There was a school, a special school, one meant primarily for nobles and families of royal blood, though other students were able to earn their way in through hard work. It was surrounded by an imposing, but decorative, wall and large, wrought-iron gates with a massive crest emblazoned. Inside the gated place was a massive school with comfortable dorms, a huge series of gardens and forested areas, it was a school almost larger than a full-sized palace. But there was a difference here. All of the students, and the majority of the instructors, were Tieflings. -- Anon Guest
On the outside, it was grim, grey, and imposing. The glimpses of architecture that loomed above the tall, sheer walls and their spiked parapets did not look all that inviting. Even the gates were grey. Old oak bounded in wrought iron that had been there so long that it had petrified, or so local legend said. The crest on it looked like an afterthought. Added, somehow, some years after the wood had turned to stone.
You couldn't even climb that, as it was a cruelly-rendered work of art. Just to look at it was to cut one's eyes on the bladed edges. Assuming, of course, that one actually wanted to get in.
Coaches go in. Boxed palanquins go in. Hooded figures, too, with anxious stance and tight fists on pieces of paper. Guards walk the upper walls, all with imposing armour and helms embellished with horns. Children are threatened with being sent there if they are bad.