Location Overview

The Old Light is a shattered Thassilonian ruin crowning the seacliffs just north of Sandpoint—a broken ring of stone and rubble that once formed the base of a vast tower or war‑engine. Its jagged silhouette dominates the town’s northern horizon, a constant reminder that older, harsher powers once ruled these shores.

To Sandpoint’s people, the ruin is both familiar and unsettling. It serves as a romantic lookout and a place to drink, brood, or carve initials into ancient stone, but many also speak of it in the same breath as the Late Unpleasantness and other “bad old days.” Rumors of strange lights, ghostly shapes, and voices in the surf keep sensible folk from lingering after dark.

Wind, crashing surf, and the sting of salt define the site. The stone underfoot thrums with a faint, indefinable tension—a sense that something vast once moved through these channels and might yet stir again. Scholars in Magnimar quietly argue that the Old Light was once a siege device of the Runelord of Wrath, and fragments of that function may be waking under the attention of modern cultists and reckless researchers.

PCs typically come here to chase goblins or smugglers, to investigate reports of lights and sounds, to chase leads tied to the Late Unpleasantness, or simply to satisfy curiosity about the region’s most obvious ruin. At the table, the Old Light works well as a compact dungeon‑and‑investigation node: scouting along a perilous approach, tense negotiations or ambushes among lovers and lookouts, skirmishes over sheer drops, and the discovery of clues that foreshadow greater Runelord threats.

Geography & Environment

The Old Light stands on a narrow spur of cliff that juts west from the line of bluffs north of Sandpoint. On three sides, the land falls away in steep, crumbling faces to jagged black rocks and relentless surf. Only a single narrow, switchback path climbs from inland; everything else is cliff, loose scree, or exposed stone.

Sea winds are strong and constant here. Cloaks snap, loose objects skitter, and arrows veer. Ranged attacks, shouted warnings, and careful listening are all affected: gusts can spoil shots, carry voices away, or drown out subtle sounds from below. During storms, wind gusts become dangerous in their own right, threatening to shove unwary combatants across slick stone toward the edge.

The cliff’s edge is unstable in places. Long cracks thread through the stone, some only a hand’s breadth wide, others yawning into hidden sinkholes. Underneath, centuries of waves have undercut many ledges, leaving sections that can give way under weight or the shock of spells and explosives. The GM can turn any reckless chase or heavy impact near the rim into a collapsing ledge, shifting the battlefield and creating sudden falls.

Fog rolls in low and thick on many mornings and evenings, hugging the base of the cliffs while leaving the broken crown stark against the sky. At times, only the upper ruin is visible from town, seemingly floating on a cloud. On especially foggy days, visibility along the approach drops to a few strides, making ambushes easy and long‑range watchfulness nearly useless.

Vegetation clings stubbornly to the stone: salt‑burned shrubs, thorny tangles, and creeping vines that root in narrow seams. These offer minimal cover but conceal fissures, animal dens, and old pits. Scrub and low stone outcrops along the approach path create natural chokepoints where small groups can hold off larger foes.

Birdlife is constant. Gulls wheel overhead, cormorants nest in cliff pockets, and larger raptors perch on the ruin’s highest teeth. The birds react sharply to intruders, sudden noises, and blood. Their panicked flights can telegraph activity at the ruin to observant onlookers in Sandpoint, while scavengers drawn to corpses might uncover hidden caches or drag exposed bones into view.

Far below, at the tide line, dark sea caves gnaw at the cliff. These caverns are reachable only at low tide from a small stony beach, or via difficult climbs using ropes and natural holds. Many connect to collapsed lower levels of the Old Light. Rising water can cut off escape or flood lower passages, turning exploration into a timed challenge tied to the rhythm of the sea.

Notable Features

The following features anchor encounters, exploration, and investigation at the Old Light. Treat each as a discrete scene, or weave several together in a single foray.

The Broken Crown

The Broken Crown is the most recognizable section of the Old Light: a truncated ring of tower wall that rises above the rest of the ruin, its upper edge jagged like shattered teeth. Several collapsed interior floors and radial buttresses form half‑intact walkways, balconies, and ledges, creating a layered arena of high and low ground.

Inside the ring, partial walls, fallen arches, and tilted slabs provide cover and stepping stones. Goblins, bandits, or other squatters favor this space as a lookout and last stand. Combat here naturally becomes three‑dimensional, with leaps across gaps, scrambling climbs up exposed masonry, and the constant threat of being driven back toward the drop.

