Fifteen stories and a rooftop crowned with a parapet of spikes, built of dark stone and dark iron, it stood every bit the testament to his might that Forgath had desired.  Within its dread walls was the seat of power for the growing town; not merely the chambers and personal forges of Forgath himself, but the administrative center from which he could command the forces and workings of the city, aided by his trusted advisors and a small-yet-growing series of scribes, record keepers and the like.  The first three floors of the tower had already been taken over by rooms filled with stone desks, uncomfortable chairs, and the smell of ink.