Well, this took way longer than I expected. There are only a few blanks I'd appreciate help in filling in. They are numbered for your convenience. I wasn't going to share this, but stumbling onto this forum and reading the already completed transcriptions, it couldn't hurt too much:
I edited your post rhllor, to make it a bit more discreet. /mod
Welcome to the Hearth! And thank you for the contribution!
"I can see it. You have more of the north in you than your brothers."
I tried so hard to ask why the animals don't wight at the wall except the horses at the fist. I got the microphone but he skipped me. Maybe bc I asked a question earlier. Thanks so much!
โNever forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armour yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.โ โ George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones
Well, this took way longer than I expected. There are only a few blanks I'd appreciate help in filling in. They are numbered for your convenience. I wasn't going to share this, but stumbling onto this forum and reading the already completed transcriptions, it couldn't hurt too much:
It was always midnight in the belly of the beast. The mutes had robbed him It was always midnight in the belly of the beast. The mutes had robbed him of his robe, his shoes, and breechclout. He wore hair and chains and scabs. Salt water sloughed about his legs whenever the tide came in, rising as high as his genitals, only to ebb again when the tide receded. His feet had grown huge and soft and puffy - shapeless things as big as hams. He knew that he was in some dungeon but not where or for how long. There had been another dungeon before this one. In between there had been the ship, the Silence. The night they moved him he had seen the moon floating on a black wine sea with a leering face that reminded him of Euron.
Rats moved in the darkness, swimming through the water. They would bite him as he slept, until he woke and drove them off with shouts and thrashings. Aeronโs beard and scalp crawled with lice and fleas and worms. He could feel them moving through his hair and the bites itched him intolerably. His chains were so short that he could not reach to scratch. The shackles that bound him to the wall were old and rusted, and his fetters had cut into his wrists. When the tide rushed in to kiss them, the salt got into the wounds and made him gasp. When he slept, the darkness would rise up and swallow him. Then the dream would come. And Urri. And the scream of a rusted hinge.
The only light in his wet world came from the lanterns the visitors brought with them, and they came so seldom it began to hurt his eyes. A nameless sour-faced man brought his food: salt beef as hard as wooden shingles, bread crawling with weevils, slimy, stinking fish. Aeron Damphair gobbled it down and hoped for more, though oft as not he wretched the meal up after. The man who brought the food was dark and dour, mute. His tongue was gone, Aeron did not doubt. That was Euronโs way. The light would leave when the mute did and once again his world would become a damp darkness, smelling of brine and mold and feces.
Sometimes Euron came himself. Aeron would wake from sleep to find his brother standing over him, lantern in hand. Once, aboard the Silence, he hung his lantern from a post and poured them cups wine.
โDrink with me brother,โ he said. That night he wore a shirt of iron scales and a cloak of blood red silk. His eyepatch was red leather, his lips blue.
โWhy am I here?โ Aeron croaked at him. His lips were crusty with scabs, his voice hard. โWhere are we sailing?โ
โSouth. For conquest, plunder, dragons.โ
Madness. โMy place is on the Islands.โ
โYour place is where I want you. I am your king.โ
โWhat do you want of me?โ
โWhat can you offer me that Iโve not had before?โ Euron smiled. โI left the Islands in the hands of old Erik Ironmaker, and sealed his loyalty with the hand of our sweet Asha. I would not have you preaching against his rule, so I took you with us.โ
โRelease me, the God commands it.โ
โDrink with me, your king commands it.โ Euron grabbed a handful of the priestโs tangled black hair, pulled his head back, and lifted the wine cup to his lips. But what flowed into his mouth was not wine. It was thick and viscous with a taste that seemed to change with every swallow - now bitter, now sour, now sweet. When Aeron tried to spit it out his brother tightened his grip and forced more down his throat. โThatโs it, priest, gulp it down. The wine of the warlocks, sweeter than your seawater but more truth in it than all the gods of earth.โ
โI curse you!โ Aeron said when the cup was empty. The liquor had dripped from down his chin into his long, black beard.
โIf I had the tongue of every man who cursed me, I could make a cloak of them.โ
Aeron hocked and spat. The spittle struck his brothers cheek and hung there, blue-black, glistening. Euron flicked it off his face with his forefinger, then licked the finger clean.
