Ghost Grass

[Texas Hold Em]

So the Dothraki believe the world will end when this weed takes over the land and destroys all other vegetation.  All living things feed off of the sun and it starts with photosynthesis.  In effect, Ghost Grass will do in Essos the same thing that the long night will do in Westeros:  end life by destroying vegetation. 

1. How do you propose to stop the spread of this invasive weed? 
2. What keeps the weed in check now?

Any ideas? 

[Ser Duncan of Flea Bottom]

Well, that's a Dothraki's superstition, we don't even know if the grass is actually spreading. Ser Jorah heard the story from the Dothraki, he never visited the Shadow Lands. Maybe the Ghost Grass is exclusive from the Shadow Lands, it just spread there, Asshai and the Shadow Lands seem to be a really barren place.

[Aline de Gavrillac]

People have their beliefs for how the world will end.  It also follows the religions give hope that such undesirable events can be avoided.  What if that's not the case and the resulting depopulation is just the result of the forces of nature becoming hostile to life?  Religion where many of the prophecies come from give hope.  Hope is comforting and allows the people to believe in salvation.  Otherwise, despair and sorrow would blanket the land.  It is beyond man's abilities to stop the cycle of life and death.  As the night follows the day, ice follows fire, death follows life.  Why should humans escape the culling effects of mother nature when every other animal is at its mercy!  There is a mass killer wherever the place in the world.  If it's not flooding it's earthquakes. 

The truth is somewhere in Asshai and it's bitter.  That winter will kill off the greater part of the population cannot be avoided.  Put together all of the bits and pieces of these stories and myths and it doesn't look good.  According to Nan, the long night lasted for generations and resulted in kill off.  The result is the same regardless of the method.  Die off. 

[Leo of House Cartel]

Interesting questions Tex!

The abundance of ghost grass shown around the Shadow Lands in the map book does seem to suggest an importance to the stuff, beyond simple Dothraki superstition. 

We also have this quote.

"And so it was, then. But now? I am less certain. It is said that the glass candles are burning in the house of Urrathon Night-Walker, that have not burned in a hundred years. Ghost grass grows in the Garden of Gehane, phantom tortoises have been seen carrying messages between the windowless houses on Warlock's Way, and all the rats in the city are chewing off their tails. The wife of Mathos Mallarawan, who once mocked a warlock's drab moth-eaten robe, has gone mad and will wear no clothes at all. Even fresh-washed silks make her feel as though a thousand insects were crawling on her skin. And Blind Sybassion the Eater of Eyes can see again, or so his slaves do swear. A man must wonder." He sighed. 

- A Clash of Kings - Daenerys V

While the "Urrathon" bit is usually focused on, it is worth noting the ghost grass reference tucked away amongst all these tales of warlocks, glass candles and rats chewing off their own tails. Everything in this quote sounds so grim, doesn't it? End of the world type stuff.

Xaro makes this speech as a way of showing how magic is once again blossoming in Planetos. If he was't simply posturing then the tale of the Ghost Grass growing in a Quartheen location could be troubling, considering it's been nearly two years since he mentioned it - one has to wonder how much damage the ghost grass could have done to the local vegetation/population, if it were to spread.

6 hours ago, Texas Hold Em said:

So the Dothraki believe the world will end when this weed takes over the land and destroys all other vegetation.  All living things feed off of the sun and it starts with photosynthesis.  In effect, Ghost Grass will do in Essos the same thing that the long night will do in Westeros:  end life by destroying vegetation. 

1. How do you propose to stop the spread of this invasive weed? 
2. What keeps the weed in check now?

Any ideas? 

1. Not sure if it would be possible, under the current world wide political climate. Such an operation would likely necessitate communications between the natives of areas where ghost grass grows - it might be difficult to convince the highly secretive rulers of Asshai'i (if there even is such a thing) to join in with the cleanup. Same goes for the Dothraki and Quartheen.

2. I think magic would be a strong possibility. 

6 hours ago, Aline de Gavrillac said:

People have their beliefs for how the world will end.  It also follows the religions give hope that such undesirable events can be avoided.  

