The Castle of the Five Winds. (excerpted from the Duke O' Carmei'en chapter of Deposed aristocrats - where did they live? by Dr Partisan Nipple.) The Castle of the Five Winds is appropriately named. Originally it was a strong, square building made of stone that seemed impervious to any kind of harm, but over the centuries the fierce Hills wind has scoured it with loose debris so vigourously that the square corners have become rounded; grim windowsills are whittled into fluid shapes, and the iron doorknocker that once bore the likeness of a lion is now an uncultured snarl of silver-grey metal, polished to a high shine by the relentless gale. Wind from the sea competes with wind from the interior; the castle stands on a peninsula and three of its four sides command views of the Bathwater Ocean. Every crevice, every crack and gap in the structure is inhabited by one or more winds. The winds shriek, they howl, they moan and laugh and spend their nights shouting at one another to find out who can be the loudest. One wind cries, "I am," another wind screams, "Liar!" and then the first chases the second around the building in a furious, whirling race that ends with both parties grabbing handfuls of sand and rock and flinging them against the Castle's front door. The Duke's servants hear the wind knocking but they have learnt not to answer. Genuine visitors have, on occasion, been left out here, beating forlornly on the door, for almost an hour while inside the butler calmly polishes the ancestral silver with his white velveteen cloth and thinks, "It's that wind again." Old friends of the family have learnt the wisdom of carrying powerful whistles. See the Duke's Inhabitant's page.