โYour god will come for you tonight. Some god, at least.โ
When the Damphair slept, sagging in his chains, he heard the creek of a rusted hinge. โUrri!โ he cried, but there was no hinge here, no door, no Urri. His brother Urrathon was long dead, yet there he stood. One arm was black and swollen and stinking with maggots but he was still Urri, still a boy, no older than the day he died.
โDo you know what waits below the sea, brother?โ
โThe Drowned God,โ Aeron said, โIn his watery hallsโ.
Urri shook his head. โWorms. Worms await you, Aeron.โ
When he laughed, his face sloughed off and the priest saw that it was not Urri, but Euron, his smiling eye hidden. He showed the world his blood eye now, dark and terrible. Clad head to heel in scale as dark as onyx, he sat upon a mound of blackened skulls as dwarves capered round his feet and a forest burned behind him.
โThe bleeding star bestowed the end,โ he said to Aeron. โThese are the last days, when the world shall be broken and remade, and new gods shall be born from the graves and [?1?] pits.โ Then Euron lifted a great horn to his lips and blew, and dragons and krakens and sphinxes came at his command and bowed before him.
โKneel, brother!โ The Crowโs Eye commanded. โI am your king! I am your God! Worship me, and I will raise you up to be my priest.โ
โNever! No godless man may sit the Seastone Chair! Why would I want that burnt, black rock?โ
โBrother, look again. See where I am seated.โ
Aeron Damphair looked. The mound of skulls was gone. Now it was metal underneath the Crowโs Eye - a great tall, twisted seat of razor sharp iron, barbs and blades and broken swords all dripping blood. Impaled upon the longer spikes were the bodies of the gods. The Maiden was there, and the Father, and the Mother, the Warrior and Crone and Smith. Even the Stranger. They hung, side by side with all manner of weird foreign gods: The Great Shepherd and the Black Goat, Three Headed Tryos and the pale child Bakkalon, the Lord of Light and the butterfly god of Namph. And there swollen and green, half devoured by crabs, the Drowned God festered with the rest, seawater still dripping from his hair. Then Euron Crowโs Eye laughed again and the priest woke screaming in the bowels of Silence as piss ran down his leg. It was only a dream, a vision born of foul, black wine.
The Kingsmoot was the last thing Damphair remembered clearly. As the captains lifted Euron onto their shoulders to hail him as their king, the priest had slipped off to find their brother Victarion.
โEuronโs blasphemies will bring down the Drowned Godโs wrath upon us all,โ he warned. But Victarion insisted stubbornly that God has raised their brother up, and that God must cast him down. He will not act, the priest had realized then. It must be me.
The Kingsmoot had chosen Euron Crowโs Eye, but the Kingsmoot was made of men, and men were weak and foolish things, too easily swayed by gold and lies. I summoned them here, to Nagaโs Bones in the Great Kingโs Hall. I called them all together to choose a righteous king, but in their drunken folly they have sinned. It was him to undo what they had done.
โThe captains and the kings raised Euron up, but the commonfolk shall tear him down,โ he promised Victarion. โI shall go to Great Wyk, to Harlaw, to Orkmont, to Pyke itself. In every town and village shall my words be heard. No godless man may sit the Seastone Chair!โ
After departing from his brother, he had saught solice in the sea. A few of his Drowned Men made to follow him but Aeron sent them off with a few sharp words. He wanted no company but God.
Down where the long ships had been beached along the stony strand, he found a black salt wave surging in, foaming white where they broke upon the [?2?] rock half buried in the sand. The water had been icy cold as he waded in, yet Aeron did not flinch from his godโs caress. Waves smashed against his chest, one after another, staggering him but he pushed on, deeper and deeper until the waters were breaking over his head. The taste of salt upon his lips was sweeter than any wine.
Mingled in the distant roar of song and celebration coming up from the beach, he heard the faint creek of longships settling on the strand, he heard the keening of the wind in their lines, the heard pounding of the waves, the hammer of his gods calling him to battle. There and then the Drowned God had come to him once more, his voice welling up from the depths of the sea.