The truth is somewhere in Asshai and it's bitter.  That winter will kill off the greater part of the population cannot be avoided.  Put together all of the bits and pieces of these stories and myths and it doesn't look good.  According to Nan, the long night lasted for generations and resulted in kill off.  The result is the same regardless of the method.  Die off. 

A poetic way to put it Aline.

 One could look at the following quote as an example of the ghost grass being a metaphor for the Others.

"Down in the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai, they say there are oceans of ghost grass, taller than a man on horseback with stalks as pale as milkglass. It murders all other grass and glows in the dark with the spirits of the damned. The Dothraki claim that someday ghost grass will cover the entire world, and then all life will end."

A Game of Thrones - Daenerys III

Pale as milkglass, taller than a man on horseback and a penchant for killing off other grass - certainly brings to mind the tall, pale riders who "hate everything with warm blood". The "glowing with the spirits of the damned" also has parallels to the Others raising wights with shining blue eyes to be their eternal servants. 

If the ghost grass and White Walkers are separate entities, I wonder where both originated?

A lot of people reckon the Others were created by Those Who Sing The Song of Earth, with the idea being the cold shadows would act as some kind of extermination squad to the humans. I wonder if the ghost grass might have similar origins ; perhaps the Children - or even the Others themselves - created the glowing stalks as extra means to wipe out humanity.

[Ralphis Baratheon]

Once Victorian Greyjoy sails the Dothraki sea and saves Daenerys, all the Ghost Grass is Essos shall turn into lemon trees. Then Dany and Victorian shall marry under the tallest one.

[ASwordAhai]

Think the ghost grass is a dothraki metaphor for entropy. 

[Dorian Martell's son]

18 hours ago, Texas Hold Em said:

Any ideas? 

as crackpot goes, this is pretty low on the tinfoil scale, but I do not think that the Ghost grass will somehow cause destruction like the long night 

[LiveFirstDieLater]

Ideas, asks you?

Weirgrass says I!

Like Weirwoods, I suspect it can hold “souls” and probably needs bloodshed to grow... but it’s just an idea.

[Lord Lannister]

Until we actually see some ghost grass, can't say I'm too worried about this as a possibility.

[Bowen Marsh]

Here's the way I see it.  The biggest killer in the west is not the white walkers but the winter itself.  Winning the battle against the white walkers is not going to make the weather turn.  It didn't 8K years ago because the long night lasted for years.  So what really kills people is the lack of food.  Ghost Grass taking over the land will destroy edible plant life.  Something will need to trigger the spread of the grass, some change in the environment that favors its growth over that of other plants.  Plants require sunlight but if Ghost Grass is like Weir trees that do not require sunlight.  A climate change that darkens the skies for a long period will favor this grass over any other plant life.  It will grow stronger while the other plants grow weaker.  The stronger grass will spread and choke off edible plants.  There is threat in the east and it's just as deadly as what may come in the west.  Since most of my favorite characters are in the east, this is the area that interests me.  I would love for Dany to visit Asshai and get answers to some of these mysteries.

[Lost Melnibonean]

On 1/31/2018 at 6:37 AM, Ralphis Baratheon said:

Once Victorian Greyjoy sails the Dothraki sea and saves Daenerys, all the Ghost Grass is Essos shall turn into lemon trees. Then Dany and Victorian shall marry under the tallest one.

[Lost Melnibonean]

On 1/31/2018 at 3:54 PM, LiveFirstDieLater said:

Ideas, asks you?

Weirgrass says I!

Like Weirwoods, I suspect it can hold “souls” and probably needs bloodshed to grow... but it’s just an idea.

Ooh... then it would spread pretty fast on a "sea of blood."

[Lord Lannister]

On 1/31/2018 at 6:08 PM, Bowen Marsh said:

Here's the way I see it.  The biggest killer in the west is not the white walkers but the winter itself. 

