Casterly Rock, the capital of the Westerlands, was a city carved within stone itself.
This colossal rock fortress stood at the edge of the sea. Over time, the waves had hollowed out the base of the seaside cliff, creating an enormous cavern. When the tides rolled in, seawater surged into the hollow, producing a deep, thunderous roar like that of distant storms. Above this rocky cavern stood the Hall of Heroes, a sacred tomb belonging to House Lannister.
Only members of House Lannister, or their close kin, who had achieved extraordinary feats were honored with burial in the Hall of Heroes. Within it stood the statues of a hundred Lannister knights, lords, and kings, all clad in lavish armor, their stone gazes ever vigilant in eternal defense of Casterly Rock. The Hall of Heroes was famous across the Seven Kingdoms, even spoken of across the Narrow Sea.
The coastal rock upon which the fortress was built stood two hundred feet tall, about seventy meters, or the height of a twenty-three-story building by Earth's standards. It stretched nearly twenty miles east to west and fifteen miles north to south. From the ground, only a single tower and a watch post could be seen rising from the rock's summit, the rest of the city was concealed within the natural stone exterior.
Humans had dwelled inside this rock for thousands of years.
Centuries ago, gold was discovered in its depths, and extensive mining began. Over the millennia, hundreds of shafts were carved deep into the stone, hollowing out its heart. Though some red and yellow veins of gold still remained, they were no longer worth the effort of extraction. House Casterly was the first to convert the old mine shafts into halls and chambers. After building the first fortress atop the rock, they began transforming the deep tunnels into rooms and corridors.
Legend holds that during the Age of Heroes, a clever trickster named Lann the Clever swindled Casterly Rock from House Casterly using nothing but his wits. Lann would go on to become the legendary founder of House Lannister.
Generations later, Lann's descendants became so numerous that they filled the still largely unconverted rock fortress. Some of the younger branches moved to a nearby village beside a natural harbor. Over the centuries, that settlement flourished through trade and eventually grew into what is now known as Lannisport, the third-largest port city on the continent of Westeros.
Today, the great seaside rock has been completely hollowed out, transformed into a multi-leveled city of winding roads and tiered structures. Within its stone heart lies a labyrinth of corridors, dungeons, storerooms, barracks, grand halls, stables, staircases, courtyards, septs, balconies, and gardens, everything a city could need.
At the base of the rock, three massive entrances known as the Lion's Mouths had been carved into the stone. These were the only ways in or out of Casterly Rock. The central mouth was the largest, wide enough for twenty horses to ride through. It connected to the Goldroad, the Searoad, and the Riverlands Road, allowing smooth passage into the city.
When the sun cast its light on the giant rock, the shadow it threw upon the land resembled a reclining lion. Thus, Casterly Rock became known as the Lion's City, and its gates were named the Lion's Mouths. House Lannister adopted the lion as their sigil, a golden lion roaring upon a crimson field. Their official motto: Hear Me Roar!. But the phrase more commonly heard across Westeros was their unofficial one: A Lannister always pays his debts, a saying more famous than their actual words.
The current Lord of Casterly Rock, Tywin Lannister, was born in the year 242 AC. At fifty-six years old, he held the titles of Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West, and Shield of Lannisport. He had begun losing his hair at fifty and chose to shave his head completely, leaving only thick golden mutton chops on his cheeks. His light green eyes sparkled with flecks of gold, a trait the nobles said symbolized his wealth. Tywin favored deep crimson, and his armor was forged in that color. Consequently, the warriors of the Westerlands also wore crimson armor and cloaks, earning the name Redcloak Army.
Inside the great keep of Casterly Rock, Tywin was skinning a massive black bear, a trophy from a recent hunt in the eastern mountains. His blade moved with practiced ease, peeling the hide away in one unbroken sheet.
As Tywin washed the blood from his hands in a golden basin, Grand Maester Pycelle entered the room.
"My lord." he said, bowing. "I've just received a letter and a gift from Maester Harry."
Maester Harry was Pycelle's young apprentice in the Westerlands, not yet twenty years of age and still untested by the Citadel's official exams.
"Read it." Tywin commanded.
His tone was stern and cold. He had not smiled once in the twenty-five years since his wife, Joanna Lannister, died in childbirth in 273 AC, the same day their youngest son, Tyrion, was born. That tragic day had turned Tywin's heart to stone.
"Yes, my lord."
Pycelle read the letter aloud, then glanced anxiously at Tywin's face for any sign of reaction.
The letter reported that after paying a ransom in gold for the captured Ser Ado Serrett, Allen Serrett of Silverhill had sent four casks of Arbor wine as a gift. Ser Gregor Clegane, wary of treachery, had insisted that Allen and his four guards taste the wine first. All five of them died, poisoned by a deadly substance known as "Strangler." according to Maester Harry.
Shortly afterward, thirty mercenary horsemen ambushed Clegane's castle from the nearby woods. Ser Gregor led a counterattack and slaughtered them all, seizing twenty-three horses, eleven suits of armor, and dozens of swords and axes.
Ser Gregor now sought Tywin's instruction, should he retaliate, or return the weapons and armor to House Serrett? Gregor believed that the assassination attempt and ambush might not have been ordered by the main branch of House Serrett. The attackers were not Serrett men, and the scheme likely originated with Allen Serrett, the captain of the guard to the now-deceased Alva Serrett. Allen himself was only distantly related to the main family line.
Tywin dried his hands carefully as a servant offered him a snow-white towel.
"What was the gift?" he asked.
"Salt." the Grand Maester replied.
Tywin paused, hand still mid-motion. "Bring it to me."
Salt was a valuable commodity among common folk, some poor households couldn't afford it at all. But to Tywin Lannister, it was trivial. Gregor would never send salt as a mere gift, there had to be something more.
"I already have it here." said Pycelle.
He opened a finely crafted wooden box. Inside, a bundle wrapped in delicate parchment lay tied with a neat bow, clearly the work of a woman's hand. Untying the ribbon, he unrolled the parchment to reveal a piece of silver silk. When the cloth was unfolded, both Tywin and the Grand Maester were momentarily stunned.
Within it lay a heap of salt, white as fresh snow, glittering like crushed crystal. It was unlike anything they had ever seen.
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