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[eyeheartsansa]

Yet another take on Robert Jordan - he's such an easy target!

Chapter One: A New Thread In The Song

The Song of Ice and Fire sings, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, myth fades to fable, fable fades to fairytale, fairytales fade to stories from the village Wisdom, which in turn fade back into legend and then back into myth again.  But even myth is long forgotten when the Song that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose in the Fist of the First Men.   The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the singing of the Song of Ice and Fire. But it was a beginning.

Born below the ever cloud-capped peaks of the Fist of the First Men, the wind blew South, whipping through the snow laden pine needles of the Haunted Forest, just barely missing Castle Black, and then down it flailed into Winterfell, where it russled the cloak of Eddard Stark, who was preparing for an execution.  eddard's cloak was of the finest material suitable for a lord of his stature, but weathered by the icy wind.  It was dark brown and lined with fur.  The fur was white flecked with black, from a wolf he had slain while hunting with a knife he had procured from the smithy.  The knife he'd chosen was a simple knife with a very sharp blade.  The tunic beneath his cloak was of the same color, and bore three buttons.  The lowest button was left open, according to the fashion of Winterfell.  He rode past the houses in the village surrounding Winterfell.  He saw the tiles on the rooftop varied from house to house.  One of the buildings had red roof tile that glittered in the sunlight, while smoke poured from the chimney.

His wife Catlyn had scoffed at him that morning.  "How very like a typical wooley headed man, my husband is, off to one of his executions," she had said, sniffing and tugging her braid.  Men are all the same, thinking they can solve every problem by lopping their swords around, she thought, tugging her braid again and again.  Why can't they be rational and intelligent like women?  She sipped on her hot tea and reminisced some more about the folly of the opposite sex.  The tea warmed her to the bone, and the steam from the teacup rose into the cold air in graceful spirals.  Then she opened herself to Saidar, like a beautiful flower floating down a serene river of tranquility.  Just because it felt good, almost as good as kissing and cuddling with Ned.  Oh how she loved to kiss and cuddle with him, despite his wooley headedness.

OK, I can't do this anymore.. copying RJ is making my head hurt!

Edited by eyeheartsansa, 15 April 2012 - 12:08 AM.

[James Arryn]

Some of these are very good.

[eyeheartsansa]

she who sees beyond, on 20 April 2010 - 09:41 AM, said:

The Song of Ice and Fire is sung, and verses sound and fade, leaving echoes that become resonances. Resonance fades to vibration, and even vibration has long died out when the Verse that first sounded it comes back again. In one Verse, called the Third Verse by some, a Verse yet to come, a Verse long past, a wind rose around Flea Bottom. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the sounding of the Song of Ice and Fire. But it was a new theme.
The wind twisted around the buildings, brushing eroded walls and flapping ragged clothing. The houses were instable and dirty; a metaphore perhaps for those who inhabited them. Many looking upon the slum guesses that at it's heart, it had been both corrupted by lawlessness and greed. Coevally.


Ok, English is not my first language but upon finding this thread (looking for eragon bashing actually...) i decided to give it a go. I know the thread is already 3 month old, but i really liked it's topic and well I would enjoy more parodies.

The original is ch.1 tGS, by Jordan/Sanderson, I tried to stay true to the structure while changing just enough for it to be fun, hope you like it

Nice.. I had mine all typed up before I read yours.  I love having a go at RJ!

[James Arryn]

Imma try a quick one. See if you can guess who.

The curtain wall wrapped itself around Winterfell with arms that knew the bite of cold and reluctantly opened just enough to fit a gate and portculis built in sympathetic suspicion of the outside world. Beyond, the stones of the courtyard lined themselves up dutifully as any northerner, and advanced en masse towards the door of the keep proper, where Ned Stark was standing, a little older than the man who first knew war and treason, but still squared to what life was sending his way.

Today life sent a raven, and Ned Stark took it in as he did everything that happened by, with a solid jaw half peppered in grey, a strong frame still fit for battle, and two grey eyes that saw more than they showed.

And now they saw death coming, and on its heels a king.

Edited by James Arryn, 15 April 2012 - 12:06 AM.

[Vinterhed]

All quit at the wall.
by Erich Maria Remarque
Jon Snow together with his entusiastic student campanions Samwell, Robb etc. in a sudden patriotic mood decides to join the war against the barbaric wildlings who threaten their Westerosi Vatherland. They first suffer through the boring and brutal disciplin of the Knights watch under their asshole nco Alliser Thorne. When they are actually sent to the wall to see their first action against the wildlings, they realize that there are not only one wall, but actually two, one in the hands of the Knights watch, one in the hand of the wildlings. Hour after hour, day after day, week after week, month after month they suffer from the horrors of of being exposed to trebuchet fire. Once in a while the bombardments stop for shorter raids or offensives from the wildlings or the Westerosi. One by one Jon sees his young comerades perish, dead or invalized, except the coward Sam who gets caght by the yellow cloaks as an desserter back at kings Landing and gets fusilated with crossbows.
Not only do they have to fight their living enemys, even if they kill the wildlings, they reapear from the no-mans land together with their former living comrades of the nights watch, only to have to be killed again.
During one of his leaves back to Winterfell he visits the mother of one of his dead comrades and tries to easen her hard by telling her a lie about how her son died:-Robb did not turn into a wight that had to be burned, it is a lie, he died by getting a trebuchett stone in to his head, that is why the body in the coffin has a direwolfs head attached.
During another leave to Kings Landing jon sees how shady people like Little Von finger and Tyrion Von und zu Lannister are making fortunes out of the war while the people are starving.
Snow and his comerades serves for a shorter period at a quiter part of the wall that has been built over newly occupied wildling territory. They meet some local wldling girls, amongst them Ygritte. Jon falls in love with her, but loses interest and starts to hate her when he realize that she is just in for the money.
At the end of the novell only Jon is left amongst his former comerades, several who he has later met as wights. The defence of Westeros is crumbling and and a truce is about to be negociated.
In the last chapter, is mentioned of a wight who killed a few soldiers of the Nights watch before he was burned. The wight was identified by his burners as  formers nights watch private by the name of Snow.
The daily report to the lord comander states, "All quiet at the wall".