Guess it boils down to the question of it the Others bring the cold or if the cold brings the Others. It seems almost like a forgone conclusion to me that if the Others are permanently defeated that the seasons would change to something akin to our own.

[Lost Melnibonean]

3 hours ago, Lord Lannister said:

Guess it boils down to the question of it the Others bring the cold or if the cold brings the Others. It seems almost like a forgone conclusion to me that if the Others are permanently defeated that the seasons would change to something akin to our own.

The Others bring the cold. The Others put Othor and Jafer to sleep, and then woke 'em up...

Quote

"Othor," announced Ser Jaremy Rykker, "beyond a doubt. And this one was Jafer Flowers." He turned the corpse over with his foot, and the dead white face stared up at the overcast sky with blue, blue eyes. "They were Ben Stark's men, both of them." . . .

The morning was unnaturally warm; beads of sweat dotted the Lord Commander's broad forehead like dew on a melon. . . .

"Tell me how they died."

Squatting beside the dead man he had named Jafer Flowers, Ser Jaremy grasped his head by the scalp. The hair came out between his fingers, brittle as straw. The knight cursed and shoved at the face with the heel of his hand. A great gash in the side of the corpse's neck opened like a mouth, crusted with dried blood. Only a few ropes of pale tendon still attached the head to the neck. "This was done with an axe."

"Aye," muttered Dywen, the old forester. "Belike the axe that Othor carried, m'lord."

Jon could feel his breakfast churning in his belly, but he pressed his lips together and made himself look at the second body. Othor had been a big ugly man, and he made a big ugly corpse. No axe was in evidence. Jon remembered Othor; he had been the one bellowing the bawdy song as the rangers rode out. His singing days were done. His flesh was blanched white as milk, everywhere but his hands. His hands were black like Jafer's. Blossoms of hard cracked blood decorated the mortal wounds that covered him like a rash, breast and groin and throat. Yet his eyes were still open. They stared up at the sky, blue as sapphires. . . .

Sam mopped at the sweat on his brow. "You . . . you can see where Ghost . . . Jon's direwolf . . . you can see where he tore off that man's hand, and yet . . . the stump hasn't bled, look . . . " He waved a hand. "My father . . . L-lord Randyll, he, he made me watch him dress animals sometimes, when . . . after . . . " Sam shook his head from side to side, his chins quivering. Now that he had looked at the bodies, he could not seem to look away. "A fresh kill . . . the blood would still flow, my lords. Later . . . later it would be clotted, like a . . . a jelly, thick and . . . and . . . " He looked as though he was going to be sick. "This man . . . look at the wrist, it's all . . . crusty . . . dry . . . like . . . "

Jon saw at once what Sam meant. He could see the torn veins in the dead man's wrist, iron worms in the pale flesh. His blood was a black dust. Yet Jaremy Rykker was unconvinced. "If they'd been dead much longer than a day, they'd be ripe by now, boy. They don't even smell."

Dywen, the gnarled old forester who liked to boast that he could smell snow coming on, sidled closer to the corpses and took a whiff. "Well, they're no pansy flowers, but . . . m'lord has the truth of it. There's no corpse stink."

"They . . . they aren't rotting." Sam pointed, his fat finger shaking only a little. "Look, there's . . . there's no maggots or . . . or . . . worms or anything . . . they've been lying here in the woods, but they . . . they haven't been chewed or eaten by animals . . . only Ghost . . . otherwise they're . . . they're . . . "

"Untouched," Jon said softly. "And Ghost is different. The dogs and the horses won't go near them." . . .

"This . . . this is all wrong," Sam Tarly said earnestly. "The blood . . . there's bloodstains on their clothes, and . . . and their flesh, dry and hard, but . . . there's none on the ground, or . . . anywhere. With those . . . those . . . those . . . " Sam made himself swallow, took a deep breath. "With those wounds . . . terrible wounds . . . there should be blood all over. Shouldn't there?"

Dywen sucked at his wooden teeth. "Might be they didn't die here. Might be someone brought 'em and left 'em for us. A warning, as like." The old forester peered down suspiciously. "And might be I'm a fool, but I don't know that Othor never had no blue eyes afore."

