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Accidental sacrifice


TheSamsa

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Did Ramsay Bolton sacrifice unknowingly 63 ironmen, so Jon could convince 63 wildlings from mole town to help the watch out?

Quote

Reek II

The next morning Lord Ramsay dispatched three riders down the causeway to take word to his lord father that the way was clear. The flayed man of House Bolton was hoisted above the Gatehouse Tower, where Reek had hauled down the golden kraken of Pyke. Along the rotting-plank road, wooden stakes were driven deep into the boggy ground; there the corpses festered, red and dripping. Sixty-three, he knew, there are sixty-three of them. One was short half an arm. Another had a parchment shoved between its teeth, its wax seal still unbroken.

and the chapter after this

Quote

Jon V

By the time the last withered apple had been handed out, the wagons were crowded with wildlings, and they were sixty-three stronger than when the column had set out from Castle Black that morning.

 

Are there other accidental sacrifices? Or very odd connections between numbers? Does 63 have any special meaning?

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Yep, I think you are onto something.

Also:

Dany encounters One hundred and sixty-three dead children on the way to Meereen, and demands one hundred and sixty-three great masters be executed after the sucessful siege.

The Storm Dancer has sixty men on the oars, with Moreo, Catelyn and Ser Rodrick taking the total to sixty-three.

The Iron Fleet is sixty-one ships as Victarion sacrifices the slave-girls of Willing Maiden/Slaver's Scream, and the unnamed ketch. Victarion is still a couple of days sail from Meereen, and could easily gain another three ships, either by capture or by some of the stragglers catching up to the fleet. After all, they were only fifty-three when they left the Isle of Cedars.

Between sixty and seventy black brothers cut free of the fort at the Fist of the First Men, although only forty-four arrived at Crasters.

Between sixty and seventy Thenns were burnt to death on the steps of the Wall in the battle at Castle Black, including the Magnar himself.

Seventy minus seven seems to me to be at least as significant a number as seventy plus seven, although worshippers of the Seven clearly regard the latter as a lucky number, and show no interest in the former as far as I can see. 

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Outside the armory, Ser Endrew Tarth was working with some raw recruits. They'd come in last night with Conwy, one of the wandering crows who roamed the Seven Kingdoms collecting men for the Wall. This new crop consisted of a greybeard leaning on a staff, two blond boys with the look of brothers, a foppish youth in soiled satin, a raggy man with a clubfoot, and some grinning loon who must have fancied himself a warrior. Ser Endrew was showing him the error of that presumption. He was a gentler master-at-arms than Ser Alliser Thorne had been, but his lessons would still raise bruises. Sam winced at every blow, but Jon Snow watched the swordplay closely.

 

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      Catelyn could scarcely imagine what she might need that had not already been provided. The pavilion was larger than the common rooms of many an inn and furnished with every comfort: feather mattress and sleeping furs, a wood-and-copper tub large enough for two, braziers to keep off the night's chill, slung leather camp chairs, a writing table with quills and inkpot, bowls of peaches, plums, and pears, a flagon of wine with a set of matched silver cups, cedar chests packed full of Renly's clothing, books, maps, game boards, a high harp, a tall bow and a quiver of arrows, a pair of red-tailed hunting hawks, a vertible armory of fine weapons. He does not stint himself, this Renly, she thought as she looked about. Small wonder this host moves so slowly.

Everything you need has been provided?(Small wonder this book writes so slowly?)((Host is another subject))

 
So where's the bread?"
 
"Fuck, we need bowls, cups, spoons—"
"No you don't." Rorge heaved the scalding hot broth across the table, full in their faces. Jaqen H'ghar did the same. Biter threw his kettles too, swinging them underarm so they spun across the dungeon, raining soup. One caught the captain in the temple as he tried to rise. He went down like a sack of sand and lay still. The rest were screaming in agony, praying, or trying to crawl off.
Once freed, the captives stripped the dead guards of their weapons and darted up the steps with steel in hand. Their fellows crowded after them, bare-handed. They went swiftly, and with scarcely a word. None of them seemed quite so badly wounded as they had when Vargo Hoat had marched them through the gates of Harrenhal. "This of the soup, that was clever," the man Glover was saying. "I did not expect that. Was it Lord Hoat's idea?"

Rorge began to laugh. He laughed so hard that snot flew out the hole where his nose had been. Biter sat on top of one of the dead men, holding a limp hand as he gnawed at the fingers. Bones cracked between his teeth.

     
    It’s taken me forever to see what little I think is being played. Almost every character is a part of the games,and playing their own game. Card games, board games, kissing game? (Wouldn’t it be funny if Vargo Hoat was playing the kissing game?), maybe even tic-tax-toe. The only reason I saw some of it is because I collect antique tarot’s cards. No idea if I am correct. I’m sure someone has posted it. Makes you think of why Rorge laughs and why was Rob so mad at his uncle Edmure for not following 0rders.



This is no longer a game for two players, if ever it was. Stannis Baratheon and Lysa Arryn have fled beyond my reach, and the whispers say they are gathering swords around them. The Knight of Flowers writes Highgarden, urging his lord father to send his sister to court. The girl is a maid of fourteen, sweet and beautiful and tractable, and Lord Renly and Ser Loras intend that Robert should bed her, wed her, and make a new queen. Littlefinger … the gods only know whatgame Littlefinger is playing. 

