If I Wanted To Honor You, I´d

I Don't Ever Want T' Leave This Cave, Jon Snow. Not Ever

I Wonder What The High Septon Would Have To Say About The Sanctity Of Oaths Sworn While Dead Drunk, Chained To A Wall, With A Sword Pressed To Your Chest?

It Was The Easiest Thing In The World For Arya To Step Up Behind Him And Stab Him. “is There Gold Hidden In The Village?” She Shouted As She Drove The Blade Up Through His Back. “is There Silver? Gems?” She Stabbed Twice More. “is There Food? Where Is Lord Beric?” She Was On Top Of Him By Then, Still Stabbing. “where Did He Go? How Many Men Were With Him? How Many Knights? How Many Bowmen? How Many, How Many, How Many, How Many, How Many, How Many? Is There Gold In The Village?

Light Our Fire And Protect Us From The Dark, Blah Blah, Light Our Way And Keep Us Toasty Warm, The Night Is Dark And Full Of Terrors, Save Us From The Scary Things, And Blah Blah Blah Some More.

I Love Fantasy. I Grew Up Reading Fantasy. But, I Wanted To Put A Somewhat Different Spin On It. The Whole Trope Of Absolute Good Versus Absolute Evil, Which Was Wonderful In The Hands Of J.r. Tolkien, Became Cliche And Rote In The Hands Of The Many Tolkien Imitators That Followed.