"Aeron, my good and faithful servant, you must tell the Ironborn that the Crowโs Eye is no true king. That the Seastone Chair by rights belongs toโฆ toโฆ toโฆโฆ toโฆ"
Not Victarion. Victarion had offered himself to the captains and kings but they had spurned him. Not Asha. In his heart, Aeron had always loved Asha best of all his brother Balonโs children. The Drowned God had blessed her with a warriorโs spirit and the wisdom of a king, but he had cursed her with a womanโs body, too. No woman had ever ruled the Iron Islands. She should never have made a claim. She should have spoken for Victarion, added her own strength to his. It was not too late, Aeron had decided as he shivered in the sea. If Victarion took Asha for his wife they could yet rule together, king and queen. In ancient days each isle had its Salt King and its Rock King. Let the Old Way return.
Aeron Damphair had struggled back to shore, full of fierce resolve. He would bring down Euron not with sword or axe, but with the power of his faith. Padding lightly across the stones, his hair plastered black and dank across his brow and cheeks, he stopped for a moment to push it back out of his eyes.
Thatโs where they took him - the mutes who had been watching him, waiting for him, stalking him through strand and spray. A hand clapped down across his mouth and something hard cracked against the back of his skull. The next time he opened his eyes, the Damphair found himself fettered in the darkness. Then came the fever, and the taste of blood in his mouth as he twisted in the chains deep in the bowels of Silence.
Weaker men might have cried but Aeron Damphair prayed. Waking, sleeping, even in his fever dreams he prayed. My God is testing me. I must be strong. I must be true.
Once, in the dungeon before this one, a woman brought his food in place of Euronโs mute. A young thing, buxom and pretty, she dressed in the finery of a green land lady. In the lantern light she was the lovliest thing Aeron had ever seen.
โWoman,โ he said, โI am a man of God. I command you to set me free.โ
โOh I couldnโt do that,โ she said, โbut I food for you, porridge and honey.โ She sat beside him on a stool and spooned it into his mouth for him.
โWhat is this place?โ he asked between spoonfulls.
โMy lord fatherโs castle on Oakenshield.โ
Oakenshield? Thatโs a thousand leagues from home. โAnd who are you, child?โ
โFalia Flowers, Lord Hewitts natural daughter. I am to be King Euronโs salt wife. You and I will be kin then.โ
Aeron Damphair raised his eyes to hers. His scabbed lips were crusted with wet porridge. โWoman,โ his chains clinked when he moved. โRun. He will hurt you. He will kill you.โ
She laughed. โSilly, he wonโt. Iโm his love, his lady. He gave me gifts, so many gifts. Silks and furs and jewels. Rags and rocks, he calls them. The Crowโs Eye puts no value in such things.โ That was one of the things that drew men to his service. Most captains kept the lionโs share of their plunder, but Euron took almost nothing for himself.
โHe gives me any gown I want,โ the girl was prattling happily. โMy sisters used to make me wait on them at table, but Euron made them serve the whole hall naked. Why should he do that except for love of me?โ She put her hand on her belly and smoothed down the fabric of her gown. โIโm going to give him sons, so many sons.โ
โHe has sons. Baseborn boys and mongrels, Euron says.โ
โMy sons will come before them. He has sworn, sworn by your own Drowned God.โ
Aeron would have wept for her. Tears of blood, he thought. โYou must bear a message to my brother, not Euron but Victarion, Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet. Do you know the man I mean?โ
Falia stepped back from him. โYes,โ she said. โBut I couldnโt bring him any messages. Heโs gone.โ
โGone?โ That was the cruelest blow of all. โGone where?โ
โEast,โ she said, โwith all the ships. Heโs to bring the dragon queen to Westeros. Iโm to be Euronโs salt wife, but my love must have a rock wife, too, a queen to rule all Westeros at his side. They say sheโs the most beautiful woman in the world, and she has dragons. The two of us will be as close as sisters.โ
Aeron Damphair [?3?]. Victarion is gone, half a world a way or dead. Surely the Drowned God was testing him. This was a lesson for him. Put not your trust in men. Only my faith can save me now.
That night when the tide came rushing back into the present cell, he prayed it might rise the whole night, enough to end his torment.
โI have been your true and leal servant,โ he prayed, twisting in his chains. โNow snatch me from my brothers hand and take me down beneath the waves to be seated at your side.โ But no deliverance came. Only the mutes to undo his chains and drag him roughly up a long stone stair to where the Silence floated on a cold, black sea.
A few days later, as her hull shuddered in the grip some storm, the Crowโs Eye came below again, lantern in hand. This time his other hand held a dagger.
