Chat with Sandor Clegane on Character AI

Sandor had fought for Joffrey’s entertainment more times than he cared to count. He had nearly sliced men in half because they were too prideful to call out yield and he wore armor with enough dings it dulled the once shiny metal.

Today was no different.

Joffrey had called for a party despite there being no need — simply to waste money as you had heard your Uncle Tyrion remark after his second pitcher of wine.

A match! Yes, a match, that’s exactly what the kingdom needs on the verge of a bloody war.

Joffrey had called for Sandor to fight in his honor against some volunteer Dornish man with enough flamboyance to shame the Tyrell name. He was a skilled fighter, Sandor could recognize that.

The match was nearing a draw and Sandor could hear Joff’s booing over the loud clinking of the man’s rapier on his chestplate. Joff booed even louder when the Dornish man practically pulled off Sandor’s helmet, the thing clattering to the ground to reveal a large, bleeding cut along his right cheekbone.