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Click here to see what author Naomi Novik thinks will happen
A Dragon And A Swordsman Walk Into A Bar–
“Only,” Temeraire said, “he is so very small.” He peered across the field at the lone man swinging around his sword. He did move it quite quickly, and he had a splendid hand made all out of gold, which flashed appealingly in the sunlight, but–well.
“I don’t see why you are complaining,” Iskierka said. “The last one was small, too.”
“But she was a sorceress,” Temeraire protested.
“Who tried to turn you into a cat,” Iskierka said. “Anyway, you had better win, because I don’t see Granby or Laurence anywhere here, either, and we shan’t be able to go on looking for them unless you do.”
“Well, of course I am going to win,” Temeraire said, but privately he could not help feeling that it was not very sporting. “But perhaps we might–fight in some other fashion,” he suggested, “which would be more fair?”
There was an odd sort of shimmer in the air around them and above the field, after he had spoken, and Iskierka jetted curls of steam from her spikes in disapproval. “Now you have gone and done it,” she said. “I ought to just have set him on fire; you know you cannot just go saying things in this place.”
“I do not mind in the least,” Temeraire said defiantly, because he was sure he would win a fair fight anyway; although privately he was forced to admit, in justice, that peculiar things did seem to happen in here.
The countryside where they were looked perfectly ordinary: rolling hills, streams, and there was always sure to be a cow or a sheep handy if one happened to grow hungry; only even if one flew for ages one did not seem to come across any towns, or farms, or anything outside these battles. And when the battles did begin, everything behaved even more strangely.
There had been quite an exciting moment in the first round, when that fellow Haplo had begun drawing those magical runes in mid-air. Temeraire would have liked to discuss them with him and to learn how to write them himself; if, that is, Haplo had not been trying to kill him with them at the time.
Temeraire had suffered a few anxious moments of dodging attacks–Iskierka’s commentary had not been in the least helpful–and things had seemed likely to go badly. But a lake had appeared quite out of nowhere at the start of the battle, which had given Temeraire the notion of driving the water over Haplo, to wash away his runes. The effect had been all one could have wished for, as evidently a certain sort of salt water drained Haplo’s magic, and had made the rest of the battle easy; so it seemed that whoever had organised these battles meant there to always be some chance, for either party.
This was evidently the case now as well: a mysterious fog had begun to spread across the battlefield.
“So I might as well have said it,” Temeraire added, in his defense, “for I am sure if I had just decided to leap on this new enemy, unfairly, it would turn out that his sword is poisoned, or there would be a trap of some sort, and it would all turn out badly.”
“Nonsense,” Iskierka said. “You might have just dropped a rock upon him; and I should like to see him make a trap big enough for you. Whatever is going on there?”
The fog had cleared away, and Temeraire flattened his ruff against his neck as he recognized the woman standing in the center of the field, by the white lock against her dark hair, and Haplo beside her. “Surely I needn’t fight you again,” he protested. He had not at all approved of being turned into a kitten, however briefly–even if it had turned out that a twenty-ton dragon transmogrified into a kitten still weighed twenty tons, and Polgara had a little carelessly been standing under him while casting her spell.
“No, of course not,” Polgara said crisply, turning to him. “Someone has to work out a level playing field for your next round, however, and determine a winner; so unless you have someone better in mind, we’ve been appointed.”
“But that is scarcely reasonable, when you have just finished being my enemies!” Temeraire protested.
“Certainly it is,” Polgara said. “We will be making the arrangements with Ser Lannister’s prior opponents.”
“It’s Lady Polgara, isn’t it?” a young woman with rather bushy hair asked, approaching from the other end of the field. “I had rather a question about the thaumaturgic theory behind the Will and the Word, could I ask you–”
“Perhaps after the battle, Hermione, dear,” Polgara said. “Now, then: does anyone have a suggestion for how Ser Lannister and Temeraire can meet on even ground?”
“I’ll take a moderately-sized army, and my choice of terrain?” Lannister said, joining the discussion. He cast a wary eye up at Temeraire. “Make that a large army.”
“I don’t see why you should have an army, when Temeraire hasn’t his crew,” Iskierka returned.
“The battle must be individual,” Polgara said.
