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Best Deaths - Book Character guessing game VI

Myrish Swamp Thing

By Myrish Swamp Thing,
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Myrish Swamp Thing

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#3: Oberyn Martell

219 points

Named in 15 ballots

12.17 points per ballot

14.60 points per named ballot

Highest position: 1st (twice)

Prince Oberyn moved closer. “Say the name!” He put a foot on the Mountain’s chest and raised the greatsword with both hands. Whether he intended to hack off Gregor’s head or shove the point through his eyeslit was something Tyrion would never know.

Clegane’s hand shot up and grabbed the Dornishman behind the knee. The Red Viper brought down the greatsword in a wild slash, but he was off-balance, and the edge did no more than put another dent in the Mountain’s vambrace. Then the sword was forgotten as Gregor’s hand tightened and twisted, yanking the Dornishman down on top of him. They wrestled in the dust and blood, the broken spear wobbling back and forth. Tyrion saw with horror that the Mountain had wrapped one huge arm around the prince, drawing him tight against his chest, like a lover.

“Elia of Dorne,” they all heard Ser Gregor say, when they were close enough to kiss. His deep voice boomed within the helm. “I killed her screaming whelp.” He thrust his free hand into Oberyn’s unprotected face, pushing steel fingers into his eyes. “Then I raped her.” Clegane slammed his fist into the Dornishman’s mouth, making splinters of his teeth. “Then I smashed her fucking head in. Like this.” As he drew back his huge fist, the blood on his gauntlet seemed to smoke in the cold dawn air. There was a sickening crunch. Ellaria Sand wailed in terror, and Tyrion’s breakfast came boiling back up. He found himself on his knees retching bacon and sausage and applecakes, and that double helping of fried eggs cooked up with onions and fiery Dornish peppers.

One of the best characters in the story, he was taken away from us too soon, thanks to a moment where his emotions got the better of him. At least he did what he set out to do with that fight, achieving a posthumous victory.

Stavos 41

lunadangelo 31

diremitar 27

Castellan 26

branthelastgreenseer 26

Kobayashi Maru 24

Jon's queen consort 21

KingGendry 21

Lord_Tyrion 20

Lord Arryn 19

Juli Flay 18

Jay Stark 18

First of my Name 17

bbstark 10

TheBlackbear 10

BurDoc725 10

WitchyBex 10

Jaime's Wench 9

DarthZyroth 9

EddardCorleone 6

Lord Flashheart 5

Joyful Union 4

Accio Direwolf 3

Pinkie Baelish 3

Reek the Turncloak 2

Harry the Heiry 1

The Angel's Prophet 0

Steve Stark 0

The Reaver 0

Saharazade 0

AuntDany 0

#2 and #1 will be revealed on Thursday

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Myrish Swamp Thing Council Member

Myrish Swamp Thing

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It all stays in the family.

#2: Robb Stark

249 points

Named in 18 ballots (only character to be named in all lists)

13.83 points per ballot

13.83 points per named ballot

Highest position: 1st (once)

Then the tabletop that the Smalljon had flung over Robb shifted , and her son struggled to his knees. He had an arrow in his side, a second in his leg, a third through his chest. Lord Walder raised a hand, and the music stopped, all but one drum. Catelyn heard the crash of distant battle, and closer the wild howling of a wolf. Grey Wind, she remembered too late. “Heh,” Lord Walder cackled at Robb, “the King in the North arises. Seems we killed some of your men, Your Grace. Oh, but I’ll make you an apology, that will mend them all again, heh.-”

Catelyn grabbed a handful of Jinglebell Frey’s long grey hair and dragged him out of his hiding place. “Lord Walder!” she shouted. “LORD WALDER!” The drum beat slow and sonorous, doom boom doom. “Enough,” said Catelyn. “Enough, I say. You have repaid betrayal with betrayal, let it end.” When she pressed her dagger to jingle bell’s throat, the memory of Bran’s sickroom came back to her, with the feel of steel at her own throat. The drum went boom doom boom doom boom doom. “Please,” she said. “He is my son. My first son, and my last. Let him go. Let him go and I swear we will forget this... forget all you’ve done here. I swear it by the old gods and new, we... we will take no vengeance...”

Lord Walder peered at her in mistrust. “Only a fool would believe such blather. D’you take me for a fool, my lady?”

“I take you for a father. Keep me for a hostage, Edmure as well if you haven’t killed him. But let Robb go.”

“No.” Robb’s voice was whisper faint. “Mother, no...

“Yes. Robb, get up. Get up and walk out, please, please. Save yourself... if not for me, for Jeyne.”

“Jeyne?” Robb grabbed the edge of the table and forced himself to stand. “Mother,” he said, “Grey Wind...”

“Go to him. Now. Robb, walk out of here.”

Lord Walder snorted. “And why would I let him do that?”

She pressed the blade deeper into Jinglebell’s throat. The lackwit rolled his eyes at her in mute appeal. A foul stench assailed her nose, but she paid it no more mind than she did the sullen ceaseless pounding of that drum, boom doom boom doom boom doom. Ser Ryman and Black Walder were circling round her back, but Catelyn did not care. They could do as they wished with her; imprison her, rape her, kill her, it made no matter. She had lived too long, and Ned was waiting. It was Robb she feared for.

“On my honor as a Tully,” she told Lord Walder, “on my honor as a Stark, I will trade your boy’s life for Robb’s. A son for a son.” Her hand shook so badly she was ringing Jinglebell’s head.

