Game of Thrones

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Nevermore669
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Re: Game of Thrones

Post#16 » Tue Apr 26, 2011 4:17 pm

Yeah, excalibur...I'm not sure I liked that whole excalibur plot they wrote - with the killing of the smith and the lady of the lake (who was said to have given excalibur to arthur) becoming instead a frightened, angry young woman, drowning accidentally at the hand of merlin...I don't know...I was rather a fan of the original stories once, and this is definitely a departure, and I didn't really like it too much - though I admit it was well done.
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A bleeding heart is a symbol of holiness, a symbol of compassion, not an epithet

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Kenny_Tha_Killa
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Re: Game of Thrones

Post#17 » Tue Apr 26, 2011 4:37 pm

Idk, to me, you can only tell the same story so many times before it starts to get stale and predictable. I like the different spin they put on Excalibur/Lady Of The Lake and it's those kinds of story twists that are keeping me interested in the show. That and it's going to be fun to watch that skinny, self centered punk grow into the hero we all know as Arthur.
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OHMEGA
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Re: Game of Thrones

Post#18 » Tue Apr 26, 2011 4:54 pm

So no one really knows who the blue eyed peeps are?
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Kenny_Tha_Killa
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Re: Game of Thrones

Post#19 » Tue Apr 26, 2011 5:04 pm

They are supernatural creatures called "White Walkers".
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fatgirlstryhard
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Re: Game of Thrones

Post#20 » Tue Apr 26, 2011 11:35 pm

let me rephrase after seeing ep2... game of thrones is AWESOMENESS.

camelot is good fantasy but no comparison. HBO is the shit.
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skeletor
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Re: Game of Thrones

Post#21 » Wed Apr 27, 2011 1:22 am

yepp ... HBO seems to pull one out of the hat again ... so far so good ... :D
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Nevermore669
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Re: Game of Thrones

Post#22 » Wed Apr 27, 2011 3:20 pm

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Here's the bit from the prologue of the first book where the white walkers attack the guardians of the night's watch. The guy, will, is the one who will eventually be executed by the king. They have crested the hillock in the forest, overlooking the small camp where the corpses were lying.

Will saw movement from the corner of his eye. Pale shapes gliding through the wood. He turned his head, glimpsed a white shadow in the darkness. Then it was gone. Branches stirred gently in the wind, scratching at one another with wooden fingers. Will opened his mouth to call down a warning, and the words seemed to freeze in his throat. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps it had only been a bird, a reflection on the snow, some trick of the moonlight. What had he seen, after all?
“Will, where are you?” Ser Waymar called up. “Can you see anything?” He was turning in a slow circle, suddenly wary, his sword in hand. He must have felt them, as Will felt them. There was nothing to see. “Answer me! Why is it so cold?”
It was cold. Shivering, Will clung more tightly to his perch. His face pressed hard against the trunk of the sentinel. He could feel the sweet, sticky sap on his cheek.
A shadow emerged from the dark of the wood. It stood in front of Royce. Tall, it was, and gaunt and hard as old bones, with flesh pale as milk. Its armor seemed to change color as it moved; here it was white as new-fallen snow, there black as shadow, everywhere dappled with the deep grey-green of the trees. The patterns ran like moonlight on water with every step it took.
Will heard the breath go out of Ser Waymar Royce in a long hiss. ”Come no farther,” the lordling warned. His voice cracked like a boy’s. He threw the long sable cloak back over his shoulders, to free his arms for battle, and took his sword in both hands. The wind had stopped. It was very cold.
The Other slid forward on silent feet. In its hand was a longsword like none that Will had ever seen. No human metal had gone into the forging of that blade. It was alive with moonlight, translucent, a shard of crystal so thin that it seemed almost to vanish when seen edge-on. There was a faint blue shimmer to the thing, a ghost-light that played around its edges, and somehow Will knew it was sharper than any razor.
Ser Waymar met him bravely. “Dance with me then.” He lifted his sword high over his head, defiant. His hands trembled from the weight of it, or perhaps from the cold. Yet in that moment, Will thought, he was a boy no longer, but a man of the Night’s Watch.
The Other halted. Will saw its eyes; blue, deeper and bluer than any human eyes, a blue that burned like ice. They fixed on the longsword trembling on high, watched the moonlight running cold along the metal. For a heartbeat he dared to hope.
They emerged silently from the shadows, twins to the first. Three of them . . . four . . . five . . . Ser Waymar may have felt the cold that came with them, but he never saw them, never heard them. Will had to call out. It was his duty. And his death, if he did. He shivered, and hugged the tree, and kept the silence.
The pale sword came shivering through the air.
Ser Waymar met it with steel. When the blades met, there was no ring of metal on metal; only a high, thin sound at the edge of hearing, like an animal screaming in pain. Royce checked a second blow, and a third, then fell back a step. Another flurry of blows, and he fell back again.
Behind him, to right, to left, all around him, the watchers stood patient, faceless, silent, the shifting patterns of their delicate armor making them all but invisible in the wood. Yet they made no move to interfere.
Again and again the swords met, until Will wanted to cover his ears against the strange anguished keening of their clash. Ser Waymar was panting from the effort now, his breath steaming in the moonlight. His blade was white with frost; the Other’s danced with pale blue light.
Then Royce’s parry came a beat too late. The pale sword bit through the ringmail beneath his arm. The young lord cried out in pain. Blood welled between the rings. It steamed in the cold, and the droplets seemed red as fire where they touched the snow. Ser Waymar’s fingers brushed his side. His moleskin glove came away soaked with red.
The Other said something in a language that Will did not know; his voice was like the cracking of ice on a winter lake, and the words were mocking.
Ser Waymar Royce found his fury. “For Robert!” he shouted, and he came up snarling, lifting the frost-covered longsword with both hands and swinging it around in a flat sidearm slash with all his weight behind it. The Other’s parry was almost lazy.
When the blades touched, the steel shattered.
A scream echoed through the forest night, and the longsword shivered into a hundred brittle pieces, the shards scattering like a rain of needles. Royce went to his knees, shrieking, and covered his eyes. Blood welled between his fingers.
The watchers moved forward together, as if some signal had been given. Swords rose and fell, all in a deathly silence. It was cold butchery. The pale blades sliced through ringmail as if it were silk. Will closed his eyes. Far beneath him, he heard their voices and laughter sharp as icicles.
When he found the courage to look again, a long time had passed, and the ridge below was empty.
He stayed in the tree, scarce daring to breathe, while the moon crept slowly across the black sky. Finally, his muscles cramping and his fingers numb with cold, he climbed down.
Royce’s body lay facedown in the snow, one arm outflung. The thick sable cloak had been slashed in a dozen places. Lying dead like that, you saw how young he was. A boy.
He found what was left of the sword a few feet away, the end splintered and twisted like a tree struck by lightning. Will knelt, looked around warily, and snatched it up. The broken sword would be his proof. Gared would know what to make of it, and if not him, then surely that old bear Mormont or Maester Aemon. Would Gared still be waiting with the horses? He had to hurry.
Will rose. Ser Waymar Royce stood over him.
His fine clothes were a tatter, his face a ruin. A shard from his sword transfixed the blind white pupil of his left eye.
The right eye was open. The pupil burned blue. It saw.
The broken sword fell from nerveless fingers. Will closed his eyes to pray. Long, elegant hands brushed his cheek, then tightened around his throat. They were gloved in the finest moleskin and sticky with blood, yet the touch was icy cold.