“We might arm Lannister with magic weapons,” Haplo suggested.
“Oh!” Hermione said, enthusiastically, “and the Flame-Freezing Charm would keep fire from hurting him–”
“That shan’t be useful in the least; I don’t breathe fire,” Temeraire protested. “Ow!” He looked at Iskierka reproachfully; she had nipped him.
“It does not seem in the least fair to me that this person should get all sorts of help,” Iskierka said. “That is only cheating to help him, so it won’t be as though he were beating Temeraire at all.”
“He’s a damned dragon!” Lannister said. “How else do you expect me to face him?”
There was a brief moment of hideous, unfathomable silence–a shuddering void of horror that was not speech nor the absence of speech but its negation. Pitiless and incomprehensible, it yet spawned a kind of meaning which crept slithering like some unnatural gasping nameless thing formed of primordial elements into the back of the mind.
“Well, I suppose that would work,” Hermione said, after Cthulhu had finished speaking.
“I don’t understand,” Temeraire said, doubtfully. “What is ‘reality television’?”
#
“We have to be able to form an educated opinion,” Polgara said.
“But Gong Su isn’t here to cook for me,” Temeraire protested. “Also, the Quickfire Challenges would be very unfair, as anyone could see it must take longer to make a dish in my size.” He raised his objections a little regretfully; he had quite enjoyed the episodes which Hermione had shown them as examples, although he would have liked to be able to taste the food, and not merely watch it being prepared.
“It seems to me we might devise reasonable Roadblocks,” Haplo suggested. “Where any particular challenge did not suit either opponent, we might use Detours to–”
“I am not racing a pair of dragons around the world,” Lannister said flatly.
There was a pause, which slowly filled with a creeping, hideous awareness, as a basin gradually filling with some corrupted essence from an unseen subterranean source.
Everyone blanched and said, “No!” in unison.
Cthulhu sulked. He was extremely fond of Dancing With The Stars.
“I suppose we had better just go straight for the big one,” Hermione said.
#
Temeraire peered down at the small black pole. “And I sing into THIS?” he said, lowering his head towards it, and pulled his head back startled as his voice went abruptly very loud.
“Yes, exactly,” Hermione said encouragingly, from behind the judges’ table, with her ears covered. “Only not so close, I don’t think.”
“This is blazingly idiotic,” Lannister said. “What the hell do I know about singing?”
“If you prefer, dear, we can go back to the one-on-one fight,” Polgara said, in a deceptively calm tone.
Lannister glared at her and muttered, “Witch,” under his breath.
Abruptly, the lights dimmed, another extremely bright one shone directly into Temeraire’s eyes, and as he winced away a voice behind him said, “Tonight, America, your finalists face their toughest challenge yet. They’ve made it through the first two rounds, all the way to the quarterfinals. But which one will continue on to the next round? The choice is yours. This… is [TRADEMARK CENSORED].”
There was a great deal of very loud jangling music and even more of the flashing lights, all of which abruptly cut off as Polgara raised a hand and said, “Quiet.” She lowered it again. “Why don’t you just go ahead and sing something, dear,” she said to Temeraire.
“Oh,” Temeraire said, “what ought I sing?” He was quite sure that Spanish Ladies would not do; Laurence had often chided the men for singing it where a lady should hear, but perhaps Roast Beef of Old England, which, he brightened as he realized, would be a little like the other show about cooking, and so Polgara was sure to like it–
The host looked at him. “Do you want our ratings to tank? Let’s try for something from this century.”
“But that is from this century,” Temeraire protested, but evidently the century had been altered, which did not seem fair; he was offered a list instead, of wholly unfamiliar songs, and rather doubtfully selected one after listening to it through; it seemed quite pretty.
“Just watch the Teleprompter,” the host said.
“Did you ever know that you’re my hero,” Temeraire sang, peering at the little screen. “And everything I would like to be–”
He had never tried much singing before–when he had traveled at sea, the men on board did not very well like it if he joined in, as he could not much help but be louder; and one could not very conveniently sing while flying. He was pleased to find it not very difficult, although he did accidentally break into a small–quite a small–roar, in the last chorus, the bit about flying higher than an eagle.