Ser Jaremy looked startled. "Neither did Flowers," he blurted, turning to stare at the dead man. . . .

The day was grey, damp, overcast, the sort of day that made you wish for rain. No wind stirred the wood; the air hung humid and heavy, and Jon's clothes clung to his skin. It was warm. Too warm. The Wall was weeping copiously, had been weeping for days, and sometimes Jon even imagined it was shrinking. . . .

Bowen Marsh was waiting at the first gate as they led their garrons through the icy tunnel. . . .

A north wind had begun to blow by the time the sun went down. Jon could hear it skirling against the Wall and over the icy battlements as he went to the common hall for the evening meal. . . .

Later, much later, after they had marched him back to his sleeping cell, Mormont came down to see him, raven on his shoulder. "I told you not to do anything stupid, boy," the Old Bear said. "Boy," the bird chorused. Mormont shook his head, disgusted. "And to think I had high hopes for you."

They took his knife and his sword and told him he was not to leave his cell until the high officers met to decide what was to be done with him. And then they placed a guard outside his door to make certain he obeyed. His friends were not allowed to see him, but the Old Bear did relent and permit him Ghost, so he was not utterly alone.

"My father is no traitor," he told the direwolf when the rest had gone. Ghost looked at him in silence. Jon slumped against the wall, hands around his knees, and stared at the candle on the table beside his narrow bed. The flame flickered and swayed, the shadows moved around him, the room seemed to grow darker and colder. I will not sleep tonight, Jon thought.

Yet he must have dozed. When he woke, his legs were stiff and cramped and the candle had long since burned out. Ghost stood on his hind legs, scrabbling at the door. Jon was startled to see how tall he'd grown. "Ghost, what is it?" he called softly. The direwolf turned his head and looked down at him, baring his fangs in a silent snarl. Has he gone mad? Jon wondered. "It's me, Ghost," he murmured, trying not to sound afraid. Yet he was trembling, violently. When had it gotten so cold?

Ghost backed away from the door. There were deep gouges where he'd raked the wood. Jon watched him with mounting disquiet. "There's someone out there, isn't there?" he whispered. Crouching, the direwolf crept backward, white fur rising on the back of his neck. The guard, he thought, they left a man to guard my door, Ghost smells him through the door, that's all it is.

Slowly, Jon pushed himself to his feet. He was shivering uncontrollably, wishing he still had a sword.

 

[Lollygag]

This is sort of a dumb idea based on color and a thread on phosphorus but it seems to help explain the seasons being erratic. 

The Others thrive in darkness and death, yet are bright and shimmering white themselves and leave bright and shimmering white in their wake. Almost as if they consume dark and light is their waste. In turning things white, all darkness is consumed. In turning things black, all light is consumed.

Dragons are light and heat. When dragons destroy or consume, they leave darkness and black. As the Others are white, dragons have black bones, almost as if they consume the light and darkness is their waste. It may be no coincidence that Balerion and Drogon are both black and very powerful and Viseryon who is white is the weakest dragon. I don’t follow the Targ backstory, but I’m wondering if there’s a consistent correlation to darkness/lightness and power/weakness in dragons.

Asshai’s description:

The World of Ice and Fire - The Bones and Beyond: Asshai-by-the-Shadow

An account by Archmaester Marwyn confirms reports that no man rides in Asshai, be he warrior, merchant, or prince. There are no horses in Asshai, no elephants, no mules, no donkeys, no zorses, no camels, no dogs. Such beasts, when brought there by ship, soon die. The malign influence of the Ash and its polluted waters have been implicated, as it is well understood from Harmon's On Miasmas that animals are more sensitive to the foulness exuded by such waters, even without drinking them. Septon Barth's writings speculate more wildly, referring to the higher mysteries with little evidence.

