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ASOIAF: A Clash of Kings chapters by first sentence
A Song of Ice and Fire
Can you pick the POV character for each chapter of A Clash of Kings, given its first sentence?
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SPOILER WARNING for Book II. A few chapters' opening sentences get cut off because they're too long, but it's still possible to get the gist.
ASOIAF: A Storm of Swords chapters by first sentence
The comet’s tail spread across the dawn, a red slash that bled above the crags of Dragonstone like a wound in the pink and purple sky.
At Winterfell they had called her “[character] Horseface” and she’d thought nothing could be worse, but that was before the orphan boy Lommy Greenhands had named her “Lumpy
The morning of King Joffrey’s name day dawned bright and windy, with the long tail of the great comet visible through the high scuttling clouds.
In the chilly white raiment of the Kingsguard, Ser Mandon Moore looked like a corpse in a shroud.
[Character] preferred the hard stone of the window seat to the comforts of his featherbed and blankets.
They traveled dawn to dusk, past woods and orchards and neatly tended fields, through small villages, crowded market towns, and stout holdfasts.
“Sam?” [character] called softly.
Her son’s crown was fresh from the forge, and it seemed to [character] that the weight of it pressed heavy on Robb’s head.
Janos Slynt was a butcher’s son, and he laughed like a man chopping meat.
The road was little more than two ruts through the weeds.
The morning air was dark with the smoke of burning gods.
There was no safe anchorage at Pyke, but [character] wished to look on his father’s castle from the sea, to see it as he had seen it last, ten years before, when Robert Baratheon
The Dothraki named the comet shierak qiya, the Bleeding Star.
Whitetree, the village was named on Sam’s old maps.
The river was a blue-green ribbon shining in the morning sun.
The queen was not disposed to wait on Varys.
Long before the first pale fingers of light pried apart [character]’s shutters, his eyes were open.
“I do not sleep as I did when I was younger,” Grand Maester Pycelle told him, by way of apology for the dawn meeting.
Come to the godswood tonight, if you want to go home.
When she climbed all the way up to the highest branch, [character] could see chimneys poking through the trees.
They had warned him to dress warmly.
Dancer was draped in bardings of snowy white wool emblazoned with the grey direwolf of House Stark, while [character] wore grey breeches and white doublet, his sleeves and collar t
As she slept amidst the rolling grasslands, [character] dreamt that Bran was whole again, that Arya and Sansa held hands, that Rickon was still a babe at her breast.
A blowing rain lashed at [character]’s face as he spurred his horse across the swollen stream.
She was undeniably a beauty.
Through the door came the soft sound of the high harp, mingled with a trilling of pipes.
Fear cuts deeper than swords, [character] would tell herself, but that did not make the fear go away.
On the walls of Qarth, men beat gongs to herald her coming, while others blew curious horns that encircled their bodies like great bronze snakes.
Meera moved in a wary circle, her net dangling loose in her left hand, the slender three-pronged frog spear poised in her right.
The rushes were scratchy under the soles of his bare feet.
Whatever names Harren the Black had meant to give his towers were long forgotten.
The meeting place was a grassy sward dotted with pale grey mushrooms and the raw stumps of felled trees.
“The longer you keep him waiting, the worse it will go for you,” Sandor Clegane warned her.
It was full dark before they found the village.
The hill jutted above the dense tangle of forest, rising solitary and sudden, its windswept heights visible from miles off.
Alebelly found him in the forge, working the bellows for Mikken.
Varys stood over the brazier, warming his soft hands.
[Character] wiped the spittle off his cheek with the back of his hand.
Confusion and clangor ruled the castle.
Two days ride from Riverrun, a scout spied them watering their horses beside a muddy stream.
The drapes kept out the dust and heat of the streets, but they could not keep out disappointment.
The girl never wept.
Ser Cortnay Penrose wore no armor.
The call came drifting through the black of night.
“The queen intends to send Prince Tommen away.”
“Tell Father I have gone to make him proud.”
The sound was the faintest of clinks, a scraping of steel over stone.
“There’s ghosts, I know there is.”
In this city of splendors, [character] had expected the House of the Undying Ones to be the most splendid of all, but she emerged from her palanquin to behold a grey and ancient ru
“If you die stupidly, I’m going to feed your body to the goats,” [character] threatened as the first load of Stone Crows pushed off from the quay.
One moment he was asleep; the next, awake.
They could see the fire in the night, glimmering against the side of the mountain like a fallen star.
The southern sky was black with smoke.
It was dark in the Skirling Pass.
Pod dressed him for his ordeal in a plush velvet tunic of Lannister crimson and brought him his chain of office.
The Great Hall of Riverrun was a lonely place for two to sit to supper.
The sky was a gloom of cloud, the woods dead and frozen.
They had been singing in the sept all morning, since the first report of enemy sails had reached the castle.
Blackwater Bay was rough and choppy, whitecaps everywhere.
Motionless as a gargoyle, [character] hunched on one knee atop a merlon.
The torches shimmered brightly against the hammered metal of the wall sconces, filling the Queen’s Ballroom with silvery light.
The slot in his helm limited [character]’s vision to what was before him, but when he turned his head he saw three galleys beached on the tourney grounds, and a fourth, larger th
When Ser Lancel Lannister told the queen that the battle was lost, she turned her empty wine cup in her hands and said, “Tell my brother, ser.”
She was breaking her fast on a bowl of cold shrimp-and-persimmon soup when Irri brought her a Qartheen gown, an airy confection of ivory samite patterned with seed pearls.
The heads had been dipped in tar to slow the rot.
The throne room was a sea of jewels, furs, and bright fabrics.
Maester Luwin came to him when the first scouts were seen outside the walls.
He dreamed of a cracked stone ceiling and the smells of blood and s*** and burnt flesh.
When Qhorin Halfhand told him to find some brush for a fire, [character] knew their end was near.
The ashes fell like a soft grey snow.
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