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"The locals here call it the Tower of Death. You can imagine why."
Goban, Ys Book I

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Atop a craggy peak high in the Transylvania Alps broods the sinister castle known as Ceoris. Mightiest eastern fortress of the Tremere, its stark face rises from the very ribs of the grey mountain, sweeping upward into contorted spires. Carved from the rock itself, Ceoris's northward-facing towers cast long shadows over the lands below. Once home to a covenant of House Tremere, magi of the Order of Hermes, Ceoris now houses the archmagi who embraced immortality by transforming themselves into Cainites. Where mortals once whispered fearfully of the "devil's school," few now dare to speak its name at all.
Vampire: The Dark Ages - Transylvania By Night

There was no comprehending how enormous the Tower really was, until you stood at its feet. You could have fit the entire ruins at the Blessed Isle inside its walls, and it was so tall I couldn’t even see the top of it. The stone stairs leading up to the gates were carved into the likeness of weeping men and women, every step taken coming squarely on their backs. Charming. Was there such a thing as an evil architect? The sight before me was an argument in favour. Twin rows of steel-clad soldiers stood in perfect silence on the sides of the steps, faces covered by masks of wrought black iron. No wonder they all go mad. How could you live in that without coming to think of yourself as a god?

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Lena Korolev: Look! Over there, on the skyline. No matter where we go, it's always there, watching us.
The Doctor: The Somnus Tower. It's an astounding piece of architecture, isn't it? Difficult to believe something so beautiful could conceal such malignance...

"The architectural style is Early Maniac."
Vila Restal, Blake's 7, "Cygnus Alpha"

Deadgrave's doom fortress looked exactly like doom fortresses are supposed to look: a big gnashing skull from the front, and a great sprawling insect from above. Veins of obsidian ran across shiny black marble. Black pipes and black chimneys placed randomly around the black roof and walls emitted occasional bursts of decorative black flame. The tallest tower (black), which I took an immediate interest in, was a magnificent hundred-foot affair studded with black stone gargoyles, of the kind of terrifying hideousness that has to be specially imported from countries with higher suicide rates.

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At the very centre of the city, a single cloud-piercing tower reaches towards the heavens above a great temple. At the top of the tower, a monstrous belfry lies at the very edge of sight, circled endlessly by dark shapes. The all-enshrouding mists coil closely about this unholy place, as if to hide it from the affrighted gaze of the world. This is the Temple of the Horned Rat, site of the Skaven's first and greatest act of corruption. Once of gleaming white marble, its cracked and pitted surface is blacked with the smoke of forge and sacrifice. its vaulted aisles ring with chittered devotions, its ruined chapels echo with unholy communion. This is the birthplace of the Skaven, the heart of their dark Under-Empire.
Warhammer: Skaven Army Book (4th edition)

For more than a thousand years, the dark, burning spire of the Black Fortress has stood sentinel over the crossing place of the River Ruin at the southern edge of the Mountains of Mourn and guarded the border of the Chaos Dwarf empire of ash and suffering. It is a nightmarish place of soot, blackened iron and jagged rock, and burning magma runs through it like lifeblood. For centuries, the master of this dark demesne and the warriors and slave that inhabit it has been Drazhoath the Ashen, a twisted, power-hungry creature and potent sorcerer. Drazhoath was first sent to the Black Forest in effective exile after losing favour in the brutal politics of Zharr-Naggrund as a minor Hellsmith, but has since risen to become its lord through his innate cunning and bitter ruthless ambition...

Somewhere, in the North Atlantic, far from any land, there lies a lighthouse. Some claim it's a ghost structure, built of ectoplasmic bricks and that glimmering light at its peak is fueled by the fires of Hell! They call this baleful black beacon the Phantom Lighthouse. Lord help the lost ship that wanders into these waters unaware - for suddenly, compasses spin awry and radios fill with static. Then the Phantom Lighthouse looms suddenly in the mist.
To set eyes upon it (so it's said) is to meet most certain death. The waters around the black tower are awash with the splinters of broken boats. The air around it echoes with the shrieks of dying sailors and the keening wails of unholy, misshapen creatures that feed on human flesh.
—"Back To The Frozen Triangle," by Carleton Rede, Bioshock 2: There's Something In The Sea


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