Eaststorm Keep

The wind rises up the tall stone walls of the keep, giant, foreboding waves crashing against the charcoal coloured rocks below. The smell of salt and smoke reach the nose of anyone who wanders near. The initial façade serves as a representation of the once grandiose quality of the North. A pair of conical roofed towers reach up many flights, holding in their arms of pale leafed vines, a simple stone castle wall. The stone is somehow darker than it was before, the slate stone having turned into the charcoal color of the rocks below. Overall, the keep is a thing that was once, perhaps, quite spectacular, but now holds the remains of a dead culture. The combination of waves, towers, and castle walls serving less as an imposition and more as a suggestion of the past.