Definitely better in the book, but probably too expensive or something for the series - too bad.
Ignorance and callousness are not virtues

A bleeding heart is a symbol of holiness, a symbol of compassion, not an epithet

When our discourse sinks to the level of meaningless, pejorative labels and personal name-calling rather than honest reflection and reasoned dialogue, we are no longer a people, but a mob

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r!co
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Re: Game of Thrones

Post#23 » Wed Apr 27, 2011 7:06 pm

yup 2nd episode was good it is def growing on me and i can't wait for the next one,...... I never read or even heard of the books so this is all new to me but so far me likey :ugeek:
If I burn any bridges, I'll just come back on a yacht.


Western
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Re: Game of Thrones

Post#24 » Mon May 02, 2011 9:19 am

This looks really solid, the characters seems lovable but no one is "totally good", just like in real life. Good job so far (3 episodes in) Home Box Office!

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r!co
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Re: Game of Thrones

Post#25 » Wed May 04, 2011 4:15 pm

good 3rd episode the starks are tough muthas lol his bastard son who went to join the kinghts watch is regretting that decision hahaha but sumthing tells me he gonna be a bad ass mofo one day...
the queens family meh what can i say these fuckers are lil bitches, the dwarf is ok i guess but the rest are lil punks, king slayers says it all lmao......
oh and winter is comming and it's gonna be a long one, oooooooooooh shit!
If I burn any bridges, I'll just come back on a yacht.

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r!co
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Re: Game of Thrones

Post#26 » Tue May 31, 2011 6:40 pm

All i can say for episode 7 is WOW! what a fuckin episode i am now completley sold on this show and just bought the books as well....
If I burn any bridges, I'll just come back on a yacht.

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Nevermore669
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Re: Game of Thrones

Post#27 » Fri Jun 03, 2011 4:06 am

Yeah, this part of the story was very well done. Doesn't look good for Stark....
Ignorance and callousness are not virtues

A bleeding heart is a symbol of holiness, a symbol of compassion, not an epithet

When our discourse sinks to the level of meaningless, pejorative labels and personal name-calling rather than honest reflection and reasoned dialogue, we are no longer a people, but a mob

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r!co
Heart on for IceFlims
Posts: 198

Re: Game of Thrones

Post#28 » Fri Jun 03, 2011 4:01 pm

Nevermore669 wrote:Yeah, this part of the story was very well done. Doesn't look good for Stark....



hehe nope
If I burn any bridges, I'll just come back on a yacht.

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Kenny_Tha_Killa
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Re: Game of Thrones

Post#29 » Mon Jun 13, 2011 4:15 am

After tonight's episode, I officially don't give two shits about this show anymore.....

....fuck them for killing off Ned Stark.
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Starfox
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Re: Game of Thrones

Post#30 » Mon Jun 13, 2011 9:13 am

Has any one actully read the books? so far its been pretty spot on. just wondering what others thought.

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