Frostborne Hall stood like a fortress of ice and stone, etched into the side of a towering cliff that overlooked the city below. Its walls, formed from the same mountain that held it, blended seamlessly into the landscape, creating an imposing structure that seemed a part of the frozen wilderness. The exterior was a blend of cold, grey stone and intricate frost formations, with battlements shimmering under layers of ice that reflected the light like a thousand diamonds. Icicles, long and sharp, clung to the towers, resembling the fangs of a great beast, poised and ever-watchful.
Above the massive iron gates, which appeared thick enough to withstand even the most ferocious of sieges, flew frost-encrusted banners bearing the unmistakable crest of the Frostborne family—a white wolf beneath a crescent moon. The family sigil was known far and wide, symbolizing the indomitable spirit of the Frostbornes, rulers of Arvindor's frozen south.
The Hall's towers were tall and jagged, piercing the sky like ice-tipped spears. Windows lined the outer walls in a narrow, defensive fashion, each one crafted with elegant designs of ice-laced glass, but placed with precision to offer minimal exposure to the outside elements. High above, watchmen could be seen patrolling the battlements, their breaths visible even from a distance because of the intense cold that never left this part of the world.
Inside, the Hall was just as grand as its exterior, but with a cold majesty that left visitors in awe. The entryway opened into a grand hall, the ceiling arching high above, with beams of frost-covered wood crisscrossing the length of it. Torches burned with a dim light along the walls, their light flickering against the stone, casting shadows that danced across the intricate carvings of wolves and winter scenes etched into the walls. Despite the grandeur, the temperature inside was only marginally warmer than the bitter cold outside, a reminder that this was a place where warmth was a luxury, not a necessity.
Massive chandeliers, crafted from iron and crystal, hung from the ceiling, their frosty decorations gleaming in the dim light. Beneath them, a long table stretched down the centre of the hall, capable of seating an entire army or the Frostborne family and their council during important meetings. The stone floor was polished to a dull sheen, its surface decorated with the family crest, each tile meticulously placed to form the grand symbol of the Frostbornes.
Tapestries adorned the walls, depicting tales of past victories, fierce battles in the frozen wastelands, and legendary figures from the Frostborne lineage. Their deep blues, whites, and silvers matched the wintry theme, yet the fabric had a strange warmth to it, as though the memories woven into it offered some respite from the ever-present cold.
Beyond the grand hall, Frostborne Hall expanded into a sprawling network of chambers, corridors, and hidden rooms, each carrying its own sense of cold majesty, yet distinct in their purpose and design.
Leading from the grand hall was the Grand Staircase, a wide, spiralling masterpiece carved directly into the stone of the mountain. The bannisters, made of polished iron and laced with frost, wound their way up to the upper floors of the castle. Icicle-shaped spires crowned the staircase, giving it an ethereal, almost haunting beauty. A soft glow from enchanted, ice-tipped sconces on the walls lit the way, casting a faint blue hue over the stone steps.
At the heart of the estate lay the Frostborne Throne Room, a vast chamber where the rulers of the family held court. The floor was laid with glacial blue tiles that sparkled underfoot, as if infused with the essence of ice itself. At the far end of the room stood the Frostborne Throne, hewn from pure ice and stone, and cushioned with fur. The throne glistened in the light of the overhead chandeliers, which were made of enchanted crystals, casting a cool light that reflected off every surface. Behind the throne, an enormous stained-glass window displayed the Frostborne crest, with frosted glass depicting the family's ancestral victories.
On the walls, more tapestries hung, woven with silver threads and depicting mythical creatures like ice drake, creatures that once roamed the wild regions of Arvindor's tundra. Braziers burned softly in the corners, their heat barely making a dent in the room's cold air, as even in the seat of power, the chill was omnipresent. The room's vaulted ceilings stretched upward, disappearing into shadows, the echoes of every footstep reverberating through the vast space. Just a step beneath the throne were two more chairs, made of some expensive material lay, looking at the front and one more step further down four more chairs where the elders of the family sat, listening to people.
