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I am so on-board with the Asher-hype. I hope I get to play him as an ersatz Hound, a bitter killer driven by spite, hate and vengeance. Either that or as a swaggery, rough as a badger's arse sellsword like Bronn. I played Ethan as Hardbastard McBlusterguts, because godsdammit power never takes a step back and we'll never fold to those Whitehill bastards and by all the gods, both old and new, the man who passes the sentence shall swing the sword! Myra I played as a frightened and naive appeaser who's just learning the game, putting all my chips on the coalboy and Margaery. Whatever the less vapid than Jon Snow but only just character was called, well I played it heroic - "Aye, you'll have the loving sword" - and doled out all the mercy I could and saved my whiny mate when the Freys showed the world the inner cuntiness that lay hiding beneath their thin outer crust of wankery. No-one but Uncle Milquetoast knows about the north grove, because the maester was a creepy douche. Ser Royland put me in mind of the Mannis, so I gave the friendship bracelet to him and did all I could to gain his respect. Lord Whitehill got thoroughly loving unmanned in my court, Ramsey waited at the gate like a caged animal while I taunted him. My choices didn't matter? We haven't seen even half the consequences yet, but I know one thing: It was bloody satisfying to talk to rotten bastards like they were rotten bastards, dole out justice in true northern fashion and die a noble death protecting my twin from the predations of a sneering rapist. "Ethan the Brave?" Ethan the Metal-as-gently caress. And big bro Asher's coming, axe a-swingin', cos that boy was more man than Victarion Greyjoy, cut down in his gods-damned prime before he could grow into a hard-but-fair, finely-tuned killing machine, warrior-poet motherfucker with balls the size of space-hoppers.  So yeah, I liked the game and I believe the choices mattered in how I got to frame the story. It invested me in the characters, because whatever little agency they had allowed me to contextualise the bad poo poo that inevitably will happen to them.
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Jan 5, 2015 09:17
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You can bottle out of bottling a oval office. And by oval office I mean person, who may be your best friend or worst enemy, partly depending on how far north you are.
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Feb 17, 2015 04:30
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It was really satisfying during the cripple beatdown segment to just get up again and again with a poo poo-eating grin and go "please sir, can I have some more?" I'm sure it'll only compound my troubles, but it's Game of Thrones so we're screwed anyway. Might as well go down with a smile on my face. I was also almost disappointed when Asher doesn't actually lose an eye or a hand to the merc captain but the punchline to that bit made me laugh all the same. This game is so it's almost at Walking Dead season 1 levels. Hopefully I'll have even more chances of bloody-minded self-mutilation before this sorry saga's through. We'll have our vengeance even if Roderick has to hop about with one arm and one leg and mouth obscenities from a tongueless mouth.
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Mar 27, 2015 00:27
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