III-2: Darkest Before Dawn – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – The night was dead cold, colder than a witch’s tit. Unusual even for the North. Each and every one of the men felt it in their bones as they worked under the dim light of a…
II-25: The Prince – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – The Red Keep stretched vast and lonely around Tommen, its towering walls of red stone reaching up toward the warm autumn sky like the illustrations of magic castles in his favorite books. He’d slipped away from his…
II-24: Dread Lord – o – o – o – o – o – o – o –The ancient stones of the Dreadfort whispered beneath Roose Bolton’s boots as he strode through its shadowed corridors, each measured step echoing with the weight of centuries. High above, massive oak rafters stretched like the ribs of some…
II-22: Blood on Snow iV – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – Somebody kill me. Greg stood there, panting like a dog, chest heaving and breath coming in ragged gasps that sounded way too loud in the frozen silence of the woods. Somewhere in the back of…
II-23: The Bard III – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – As dusk melded into the frigid darkness of the North, the wintry shroud enveloped the rugged terrain, snuffing out the dying light save for the sporadic flickers of hearth fires that punctuated the landscape. Nestled within…
II-21: Blood on Snow III – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – Her breath came in ragged gasps, misting briefly in the frigid air before dissipating into the dark as Gwenna rushed through the depths of the forest. Fear, raw and biting, clawed at her insides and…
II-18: The Bard II – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – “Dael.” The word left Lord Veder’s mouth like a hiss, and Oren stepped back instinctively at the sheer vitriol in the sound. His fingers twitched around his newly recovered lute—he’d heard murder in men’s voices before,…
II-19: Blood on Snow I – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – “Bloody Snow’s heading to Frostfall.” Greg’s heart didn’t just skip a beat – it fucking stopped. The five words hit him like a punch to the gut, Dael’s gravelly voice cutting through the morning air…
II-22: Blood on Snow II – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – The chill of the North bit deep into Ramsay’s bones as he guided Blood through the decaying hamlet. His destrier’s breath emerged in great steaming clouds, mingling with the mist that rose from the thawing…
II-17: The Blood Price “Son of a…” The inn’s door creaked shut behind Greg with a hollow thud that matched the empty feeling in his chest. Dawn had long since broken over the village, pale light creeping over thatched roofs like nature’s way of making a joke of everything that had happened last night. Birds…
