actually finished distant third, behind Falyse in second.
Ben also lost the dragon, which has gone to his big sister. Things are not looking good.
What Ben does have is Pyke, a mastery of war, an aunt who rules the Westerlands, an uncle who rules the north, and money. Lots and lots of money earned by his father and grandmother.
It is a little odd that we have two canon kingdoms with 'Iron' in the title, but that's ASOIAF for ya.
Either way, yep we lost the throne. The Iron Islanders traditionally elect their Kings via Kingsmoot, and elective is the closest system we can get to it. It hasn't been a problem so far, but then our candidate was never a Kinslaying Lunatic before. We're also starting to get new electors as Balon's conquests drift into dejure. Ben actually finished distant third, behind Falyse in second.
Ben also lost the dragon, which has gone to his big sister. Things are not looking good.
What Ben does have is Pyke, a mastery of war, an aunt who rules the Westerlands, an uncle who rules the north, and money. Lots and lots of money earned by his father and grandmother.
I take it you plan to try and take the throne back. I wish you luck and hope that you can manage to successfully go against Drogon. I think this may finally be the end for the old boy if she doesn't support your attempt to gain the throne.
I don't actually know if I'll have to fight Drogon. Ben's sister hasn't tamed him yet, and even if she does I'm reasonably sure I can get her in my faction to overthrow Urron Harlaw. I might murder her to inherit it, as she's got no kids as of yet.
I'm not sure how much longer Drogon will live anyway. He's about 100 now. There are a few eggs knocking about though.
Last edited:
Any news on House Badics?
Also I love the end of Rook. At least he went down like an Ironborn.
Also I love the end of Rook. At least he went down like an Ironborn.
That was so badass. I can't wait to see Bennarion's diary. And a Harlaw on the Seastone Chair? That reminds me, I need to get around to that Harlaw AAR I've been planning.
Fun fact about Bennarion: He's the first King I've ever had who's descended from Jon Snow.
In fact he counts Jon, Robb, and Sansa amongst his ancestors. By blood the boy's more Wolf than Kraken.
They're still knocking about in the Westerlands. I might see if I can enrich them a bit if they side with me.
In fact he counts Jon, Robb, and Sansa amongst his ancestors. By blood the boy's more Wolf than Kraken.
They're still knocking about in the Westerlands. I might see if I can enrich them a bit if they side with me.
I need to get in character for him. Writing the diary of an angry lunatic is going to be fun.