Pages

Thursday, September 13, 2012

A Game of Kandrith: A Mash-up of Game of Thrones and Gate to Kandrith



If you read fantasy at all, I’m sure you’ve heard of Game of Thrones, George R.R. Martin’s massively popular (and massive) series.  (BTW, I love Game of Thrones.  Both books and TV series are awesome.  Just sayin’.) 
Now, as it so happens, I have a fantasy novel out myself called Gate to Kandrith.  Do I write like George R.R. Martin?  No, I do not.  I write like myself. J  However, the similarity of the titles Game, Gate, made me wonder what it would sound like if you mashed the two together.


So, here goes:


A GAME OF KANDRITH


The morning had dawned clear and cold, with a crispness that hinted at the end of summer.  Almost time.

They set forth at daybreak to see a man beheaded, twenty in all. Sara’s stomach compressed into a hard knot as the tall, cadaverous high priest of Nir, the God of War, rode among them.  This was the first time he had been deemed old enough to go into the banquet hall with his lord father and his brothers to see the king’s justice done.

Seeking reassurance, Sara touched the crossbow she’d secretly had mounted to the underside of the head table in the ninth year of summer, and the seventh of Bran’s life.  Hidden by a blue tablecloth, outside a small holdfast in the hills, her fingers found the crossbow bolt she’d loaded, the cord she’d cranked back still taut, ready to fire at the man she thought was a wildling, his sword sworn to Mance Raydar, the King–beyond-the-Wall, as soon as she gave a hard pull on the lever.


Here’s the true beginning to Gate to Kandrith:


Almost time.

Sara’s stomach compressed into a hard knot as the tall, cadaverous high priest of Nir, the God of War, strode into the banquet hall.

Seeking reassurance, Sara touched the crossbow she’d secretly had mounted to the underside of the head table.  Hidden by a blue tablecloth, her fingers found the crossbow bolt she’d loaded, the cord she’d cranked back still taut, ready to fire as soon as she gave a hard pull on the lever.




And, for those few souls who don’t have their own copy, here is the real opening of Game of Thrones:

The morning had dawned clear and cold, with a crispness that hinted at the end of summer.  They set forth at daybreak to see a man beheaded, twenty in all, and Bran rode among them, nervous with excitement.  This was the first time he had been deemed old enough to go with his lord father and his brothers to see the king’s justice done.  It was the ninth year of summer, and the seventh of Bran’s life. 
The man had been taken outside a small holdfast in the hills.  Robb thought he was a wildling, his sword sworn to Mance Raydar, the King-Beyond-the-Wall.
Anyone else have a fun mash-up they've thought of?  Post it below.

No comments:

Post a Comment