Ships roll in throughout the night seeking sanctuary from the mighty crash of the water to the shore. This is a special night where black covers like a blanket on the devil's bed. We have guided with the beams that this house produces for generations. Many lost souls turn to our direction and with this being the eve of dismay, we have been quite busy. Running on all of the candle power we can muster, but we can't save them all. There will be some of the unfortunate who burn for their tardiness, we then just watch as they die. Our light house is hopefully going to see the friendly fire, trinkets, and souvenirs for the future. On the verge of war with weapons that this house of light will not be able to protect. Newly found watery coffins that once resembled boats will be searching for a new power source, that we call a bright light of destruction.