Few Places In The Known World Are As Remote As Asshai, And Fewer Are As Forbidding. Travelers Tell Us

Few places in the known world are as remote as Asshai, and fewer are as forbidding. Travelers tell us that the city is built entirely of black stone: halls, hovels, temples, palaces, streets, walls, bazaars, all. Some say as well that the stone of Asshai has a greasy, unpleasant feel to it, that it seems to drink the light, dimming tapers and torches and hearth fires alike. The nights are very black in Asshai, all agree, and even the brightest days of summer are somehow grey and gloomy.

Redrawing the Conquerors❤️‍🔥

November 2020/2021

JON SNOW APPRECIATION MONTH 2022       ↳  Day 21: Men in Jon’s life → Qhorin Halfhand

“May the gods forgive me. Choose your men.” Qhorin Halfhand turned his head. His eyes met Jon’s, and held them for a long moment. “Very well. I choose Jon Snow.” Mormont blinked. “He is hardly more than a boy. And my steward besides. Not even a ranger.”

“Tollett can care for you as well, my lord.” Qhorin lifted his maimed, two-fingered hand. “The old gods are still strong beyond the Wall. The gods of the First Men… and the Starks.”

Mormont looked at Jon. “What is your will in this?”

“To go,” he said at once.

***

“Is your sword sharp, Jon Snow?” asked Qhorin Halfhand across the flickering fire. “My sword is Valyrian steel. The Old Bear gave it to me.”

Qhorin’s mouth tightened as he followed its flight with his eyes. “Here is as good a place as any to make a stand,” he declared. “The mouth of the cave shelters us from above, and they cannot get behind us without passing through the mountain. Is your sword sharp, Jon Snow?” “Yes,” he said.

***

Ghost’s muzzle was dripping red, but only the point of the bastard blade was stained, the last half inch. Jon pulled the direwolf away and knelt with one arm around him. The light was already fading in Qhorin’s eyes. “…sharp,” he said, lifting his maimed fingers. Then his hand fell, and he was gone. He knew, he thought numbly. He knew what they would ask of me. He thought of Samwell Tarly then, of Grenn and Dolorous Edd, of Pyp and Toad back at Castle Black. Had he lost them all, as he had lost Bran and Rickon and Robb? Who was he now? What was he?

The night is dark and full of terrors.

HOUSE TARGARYEN by Denis Maznev

The three "little" heads of the dragon

Visenya with dark sister, Rhaenys playing with some made-up musical instrument, and Aegon admiring beside her.

I wanted to do this in watercolors but got carried away with my color pencils. I might try this again.