โStill praying priest? Your god has forsaken you.โ
โYouโre wrong.โ
โIt was me who taught you how to pray, little brother. Have you forgotten? I would visit your bedchamber at night when I had too much to drink. You shared a room with Urrathon high up in the Sea Tower. I could hear you praying from outside the door and I always wondered, were you praying that I would choose you or pass you by?โ Euron pressed the knife to Aeronโs throat. โPray to me. Beg me to end your torment and I will.โ
โNot even you would dare,โ said the Damphair. โI am your brother. No man is more cursed than the kinslayer.โ
โAnd yet I wear with a crown and you rot in chains. How is it that your Drowned God allows that when I have killed three brothers?โ
Aeron could only gape at him. โThree?โ
โWell, if you count half brothers. Do you remember little Robin? What a wretched creature. Do you remember that big head of his, how soft it was? All he could do was mewl and shit. He was my second. Harlon was my first. All I had to do was pinch his nose shut. The greyscale had turned his mouth to stone so he could not cry out. But his eyes grew frantic as he died, they begged me. When the life went out of them, I went out and pissed into the sea and waited for the God to strike me down. None did. Oh, and Balon was the third but you knew that. I could not do the deed myself but it was my hand that pushed him off the bridge.โ The Crowโs eye pressed the dagger in a little deeper and Aeron felt blood trickling down his neck.
โIf your Drowned God could not smite me for killing three brothers, why should he bestir himself for a fourth. Because you are his priest?โ He stepped back and sheathed his dagger. โNo, I will not kill you tonight. A holy man with holy blood, I might be in need of that blood later. For now, you are condemned to live.โ
A holy man with holy blood, Aeron thought when his brother climbed back onto the deck. He mocks me and he mocks the god. Kinslayer. Blasphemer. Demon in human skin. That night he prayed for his brotherโs death.
It was in the second dungeon that the other holy men began to appear to share his torment. Three wore the robes of septons of the green lands, and one the red raiment of a priest of Rโhllor. The last was hardly recognizable as a man. Both his hands had been burned down to the bone and his face was a charred and blackened horror where two blind eyes moved sighlightlesly above cracked cheeks dripping puss. He was dead within hours of being shackled to the wall, but the mutes left his body there to ripen for three days afterwards. Last were two warlocks of the east with flesh as white as mushrooms and lips the purplish blue of a bad bruise. Both so gaunt and starved that only skin and bones remained.
One had lost his legs. The mutes hung him from a rafter. โPree!โ he cried as he swung back and forth. โPree! Pree!โ Perhaps that was the name of the demon that he worshipped.
The Drowned God protects me, the priest told himself. He is stronger than the false gods these other worship. Stronger than their black sorceries. The Drowned God will set me free. In his saner moments Aeron questioned why the Crowโs Eye was collecting priests, but he did not think that he would like the answer.
Victarion was gone and with him hope. Aeronโs Drowned Men likely thought the Damphair was hiding on Old wyk or Great Wyk or Pyke and wondered when he would emerge to speak against this goldess king. Urrathon wanted his fever dreams. Youโre dead Urri, Aeron thought. Sleep now, child, and trouble me no more. Soon I shall come to join you.
Whenever Aeron prayed, the legless warlock made queer noises and his companion babbled wildly in his weird eastern tongue, but whether they were cursing or pleading the priest could not say. The septons made soft noises from time to time as well, but not in words he could understand. Aeron suspected that their tongues had been cut out.
When Euron came again, his hair was swept straight back from his brow and his lips were so blue they were almost black. He had put aside his driftwood crown. In its place he wore an iron crown whose points were made from the teeth of sharks.