His roar caused the brightly lit sign in the back of the stage to shatter; and also several of the lamps shining down upon him exploded into sparks, and the judges were all forced to dive beneath the desk while the fire was put out; but Temeraire did not see that anyone could blame him for that. Anyway, once order was restored, he finished the song with, he felt, a flourish, and sat back expectantly for the results.
“Pitchy,” Haplo said.
“It was not!” Temeraire said indignantly.
“That’s what one says, as I understand it.” Haplo shrugged. “I’m a wizard, not a musician.”
Temeraire flattened back his ruff and looked at Polgara. “It’s a charming song,” she said, calmly. “And you sang it very nicely.”
“That,” Temeraire said, injured, “is just the sort of thing one would say if one only meant to be polite, and didn’t like it at all; but I cannot see that you have anything to complain of, and I sang it much better than only nicely, I am sure.”
“We’re the judges, dear, you oughtn’t argue with us,” Polgara said, which Temeraire did not understand at all, when they were plainly wrong.
Cthulhu then conveyed his own boundless and infinite approval of the performance, and also somehow the impression that Temeraire’s soul would be exceptionally delicious, which was at once gratifying and unpleasant; then Hermione said, flatly, “Well, it’s a bit schmaltzy, isn’t it? Not what anyone would like to hear on pop radio these days–”
“Radio?” Temeraire said.
“It’s not current, is all I’m saying,” Hermione said. “You could at least have done the Weird Sisters or U2 or something.”
Temeraire rather despondantly retired to the side–there was no room backstage for a dragon–and watched Lannister take his turn. And brightened rapidly, as it turned out that Jaime Lannister, while he might be a splendid swordsman, could not sing in the slightest. He had chosen a very peculiar song, all about this girl named Lola, and a pub of some sort, called the Copacabana. Temeraire was rather envious of the elaborate clothing which Lannister had been given to wear, however–no one had offered him anything like a fringe, or sparkling beads.
Lannister also seemed to realize things were not going well, because he stopped short of the end and merely threw up his arms, exasperated, and said, “There, that’s enough; damn you all, I have my dignity.” He looked down at his clothing. “What’s left of it.”
“Pitchy,” Haplo said again, this time without so much as looking up from the tome he had conjured to read.
Polgara had a rather peculiar expression on her face, as though she were tasting something not very pleasant. “I’ve heard better from Garion when he was drunk,” she said.
Cthulhu applauded perhaps even more enthusiastically for Lannister, but Hermione made up for that quite thoroughly by saying, “That was utterly atrocious. It was a bit like–a cat being murdered slowly, if we were the cat.”
“So I have won!” Temeraire said, jubilantly, only to be interrupted by the host reappearing like a jack-in-the-box on the stage and saying, “And now it’s up to you, America! Which contestant will make it through to the next rounds? The lines are open now!”
Temeraire deflated, and settled in to wait.
#
The voting seemed to be taking a very long time. “Mayn’t we just declare me the winner yet?” Temeraire said, nudging Hermione a little.
“Er, well,” Hermione said. She was using a sort of magical box called a laptop. “According to this website, Lannister’s taken an early lead, I’m afraid.”
“What?” Temeraire said, appalled.
Hermione looked rather furtively over her shoulder, at where Lannister was standing with a tall, beautiful woman who looked very like him, speaking to her in low voices. “He’s really good-looking?”
“But what has that to do with singing?” Temeraire said. “Surely no one of sense could vote for such a dreadful performance.”
“Rather a lot of the voters are tweens?” Hermione said.
Temeraire crept away, rather staggered, and told Iskierka the dreadful news. She snorted and sat up. “This is the outside of enough; we will never find Granby and Laurence like this,” she said, and stalked over to speak with Hermione.
Temeraire did not see what there was to be done; the contest itself had ended, and they could not change anything about it, nor–what Temeraire most keenly felt unfair–did it seem as though there were a change which would have made any difference, if Lannister were only winning because he were handsome. It was not, Temeraire thought, injured, as though he were not himself generally held a handsome dragon, which one might have thought would count for something, in such a case–but perhaps dragons did not vote in this contest.
Shortly they were summoned back to the stage, to hear the verdict: the cheerful, impersonal voice announced brightly, “The voters have spoken, and the winner is–”
Temeraire sighed.
