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ASOIAF: A Dance with Dragons chapters by first sentence
A Song of Ice and Fire
Can you pick the POV character for each chapter of A Dance with Dragons, given its first sentence?
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Click the green button to start and click the correct answers below
SPOILER WARNING for Book V. A few chapters' opening sentences get cut off because they're too long, but it's still possible to get the gist.
ASOIAF: A Game of Thrones chapters by first sentence
The night was rank with the smell of man.
He drank his way across the narrow sea.
She could hear the dead man coming up the steps.
The white wolf raced through a black wood, beneath a pale cliff as tall as the sky.
Are we there yet?
They departed Pentos by the Sunrise Gate, though [character] never glimpsed the sunrise.
[Character] read the letter over until the words began to blur and run together.
He woke alone, and found the litter halted.
Lightning split the northern sky, etching the black tower of the Night Lamp against the blue-white sky.
They brought forth the King-Beyond-the-Wall with his hands bound by hempen rope and a noose around his neck.
“What is it?” she cried, as Irri shook her gently by the shoulder.
The rat squealed as he bit into it, squirming wildly in his hands, frantic to escape.
Something about the way the raven screamed sent a shiver running up [character]’s spine.
For a long while he did not stir, but lay unmoving upon the heap of old sacks that served him for a bed, listening to the wind in the lines, to the lapping of the river at the hull
The Merry Midwife stole into White Harbor on the evening tide, her patched sail rippling with every gust of wind.
The dancers shimmered, their sleek shaved bodies covered with a fine sheen of oil.
“Careful of the rats, my lord.”
The Shy Maid moved through the fog like a blind man groping his way down an unfamiliar hall.
“His lordship will hear you now, smuggler.”
They gave him a horse and a banner, a soft woolen doublet and a warm fur cloak, and set him loose.
His candle had guttered out in a pool of wax, but morning light was shining through the shutters of his window.
He dreamt of his lord father and the Shrouded Lord.
Galazza Galare arrived at the Great Pyramid attended by a dozen White Graces, girls of noble birth who were still too young to have served their year in the temple’s pleasure gar
It should not have taken this long, [character] told himself as he paced the deck of the Shy Maid.
The word passed through the camp like a hot wind.
[Character] was seated in Galbart Glover’s longhall drinking Galbart Glover’s wine when Galbart Glover’s maester brought the letter to her.
By the time they reached Volantis, the sky was purple to the west and black to the east, and the stars were coming out.
When he heard the order, Ser Alliser’s mouth twisted into a semblance of a smile, but his eyes remained as cold and hard as flint.
Even in the gloom of the Wolf’s Den, [character] could sense that something was awry this morning.
Each morning, from her western ramparts, the queen would count the sails on Slaver’s Bay.
It was never truly dark in [character]’s chambers.
He heard the girls first, barking as they raced for home.
The Selaesori Qhoran was seven days from Volantis when Penny finally emerged from her cabin, creeping up on deck like some timid woodland creature emerging from a long winter’s s
The moon was a crescent, thin and sharp as the blade of a knife.
The sun had broken through near midday, after seven days of dark skies and snow flurries.
The stench of the camp was so appalling it was all that [character] could do not to gag.
The hearth was caked with cold black ash, the room unheated but for candles.
“Let us look upon this head,” his prince commanded.
Val waited by the gate in the predawn cold, wrapped up in a bearskin cloak so large it might well have fit Sam.
The sow had a sweeter temper than some horses he had ridden.
The first flakes came drifting down as the sun was setting in the west.
The king’s host departed Deepwood Motte by the light of a golden dawn, uncoiling from behind the log palisades like a long, steel serpent emerging from its nest.
The candle was almost gone.
Queen Selyse descended upon Castle Black with her daughter and her daughter’s fool, her serving girls and lady companions, and a retinue of knights, sworn swords, and men-at-arms
Her nights were lit by distant stars and the shimmer of moonlight on snow, but every dawn she woke to darkness.
The dead man was found at the base of the inner wall, with his neck broken and only his left leg showing above the snow that had buried him during the night.
Raventree Hall was old.
“R’hllor,” sang Melisandre, her arms upraised against the falling snow, “you are the light in our eyes, the fire in our hearts, the heat in our loins.”
The hall rang to Yunkish laughter, Yunkish songs, Yunkish prayers.
Day stole upon them just as Stannis had: unseen.
The sky was a merciless blue, without a wisp of cloud in sight.
He was not a tall man, Tormund Giantsbane, but the gods had given him a broad chest and massive belly.
Each night seemed colder than the last.
“You were the queen’s man,” said Reznak mo Reznak.
Grief appeared alone at daybreak, her black sails stark against the pale pink skies of morning.
The healer entered the tent murmuring pleasantries, but one sniff of the foul air and a glance at Yezzan zo Qaggaz put an end to that.
That night he dreamt of wildlings howling from the woods, advancing to the moan of warhorns and the roll of drums.
“All kneel for His Magnificence Hizdahr zo Loraq, Fourteenth of That Noble Name, King of Meereen, Scion of Ghis, Octarch of the Old Empire, Master of the Skahazadhan, Consort to
The hour of ghosts was almost upon them when Ser Gerris Drinkwater returned to the pyramid to report that he had found Beans, Books, and Old Bill Bone in one of Meereen’s less sa
He sent the archers in first.
On the village green, the queen’s men built their pyre.
The sea was black and the moon was silver as the Iron Fleet swept down on the prey.
Eleven servants of the Many-Faced God gathered that night beneath the temple, more than she had ever seen together at one time.
On the last night of her imprisonment, the queen could not sleep.
The pile of parchments was formidably high.
A pale shadow and a dark, the two conspirators came together in the quiet of the armory on the Great Pyramid’s second level, amongst racks of spears, sheaves of quarrels, and wal
The night crept past on slow black feet.
“Let them die,” said Queen Selyse.
The Dornish prince was three days dying.
The hill was a stony island in a sea of green.
“I am no traitor,” the Knight of Griffin’s Roost declared.
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