Pebblebeck Mont

A pock-marked road lined with dim and worn statues of trees winds to the flat drive of a black stone keep which is not large and not small but sits at the edge of cultivated fields among the high, broken remains of old lava flow.

Deeper: When Carga was kidnapped in its youth by Then Spectre I'Trat, it was kept in Pebblebek Mont in a huddle of bodies both alive and not, all looking more or less the same in racial appearance, hair color and body shape, age. The small stone keep was, at the time, whole. A palatial entryway with a grand ro-fur rug, thin ivory ballisters and opal railings, a short turret on the west side, squat and repurposed by then Spectre I'Trat's bloodless servants to house his projects, and a florid suite on its eastern side where the charming nobleman lived in a forcefully quiet way with his wife, mother and permanently infant brother.
The building is set back from a precipice, and two of the balconies—great black rectangles guarded by the swiveling heads of eagles of animate stone—are built out at a cantilever over a field of perian tea bush. Green adders are hard to see but ever-present, resting on the bushes.
Carga's advisor, P. Gromp keeps a room in the downstairs of the Mont. Carga has bound Then Spectre I'Trat still-living head within a keeping jar of his former tormentor's own making alongside the grotesque remains of his mother and brother on a shelf upstairs where the morning sun can strike its always-open eyes time and time again.
I'Trat's wife, Melissa Mein Totin who enabled Carga's escape and revolt asked only for an immortal position in its household. She tends the tea bushes and collects and crafts a variety of pumice stones from nearby lava outcroppings which she uses to maintain her skin. Unground, it tends to dry and split like gills.
As Carga's control over its powers and its subterranean explorations have turned up more ancient artifacts, P. Gromp has begun to hoard its earnings in a black oak cask among the oil and water stores now kept in the turret. Among the collection of gifts and earnings in that cask is a box that it stole in a fitful moment of greed. In the box are three unmoving time keepers filled with colored sand and the ever-wet tongue of the Flayed Man. If a flame is carried in audible range of the tongue, the bearer will hear it tattling on P. Gromp, telepathically.
Naturally, because the tower's roof and fourth wall were burst forth in an explosion of scalding stone and left bare to the outside, there's no real need for torch or candle-light up there, much. And Carga hasn't gone back up since.