The walls of the citadel are high. High enough, if not to thwart the climbing ENVOYS to at least buy time to rally a defence, and when walls are high, light is scarce. That’s why they built the SPIRE.
Few things in the world would dare to call themselves beautiful, but the killing tower might: An impossibly thin column of stone and glass with a pallid Tourmaline gem fixed atop.
Apart from the sunblood artificers who always get their share, the rest are condemned to bid and negotiate for the sunlight it reflects and focuses.
This is true:
Some prefer the light, some flee from it
Domains
Fire, Thirst and Heat, Perspiration on ragged sheets, The sound of creaking tin
Luck:
♦︎,
[no numbers], Sunrise, Sunset