The salty Dornishmen were lithe and dark, with smooth olive skin and long black hair streaming in the wind. The sandy Dornishmen were even darker, their faces burned brown by the hot Dornish sun. They wound long bright scarfs around their helms to ward off sunstroke. The stony Dornishmen were biggest and fairest, sons of the Andals and the First Men, brownhaired or blond, with faces that freckled or burned in the sun instead of browning —Tyrion, Chapter 38. A Storm of Swords.
its really hard to make a lego’s death dramatic
is boromir holding a banana
the greatest video game ever made
He’s not holding the banana. It’s what killed him.
(he also narrowly avoided being shot with a chicken)
Hey! This lady looks like my d&d character Reynemé
They are children, Sansa thought. They are silly little girls, even Elinor. They’ve never seen a battle, they’ve never seen a man die, they know nothing. Their dreams were full of songs and stories, the way hers had been before Joffrey cut her fathers head off. Sansa pitied them. Sansa envied them.”
WHAAATT? I get to drive this thing?!