Edited by Vinterhed, 15 April 2012 - 05:08 AM.

[Vinterhed]

Westerosi Psycho
by Bret Easton Ellis
Ramsay Bolton is a successfull businessman in Kings Landing. Together with his business buddies Gregor Clegane, Walder frey, Tyrion Lannister, Illyrio Mopatis etc. his life spins around all forms of short term trading, expensive call girls delivered by Little Finger, poppy milk, expensive resturants etc.
Ramsay has a darker secret that's even worse then just being a greedy businnesman. He is a sadist, a torturer and a serial killer. Having knowledge and access to the many hidden and secret passageways in Kings Landing makes it possible for him to commit hideous crimes. He envys one of his greatest rivals, another sucessfull businessman by the name of Rob Stark, who seem to have supernatural powers when dealing with humans and animals alike.
Ramsay, mays just have an idea how remove both Robb and aquiring his supernatural powers in one blow...

[Vinterhed]

The direwolf never dies.
By Ian Fleming

The man put a side his instrument:-I believe I am the man your looking for, my name is Mance Rayder, and you are?
-Snow, Jon Snow.
-Can I offer you a drink, what do you prefer?
-Summer Island wine, shaken not sterred.
-The Lord of bones says that you killed one of my men and one of your own.
-That is correct.
-I remember when I killed my first man, seems aeons ago. I was young and inexperienced, it was in combat, adrealine was rushing high, my was I sceared. Mance said, his sword hand slowly grasping his hilt. -It is the first one who is hard, the second is easier, I don't even recall my third...
In one quick movement Jons sword had been drawn hacked and between Mance shoulder and throat, Mance had only drawn his sword halway by then. Blood was squirting on the tent wall.
-The third was by far the easiest, and memorable! Jon Snow finished the sentence for Mance. -Now please be a good wildling and stay dead, don't go a whight on me old boy.
As Snow exited the tent he ripped his face of. The guards entered the tent led by the Lord of Bones, and shouts and turmoil started. Snow had only walked twenty yards when Ygritte comming galoping on her black summer island stallion, on of the finest and most expensive that could be attained in the known world, and suddenly stopped. -Hello handsome, looking for a ride?
-Perhapps. Replied Snow and jumped up behind her. -I would appreciate if you could hurry up somewhat I have a ship for Bravoos to catch.
Ygritte pressed her spurs and the stalltion galopped at an amazing speed. Arrows and spears flying over their heads. Just as the Lord of bones exited the tent, the vase filled with wild fire exploaded, instantly killing everyone inside and setting the lord himself ablaze.
-I think that the wildlings just have been converted to worshiping Rhollor. Snow said. I am sure M will be glad to hear that.
-You know nothing Jon, Melisandre always want's new souls no mather how many you give her.
-Oh the things I don't do for Braavos. Replied Snow.
-Anyways, I have fullfilled the prophessy now, I have given the dragon three heads.
Suddenly they felt the temperature droping. They started to shiver.
-It seems like the wights and the white walkers haven't forgotten about us. Ygritte said.
-Well. that's why you must allways have a plan B my dear Ygritte.
Jon started tying a rope around their bodies.
-Whats are you doing? Ygritte asked confused?
Jon tied the end of the rope to a peace of meat and held it high abow his head. Within seconds it was snatched away by a gigantic eagle.
-I allways keep a reserve ticked ready i want a really quick ride. Jon said. meanwhile it was getting colder and the wights were coming at them, faster and faster, followed closly behind by the others. The eagle had reached some hundred yards into the sky with the meat and the rope, it was struggling with the weight of the several hundred yards long rope. Suddendly a big black smoking shadow  came dropping out of the sun and just swallowed the bird.
-No it cant be! Yelled Ygritte.
-Why not, I allways liked a fast ride. Replied Snow. The rope jerked, Jon and Ygritte were ripped of the back of the horse just as the wights put their hands and teeths in to its flesh. Tied to the end of the rope, they rose hundreds and yets hundred of yards above ground, Drogon pulling the rope closer to himself, yard by yard.
-Oh but mr Snow. Said Ygritte.
-Call me Jon. We have four hours before we reach Bravoos.

Edited by Vinterhed, 15 April 2012 - 07:11 AM.