โThat which is dead cannot die,โ said Aeron fiercely. โFor he has tasted death once, heโd never fear again. He was drowned but he came forth stronger than before, with steel and fire.โ
โWill you do the same brother?โ Euron asked. โI think not. I think if I drowned you, youโd stay drowned. All gods are lies, but yours is laughable. The pale white thing in the likeness of a man, his limbs bloated and swollen and his hair floating in the water while fish nibble at his face. What fool would worship that?โ
โHe is your god as well,โ insisted the Damphair. โAnd when you die, he will judge you harshly, Crowโs Eye. You will spend eternity as a sea slug, crawling on your belly eating shit. You do not fear to kill your own blood. Slit my throat and be done with me. Iโm weary of your mad boastings.โ
โKill my own little brother, blood of my blood, born of the loins of Quellon Greyjoy? Then who would share my triumphs? Victories are sweeter with a loved one by your side.โ
โYour victories are hollow. You cannot hold the Shields.โ
โWhy should I want to hold them?โ his brotherโs smiling eye glittered in the lantern light, blue and bold and full of malace. โThe Shields have served my purpose. I took them with one hand and gave them away with the other. A great king is open handed, brother. It is up to their new lords to hold them now. The glory of winning those rocks will be mine forever. When they are lost, the defeat will belong to the four fools who so eagerly accepted my gifts.โ He moved closer. โOur longships are raiding up the Mander and all along the coast. Even to the Arbor and the Redwyne Straights. The old way, brother.โ
Madness. โRelease me,โ Aeron Damphair commanded in his sternest voice, โor risk the wroth of God.โ
Euron produced a carved stone bottle and a wine cup. โYou have a thirsty look about you,โ he said as he poured. โYou need to drink, a taste of the evening shade.โ
โNo,โ Aeron turned his face away. โNo, I said.โ
โAnd I said yes.โ Euron pulled his head back by the hair and forced the vile liquor into his mouth again. Though Aeron clamped his mouth shut, twisting his head from side to side and fought as best he could, in the end he had to choke or swallow.
The dreams were even worse the second time. He saw the longships of the Ironborn adrift and burning on a boiling blood red sea. He saw his brother on the Iron Throne again but Euron was no longer human. He seemed more squid than man, a monster fathered by a kraken of the deep, his face a mass of writhing tentacles. Beside him stood a shadow in a womanโs form, long and tall and terrible, her hands alive with pale white fire. Dwarfs capered for their amusement, male and female, naked and mishapen, locked in carnal embrace, biting and tearing at each other as Euron and his mate laughed, and laughed, and laughed.
Aeron dreamed of drowning, too. [?4?] the bliss that would surely follow down in the Drowned Godโs watery halls, but of the terror that even the faithful feel when water fills their mouth and nose and lungs and they cannot draw a breath. Three times the Damphair woke and three times it proved to be no true waking, only another chapter in the dream.
But at last there came a day when the door of the dungeon swung open and the mute came splashing through with no food in his hands. Instead he had a ring of keys in one hand and a lantern in the other. The light was too bright to look upon and Aeron was afraid of what it meant, bright and terrible. Something has changed, something has happened.
โBring them,โ said a half familiar voice in the [?5?]. โBe quick about it. You know how he gets.โ Oh I do, I have known since I was a boy.
One septon made a frightened noise as the mute undid his chains, a half choked sound that might have been some attempt at speech. The legless warlock stared down at the black water, his lips moving silently in prayer. When the mute came for Aeron he tried to struggle, but the strengnth had gone from his limbs and one blow was all it took to quiet him. His wrist was unshackled, then the other.
Free, he told himself. Iโm free. But when he tried to take a step, his weakened legs folded under him. Not one of the prisoners was fit enough to walk. In the end the mutes had to summon more of their kind. Two of them grasped Aeron by the arms and dragged him up a spiral stair. His feet banged off the steps as they ascended, sending stabbing pains up his legs. He bit his lips to keep from crying out. The priest could hear the warlocks babbling just behind him. The septons brought up the rear, sobbing and gasping.
With every turn of the stair the steps grew brighter, until finally a window appeared in the left hand wall. It was only a slit in the stone, a bare hands breadth across, but that was wide enough to emit a shaft of sunlight. So golden, the Damphair thought. So beautiful. When they pulled him up the steps through the light, he felt its warmth upon his face and tears rolled down his cheeks.
The sea. I can smell the sea. The Drowned God has not abandoned me, the sea will make me whole again. That which is dead can never die, but rises again harder and stronger. โTake me to the water,โ he commanded as if he were still back on the Iron Islands surrounded by his Drowned Men, but the mutes were his brotherโs creatures and they paid him no heed. They dragged him up more steps, down a torchlit gallery, and into a bleak stone hall where a dozen bodies were hanging from the rafters, turning and swaying.
