Let me preface this with, I love both Khal Drogo and Daenerys as characters. I think they both have unique personalities and of all the plot lines you have to keep straight during the first season, theirs is the easiest and most entertaining (it may also help that Jason Momoa is pretty easy on the eyes). So now that I have shown you a lovely photo of Jason Momoa killing it as Khal Drogo- lets get to the part you may not like. He’s trash for the first part of season one. I know I know I just told you that I love his charcter but you can blame the adaption from book to the small screen for this statement. Khal Drogo bought Daenerys…he bought her. I think its hard to come back from that but arranged marriages still happen in todays time so while that part is horrible, I can kinda see it being reddemable based solely on the fact that it was the “norm” of society. The rape scene in the show though…trash. I just want to know how many women were helping make the adaption and were like ‘y...
Imagine sitting on the couch watching your favorite show. Your favorite character walks across the scene looking rather attractive. All of a sudden, they die. Well, if you’re a fan of Game of Thrones this happens every single time you turn on your television. Just like any other show, you don’t really find yourself wondering when the protagonist will die. It’s kind of just… implied that they will be on the show forever. With Game of Thrones , we see something a little different. Dating back to the first season, characters continuously get killed off with no remorse or warning. George R. R. Martin is genius in this way because he repeatedly gives us reasons to come back and figure out more. While I have never been a superfan of this show, I can say that I have never been so interested in seeing who will die next. This leads me to ask the question, is anyone truly safe in Game of Thrones ? The only answer to this question is absolutely not. In most...
The sky was hidden by a sheet of sticky fog from the morning’s rain, dark clouds just behind it threatening for another night of storms with thunder and rain. After sharing a stolen bottle of ale from tavern of your brother, you stumble into the old chapel just east of the village. The soul that follows you inside has only known you for a couple of moons, but with the pungent liquor still thick in their throat, they follow you into the church where piano carved by withering bastard sits to the left of the alter. The two of you sit on the bench, gasping when it tilts slightly from the weight of you both but managing to still keep you both upright. Their fingers touch the dusty keys of the instrument after you accept the bottle of ale they hold out for you to grab by the bottleneck. As you tip back your head to take a swig, they play a melody you didn’t know you had heard tales about. A tale of impending doom; o...
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