The top of the lighthouse was more spacious than it appeared from below. A ghostly grey fire burned in a wide metal bowl suspended from the cupola, but its wispy flames provided no light or heat.

  "How's that?" said Morg, dumbfounded.

  "Sir Halwyn's been here a long time," explained Denna. "It's mostly his memory of it, I gather." She was taller than Stump expected, dwarfing Morg by nearly two feet. She was slender, and dressed in leather dyed various shades of green and blue. A mail cuirass rested near her adventurer's pack off to the side of the bowl.

  "We're looking at a memory?" Stump pressed, equally as befuddled.

  Sir Halwyn ignored the three of them. He pacified quickly after their encounter below, and now stood at the ghostly fire, prodding it with a ghostly poker, shifting the ghostly logs and pulling his ghostly cloak tight about his ghostly shoulders. He was humming ghostily.

  "Something like that. He's trapped in the time before he died, I think. It's why he thinks Jaessun's still out there, fighting Lumensa. He seems content tending his fire, but if things go awry or someone drops by unannounced… well, you saw what happened."

  "Your presence doesn't bother him?" asked Stump.

  "It did at first," she said, looking out to sea. "Our boat tipped just offshore. The two I was with died in the water and I swam to the safety of the lighthouse, but he was furious I was here. It was only when I agreed to help him light his signal that he softened on me."

  Halwyn shushed them. "Keep your wits about you," he said. "I'll have the fire bright enough soon, then Seabrace can flee before the battle starts."

  Stump shuffled closer to Denna. He leaned in, and whispered into her thigh. "What happens if you tell him he's dead? Or that Lumensa died a long time ago?"

  She shrugged. "Nothing. It's like he doesn't know what you're saying. He's just caught forever in his quest to light the beacon."

  A breeze scaled the tower and swirled beneath the cupola. Stump shrank away from the ledge and shivered. His damp cloak dripped onto the floor.

  "Oh, how rude of me," said Denna. She squatted next to her pack and rummaged through, producing two smooth black stones. She tossed one to Morg, and handed the other to Stump. "It's been some time since I've used them, so I can't be sure they still work."

  Stump turned it over. The dark stone sparkled like the night sky. One side was etched with a symbol he couldn't decipher. "What is it?"

  "Thermal Stones," she said, as if nothing could be more obvious. "My father received them as a gift from a trader out of Nevae. You just need to hit them with something solid."

  Stump cracked it on the floor. Morg slammed it against his forehead.

  Within moments the strange symbol glowed orange and warmed Stump's hands. His eyes widened. "How does it work?"

  Denna shrugged. "You'd have to ask the enchanters."

  "Keep your wits about you," repeated Halwyn. "I'll have the fire bright enough soon, then Seabrace can flee before the battle starts."

  Denna sighed. "He does that."

  "Who's yer father to get such gifts?" said Morg. He rubbed his hands vigorously around the magical stone.

  She hesitated. "He's a trader himself. Limestone and dyes and such." Her tone suggested withheld details.

  "Bit young to be a mercenary, aren't ye?"

  Denna clenched her jaw. "I'm twenty," she said flatly, then unhooked the badge pinned to her tunic. "See for yourself, if you don't believe me." She tossed it across the bowl.

  Morg caught it awkwardly against his chest. "Don't mean to pry," he said, and gave it quick consideration before tossing it back. "We got ourselves caught up with some unsavory types on another isle."

  Denna was about to pin the badge to herself when Stump asked to see it. "Well," she said, handing it to him. "I don't mean to be defensive. I haven't been with the Iron Fleece long. This was my first quest."

  THE IRON FLEECE

  “From Thread to Thread We Defend”

  Gold

  Shepherd's Hall

  - Denna Gallomeire, 15th lvl Knight -

  "You're a knight," Stump breathed. He looked up at her, eyes sparkling with wonder. Like Garron.

  She cocked an eyebrow. "I am."

  "Sorry." He returned the badge and tried to stop himself from appearing too ensnared. "I've never spoken to a knight before."

  She chuckled and attached the insignia to her tunic. "I've spoken to far too many. Anyone with some focus points in Expert Weapons, Animal Handling and Heavy Armour gets the class."

  "Right," said Stump, swallowing his awe. "I'd like to be a Knight. Right now I'm just a second level Lumenurgist."

  She stirred. "You studied at the Amber Bastion?"

  "No. I read some papers, though."

  Now it was Denna's eyes that were alight. "How?" I mean, it was a skillbook, I imagine, but that's… you're from the Downs, aren't you?"