A dozen of Euronโs captains were gathered in the hall, drinking wine beneath the corpses. Left-Hand Lucas Codd sat in the place of honor wearing a heavy silken tapestry as a cloak. Beside him was the Red Oarsman, further down Pinchface John Myre, Stonehand, and Rugen Saltbeard.
โWho are these dead?โ Aeron demanded. His tongue was so thick the words came out in a rusty whisper, faint as a mouse breaking wind.
โThe lord that held this castle with his kin.โ The voice belonged to Torwold Browntooth, one of his brotherโs captains - a creature near as vile as the Crowโs Eye himself.
โPigs,โ said another vile creature, the one they call the Red Oarsman. โThis was their isle, a rock just off the Arbor. They dared oink threats at us. Redwyne, Oink! Hightower, Oink! Tyrell, Oink! Oink! Oink! So we sent them squealing down to hell.โ
The Arbor. Not since the Drowned God had blessed him with a second life had Aeron Damphair ventured so far from the Iron Islands. This is not my place. I do not belong here. I should be with my Drowned Men preaching against the Crowโs Eye.
โHave your gods been good to you down in the dark?โ asked Left-Hand Lucas Codd. One of the warlocks snarled some answer in his ugly eastern tongue.
โI curse you all,โ Aeron said.
โYour curses have no power here, priest,โ said Left-Hand Lucas Codd. โThe Crowโs Eye has fed your Drowned God well, and he has grown fat with sacrifice. Words are wind but blood is power. We have given thousands to the sea, and he has given us victories.โ
โCount yourself blessed, Damphair,โ said Stonehand. โWeโre going back to sea. The Redwyne fleet creeps toward us. The winds have been against them rounding Dorne but they are finally near enough to have emboldened the old women in Old Town, so now Leighton Hightowerโs son has moved down Whispering Sound in hopes of catching us in the rear.โ
โYou know what its like to be caught in the rear, donโt you?โ said the Red Oarsmen, laughing.
โTake them to the ships,โ Torwold Browntooth commanded.
And so Aeron Damphair returned to the salt sea. A dozen longships were drawn up at the wharf below the castle and twice as many beeched along the strand. Familiar banners streamed from their masts - the Greyjoy kraken, the bloody moon of Wynch, the warhorn of the Goodbrothers. But from their sterns flew a flag the priest had never seen before: a red eye with a black pupil beneath an iron crown, supported by two crows. Beyond them a host of merchant ships floated on a tranquil turquoise sea - cogs, carracks, fishing boats, even a great cog, a swollen sow of a ship as big as a leviathan. Prizes of war, the Damphair knew.
Euron Crowโs Eye stood upon the deck of Silence clad in a suit of black scale armor unlike anything Aeron had ever seen before. Dark as smoke it was, but Euron wore it as easily as if it was the thinnest silk. The scales were edged in red gold that gleamed and simmered when he moved. Patterns could be seen within the metal, whirls and glyphs and arcane symbols folded into the steel.
Valyrian steel, the Damphair knew. His armor is Valyrian steel. In all the Seven Kingdoms no man owned a suit of Valyrian steel. Such things had been known 400 years ago in the days before the Doom, but even then they would have cost a kingdom. Euron did not lie, he has been to Valyria. No wonder he was mad.
โYour grace,โ said Torwold Browntooth, โI have the priests, what do you want done with them?โ
โBind them to the prows,โ Euron commanded. โMy brother on the Silence. Take one for yourself. Let them [?6?] for the others, one to a ship. Let them feel the spray, the kiss of the Drowned God, wet and salty.โ This time the mutes did not drag him below. Instead they latched him to the prow of the Silence, beside her figure head - a naked maiden, slim and strong, with outstretched arms and windblown hair, but no mouth below her nose. They bound Aeron Damphair tight with strips of leather that would shrink when wet. Clad only in his beard and breechclout.
The Crowโs Eye spoke a command and a black sail was raised, lines were cast off, and the Silence backed away from the shore to the slow beat of the oarmasters drum, her oars rising and dipping and rising again, churning the water. Above them the castle was burning, flames licking from the open windows.
When they were well out to sea, Euron returned to him. โBrother,โ he said, โyou look forlorn. I have a gift for you.โ He beckoned and two of his bastard sons dragged a woman forward and bound her to the prow on the other side of the figurehead. Naked as the mouthless maiden, her smooth belly just beginning to swell with the child she was carrying, her cheeks red with tears, she did not struggle as the boys tightened her bonds. Her hair hung down infront of her face, but Aeron knew her all the same.
