Upon first entering the Dusk Vigil nothing seemed amiss, not anymore so than would be expected of an abandoned outpost half buried under fulms of snow. But something felt… off about it.

The gate suddenly slammed shut and all around the ghostly shapes of armed knights appeared, weapons drawn. One lunged forward with his spear, poised to run through the intruder that disturbed them.

In the last second before it connected, recognition flashed through his eyes, too late for him to stop his strike.

The spear passed through living flesh as harmlessly as a chill breeze, willed intangible by its wielder. The knight hastily drew it back and signaled to his fellows to cease and disperse. Reluctantly they stowed their arms and shuffled back to their duties.

A hesitant smile graced the knight’s youthful features. “Are you alright? Sorry about that, it was a misunderstanding. We thought you were an enemy outrider, but now that I look more clearly…”

He sighed, no warmth or even air leaving his lips. “It’s… gotten harder to do that. Thinking clearly, I mean. It feels as if time froze the moment we… as if the war is still at our gates.”

“No, you needn’t try to spare me the truth. I remember what happened, and I know what I am. A shade, a restless spirit tethered to this place, and I’ll likely remain such until the day it is reclaimed and restored to its former glory. I’ve made peace with that, and if you don’t mind I’d like to stay and see my work through.”

“I should introduce myself. I am Ser Vairemont.” He executed a polite bow.

Straightening, he gestured at the outpost. “Please, stay awhile, if you can afford to. We would be grateful for the company. We don’t have much to offer the living, as our supplies are a bit… stale by now. But there’s still plenty of wood for the fires and we can clear out the snow that’s gotten in.”

“Just be mindful of the bits that have collapsed. We wouldn’t want to lose anyone else to crumbling stonework.” There was a bitter irony in his words, the voice of experience.