Yet the population of Asshai is no greater than that of a good-sized market town. By night the streets are deserted, and only one building in ten shows a light. Even at the height of day, there are no crowds to be seen, no tradesmen shouting their wares in noisy markets, no women gossiping at a well. Those who walk the streets of Asshai are masked and veiled, and have a furtive air about them. Oft as not, they walk alone, or ride in palanquins of ebony and iron, hidden behind dark curtains and borne through the dark streets upon the backs of slaves.

And there are no children in Asshai.

Despite its forbidding aspects, Asshai-by-the-Shadow has for many centuries been a thriving port, where ships from all over the known world come to trade, crossing vast and stormy seas. Most arrive laden with foodstuffs and wine, for beyond the walls of Asshai little grows save ghost grass, whose glassy, glowing stalks are inedible. If not for the food brought in from across the sea, the Asshai'i would have starved.

The ships bring casks of freshwater too. The waters of the Ash glisten black beneath the noonday sun and glimmer with a pale green phosphorescence by night, and such fish as swim in the river are blind and twisted, so deformed and hideous to look upon that only fools and shadowbinders will eat of their flesh.

So while Asshai is linked to dragons and light, it is uneerily dark. Almost as if the dragons (and whatever else they’re up to) consumed too much light thus throwing off the balance until there was no more light to consume. Ghost grass is the only thing that grows and many connect ghost grass to the Others. Like the Others, ghost grass thrives in dark to such an extent that it has no darkness to itself making itself white like the Others. The Dothraki apocalypse where the world is covered in ghost grass is the Long Night.

So if either Ice or Fire overconsumes, it ends up starving itself and feeding it’s opposite in excess which may what is starting to happen in Asshai. To the degree that one or the other overconsumes, it makes the pendulum swing wilder and wilder. Not unlike the oxygen/carbon dioxide cycle. Not unlike too much phosphorus in the water. Credit to this thread:

https://water.usgs.gov/edu/phosphorus.html

https://www.epa.gov/nutrientpollution/problem

 

 

[Aline de Gavrillac]

On 1/31/2018 at 5:37 AM, Leo of House Cartel said:

A poetic way to put it Aline.

 One could look at the following quote as an example of the ghost grass being a metaphor for the Others.

"Down in the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai, they say there are oceans of ghost grass, taller than a man on horseback with stalks as pale as milkglass. It murders all other grass and glows in the dark with the spirits of the damned. The Dothraki claim that someday ghost grass will cover the entire world, and then all life will end."

A Game of Thrones - Daenerys III

Pale as milkglass, taller than a man on horseback and a penchant for killing off other grass - certainly brings to mind the tall, pale riders who "hate everything with warm blood". The "glowing with the spirits of the damned" also has parallels to the Others raising wights with shining blue eyes to be their eternal servants. 

If the ghost grass and White Walkers are separate entities, I wonder where both originated?

A lot of people reckon the Others were created by Those Who Sing The Song of Earth, with the idea being the cold shadows would act as some kind of extermination squad to the humans. I wonder if the ghost grass might have similar origins ; perhaps the Children - or even the Others themselves - created the glowing stalks as extra means to wipe out humanity.

Milkglass was also used to describe House Dayne's ancestral sword.  Perhaps the sword came from the Other side! 

GG and the WW may herald the end of days.  They're not the cause but one of the means to extinguish life.  The singers perhaps.  Those who live beneath the earth may have the resources to weather out the storm and come out to a cleansed earthos when the climate changes again.  Sort of a renewal of nature.  Winter kills and spring gives birth.

[Walda]

No quarrel with your theory, but re. your sources - was that ^ really Marwyn's description? In the World of Ice and Fire, Marwyn's quote is only the first paragraph, the rest is a continuation of the text of Yandal or Gyldayn, not Marwyn.

It seems to consist of the cursory observations of an historic traveller who did not know anyone in Asshai,  or linger there long enough to, as interpreted by a parochial Oldtowner keen to portray Asshai as inferior to the Seven Kingdoms, confident his little king would have no more need of its ancient wisdom than he did himself.