Boom, the drum sounded, boom doom boom doom. The old man’s lips went in and out. The knife trembled in Catelyn’s hand, slippery with sweat. “A son for a son, heh,” he repeated. “But that’s a grandson... and he never was much use.”

A man in dark armor and a pale pink cloak spotted with blood stepped up to Robb. “Jaime Lannister sends his regards.” He thrust his longsword through her son’s heart, and twisted.

I already showed you the Red Wedding, so here's a reaction compilation:

And the top spot goes to...

#1: Ned Stark

280 points

Named in 17 ballots

15.56 points per ballot

16.47 points per named ballot

Highest position: 1st (four times)

The High Septon knelt before Joffrey and his mother. “As we sin, so do we suffer,” he intoned, in a deep swelling voice much louder than Father’s. “This man has confessed his crimes in the sight of gods and men, here in this holy place.” Rainbows danced around his head as he lifted his hands in entreaty. “The gods are just, yet Blessed Baelor taught us that they are also merciful. What shall be done with this traitor, Your Grace?”

A thousand voices were screaming, but Arya never heard them. Prince Joffrey... no, King Joffrey... stepped out from behind the shields of his Kingsguard. “My mother bids me let Lord Eddard take the black, and Lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father.” He looked straight at

Sansa then, and smiled, and for a moment Arya thought that the gods had heard her prayer, until Joffrey turned back to the crowd and said, “But they have the soft hearts of women. So long as I am your king, treason shall never go unpunished. Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!”

The crowd roared, and Arya felt the statue of Baelor rock as they surged against it. The High Septon clutched at the king’s cape, and Varys came rushing over waving his arms, and even the queen was saying something to him, but Joffrey shook his head. Lords and knights moved aside as he stepped through, tall and fleshless, a skeleton in iron mail, the King’s Justice. Dimly, as if from far off, Arya heard her sister scream. Sansa had fallen to her knees, sobbing hysterically. Ser Ilyn Payne climbed the steps of the pulpit.

Arya wriggled between Baelor’s feet and threw herself into the crowd, drawing Needle. She landed on a man in a butcher’s apron, knocking him to the ground. Immediately someone slammed into her back and she almost went down herself. Bodies closed in around her, stumbling and pushing, trampling on the poor butcher. Arya slashed at them with Needle.

High atop the pulpit, Ser Ilyn Payne gestured and the knight in black-and-gold gave a command. The gold cloaks flung Lord Eddard to the marble, with his head and chest out over the edge.

“Here, you!” an angry voice shouted at Arya, but she bowled past, shoving people aside, squirming between them, slamming into anyone in her way. A hand fumbled at her leg and she hacked at it, kicked at shins. A woman stumbled and Arya ran up her back, cutting to both sides, but it was no good, no good, there were too many people, no sooner did she make a hole than it closed again. Someone buffeted her aside. She could still hear Sansa screaming.

Ser Ilyn drew a two-handed greatsword from the scabbard on his back. As he lifted the blade above his head, sunlight seemed to ripple and dance down the dark metal, glinting off an edge sharper than any razor. Ice, she thought, he has Ice! Her tears streamed down her face, blinding her.

And then a hand shot out of the press and closed round her arm like a wolf trap, so hard that Needle went flying from her hand. Arya was wrenched off her feet. She would have fallen if he hadn’t held her up, as easy as if she were a doll. A face pressed close to hers, long black hair and tangled beard and rotten teeth. “Don’t look!” a thick voice snarled at her.

“I... I . I... Arya sobbed.

The old man shook her so hard her teeth rattled. “Shut your mouth and close your eyes, boy.” Dimly, as if from far away, she heard a... a noise... a soft sighing sound, as if a million people had let out their breath at once. The old man’s fingers dug into her arm, stiff as iron. “Look at me. Yes, that’s the way of it, at me.” Sour wine perfumed his breath. “Remember, boy?”

It was the smell that did it. Arya saw the matted greasy hair, the patched, dusty black cloak that covered his twisted shoulders, the hard black eyes squinting at her. And she remembered the black brother who had come to visit her father.

“Know me now, do you? There’s a bright boy.” He spat. “They’re done here. You’ll be coming with me, and you’ll be keeping your mouth shut.” When she started to reply, he shook her again, even harder. “Shut, I said.”

Here's how it happened: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PW6wfXPeJTw

What I said before about how heart-wrenching the Red Wedding was still applies, and you must feel horrible at Cat watching who she thinks is her last living son be taken away from her.

And, as this ranking implies, Ned's demise was even more shocking. We all thought at first he was going to be the big hero of the story (at least those of us who first became fans because of the show), and he was only the Obi-Wan figure. This was the big moment for ASOIAF, the moment where George showed he wasn't going to play by the usual rules.

FINAL RANKING

Stavos 53

lunadangelo 40

Lord_Tyrion 32

Kobayashi Maru 30

Jay Stark 30

Juli Flay 30

First of my Name 29

Castellan 29

diremitar 27

KingGendry 27

branthelastgreenseer 26

Jon's queen consort 24

DarthZyroth 21

Lord Arryn 19

EddardCorleone 18

AuntDany 12

bbstark 10

TheBlackbear 10

BurDoc725 10

WitchyBex 10

Jaime's Wench 9

Pinkie Baelish 9

Lord Flashheart 5

Joyful Union 4

Accio Direwolf 3

Reek the Turncloak 2

Harry the Heiry 1

The Angel's Prophet 0

Steve Stark 0

The Reaver 0

Saharazade 0

Big congratulations to Stavos! :D

Will post the full list tomorrow morning.

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