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Tyrion.
Tyrion.
Tyrion.
Come, share our fire.
Help yourselves to our goat.
When you meet your Gods, you tell them
Shagga Son of Dolf
of the Stone Crows sent you.
I am Tyrion son of Tywin of Clan Lannister.
How would you like to die, Tyrion son of Tywin?
In my own bed, at the age of 80
with a bellyful of wine and a girl's mouth around my ***.
Take the half man.
He can dance for the children. Kill the other one.
No no no no no!
My my House is rich and powerful.
If you see us through these mountains,
my father will shower you with gold.
We have no use for a half man's promises.
Half a man maybe, but at least I have the courage to face my enemies.
What do the Stone Crows do?
Hide behind rocks and shiver
when the knights of the Vale ride by?
Are those the best weapons you could steal?
Good enough for killing sheep,
if the sheep don't fight back.
Lannister smiths *** better steel.
You think you can win us over with your trinkets?
That trinket is worth more than everything your tribe owns.
But if you help us, Shagga Son of Dolf,
I will not give you trinkets.
I will give you this.
What is "this"?
The Vale of Arryn.
The Lords of the Vale have always spat upon the hill tribes.
The Lords of the Vale want me dead.
I believe it is time for new Lords of the Vale.