IF you wanted to kill all life on Westeros and you only had the power of undeath on your side…

Things would be pretty difficult for you. Undeath has a lot of enemies in this universe. Regular, ordinary fire kills your foot-soldiers and your cavalry and shock troops die to rocks that come out of the damn ground. Literally any child in a forest could pick up a stone, put it on a stick, chuck it–and take out your best troop if it EVEN CONNECTS.

You’re going..to have a rough time.

This is supposing that you’re not facing air support that rains down magical fire, magical fire itself being launched from siege weapons–you get the idea. Your life is hard. And when there are tons of big brutes out there who have swords and spears covered with rocks that kill you if they touch you–winning isn’t even an idea. Survival is hard enough. It’s mostly done through hiding. Through having a fortress that they can’t attack because getting on a field of battle means almost certain death.

So–if you DID want to win from that position? What would you do? I’ll tell you what I’d do…

First thing is get rid of those fucking rocks and the semi-steel (Valarian Steel is part Dragon-glass!? Only SAM the SLAYER could work that out! I have a Bender “I’m 40% Dragonglass, Baby!” meme ready).

You do that? You get rid of THEIR shock troops? Even if they’re just not holding the rocks? You can deal with the rest, or find a way.

So since you can’t get rid of literal mountains? You have to get rid of their use, you have to stop the making of the new half iron half rock shit.

That’s your only chance. You gotta get rid of the makers of the new stuff, gather it up at every chance. There’s no other plan.

So. I don’t know how the Doom happened to Old Valyria. But I know why. I have a pretty good idea on who did it or why they used (they live in a house that nobody seems as very homely for some odd reason, though I always though it was rather charming on the inside myself).

I don’t know if the Night King is an agent of the big evil, or if he’s the big evil, but I do know what I’d do if I had to always tell the truth but always wanted to manipulate people. I’d get rid of what I call “accountability modifiers.” Let me give you an example.

“I am sorry for what I did. This is what it was. I made that mistake. I will not make that mistake again, because it was wrong in these ways.”



Even without specifics the speaker of those words is IRON BOUND. Any willing going forward from there to anyone who heard that will think less of this power, it’s basically a vow in the modern era. Compare that to the following admission of guilt:

“Mistakes were made–we have to look forward.”



Both are the same legal confession–but one is accountable. So what I’d do if I wanted to convince you guys to do my bidding? Serve me but keep my hands clean? Speak to you and not lie to you even if you asked me hard questions? What would I do?

–I’d speak like the second set of quotations, all the time. All the time. I’d lower my “fidelity” all the time so anything I said could mean anything but I could still get you to do what I want.

I would–well, I can’t say that anymore. One would start using more and more vague language, with greater and greater emphasis on their desires. One would speak of this authority in both absolute and vague terms. One would give this mission, this entity, this desire and motive a name that had no clear meaning.

One would call it the Many-Faceted-Good.

One would tell you that Many-Facet-Good had a mission for you. If you were ready. One could tell you–but not you, as I need many for this mission. I have many words–and many things need being done.

One would talk to ‘someone.’

One would compel someone to aid the Many-Faceted-Good. And the MFG must be helped. Things are dire. One hears all kinds of evils. One has a remedy if only someone out there is wiling…

Enough of that. You more than got the point long ago.

I’d get the hearers of that message, or do it myself. I’d “Doom.” I’d say that. “This place was Doomed.” And since i’m playing the long game? I’ll make sure it fucking STAYS Doomed. I’ll infest it with infested. I’ll make sure everyone who goes there or even THINKS about it gets the shivers. They made the only weapons that pose any threat to me and my plans. So they’re out.

And find people, greedy people want the good kind of rock from the ground. The kind that we can alway sfind more of, more than you could ever imagine. We’ll buy back the half dragonglass. We’ll do it piece by piece. There’s always someone, on the edge, in the shadows. We can always find a way to them and from them to what we want.

Even some from a place as little as The Fingers could possibly, with enough of my backing, collect every single piece of valyrian steel out there. Every. Last. One. And a man before him like him, and a man before him like him.

The air problem isn’t one anymore. Not really. Three dragons, even huge ones? Rocks solve that problem. Arrows. Spears. The thing I always knew when 409 aired? Was that the giant firing the crossbow? Wasn’t the payoff. I just didn’t know what it was until I saw the giants marching in 701.

So. Where was my stoned ass.

There’s really not much left to do. You’re no longer stuck on undeath prison island if you can just get south enough. The fucking, when they stop using the fancy dragonglassstones? They just start KILLING the children of the forest so much. It almost sorts itself out.

So that’s what I’d do—

Of course. there’s two sides in every conflict. You guys wanna hear what I’d do if the other guy sank my Valyrian Battleship, collected all the steel up and gotten obsidian mining out of the minds of people entirely? Let me know. I have some thoughts on what I’d do to fight back against that plan if I had real limited resources versus an unlimited army of undead and the endless greed of man, myself.