We know Mirri Maz Duur was in Asshai at the same time as Marwyn (was indeed his student) and that she learnt birthing songs there from a moonsinger of Jogos Nhai. It seems unlikely to me that midwives would travel to a place where there are no children to learn their trade. The notion that every native of the town has 'a furtive air' when they step into the street is idiotic, the kind of impression a tourist, fearing they will be robbed or harmed while alone in a strange place, would form without much justification (although, of course, being a tourist, and hanging around the docks looking around for taverns and women, do increase the likelihood of being ripped off anywhere in any world).

The account given of Asshai reminds me strongly of the account of the Azores given in William Guthrie's 1770 New Geographical, Historical, and Commercial Grammar, and Present State of the Several Kingdoms of the World.

Guthrie had been a political hack in London, until he was pensioned off by the government. He then supplemented his income by writing inaccurate histories, an inaccurate peerage (which became even more so after emendation by aristocrats whose families were in it), and this geography book. Some of what was in it came from medieval sources, and just about all of it could have been corrected if he had chosen to consult with people who had been there - of which there were many in London, and easily enough accessible to him through the Navy etc.

Guthrie's type of history is called 'conjectural history' now - it takes the view that history progresses in stages, and looks to the natural history of the area to explain historical, geographical and even social phenomena.  He remembers to mention that the islands are volcanic, but elides the real mystery of when Europeans first discovered the Azores (they appeared on medieval maps for a hundred years before their 'official' discovery, and were a haven for pirates long after). He also ignores their significance in the history of colonization (firstly as the most westerly known Portuguese port in the treaty of Tordesillas, and later their importance as a port of call for ships going to the American colonies and the African ones, and ships going down the coast of Africa on their way to the East Indies.) Although he would not have seen colonisation as history - he was writing nearly a century before peak colonisation, after all - he would have known how important the port was for trade, especially the slave trade. But those things didn't fit his notions of the moral lessons that can be gleaned from history.

This discussion of the waters of Asshai seems to be of the same kind - an assurance to King Tommen that Asshai is inferior to the Seven Kingdoms, a dying race. Everything we know about Asshai except this account, is that it is the world centre for blood magic. Marwyn knows this. Marwyn went to Asshai to learn magic and was not disappointed. He knows how to light a glass candle, the other archmaesters call him 'the mage' and he calls them 'the grey sheep'. I'm pretty sure this is the narrative of a grey sheep, not a mage.

*

On the OP's question

On 1/31/2018 at 11:45 AM, Texas Hold Em said:

What keeps the weed in check now?

My guess would be, ground temperature and geographical barriers.(mountains and seas limiting their ability to grow, and a dearth of migrating animals to carry the grass seeds - one reason why some grasses have evolved to be edible is so that they can spread via animals, but ghost grass is emphatically inedible.)

Soil salinity, acidity, lack of specific micro-nutrients, and lack of water are all things that keep weeds in check, but Ghost grass seems to be well able to survive in poor soils, and poisoned waters.  Most weeds are adept at exploiting disturbed soils - they pop up where the natives have been dug up, and grab the advantage of them by emerging sooner, growing faster, seeding more etc.

So, I would guess that the ghost grass would get a move on when climate change makes the Dothraki sea parched and dry (from sub-zero temperatures) and the waters were poisoned by some volcanic means that weakened the other grasses.  Or perhaps the ghost grass has a foothold in places that were scorched and poisoned by dragonfire, and when the dragons come again, the ghost grass will be all that will still grow in the Dothraki sea.

On the OP's first question: There is no good evidence that ghost grass is an invasive weed. The Dothraki claim it 'murders' other grasses, and that it will one day take over the world, but Dany has never seen it, nor Jorah, who tells her of its existance in the Shadowlands beyond Asshai, where he has never been.

Xaro's claim that there was ghost grass in the gardens of Gehane seems to suggest that the ghost grass invasion has begun, but Xaro is an inherently unreliable narrator, and he knows the beliefs of the Dothraki, that this is an effective way of telling Dany that he had lied about the powers of the Warlocks, and she would unleash an apocalypse if she stayed in Qarth longer.  The glass candles, phantom tortoises, tailess rats, and the mad woman seem equally important to him as signs - and, as signs, equally superstitious.

