Daniel Morris: This geek is well-disappointed as fantasy world bids farewell

Next week celebrates the return, for its final season, of arguably the most successful fantasy TV series of all time.

Game of Thrones first hit our screens in 2011 and since then has captured the headlines with its twisting plot lines, graphic violence and unapologetic challenges of the conventions of its genre.

No middle ground is right – I’ve certainly never met anyone who thought Thrones was ‘ok’, ‘average’ or ‘take-it-or-leave it’. Those who have watched it either love it or hate it, and it’ll soon become clear which camp I firmly fall into.

What started out as something of a gamble by show runners David Benioff and Dan Weiss has garnered a following the like of which has rarely been seen, with the show breaking down the usual barriers of fantasy fandom and appealing to TV viewers of all persuasions rather than only the cos-play elite (we salute you).

With it now being shown in around 170 countries, and the viewing figures for the previous season clocking in at an average of over 30 million people per episode across all platforms, the popularity of Game of Thrones is undeniable. But what is it about this show that has led it to engage the minds of viewers like no other of its type?

Long before Game of Thrones came to our screens, the ideas at its heart took shape in the mind of American author George R.R. Martin.

Inspired by the depth of world-building that had been at the core of the works of J.R.R Tolkien, Martin set about penning a series of fantasy novels – A Song Of Ice And Fire – in which he would deliberately populate a complex and detailed setting with characters who fell outside of the genre’s usual closed definitions of good and evil.

Martin’s interest was in characters who, rather than being the absolutes of moral black and white, were a far more intriguing shade of grey. His characters would be those with the potential to exist as both hero or villain, evolve from one into the other, and possess enough of a balance of flaws and virtues to make them very believably human.

And it is surely this that is at the core of why the TV adaptation of Martin’s work has established such a firm grip on so many.

The layered nature of Martin’s very many protagonists has been translated perfectly from book to screen, with Benioff, Weiss and production network HBO having created a show that despite its fantastical setting has introduced audiences to a web of irresistibly relatable characters.

Some may ride dragons, some may rise from the dead, and some may be pushed from a window after having walked in on a bit of incestuous how’s-your-father (or rather, ‘brother’) and gain the power to possess animals and the ability to travel through time.

Despite how off-the-wall their storylines become, the characters in Thrones are rarely stripped of the conflicting moral compasses that make them so captivating. As such, their audience can’t help but both identify with and invest in them.

To me, this is what always makes great drama – relatability. When reading a book, or watching a film or TV show, I am – and sometimes without realising it – looking for a mirror that will reflect at least part of my world and personality.

It doesn’t have to be a complete reflection. I’ve never ridden a dragon, and never risen from the dead. I don’t think I can possess animals, and unless you count my abuse of the jukebox at my local, I’ve never travelled through time.

But many of the moral conundrums faced by characters in shows like Thrones are faced by normal people all the time – namely the overarching dilemma of whether or not to do the right thing despite a potentially heavy personal cost.

Game Of Thrones may be fantasy, but its characters – in this regard at least – are very real.

Like many around the world I am fully invested in the fate of those that have made it to this final season, and be assured I will be tuning in to the inaugural episode of season eight on Monday night with my breath well and truly bated.

As has become tradition, me and and a few good pals will be cracking off the new season together while indulging in a few of our other great loves – ale, wine and a bountiful supply of fried chicken, courtesy of one Colonel Harland David Sanders (we salute you too). Not quite a medieval feast, but in this day and age, close enough for jazz.

It will, I’m sure, be bittersweet. This will of course be the last time we will ever be able to get together for a Thrones season opener. The gargantuan geek within me is sad as well as excited. Yet with many a spin-off supposedly in the pipeline, I’ve got a feeling there will be plenty of excuses for ale, wine and chicken in the near future.

For those who’ve never watched Game of Thrones and want to get your act together, you still have potentially two days – depending on when you picked up this paper – to loosely catch up.

And for those who, like me, have waited for the best part of two years to finally return to the world of Westeros, I can say only... Valar morghulis. Winter has finally come.