Andra / White Walkers
Det behövs bara en annan (White Walker) hud, men du har bättre tid på din sida om det kommer att döda dem ...
And then he was stumbling forward, falling more than running, really, closing his eyes and shoving the dagger blindly out before him with both hands. He heard a crack, like the sound ice makes when it breaks beneath a man's foot, and then a screech so shrill and sharp that he went staggering backward with his hands over his muffled ears, and fell hard on his arse.
When he opened his eyes the Other's armor was running down its legs in rivulets as pale blue blood hissed and steamed around the black dragonglass dagger in its throat. It reached down with two bone-white hands to pull out the knife, but where its fingers touched the obsidian they smoked.
Sam rolled onto his side, eyes wide as the Other shrank and puddled, dissolving away. In twenty heartbeats its flesh was gone, swirling away in a fine white mist. Beneath were bones like milkglass, pale and shiny, and they were melting too. Finally only the dragonglass dagger remained, wreathed in steam as if it were alive and sweating. Grenn bent to scoop it up and flung it down again at once. "Mother, that's cold."
A Storm of Swords - Samwell I
Vi ser att rena röra på dolkan gör att Andras hud röker, medan "döende" de smälter / brinner bort, och det tar tjugo hjärtslag för att allt kött ska vara borta.
Så, ärligt, om du ska försöka ta ner ett annat, skulle det vara bäst att knäcka det; annars kommer du att försöka trycka dragonglassen mot huden under ganska lång tid och förmodligen ingenstans nära så effektiv ...
Wights
Om du händer över en wight skulle du tro att dragonglass skulle fungera som de kommer från samma plats.
The dragonglass dagger had melted the pale thing in the woods, true . . . but Grenn was talking like it would do the same to the wights. We don't know that, he thought. We don't know anything, really.
A Storm of Swords - Samwell II
Men när Sam attackeras av en wight, bekräftar hans dragonglas ingenting och senare Melisandre detta.
Sam cleared his throat. "S-sire. The dagger . . . the dragonglass only shattered when I tried to stab a wight."
Melisandre smiled. "Necromancy animates these wights, yet they are still only dead flesh. Steel and fire will serve for them. The ones you call the Others are something more."
A Storm of Swords - Samwell V
Men , Sam slog aldrig faktiskt på huden på vägen. Han glömmer att bladet förstördes av rustningen som den döde hade på sig.
There was no time to think or pray or be afraid. Samwell Tarly threw himself forward and plunged the dagger down into Small Paul's back. Half-turned, the wight never saw him coming. The raven gave a shriek and took to the air. "You're dead!" Sam screamed as he stabbed. "You're dead, you're dead." He stabbed and screamed, again and again, tearing huge rents in Paul's heavy black cloak. Shards of dragonglass flew everywhere as the blade shattered on the iron mail beneath the wool.
A Storm of Swords - Samwell III
I slutändan skulle jag tendera att vara överens med Melisandre men bara för att stål och eld kommer att göra bättre mot rustningen som kläderna har på sig. Medan de andra har sin egen rustning, kommer vikarna att vara utrustade med vad som helst som vände sig på när de dog.