“–Temeraire!”
There were a great many small bits of paper suddenly falling all over him, wedging inconveniently into his harness; Temeraire snorted and shook his head, rather taken aback.
“Pray don’t think I am in the least ungrateful,” he said to Hermione, when he had managed to clear enough of them away, “but I thought Lannister was far out in front?”
“That was before I had her post the information that he mates with his sister to those people in the box, the ones at TMZ,” Iskierka put in smugly, and crisped away a swath of the little bits of paper with a small gout of flame.
The practice did not seem very sensible, as it was sure to cause problems with the eggs, but Temeraire did not entirely see what it had to do with singing, either, so he could not help but feel this equally improper grounds for victory, particularly as it had all been Iskierka’s doing. He wrestled with his conscience–certainly he had to go on and find Laurence, that was of all things the most necessary. But he could not help thinking–when he should find Laurence, and Laurence should ask how Temeraire had found him, that it would be quite awkward if he were to have to confess victory by such means.
“No; I cannot allow it to do,” Temeraire said, reluctantly. “I shall offer him a rematch: anyway I would quite like to try that other song, that one about one’s heart going on–” He turned decisively to speak to Lannister, and startled to hear a rather awkward wet thump.
“Oh–oh, no,” Temeraire said distressed, pulling away his hind leg and looking down. Lannister was–rather flattened. “Whyever was he standing just there, where I could not see–” Then Temeraire looked a little more closely: Lannister’s sword had been in his hand, and there was a stain of faintly glowing, greenish ichor upon the blade.
Temeraire looked reproachfully at Cthulhu, who conveyed a shrug like the rough slouch of some inescapably monstrous and amorphous beast, its flesh rippling with horrors. He approved of evil, after all.
“It is just as well,” Iskierka said. “Now, if you are quite done being absurd, perhaps we can move on? I do not like to think what may have happened to Granby in all this time.”
How we think the fight will go
The crowds are quiet when the knight and the dragon enter the ring, whether because of the early hour or the gravity of the situation, it would be hard to say. Temeraire insisted that they begin at dawn, and Jaime, having no love for rising early but neither any desire to prolong the matter, agreed.
He has come in light armor, studded along the left side with throwing daggers–the best he can do for ranged combat without a bow. The crowd adores him. When he strides into the center of the arena, a murmur ripples through the stands, like a woman’s sigh. He expects this will be a challenging match; Temeraire has defeated two powerful sorcerers so far. Jaime eyes the dragon from across the field, a black, gleaming mountain. The Kingslayer thinks of his previous opponent and shudders.
The buzzer has yet to sound, but Temeraire seems to be preparing something–Is that allowed? Jaime wonders. The sunrise glints off of an iron kettle, as a large bowl is poured for the dragon, and a tray prepared with… a teapot?
The tray with the steaming cup is carried across to him by one of the men. Jaime eyes it and doesn’t drink. Do they take him for a fool?
After a moment, the dragon–speaks. It has startlingly crisp diction. “Only I thought,” the dragon says, with a doubtful air, “that it would be more civilized if we drank tea together, first?” He pauses, seemingly uncomfortable now. “I thought, you know, from one warrior to another…”
Jaime doesn’t move. The silence stretches awkwardly. Temeraire lets out a long sigh. “Very well, then,” he says, and just as the buzzer resounds over the field, the dragon unfolds his wings and rises up over Jaime.
But Jaime is already running, trying to circle around the dragon to get the rising sun at his back. He feels air rush past him as the low-flying beast swipes at him with a claw and drops to the ground, rolling under the bite he knew was coming–the claw was a feint. The beast would have made an excellent swordsman, he thinks, and flings one of his daggers up into the dragon’s mouth as he finishes his roll. He is gratified to hear an anguished roar behind him and jumps up, grateful for the thousandth time that he listened to his brother’s advice to forego the plate armor. He draws his sword as he stands, feeling the heat of dawn on his back.
Temeraire has retreated to the other side of the field. There are no rocks for him to throw, Jaime notes, nor trees for him to uproot. Bias on the part of the tournament managers? He waits to see what the dragon will do. He knows about the divine wind; he has a plan.
