The Godswood is always a quiet place, in any castle -North or South-, few people visit them, there is no holy men and women to read prayers or host a mess, no candles to be lit, no bells to be rang, not even floors to sweep.

The Old Gods like silence.

The air in the Godswood feels cool and heavy even, a thin veil of mist that made the grass wet with dew overnight, no birds scream, no squirrels chirp, they are here, but you do not see them, do not hear them, nothing breaks the tranquility of the Godswood, only your steps shuffling through the wet grass and moist fallen leaves.

There, on the clearing of the grove, stands the habitat of the Gods - the heart tree: the great beast of a tree, wide and white of trunk, traced with thin dark lines like aching stretches on skin, its large roots stick out of the ground and curve, some thick enough to sit on, its crown is red, leaves resemble bloodied hands, and yet the weirdest part of a weirwood tree is always the face. Some trees grimace in silent scream, others have one eye 'closed' with overgrowth of bark, third cry with tears of bloody sap. Your tree seems more 'neutral' in its expression, merely staring into the world with its carved eyes, its mouth forever shut in a thin line never to speak.

The Old Gods don't speak.

And yet, as you come forth before the heart tree, it seems your ears hear something, something so quiet, so illusive, that it takes great effort to even catch its trace. A whisper on the wind. If you turn around, nobody is there, at least you see no one, but the heart tree sees you with its unseeing eyes carved into the bark, its mouth still shut, just like it always will be. Even if the tree has mouth and eyes, it cannot speak, cannot blink... right?

No matter.

You stand before the Gods.

Remember - the Old Gods see all, they see your heart, nothing can you hide from them, so say your prayers, share your grievances, ask for guidance, and let the Gods decide.