 

 

The bold little boy with wild black hair and laughing eyes was a man grown now, one-and-twenty, and still he played his games. Look at me, I'm a king, Cressen thought sadly. Oh, Renly, Renly, dear sweet child, do you know what you are doing? And would you care if you did? 

.

It is real, all of it, he thought, the wars, the intrigues, the great bloody game, and me in the center of it . . . me, the dwarf, the monster, the one they scorned and laughed at, but now I hold it all, the power, the city, the girl. This was what I was made for, and gods forgive me, but I do love it . . 

 
 
Maegor the Cruel decreed four levels of dungeons for his castle," Varys replied. "On the upper level, there are large cells where common criminals may be confined together. They have narrow windows set high in the walls. The second level has the smaller cells where highborn captives are held. They have no windows, but torches in the halls cast light through the bars. On the third level the cells are smaller and the doors are wood. The black cells, men call them. That was where you were kept, and Eddard Stark before you. But there is a level lower still. Once a man is taken down to the fourth level, he never sees the sun again, nor hears a human voice, nor breathes a breath free of agonizing pain. Maegor had the cells on the fourth level built for torment." They had reached the bottom of the steps. An unlighted door opened before them. "This is the fourth level. Give me your hand, my lord. It is safer to walk in darkness here. There are things you would not wish to see."
Tyrion hung back a moment. Varys had already betrayed him once. Who knew what game the eunuch was playing?
 
 
 
What answer does he want? Must I promise him gold we do not have? A highborn husband for his daughter's daughter? Lands, honors, titles? Lord Alester Florent had tried to play that game, and the king had burned him for it.
 
 
 
The day had come. It was the hour of the wolf. Soon enough the sun would rise, and four thousand wildlings would come pouring through the Wall. Madness. Jon Snow ran his burned hand through his hair and wondered once again what he was doing. Once the gate was opened there would be no turning back. It should have been the Old Bear to treat with Tormund. It should have been Jaremy Rykker or Qhorin Halfhand or Denys Mallister or some other seasoned man. It should have been my uncle. It was too late for such misgivings, though. Every choice had its risks, every choice its consequences. He would play the game to its conclusion.
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On 9/17/2021 at 12:36 PM, Mad King Bolton said:

nice find.  I haven't seen mention of this before.  What was the timing between the mentions?  I'm just into Dance for the second time doing a reread so won't be too far off coming across this.  I wonder...

The Jon chapter follows directly the Reek chapter.

 

On 9/17/2021 at 7:59 PM, Lord Lannister said:

That's.... an odd pattern and one I haven't seen before. I'm not sure it meets anything. It could be as simple as someone being asked to select a number at random several times and their mind coming up with the same number again and again.

and

9 hours ago, Lord Lannister said:

Sometimes I do think people are trying so hard to be the one to find something new that they see patterns in little or nothing.

yea this is entirely possible this does not mean anything at all and possibly has no deeper meaning

But since those chapters are adjacent in the order it feels like something deliberately layed out to be seen.

 

On 9/17/2021 at 3:33 PM, Walda said:

Yep, I think you are onto something.

Also:

Dany encounters One hundred and sixty-three dead children on the way to Meereen, and demands one hundred and sixty-three great masters be executed after the sucessful siege.

The Storm Dancer has sixty men on the oars, with Moreo, Catelyn and Ser Rodrick taking the total to sixty-three.

The Iron Fleet is sixty-one ships as Victarion sacrifices the slave-girls of Willing Maiden/Slaver's Scream, and the unnamed ketch. Victarion is still a couple of days sail from Meereen, and could easily gain another three ships, either by capture or by some of the stragglers catching up to the fleet. After all, they were only fifty-three when they left the Isle of Cedars.

Between sixty and seventy black brothers cut free of the fort at the Fist of the First Men, although only forty-four arrived at Crasters.

Between sixty and seventy Thenns were burnt to death on the steps of the Wall in the battle at Castle Black, including the Magnar himself.

Seventy minus seven seems to me to be at least as significant a number as seventy plus seven, although worshippers of the Seven clearly regard the latter as a lucky number, and show no interest in the former as far as I can see. 

I also thought of Dany's one hundred and sixty-three master/slaves nailed to a post, she also frequently thinks about this. The only connection I possibly see is the election of Jon as Lord Commander. But I need to check those numbers, maybe Dany sacrifices 136 masters to get Jon elected? At least it would be in the same part of the book if I am not mistaken.

If the Storm Dancers crew is related, I doubt. Catelyn payed the captain sixty coins for the crew, and not sixty-three, it emphasizes those are seperate.

The pattern 'seventy minus seven' on the other hand is a nice catch. I guess it represents something working against the faith of the seven.

Also, Barristan Selmy is sixty-three, no idea what to to with this.

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  • 2 weeks later...

The 63 that he used in one scene was still unknowingly in the back of his mind when he wrote the other scene. He never noticed that he used the same number twice. And why would he? It doesn't matter whether its 63 or 64.

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