If there is ghost grass growing in a warlocks garden, it logically had germinated before Dany arrived in Qarth, it just hasn't suited Xaro to mention it (or any of these superstitious omens) until then.  It did not suit him to mention ghost grass and warlocks later, in Meereen. They didn't seem to trouble his thoughts then.

The Dothraki have a passionate hatred of blood magic and everything connected with it, they believe the ghost grass holds the souls of the damned. I'm guessing from that that ghost grass has magical properties, hence the sinister reputation with the Dothraki. Co-incidentally, it is the grass that grows in the Shadowlands, where the blood mages come from. That doesn't make it an invasive weed. To be considered an invasive weed, a plant has to invade an area, and I don't think growing in the garden of a mage (who might have obtained it from Asshai and cultivated it especially) constitutes an invasion.

[ravenous reader]

On 2/1/2018 at 11:53 PM, Lost Melnibonean said:

The Others bring the cold. The Others put Othor and Jafer to sleep, and then woke 'em up...

What does the temperature rise and the wall weeping have to do with the Others?

On 2/1/2018 at 11:53 PM, Lost Melnibonean said:

Quote

"Othor," announced Ser Jaremy Rykker, "beyond a doubt. And this one was Jafer Flowers." He turned the corpse over with his foot, and the dead white face stared up at the overcast sky with blue, blue eyes. "They were Ben Stark's men, both of them." . . .

The morning was unnaturally warm; beads of sweat dotted the Lord Commander's broad forehead like dew on a melon. . . .

"Tell me how they died."

Squatting beside the dead man he had named Jafer Flowers, Ser Jaremy grasped his head by the scalp. The hair came out between his fingers, brittle as straw. The knight cursed and shoved at the face with the heel of his hand. A great gash in the side of the corpse's neck opened like a mouth, crusted with dried blood. Only a few ropes of pale tendon still attached the head to the neck. "This was done with an axe."

"Aye," muttered Dywen, the old forester. "Belike the axe that Othor carried, m'lord."

Jon could feel his breakfast churning in his belly, but he pressed his lips together and made himself look at the second body. Othor had been a big ugly man, and he made a big ugly corpse. No axe was in evidence. Jon remembered Othor; he had been the one bellowing the bawdy song as the rangers rode out. His singing days were done. His flesh was blanched white as milk, everywhere but his hands. His hands were black like Jafer's. Blossoms of hard cracked blood decorated the mortal wounds that covered him like a rash, breast and groin and throat. Yet his eyes were still open. They stared up at the sky, blue as sapphires. . . .

Sam mopped at the sweat on his brow. "You . . . you can see where Ghost . . . Jon's direwolf . . . you can see where he tore off that man's hand, and yet . . . the stump hasn't bled, look . . . " He waved a hand. "My father . . . L-lord Randyll, he, he made me watch him dress animals sometimes, when . . . after . . . " Sam shook his head from side to side, his chins quivering. Now that he had looked at the bodies, he could not seem to look away. "A fresh kill . . . the blood would still flow, my lords. Later . . . later it would be clotted, like a . . . a jelly, thick and . . . and . . . " He looked as though he was going to be sick. "This man . . . look at the wrist, it's all . . . crusty . . . dry . . . like . . . "

Jon saw at once what Sam meant. He could see the torn veins in the dead man's wrist, iron worms in the pale flesh. His blood was a black dust. Yet Jaremy Rykker was unconvinced. "If they'd been dead much longer than a day, they'd be ripe by now, boy. They don't even smell."

Dywen, the gnarled old forester who liked to boast that he could smell snow coming on, sidled closer to the corpses and took a whiff. "Well, they're no pansy flowers, but . . . m'lord has the truth of it. There's no corpse stink."

"They . . . they aren't rotting." Sam pointed, his fat finger shaking only a little. "Look, there's . . . there's no maggots or . . . or . . . worms or anything . . . they've been lying here in the woods, but they . . . they haven't been chewed or eaten by animals . . . only Ghost . . . otherwise they're . . . they're . . . "

"Untouched," Jon said softly. "And Ghost is different. The dogs and the horses won't go near them." . . .

