Ghrond

In the absolute north stands the slender spire of Ghrond. Known also as the Tower of Prophecy, this is the domain of Malekith's mother, the beautiful seeress Morathi. From Ghrond's pinnacle, Sorceresses of the Dark Convent can see through the snowstorms that whip about the ever-shifting Realm of Chaos. It is said that the patterns of change therein hold the secrets of fate and that all the mysteries of the world are laid bared to she who dares look. Every day, black-clad riders gallop from the tower of Ghrond bearing prophecies southward to Naggarond. These foretell auspicious moments in which the Witch King will meet with success, or carry warnings of an enemy's growing power.

Morathi rules Ghrond without compromise and does not tolerate interference from outside. It is one thing for the Hag Sorceress to support Malekith in his rule but quite another for her to accept it herself. The Witch King tolerates his mother's small rebellion so long as her tithes are promptly delivered and generous in scope -- and generous they are, for the mines beneath Ghrond have ever been rich in gold, silver and gemstones of all kinds. Even after thousands of years, there remains sufficient wealth buried beneath Ghrond to buy the loyalty of every Elf in Naggaroth.

Ghrond is legendary as a luxurious palace of decadence, not just in Naggaroth but in many distant lands also. The tales are rendered all the more alluring by a law that forbids male Elves from entering its inner sanctums, save at Morathi's decree. Those few who are admitted are at once the most cursed and blessed of mortals, for their lives -- their deaths -- serve only the Hag Sorceress' pleasure. For those who do not catch Morathi's eye, there is only a life of battle against the horrors of the northern wastes. Daemons, monsters and worshipers of the Chaos Gods are drawn constantly to Ghrond and to the heady broth of sorcery and excess that flows about its walls. The defense of Ghrond is therefore a near-ceaseless battle, fraught with danger and privation. Yet the Dark Elves who defend the ramparts never consider desertion to softer lands. Captivated by Morathi's beauty and their own desires, they are as much slaves to the Hag Sorceress as the wretches who toil in the mines below.

Source

 * Warhammer Armies: Dark Elves (8th Edition) -- pg. 10