  Stump looked over to Morg, embarrassed by the indirect praise. The dwarf offered no relief. "Uh… sort of. I live there now. Just outside it, really. At the Knight Inn. But I'm from a goblin tribe, originally. I'd really like to be a Knight, you know."

  "I'd trade classes with you in a heartbeat," she said. "I always wanted… my brothers got to go to the Bastion, but my father didn't want that for me."

  "I'm sorry," said Stump. "If it makes you feel any better my father's name was Cock-Stabber."

  Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

  Denna palmed her mouth after a burst of laughter. "I'm sorry, that was rude," she said, regaining her composure. "I'm sure that name is normal among goblin tribes."

  "Sadly."

  The squelch of wet leather announced Morg's presence. "Not to interrupt yer bondin', but are we gonna yap about our fathers or try to find a way off this island?"

  "Right." Stump gulped and approached the weathered lighthouse edge, peering into the expansive mist. "That first," he said, almost to himself.

  He took a moment to consult the Words From the Sky while Morg and Denna discussed what they'd seen in the Spits. A strange thought pinged Stump's mind after meeting Denna, telling him one of his quests had been updated.

  The Missing Mercenaries

  You've found the sole survivor of the Iron Fleece members hired by Wasptongue holed up in an abandoned lighthouse. Return to your quest giver for reward.

  Rewards: 2.5 silver + free Lumenurgy training with Wasptongue

  Assigned to: Stump

  Assisted by: Morg (Unaffiliated)

  - Optional Quest Added -

  The Hauntings of Seabrace

  Through completion of 'The Missing Mercenaries' you've learned that the Iron Fleece have not yet completed their quest. Work with Denna to uncover the mysteries of why the hauntings of Seabrace have gotten worse, or return to Wasptongue to collect your reward.

  Rewards: ???

  Assigned to: Denna

  Assisted by: Stump (The Nobodies), Morgish (Unaffiliated)

  When he dismissed the system Denna was explaining her thoughts on the source of the hauntings.

  There was little her group had discovered before the wreck. They had seen figures in the fog, ghosts beneath the water—which, like Stump and Morg, was the cause of them going overboard—and once or twice spotted a single sailed ship covered in seaweed, a description frighteningly similar to the one mentioned by Germott and Pest.

  As they compared notes about where they'd explored, Stump couldn't take his eyes off Halwyn. He imagined the ghost's final moments. Maybe he'd been swept out to sea by a seismic wave, or killed by falling debris. Maybe he'd died from the shock of witnessing gods streaking across the sky, slinging volleys of unimaginable power.

  Either way, he was dead. Dead, but not gone. How long had it taken for him to find himself in his lighthouse again, trapped in a prison of his own mind?

  "You're trying to warn the rest of the island?" Stump asked him.

  Sir Halwyn gawked as if Stump were the phantom. "Jaessun will be here soon. I must light the fire for the isles to see. They must escape. My family must escape," he said, and prodded the ghostly wood. It flickered, lightless.

  "You have a family?"

  "My wife and our children. It's my duty to ensure they get to safety."

  Stump's ears drooped. He supposed it wouldn't be terrible to be a ghost if your final moments were happy. Dying suddenly while reading a book written by the tall men, of returning to the same gallant drama of knights over and over again until the end of days, sounded like a dream.

  But Halwyn's fate was much worse. He lived every day on the precipice of disaster, his ghostly thoughts never straying from the potential death of his loved ones.

  Stump tried to imagine the unending horror of his own post-death existence if he had died during the Wildrun, killed by Griza or Little-Bear or burned alive by Thrung. He would do anything to have someone remind him it had already happened, to free him from the torment.

  He reached out to the fire. Whatever essence Lumensa had left behind after her fall churned in his belly. He could feel the virtue swirling. It fanned out through his veins—a bloodlust of sorts, but it was the blood of gods, not goblins.

  The virtue left his body and materialized in the metal bowl, setting the ghostly fire aglow.

  Denna yanked Stump by the collar and gripped her sword belt. "What did you do?" she demanded.

  He steadied himself in her grasp. "I helped him, I think," he said. "Look."

  Sir Halwyn dropped his spectral poker, which vanished without a thud. His face, now illuminated, was an undulating soup of human features and ghostly mist, drifting between confusion and awe. "We've done it!" he proclaimed. "We've lit the signal! They can flee before the battle! My children… my children will be safe." He floated to the edge of the lighthouse and peered longingly through the fog.

  A warmth surged through Stump, as if the power he'd summoned to complete Halwyn's quest splintered off and returned to him. The tenets work on other people, too?

