The Light House

Tucked away in the winding alleys of Old Town in Aberston's Easton district, far from the mansions and villas of merchants and naval commanders, stands a squat, stone-fronted building known simply as The Light House. It is not a lighthouse in the maritime sense: no tower, no beam sweeping across the waves, but for the weary, the wounded, and the forgotten, it is just as much a beacon. Founded by the Sisters of the Light, The Light House serves as a community refuge, free clinic, and shleter for those in need. Sailors between voyagers, widows of the sea, abandoned children, labourers broken by shipyard injuries, all are welcome without question and without charge. Its doors are open fron sunrise to moonrise. Inside, the walls are lined with small cots, warm broths simmer on communal stoves, and a single prayer candle burns continuously in a central alcove: symbolising hope in the darkness. The Sisters provide food, wound care, quiet prayer, and when needed, a bed to die in with dignity. Officially, The Light House receives minor funding from the The Ecclesium and charitable donations. Unofficially, it survives on the back of sailor' tithes, undergroun support from brothels, and anonymous coin drops from those who once lay on its cots. The building's name nods to both the naval nature of Aberston and the Sisters role as light-bearers in life's final moments. It is said that the candle only extinguishes when the city has lost its way; a superstition strong enough that local captains often make offerings before setting sail. The Light House is not flashy, nor powerful, nor loud. But in a world that often forgets its' poor, it remembers them. And it offers, always, a warm light in the fog.