Previously on Game of Yetis:
Lord Bookshelf Q. Battler, consumate bamboozler that he is, has managed to set up a pretty sweet deal for himself. While Westeros burns in the war for the Iron Throne, Lord BQB remains holed up in his palace in Shelftopia, an island a few miles away from Casterly Rock.
To cover all his bases, BQB has sent ravens bearing messages to literally every player, informing each party that he is with them, along with apologies for not being able to fight himself for a variety of contrived reasons (carpal tunnel syndrome, crusty eye disease, etc).
BQB’s plan was to ride out the war, playing X-Box, drinking Dew of the Mountain, and consuming snacks from his snack reserve and ultimately, pledge his allegiance to whoever arises as the victor.
But alas, a crimp in his plans – his snack stockpile has been raided by a band of filthy yetis, the banner men of Lord Yeti of House Yeti.
Seven Hells, that was a longwinded recap. You should just go read the bloody thing.
Far from Shelftopia….past Winterfell…and even farther north of The Wall, there exists an enclave of wretched ice encrusted land known as Yetifell.
Why Yetifell? As the legend goes, in long ago days, long even before the First Men, a group of smelly Yetis wondered north, got tired, fell down, and decided the place they landed on was as good as any to remain.
Inhospitably cold, it appeared as a frozen wasteland to humans, but was friggin’ Disney World for Yetis.
Lord Yeti sat in his chamber, drinking a glass of ordinary water.
“Blech,” Lord Yeti said. “Bland and boring. Soon my Yetis will return to me with all of Lord BQB’s barrels of Dew of the Mountain! And then I shall drink and burp till my heart’s content!”
Yetis — they were enormous, each one stood over eight feet tall. All but one — Lord Yeti’s youngest son, Yetyrion, who stood at a paltry 6’5.”
That may have been tall for a human, but in Yeti circles, he was considered a “Dwarf Yeti.”
“Father,” Yetyrion said. “May I partake of some of the Dew of the Mountain when it arrives?”
“Bahh!” Lord Yeti scoffed at the mere idea. “Dew of the Mountain is for man Yetis! You are no man! You are a shameful Dwarf Yeti!”
“I didn’t ask to be born a Dwarf Yeti, father.”
“Yes! Yes you did!”
“Did not!”
“Did so!”
And that went on for hours, until Yetyrion conceded that he had asked to be born a Dwarf Yeti, not out of a desire to agree to such a nonsensical premise, but because he grew tired of the absurd back and forth.
“It does not matter anyway,” Lord Yeti said. “My banner yetis will not be back anytime soon. They will be providing my arch nemesis, the insolent Lord BQB, with a most fiendish form of torture!”
“The rack?” Yetyrion asked.
“No.”
“Water torture?”
“Worse!”
“Whip?”
“Worse!” Lord Yeti said. “They will do what Yetis do best! They will become terrible houseguests and will take over Castle Bookshelf, mess it up, eat all of BQB’s snacks, and refuse to lift a furry finger to help!”
“Wow,” Yetyrion said. “That does sound like torture!”
THE YETI: Umm..BQB…you know that’s not a Yeti right?
BQB: What? The GOT Make Your Own Sigil Site didn’t have a Yeti icon!
THE YETI: So you just put a damn bear on a flag?
BQB: Yeah. So. What? Bears. Yetis. They’re both big dumb hairy animals that eat all your food.
THE YETI: I’m highly offended.
Bookshelf Battle 