  Tenet of Lumensa fulfilled: Virtue +1 (6/6)

  Skill Level Increased: Lumenurgy (level 3)

  Character Level Increased: Level 3 - Maximum Virtue +1 (6/7)

  Denna released him. "Sir Halwyn?" she called hesitantly.

  "My children will be safe," he repeated. "They come this way now."

  Denna and Morg stepped to the edge and gazed into the retreating mist. She drew in a sharp breath.

  Morg chuckled. "I hope Germott's alive so I can tell him I was right too. I think we might've found our way out."

  Stump pulled himself up to the low wall beneath the cupola, high enough to peer over the crumbling stone, and spotted the ship materializing out of fog. Seaweed hung from its rotted sails.

  It came drifting out of the gloom, partly a tangible wooden vessel with a wake at its bow, and partly the mist itself, spilling forth in the shape its sailors remembered.

  "Ye see anyone aboard?" Morg said grimly after the three of them had followed Halwyn out to the rocks beneath the lighthouse.

  It was too dark at first to tell, but as it drifted closer to the lumen Sustained beneath the cupola, each member of the crew appeared at the helm. A dozen of them, no more than swirling phantoms in vaguely humanoid arrangements.

  "They'll take us to safety," Halwyn called from farther ahead. A small wave rolled through his ankles, undisturbed by his presence. "My children will be safe…"

  "I hope they're as kind as sir Halwyn," Stump said. His skin bristled at a spray of sea chill. Denna draped a second, heavier cloak over his shoulders. It was the colour of apricots and smelled, like everything else, of salt.

  "Thanks," he said, looking up at her.

  She nodded. Her adventurer's pack was slung over one shoulder and her mail cuirass over the other. "I hope that idea of yours was a good one."

  The ship stopped as close to shore as it dared and lowered one of its ghostly sailors in a small phantom rowboat to ferry him the rest of the way. Stump let his lumen flicker out, dropping the Sustain, and lit only by the foggy light of evening the ghosts took their full human shapes, as corporeal as Morg or Denna.

  "Sir Halwyn, we spied your beacon from afar," the sailor called as his boat bobbed offshore.

  "Bright Queen shine on you, Ulith. It's good to see you," said Halwyn. "We must ferry ourselves to safety now. The battle's near begun."

  "Are your companions coming with you?" Ulith appraised them each in turn. His eyes settled when they came to Stump.

  "They must," Halwyn said. "Their lives are in danger of Jaessun's fury just as much as ours."

  Ulith paused, considering the goblin with a weather beaten frown. "Alright then. Be quick about it," he said and shifted to make room on his small vessel.

  "On that?" Morg muttered. "It's barely bigger than ours."

  "Did you see the way he looked at me?" Stump remarked.

  "Haste, friends! Haste!" Halwyn had already floated onto the boat and signalled them to follow.

  "Do we want to get in the ghost ship?" Denna asked, barely above a whisper.

  "We don't have a choice," said Stump.

  The rowboat, despite being barely larger than Morg's skiff from the Tackled Hack, took the weight of the five of them. The hull sank deep enough for water to lap over the sides. Stump kept himself as centred as possible, away from any prying seaweed-like fingers.

  Ulith was the first to climb the ladder of their larger ship. Once aboard he reached down and helped up sir Halwyn.

  "Welcome aboard the Spirit of Dusk," came the wispy intones of a ghost on board. Morg was next to make the climb, but swatted away Ulith's hand and clambered his own way up.

  "We must set off before the battle commences, but before that…" the spirit went on.

  Ulith lifted Denna to the deck with one strong arm, then turned back to Stump. He slowly uncurled his spectral fingers, and looked down at the goblin with hardened eyes.

  Stump gulped, and reached out.

  The grasp was ice cold.

  "…we must maintain the safety of our isle…"

  As Stump stepped on deck he caught a glimpse of the phantom who had been speaking. He wore a wide-brimmed feathered cap, a blood red overcoat stitched with gold atop a dark blue buttoned shirt decorated with epaulettes, and long black boots pulled up to his knees. He was pacing near the bow, in front of an undead crew of more than a dozen.

  "…starting with…" the words caught in the apparition's throat when his eyes met Stump. As if they all borrowed from one mind, the other ghosts followed their captain's glare.

  Stump shuffled back a pace, and bumped into the cold belly of Ulith.

  "…starting with the goblin witch of Seabrace," the captain said, finishing his thought. He dragged his sword out of its sheath. "And all those who call themselves her ally."

  Stump shivered at the sound of the crew freeing their blades—like wind whistling through a keyhole.