Adjacent to the Throne Room were the Frostborne Archives, a vast library built into the mountain's depths separate from the library that was available to the public, where the accumulated knowledge of the Frostborne family was kept. The shelves, made of ancient, dark wood, stretched from floor to ceiling, each one covered with frost, and filled with scrolls, tomes, and ledgers bound in icy blue and silver covers. The archives were dimly lit by floating crystals that shimmered with faint white light, creating an almost otherworldly atmosphere.
Here, secrets of magic, family records, and ancient texts about the frozen lands of Arvindor were carefully guarded. The air was still, save for the occasional sound of the flicking pages of enchanted books that moved on their own, tidying themselves back into place. A heavy chill lingered in the room as the ancient spells keeping the archives intact resonated with the cold magic of the Frostbornes.
Deeper in the Hall was the War Room, a cold, heavily fortified chamber where the Frostborne strategized their military campaigns. A long, oval-shaped table dominated the centre of the room, its surface engraved with detailed maps of IronHold and its neighbouring regions. Miniature figures representing soldiers, armies, and war machines were positioned across the map, often moved around during strategic discussions.
The walls were lined with weapons and shields, each one an artifact from a past battle, mounted carefully to showcase the family's martial history. A large frosted window provided a breathtaking view of the surrounding frozen wilderness, though it was often overlooked in favour of the matters at hand. The room was dimly lit, with candles burning slowly in silver holders, casting flickering shadows over the worn faces of battle-hardened generals who once gathered here. The room carried an air of tense readiness, as if war could be declared at any moment.
Each member of the Frostborne family had their own private wing in the Hall. Erik's quarters, like the others, were elegantly minimalist, with a cold austerity that matched his personality. His chamber was spacious, with high ceilings and walls of grey stone. A large window overlooked the frozen plains of Arvindor, letting in a bleak but powerful light that bathed the room in a cold glow.
The beds were enormous and positioned against the far wall, beneath a tapestry depicting the family's ancestors or whatever the quarter owner desired. The room held little in the way of personal decoration, save for a few books on a small, frost-covered shelf and a desk carved from dark wood. A fireplace stood to the side, though it was rarely used. The air in Erik's quarters was always cold, as he preferred the chill of his homeland to any artificial warmth.
Beneath the Hall, deep within the mountain, lay the Family Crypt, where generations of Frostbornes were entombed. The crypt was a solemn, icy cavern, its walls glittering with frost and crystals. Each tomb was a masterwork, carved from stone and encased in a layer of ice that never melted. Statues of long-dead family members stood vigil over their resting places, their features chiselled with the same cold precision that characterized the family's legacy.
The air here was so cold that the breath turned to ice almost immediately. It was said that only those of true Frostborne blood could withstand the chill of the crypt for long periods. The ceiling of the cavern was studded with crystals, catching the dim light from enchanted flames, casting an eerie glow over the rows of stone sarcophagi.
Surprisingly, deep within the Hall was a space known as the Frost Gardens—an indoor garden where hardy plants from the frozen lands were kept alive through a combination of magic and careful tending. Icicle flowers, blue frost roses, and snow lilies bloomed here in crystal vases, their beauty a stark contrast to the cold, grey stone surrounding them.
The garden was not vast but intimate, with winding paths that led through patches of frozen greenery. It was a place of quiet reflection, where the Frostbornes could retreat from the pressures of ruling, though it was a rare sanctuary for only a few. The air was still cold, but the presence of life here offered a rare respite from the Hall's otherwise unrelenting frost.
The Frostborne Armoury was another key part of the Hall, where weapons and armour, crafted by the best smiths in Avaloria, were stored. The walls of the armoury were lined with rows of armour, each one adorned with the Frostborne crest, and weapons of all kinds—swords, spears, hammers, and axes—hung in perfect order. Some were enchanted, glowing faintly with blue magic that added to their lethality.
The centrepiece of the armoury was the Frostborne Family Armour, a suit of pure white Admantite, mixed with frost Eythrum, designed for the patriarch of the family. It stood on a pedestal in the centre of the room, surrounded by other relics of battle.
This was the overall of Frostborne Hall, the Home of Frostbornes.