Sure enough, the dragon is hovering in midair, seemingly filling his lungs to bursting, and Jaime strikes, running toward the behemoth to slice open his inflated belly. His way is clear. He smiles, already feeling the warm glow of the crowd’s adulation–
And then the sword strikes something hard amongst the scales, rebounding with all the force of Jaime’s initial blow, knocking him back. There is an enormous and sudden weight on him: Temeraire has put his hind leg down over his body.
“Of course, a member of His Majesty’s Aerial Corps always keeps his tack in good order,” Temeraire says. Jaime has just enough time to see the dark chain links protecting the dragon’s belly like a coat of mail before the dragon crushes away his life.
Predicted Winner: Temeraire
( Temeraire is a character from Naomi Novik’s Temeraire series; Jaime Lannister is a character from George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire series.)
Watch the video recap for the Round 2 matches featuring these characters!
Jaime shouldn’t be here but characters from LOTR, Harry Potter, Drizz’t, and Dragonlance, Narnia, and Lovecraft should?
If this contest is at all interested in representing definitive and popular works in the sci-fi and fantasy genre, such as those I mentioned above, there is no reason for him *not* to be here. So Jaime has a lot of fans, thus far more than his challengers. Is that an unfair advantage? Absolutely not; it’s the basis for the whole contest. Of course the whole thing is going to come down to a popularity contest; these are characters from disparate novels/universes, and what applies in one does not necessarily apply in another.
Okay Tem is who I think would win in a straight up battle, (I mean he gets bombs dropped on him in the books and survives, bullets dug out after battles) But Jamie could win by guile. A conversation over philosophy, a nice dinner, specially prepared for his dragon guest…and a drop of poison specially formulated…and poor Lawrence, Tem is dead.
a bomb damages you using a shockwave.
wyldfire damages you by cooking your internal organs.
a dragons armor,even one that stands a bomb,is powerfull,but it wont stop the Liquid from being absorbed into it and scorch you to ashes.
it can melt her armor and burn her skin wile cooking her organs.
this thing BURNS IN WATER(and anything) and ABSORBED INTO METAL(and anything)!
it dosent use brut force…it goes around the defenses…
Just for the record, that was my fav “what I think will happen” segment yet. GRRM’s and Pat Rothfuss’s were great too, but that was hilarious…
Just the image of Jaime Lannister up there in a disco suit singing Copacabana…
“…at the copa! Copacabaaaaaaana! Music and passion were always the fashion…”
*Dies laughing and applauding enthusiastically*
Touché, though I already voted Jaime on popularity anyway.
just for the record. temeraire is a HE
It’s funny that people talk about the most logical outcome in these fights. Since when do epic battles in fantasy usually have the most logical outcome?
I’m voting for Jaime simply because that dragon should never have made it past Haplo. In reality, Jaime would probably get ruined. But phrases like, “In reality,” don’t hold up well when talking about a cage match between a mythical, magical flying lizard and a one-handed, incestuous swordsman.
“Just feel the need to note this: Jaime didn’t “kill” or technically defeat Cthulhu, according to GRRM’s write-up. He killed a few cultists and bitched out on the actual fight. Of course, we all knew the “God” characters were going to be eliminated pretty soon in the competition, but Jaime comes across as being no better than them: According to all of GRRM’s write-ups, he will forever be impossibly well-equipped and everyone, their grandmother, dog, and extra-dimensional companion will help him in his endeavors because he’s just “ZOMG! SO WELL CONNECTED!” GRRM’s a fanboy for his own work, and it makes me want to see Jaime put in his place that much more.”
*rolls eyes* Jaime’s equipment consists of his regular armor and sword, and his only assistance has come from his brother Tyrion. Exaggerate much?
when dealing with this fight one just has to remember that Termeraire can carry roughly 200 men on his back no problem. there is no way a ordinary human could beat that
Ways to win:
Jaime get’s hold of Laurence and threatens to kill him if Termeraire will not withdraw.
SPOILER: Jaime did pretty much the same thing with Edmure Tully when he wanted to take Riverrun in a rather unbloody way.
Ways to win:
Temeraire attires Jaime on a beach, and then he makes a tidal wave, and no wildfyre or valerian things could change the results
SPOILER:
A celestial dragon like him, on a book, sanks an entire 19th century fleet like this
and wyldfire crushed an entire armie.
dragons are flying castles.without men over them,and with a knoght armed wizely,they are defeated.