"This . . . this is all wrong," Sam Tarly said earnestly. "The blood . . . there's bloodstains on their clothes, and . . . and their flesh, dry and hard, but . . . there's none on the ground, or . . . anywhere. With those . . . those . . . those . . . " Sam made himself swallow, took a deep breath. "With those wounds . . . terrible wounds . . . there should be blood all over. Shouldn't there?"

Dywen sucked at his wooden teeth. "Might be they didn't die here. Might be someone brought 'em and left 'em for us. A warning, as like." The old forester peered down suspiciously. "And might be I'm a fool, but I don't know that Othor never had no blue eyes afore."

Ser Jaremy looked startled. "Neither did Flowers," he blurted, turning to stare at the dead man. . . .

The day was grey, damp, overcast, the sort of day that made you wish for rain. No wind stirred the wood; the air hung humid and heavy, and Jon's clothes clung to his skin. It was warm. Too warm. The Wall was weeping copiously, had been weeping for days, and sometimes Jon even imagined it was shrinking. . . .

Bowen Marsh was waiting at the first gate as they led their garrons through the icy tunnel. . . .

A north wind had begun to blow by the time the sun went down. Jon could hear it skirling against the Wall and over the icy battlements as he went to the common hall for the evening meal. . . .

Later, much later, after they had marched him back to his sleeping cell, Mormont came down to see him, raven on his shoulder. "I told you not to do anything stupid, boy," the Old Bear said. "Boy," the bird chorused. Mormont shook his head, disgusted. "And to think I had high hopes for you."

They took his knife and his sword and told him he was not to leave his cell until the high officers met to decide what was to be done with him. And then they placed a guard outside his door to make certain he obeyed. His friends were not allowed to see him, but the Old Bear did relent and permit him Ghost, so he was not utterly alone.

"My father is no traitor," he told the direwolf when the rest had gone. Ghost looked at him in silence. Jon slumped against the wall, hands around his knees, and stared at the candle on the table beside his narrow bed. The flame flickered and swayed, the shadows moved around him, the room seemed to grow darker and colder. I will not sleep tonight, Jon thought.

Yet he must have dozed. When he woke, his legs were stiff and cramped and the candle had long since burned out. Ghost stood on his hind legs, scrabbling at the door. Jon was startled to see how tall he'd grown. "Ghost, what is it?" he called softly. The direwolf turned his head and looked down at him, baring his fangs in a silent snarl. Has he gone mad? Jon wondered. "It's me, Ghost," he murmured, trying not to sound afraid. Yet he was trembling, violently. When had it gotten so cold?

Ghost backed away from the door. There were deep gouges where he'd raked the wood. Jon watched him with mounting disquiet. "There's someone out there, isn't there?" he whispered. Crouching, the direwolf crept backward, white fur rising on the back of his neck. The guard, he thought, they left a man to guard my door, Ghost smells him through the door, that's all it is.

Slowly, Jon pushed himself to his feet. He was shivering uncontrollably, wishing he still had a sword.

 

[TheThreeEyedCow]

I think it's linked to magic use. As in, it is either the cost or the consequence of using magic. It pops up mainly in the East and when Dany finally gets her ass to Qarth, Xaro Xhoan Daxos tells her that there's ghost grass in Qarth too. It's them ruddy Warlocks I tells ya!
 

On 31/01/2018 at 1:45 AM, Texas Hold Em said:

 

1. How do you propose to stop the spread of this invasive weed? 
   Forbid magic use.
2. What keeps the weed in check now?
   Fire. Specifically, dragon flame.

 

 

[Jon Fossoway]

Could also be some sign posts that points 'this is where the world ends'. It's useful for world building. You get ghost grass in the far east and the Sunset Sea in the west, the shivering sea in the north and the secretive maps of the summer islands which hold what lies south. None of the former are trespassable.