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ASOIAF: A Storm of Swords chapters by first sentence
A Song of Ice and Fire
Can you pick the POV character for each chapter of A Storm of Swords, given its first sentence?
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How to Play
Click the green button to start and click the correct answers below
SPOILER WARNING for Book III. A few chapters' opening sentences get cut off because they're too long, but it's still possible to get the gist.
ASOIAF: A Feast for Crows chapters by first sentence
The day was grey and bitter cold, and the dogs would not take the scent.
An east wind blew through his tangled hair, as soft and fragrant as Cersei’s fingers.
Ser Desmond Grell had served House Tully all his life.
The sky was as black as the walls of Harrenhal behind them, and the rain fell soft and steady, muffling the sound of their horses’ hooves and running down their faces.
He woke to the creak of old iron hinges.
He watched the sail grow for a long time, trying to decide whether he would sooner live or die.
The invitation seemed innocent enough, but every time [character] read it her tummy tightened into a knot.
The world was grey darkness, smelling of pine and moss and cold.
Across the still blue water came the slow steady beat of drums and the soft swish of oars from the galleys.
The ridge slanted sharply from the earth, a long fold of stone and soil shaped like a claw.
When he came up on deck, the long point of Driftmark was dwindling behind them while Dragonstone rose from the sea ahead.
[Character] was the first to spy the inn.
The eunuch was humming tunelessly to himself as he came through the door, dressed in flowing robes of peach colored silk and smelling of lemons.
She was grubbing for vegetables in a dead man’s garden when she heard the singing.
Robb, she knew, the moment she heard the kennels erupt.
“Big enough for you?”
“A new gown?” she said, as wary as she was astonished.
The rains came and went, but there was more grey sky than blue, and all the streams were running high.
Sobbing, [character] took another step.
Lord Tywin’s chain of hands made a golden glitter against the deep wine velvet of his tunic.
They carried the corpses in upon their shoulders and laid them beneath the dais.
Two days’ ride to either side of the kingsroad, they passed through a wide swath of destruction, miles of blackened fields and orchards where the trunks of dead trees jutted into
The small square keep was half a ruin, and so too the great grey knight who lived there.
In the center of the Plaza of Pride stood a red brick fountain whose waters smelled of brimstone, and in the center of the fountain a monstrous harpy made of hammered bronze.
No roads ran through the twisted mountain valleys where they walked now.
The cell was warmer than any cell had a right to be.
The last night fell black and moonless, but for once the sky was clear.
On the morning her new gown was to be ready, the serving maid filled [character]’s tub with steaming hot water and scrubbed her head to toe until she glowed pink.
Stoney Sept was the biggest town [character] had seen since King’s Landing, and Harwin said her father had won a famous battle here.
Ghost was gone when the wildlings led their horses from the cave.
His hand burned.
Nothing remained beyond the King’s Gate but mud and ashes and bits of burned bone, yet already there were people living in the shadow of the city walls, and others selling fish f
Up in the loft a woman was giving birth noisily, while below a man lay dying by the fire.
Her eyes had grown accustomed to blackness.
Let the kings of winter have their cold crypt under the earth, [character] thought.
Lord Alester looked up sharply.
Harrenhal’s bathhouse was a dim, steamy, low-ceilinged room filled with great stone tubs.
A horse whickered impatiently behind him, from amidst the ranks of gold cloaks drawn up across the road.
The man on the roof was the first to die.
The tower stood upon an island, its twin reflected on the still blue waters.
The ground was littered with pine needles and blown leaves, a carpet of green and brown still damp from the recent rains.
Her Dothraki scouts had told her how it was, but [character] wanted to see for herself.
When [character] saw the shape of a great hill looming in the distance, golden in the afternoon sun, she knew it at once.
Though his fever lingered stubbornly, the stump was healing clean, and Qyburn said his arm was no longer in danger.
Robb bid farewell to his young queen thrice.
Whitetree, [character] thought.
When they reached the top of the ridge and saw the river, Sandor Clegane reined up hard and cursed.
The mare was blown, but [character] could not let up on her.
They heard the Green Fork before they saw it, an endless susurrus, like the growl of some great beast.
The outriders came on them an hour from the Green Fork, as the wayn was slogging down a muddy road.
The drums were pounding, pounding, pounding, and her head with them.
The feast tents were behind them now.
They supped alone, as they did so often.
For a moment it seemed as though the king had not heard.
They woke to the smoke of Mole’s Town burning.
“It is only another empty castle,” Meera Reed said as she gazed across the desolation of rubble, ruins, and weeds.
Meereen was as large as Astapor and Yunkai combined.
[Character] dressed himself in darkness, listening to his wife’s soft breathing from the bed they shared.
That was such a sweet dream, [character] thought drowsily.
The new crown that his father had given the Faith stood twice as tall as the one the mob had smashed, a glory of crystal and spun gold.
Far across the city, a bell began to toll.
The king is dead, they told him, never knowing that Joffrey was his son as well as his sovereign.
Their voices rose like cinders, swirling up into purple evening sky.
He dreamt he was back in Winterfell, limping past the stone kings on their thrones.
She could feel the hole inside her every morning when she woke.
“[Character],” Ser Kevan Lannister said wearily, “if you are indeed innocent of Joffrey’s death, you should have no difficulty proving it at trial.”
A white book sat on a white table in a white room.
The ladder to the forecastle was steep and splintery, so [character] accepted a hand up from Lothor Brune.
Day and night the axes rang.
When dawn broke, he found he could not face the thought of food.
[Character] broke her fast under the persimmon tree that grew in the terrace garden, watching her dragons chase each other about the apex of the Great Pyramid where the huge bronze
The king sat at the head of the table, a stack of cushions under his arse, signing each document as it was presented to him.
The wind was blowing wild from the east, so strong the heavy cage would rock whenever a gust got it in its teeth.
Outside the inn on a weathered gibbet, a woman’s bones were twisting and rattling at every gust of wind.
“He sucks harder than mine.”
[Character] prowled around Satin in a slow circle, sword in hand, forcing him to turn.
When he heard noises through the thick wooden door of his cell, [character] prepared to die.
The king was angry.
Iron Emmett was a long, lanky young ranger whose endurance, strength, and swordsmanship were the pride of Eastwatch.
She awoke all at once, every nerve atingle.
The road up to Oldstones went twice around the hill before reaching the summit.
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