Actually, threatening to kill Edmure was one of the Frey’s ideas, and it didnt work. Jaime let Edmure go and threatened to fire his baby at him with a trebuchet.
Your point still stands though
Aw , temeraire got steamrolled by a stupid psycho.
This isn’t cool! Temeraire beat Napoleon, cured dragon cancer , freed the slaves and reformed dragon civil rights. How does he lose to a guy with a sword and 3 kids with his sister?
About the castles it depends… consider that this ‘castle’ not stupid, is fast and agile, enough to avoid cannon bullets and can disrupt almost everything with a sort of sound wave which is more a destructive force…
unless the wyldfire is a sort of homing kamehameha…
as I said, this is a matter of fanbase, not a characters’ strenght
So, if you really want to get technical about each characters ‘abilities’, ‘motivations’ and what not, then you have to go all the way, you can’t pick and choose. Therefore, there are certain characters in this tourney that just don’t make sense. Example: Cthulhu. What’s his motivation, to destroy the world, that’s what he does, he doesn’t do anything else (other than sleep). In fact Lovecraft goes into a lot of detail about the fact that destroying the world is what Cthulhu does, he doesn’t care about insignificant humans, at all. So why would he care about a tournament? If awakened for a human tournament, he would just destroy everything. So much for the tournament.
So lets say the tournament can put some kind of ‘rules’ around what Cthulhu can do (such as not destroying the world and actually caring about winning a human tournament…which actually seems laughable for Cthulhu), then in theory the tournament would have to put rules around all the characters, such as not allowing the ability for the Shrike to manipulate time, otherwise it could just zip to another time and not even bother with the tourney, or go and kill the people that crated the tourney (NOT that I am advocating that, it’s just an example). Not to mention that the Shrike is moving backwards through time, and I still don’t know what the hell that means. So if you change these abilities and motivations, how does it change the actual character? Would it change them at all? How do we know?
See what I’m saying?
So we can argue till we are blue in the face about one character beating another because of ‘this’ or because of ‘that’, but none of it holds water because it doesn’t really make sense. It’s kind of like taking random people (such as a heart surgeon, a writer, an NHL team, a baker, a plumber, and a college student) and telling them they are going to be in a wrestling tournament on the moon. I mean, that doesn’t even make sense, and how do you even begin to determine who could win? I mean, it’s on the moon for godsake..can they breath up there? Is there an arena, or are they just allowed to traipse all over the moon. Is the NHL team wearing their skates, if so, does that help or hinder them while wrestling…on the moon. What about the college student? Do they have access to a lot of books to be able to study up on the best way to wrestle on the moon or are they so drunk from the frat party last night that they don’t even show up?
So ultimately, it’s all silly. Vote for who you like. I like Jaime, he’s an interesting character, much more so than Cthulhu or the Shrike (I can’t say for Temeraire since I haven’t read those books). So, I vote for Jaime.
its better than kamehameha-it wont use force,it goes beneath the scales…
and a lance throu the brain kills a dragon.so does the fall from hights.even if he could bring armies down-i dont think he will kill one prepeard man.
Jaime has already killed a dragon. His brother is the world’s foremost expert on dragons. If Turin Turambar did it, then so can Jaime Lannister. Also, if Jaime wins this competition then GRRM will hurry up and finish A Dance With Dragons.
I’m a big SoIaF fan, but this Jaime worship has gone too far. First, there are a lot of ill-begotten facts surrounding Mr. Lannister… He’s clever? Not extremely, certainly not as clever as a political polymath like Temeraire, considering Ned Stark 1-2′ed him politically and would have ended his life had it not been for his scheming sister and Tyrion…
He’s already killed a dragon?… Are we reading the same books?! When did Jaime Lannister -ever- get near a live dragon? Bullcrap.
Wildfire could obliterate a dragon? First, people who say this don’t understand wildfire. It is basically greek fire, there is nothing magical at all about it – GRRM says so himself. Second, dragon skin is practically impermeable.
Jaime’s solution, as seen by the GRRM’s Cthulhu write up, would be to try to thrust a spear through the eye. Temeraire would destroy him before getting within striking distance.
he has no long ranged attacks-no fire,no victory.
