Black Sarith's Tower

The tower of Willem Cole is an enormous edifice of living stone, raised from the very roughlands themselves. It is an impossibly high, narrow spire that reaches up, piercing the sky. It’s very top is visible only on the clearest days; otherwise it is shrouded in dark cloud. The Black Sarith's Tower seems almost a brutal, fortress-like mockery of the High Warlock’s Tower to the southeast in the Forest, and is topped by an broad, flat area surrounded with nine immense standing stones at the outer edges. The tower rises up like nothing more than an immense claw, grasping at thew sky.

The massive stone pillar is catacombed with chambers, vaults and halls, and little or none of it has been seen by the eyes of any man other than it’s sinister occupant, however on the outside of the tower, the only entrance is via a steep stairway that corkscrews its way all the way to the very top of the tower. This mountainous ascent can take a fit man upwards of an hour to climb. At the top of the tower, amongst the standing stones is an enormous stone portal with no viable mechanism for the thing to be opened, carved all over with arcane sigils that activate the spell that grants entry to the tower.

Around the base of the tower there is a perpetual tent-town of sycophants and cultists on pilgrimage. While there is no industry and little trade there is always enough traffic that the place sustains itself. For his part Cole seems to pay little or no attention to this little transient community, but does nothing to either encourage or discourage its presence. As a result there is no way to approach the tower unobserved, and certainly no way for one uninitiated in the arcane arts gain access to the interior of the tower itself. When the Black Sarith does deign to give an audience to a visitor he meets them on the flat area at the top of the tower, as a result no one is known to have ever passed the portal into the Black Sarith’s inner sanctum.

A few things have made their homes in the domain of Willem Cole, possibly in his service or possibly not. Two great Giants clad all in Goblyn-forged mail with mauls the size of wagons guard the base of the stair to the top of the tower at all times, and a small tribe has devoted all of it’s warriors to this task, cycling them with uncharacteristic military precision, and other, darker creatures also make their homes here. Little winged creatures the size of a large hound cling to the rocky sides of the spire wit razor sharp claws, or squat gargoyle-like on jagged outcroppings. At night they drop from the sides and glide down into the night, only to return in the morning, and make a scuttling, rasping ascent back to their perches. Many a careless pilgrim has fallen victim to a pack of these creatures swooping down from above to devour him alive, and people even whisper that men made up of only smoke and shadows stalk the base of the tower, vanishing when anyone tries to look directly at them, flitting always in and out of view at the corner of men's vision. An evil place of dire peril, only the foolish venture too close.