World of A Song of Ice and Fire

World Of A Song Of Ice And Fire

The fictional world in which the A Song of Ice and Fire novels by George R. R. Martin take place is divided into several continents. Most of the story takes place on the continent Westeros, which consists of the Seven Kingdoms and an unmapped area to the north, separated by a massive wall of ice and old magic. The vast continent of Essos lies to the east of Westeros, across the Narrow Sea. The closest foreign nations to Westeros are the Free Cities, a collection of independent city-states along the western edge of this eastern continent. The lands along the southern coastline of the eastern continent, collectively called the Lands of the Summer Sea, include Slavers Bay and the ruins of Valyria, the former home of Westeros's Targaryen kings. To the south of Essos lies the continent of Sothoryos, which in the narrative is largely unexplored.

One of the most visible traits of this fictional world is that the seasons do not pass once per year. Summer and winter can both last many years, and the duration of both can be difficult to predict. The nature and existence of magic is a subject of debate among the characters in this series, with many individuals declining to believe in it. However, as the books progress, it becomes clear that magic does exist in this world (or used to) and is slowly returning.

Read more about World Of A Song Of Ice And FireWorld and Fictional History, The North, The Iron Islands, The Riverlands, The Vale of Arryn, The Westerlands, The Reach, The Stormlands, The Crownlands, Dorne, Free Cities and Vicinity, Eastern Essos, Slaver's Bay

Famous quotes containing the words world, song and/or ice:

    Indeed, I thought, slipping the silver into my purse ... what a change of temper a fixed income will bring about. No force in the world can take from me my five hundred pounds. Food, house and clothing are mine for ever. Therefore not merely do effort and labour cease, but also hatred and bitterness. I need not hate any man; he cannot hurt me. I need not flatter any man; he has nothing to give me.
    Virginia Woolf (1882–1941)

    Even their song is not a sure thing.
    It is not a language;
    it is a kind of breathing.
    They are two asthmatics
    whose breath sobs in and out
    through a small fuzzy pipe.
    Anne Sexton (1928–1974)

    Will lovely, lively, virginal today
    Shatter for us with a wing’s drunken blow
    This hard, forgotten lake haunted in snow
    By the sheer ice of flocks not flown away!
    Stéphane Mallarmé (1842–1898)