I agree that Temeraire is simply too goody-two-shoes to win with Jaime. As far as I like the dragon, he’s too cute for his own good. Jaime, though, is cunning and ruthless, and won’t just go in the open fight before he invents something. And he won’t hesitate to fight dirty, while Temeraire trying to be all gentle-dragonly. Lack of experience is exactly what got him into trouble in the series – if it was not for his friends, he would not survive (and while it’s been done on purpose in the series, to expose the need of people and dragons supporting each other, it does not help in the match one-to-one, sorry, Naomi). Without Laurence, he’s bound to do something stupid.
For Jaime, so what the beast is huge – it makes it all easier to hit.
“Also, if Jaime wins this competition then GRRM will hurry up and finish A Dance With Dragons.
”
Has he said so? *runs off to find a thousand friends to vote for Jaime*
And in reply to wtf?’s statement, he has killed Aerys, the last Dragon king. I suspect a lot of us are punning on that. I know I did, in my write-up
BTW when does this round end? I seem to see the votes in the Ged match starting to drift again (paranoia, I guess)?
At around 100 meters in length, Temeraire’s claws are long range… He also has a -very- long range attack, creating a sonic boom strong enough to cause tornado winds and tusanmis…
What long range attacks does a 1-handed Jaime have? A thrown spear at the dragon’s eye? Problem #1, throwing a spear 50 meters, problem #2, throwing a spear 50 meters with any sort of accuracy, Problem #3, hundreds of mph winds = failed spear throw.
Easier to hit? A sword strike would be laughable damage.
Face it fanboys, Jaime would be dead.
Night night, Temeraire.
if you wanted realism, well, Cthulhu powns everyone before the fight even begins, in unspeakable, unimaginable ways that would drive us to madness to even think about. It is the whole POINT of Cthulhu.
You can’t have any realism in such contest, it’s like ages-long q-n: Who will win, whale or elephant?
In Pterry novel, jaime would win by 1 to million chance rule.
If this was in fiction the battle would have to serve some kind of purpose and as Jaime is a much more interesting character he would prevail through some means, not unlikely by something involving Will Laurence.
If we’re talking about a fight between fictional characters it makes no sense not putting it in a fictional scenario. In epic battles the most apparent outcome is not really the most common.
Thank you, “wtf?” for being one of the few people here who has any sense of logic left, thank you for exposing the stupidity of the fanboyism going on.
It’s a shame that the Suvudu cage matches have sunk this low. I was really excited, initially, at the idea of a tourneyment of Sci-Fi and Fantasy characters, and it’s disappointing that most of the people here have thrown logic out the window in favor of just fanboying.
Just wanted to throw out their, though I’m sure it has been mentioned, the Chain Mail would NOT, I repeat, WOULD NOT stop the Sword of Jaime Lannister. Valyrian Steel can cut through ANYTHING. It would shear right through the armor.
I still dont understand what the heck you mean… None of the write ups Martins done have seemed contrived. The first was simply a pointing out of how the Suvudu writers got it wrong, the second a small bit of fluff about Jaime and Tyrion deciding to go after the cultists raising Cthulu.
I honestly want to know what you mean by contrived.
You must not have very much sense or logic yourself there kiddo… The Suvudu people would have to be seriously mentally handicapped to have set up this sort of tourney with these particular people if they intended it to be voted on by actual power… that would be like setting up an NCAA tournament with the top 30 college teams, and then throwing in the Cavaliers and Lakers… clearly popularity was intended. I mean let’s be serious… they used crippled Jaime. And as those of you who have read the books know, left-handed Jaime is barely an average swordsman, who knows full out that guys he considers chumps would own him if they knew how bad he was with his left hand… If this tournament was all about ability, left-handed Jaime sure as hell wouldn’t be in it…
jaime lannister would smash 100 stupid 18th century dragons. He is just too cool to lose
Stupid 18th century dragons, yes… but he would be eaten by a single 19th clever dragon
Especially Temeraire, who is a celestial, the deadliest, fastest, strongest and most intelligent dragon specie of his world
As much as people seem to love Jaime, and as much as one of my friends will probably poke my eye out with a sharp stick, Temeraire really does have the advantage here. There’s really no way you can give Jaime the upper hand and sound remotely realistic. Just like kids were always afraid of the fat kid at lunch time, the giant dragon thumping down on you and rolling over is going to crush you to death. And that’s without any chocolate cake. A sword stick is a pinprick in the long run, to a dragon this size and caliber. Jaime is an M&M that will melt nicely in the big dragons mouth, and without any heavy plate armor to chew through! He wouldn’t hardly need a teeth cleaning after this, let alone a medic.