โFalia Flowers!โ he called, โHave courage, girl! All this will be over soon and we will feast together in the Drowned Godโs watery halls!โ
The girl raised up her head but made no answer. She has no tongue to answer with, Damphair knew. He licked his lips and tasted salt.
Welcome, and thanks so much for joining us and participate. I was expecting more backlash about the recording, but really, who DIDN'T record it and come up with a perfect 45 min transcript?
โNever forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armour yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.โ โ George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones
Should we try and combine on word processing software and post so we can link it and not get flamed by detractors?
โNever forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armour yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.โ โ George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones
Should we try and combine on word processing software and post so we can link it and not get flamed by detractors?
i am only missing like 6 blanks, otherwise my version is basically complete. The formatting is as close as I could get it to an actual novel chapter. Any changes I should make are welcome.
Welcome, and thanks so much for joining us and participate. I was expecting more backlash about the recording, but really, who DIDN'T record it and come up with a perfect 45 min transcript?
There seemed to be quite a backlash on Reddit, with most posts being deleted or hidden. No where else have I found a recording beyond this forum, which is what I used to transcribe. If someone else has a recording, feel free to share it with me so I may fill in the few blanks, or use yours to figure them out and share that way. I don't think the recording should have been shared, but I and a huge portion of the community are thankful for it, I'm sure. This is why i was being cautious with the transcript and only posted it here because you all were well on your way.
Welcome, and thanks so much for joining us and participate. I was expecting more backlash about the recording, but really, who DIDN'T record it and come up with a perfect 45 min transcript?
There seemed to be quite a backlash on Reddit, with most posts being deleted or hidden. No where else have I found a recording beyond this forum, which is what I used to transcribe. If someone else has a recording, feel free to share it with me so I may fill in the few blanks, or use yours to figure them out and share that way. I don't think the recording should have been shared, but I and a huge portion of the community are thankful for it, I'm sure. This is why i was being cautious with the transcript and only posted it here because you all were well on your way.
That said, I'm loving this forum.
Lol! Everyone wants to hear it, that's why, they just don't want to admit it. I knew ppl would listen anyway, but I might keep it up because it's enjoyable to listen to him read.
My forum, my house, my rules. I knew the masses would be happy, and they were listening; I saw the guest numbers yesterday! Lol. Yep, with Damphair.
Dont hate the haters, hate the game.
โNever forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armour yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.โ โ George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones
rhllor, just curious, how did you hear we had the recording? I was deleted on Reddit and I think I put it on FB & Twitter. Feel free to pass on the word as long as it's not a mod or admin from Westeros. Or a couple others I'll keep to myself, lol!
โNever forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armour yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.โ โ George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones
PS: you all get consolation prizes and full credit!
I just #'d bc I only know WWS's Twitter account
โNever forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armour yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.โ โ George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones
Welcome, and thanks so much for joining us and participate. I was expecting more backlash about the recording, but really, who DIDN'T record it and come up with a perfect 45 min transcript?
There seemed to be quite a backlash on Reddit, with most posts being deleted or hidden. No where else have I found a recording beyond this forum, which is what I used to transcribe. If someone else has a recording, feel free to share it with me so I may fill in the few blanks, or use yours to figure them out and share that way. I don't think the recording should have been shared, but I and a huge portion of the community are thankful for it, I'm sure. This is why i was being cautious with the transcript and only posted it here because you all were well on your way.
That said, I'm loving this forum.
Ill pm you I have a cleaned up version of the recording and one from a source who is someone who isn't me. Sorry about the commentary. Actually some people at the W laughed and liked it
โNever forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armour yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.โ โ George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones
rhllor, just curious, how did you hear we had the recording? I was deleted on Reddit and I think I put it on FB & Twitter. Feel free to pass on the word as long as it's not a mod or admin from Westeros. Or a couple others I'll keep to myself, lol!
I caught the /r/ASOIAF post and quickly downloaded, then spent the better part of like 6 hours transcribing and formatting. I found the forum afterwards because it is the domain that hosted the transcript, and discovered this is a forum and found this thread to post it in.