How many pinpricks does it take to get to the center of a dragon-pop? The world may never know.
Also, Naomi Novik has always captured my interest with her historical fiction. The scenario she creates was so unexpected, I laughed. Out loud. A lot.
The idea of a knight slaying a dragon is pretty much the heart of the beginnings of the fantasy genre. And if you can’t believe it can happen, if a dragon will *always* slay a knight in one-on-one battle, then I feel sorry for your lack of imagination.
Does that mean that a knight, whoever he is, ‘must’ slay a dragon, whoever or whatever he or she or it is?
If you can’t believe another way, then I feel sorry for your lack of imagination.
Knights beat small dragons in the stories, not huge ones. Huge ones have to be outwitted: that’s the rule.
1) Jaime is no knight. His good hand was cut off and he is a lousy fighter with the hand he has left.
2) It is a very, very big dragon
3) Instead of a convincing story, there is a cage (sorry, but although Casterly Rock Tea is a great story, it isn’t convincing. It requires the dragon to be almost suicidely stupid).
So I had to vote for Temeraire, on principle. It would be nice to know how Jaime did it.
I couldn’t agree more with archon. It’s downright dumb to say that you should use logic in a tournament where normal men is mixed with invincible world destroyers. A mix like that made it utterly impossible to go by their abilities and maintain any resemblance of value in the contest.
Again we need to go to the nature of epic battles and rarely do epic stories end with the most likely victor. The power of the characters ultimately lie in the writing of the authors and that makes it much more likely that a more interesting character will somehow survive.
Tyrion and his brother were studying the information scroll on Kvothe. “Not the opponent I was expecting for my dear brother.” thought Tyrion Lannister.
Varys had whispered in silently on cat feet. “Lord Tyrion I have addition information on Kvothe and on Jaime’s probable next opponent, Rand al’thior.”
“Counting our chickens Varys? What I’ve seen of this tourney is that the expected has not occured. If everything went to form my dear brother would be a gibbering mad man. That monstrous construct’s opponents would be mincemeat. You are right however, keep scouting ALL possible future opponents. Scout thoroughly this Rand fellow and the Dark Elf Drizzt.”
Tyrion turned to two very contrasting women beside him. One was a huge woman in armour. At a distance she would be mistaken for a man. “Brienne of Tarth, find out the fighting tactics of Rand and Drizzt.”
The other very young woman had beautiful auburn hair. She was Tyrion’s wife in name only. He had not set her aside, however, she was available as a resource in this Tourney. “So Sansa what do you know of Rand al’thior and Drizzt Do’Urden?”
“Drizzt Do’Urden if the Second Boy of his House and the only survivor of the Do’Urden line. He and his companions have rid their world of the evil artifact Crenishibon.” Sansa had said with a far away wistful look in her eyes. She stopped speaking.
“He reminds you of your father, Sansa?” Tyrion had said not without sympathy. Sansa Stark looked away. “Do not forget yourself! You are to gather most of your information on Rand, your brother in law’s next like opponent. Find the people close to him, listen and gather information, and report. Getting information on Drizzt will be secondary to your tasks.
This just the posting on Jaime’s next cage match. I know GRRM does not like fanfic. And this posting is in now way sponsored by GRRM or his publisher.
And thus ends Temeraire’s great run.
Thanks to all of you for participating (and bearing with us), and a special thanks to Naomi, who not only was a great sport, but wrote a fantastic piece for this site (if you haven’t read it yet, do yourself a favor and check it out, above).
Now Jaime fights Kvothe: Kingkiller versus Kingslayer!
See our video recap of this round, here:
http://bit.ly/9×9dFi
And go to the next match, which is now live:
http://bit.ly/c5VWxg