On the interior stones, weathered carvings and faint wrath runes cling to sheltered surfaces. Careful examination reveals broken phrases alluding to “aligned fury,” “burning horizons,” and “cities made ash.” These hints can nudge curious PCs toward understanding the Old Light’s original, destructive purpose. In some sections, runes still hold a trace of heat; touching them or channeling magic nearby might awaken minor defenses.

Bricked‑over stairwells, narrow service shafts, and collapsed maintenance passages perforate the Broken Crown. Several lead into sealed pockets where ancient constructs, bound sparks of elemental fire, or dormant wards might linger. Breaking into these recesses can reward PCs with Thassilonian tools or unstable relics, but may also destabilize the crown’s already fragile structure.

Cliffside Approach

A narrow, switchback trail climbs from the Lost Coast Road up to the Old Light’s spur. The path is visible from Sandpoint—tiny moving figures are easy to spot against the pale cliff—but several hairpin turns pass beneath low stone outcrops and scrub thickets that make ideal ambush points.

Loose scree patches, short rock steps, and eroded edges slow travel and complicate mounted movement. The GM can use rockfalls, sliding gravel, and sudden drops as environmental complications in combat, forcing combatants to choose between secure footing and advantageous positions.

Halfway up the trail, a leaning marker stone juts from the slope. Its face bears overlapping carvings: Varisian spiral warnings and taboo markings etched over much older, nearly erased Thassilonian script. Locals interpret the sign as “stay away; bad spirits,” but anyone who deciphers the faded runes finds references to sanctioned access and “authorized wrath‑channeled personnel.” This layered warning underscores that the site has been considered dangerous across multiple eras.

Boot prints, goblin tracks, dragged crate marks, and occasional chalk sigils or camp ash along the path reveal recent use. Careful tracking can distinguish between small raiding parties, organized smugglers, and the disciplined tread of hired mercenaries, hinting at who currently occupies the ruin.

Collapsed Lower Works

Beneath the Broken Crown lies a tangle of fallen courtyards, half‑buried galleries, and sublevels open to the sky. Rubble mounds, shattered arches, and tilted flagstones create an uneven maze. In several places, sinkholes yawn down into cramped passages or water‑slicked shafts that lead toward the sea caves.

These lower works function as a short, dense dungeon layer: narrow tunnels force single‑file movement, jagged ceilings and loose stones threaten to drop debris on noisy groups, and pockets of stale or bad air complicate extended exploration. Occasional beams of sunlight filter through gaps above, creating islands of visibility amid shadowed pits and side chambers.

Among the rubble, broken stones engraved with wrath runes lie scattered, many scorched or fused. Twisted metal conduits and rails snake through the walls, some melted into glassy ridges by unimaginable heat. Panels of fused glass or vitrified stone, sometimes still warm to the touch in places of magical resonance, hint at the runaway energies that destroyed the tower.

Modern intruders—cultists, scholars, or scavengers—favor these spaces for hidden work. Small shrines, makeshift laboratories, or ritual circles can be tucked into side chambers, with unstable debris and ancient mechanisms serving as both resource and hazard.

Sea Caves Below

At the base of the cliff, sea caves open and close with the tide. A narrow, stone‑strewn beach appears at low tide, allowing access on foot; at other times, only risky climbs or magic can reach the entrances. Within, rough stone tunnels expand into echoing chambers, their floors slick with algae and tide pools.

Here, eroded foundations of the Old Light jut from the walls: broken arches, conduit channels, and angled shafts that once directed power outward. Saltwater has chewed away inscriptions, but in sheltered alcoves, intact runes hint that energy once lanced toward the sea or sky from these points.

Coastal predators—crabs the size of dogs, lurking reef hunters, or amphibious monstrosities—claim these caves as lairs. Aquatic undead or drowned victims of past wrecks may also stir here, drawn to the residue of wrath magic. Debris from smashed ships collects in side pools: shattered timbers, cargo crates, and the occasional survivor’s chest.

Beyond the obvious passages, sealed or cleverly concealed chambers connect upward into the collapsed lower works. These hidden rooms can hold key Thassilonian focus crystals, walls scored with ancient scorch marks from the tower’s final discharge, or skeletal remains clutching journals, control rods, or other clues to the Old Light’s last moments.

Overlook and Lovers’ Ledge

Near the top of the spur, a relatively flat outcrop juts toward the sea: the Overlook, ending in a narrower extension known locally as Lovers’ Ledge. The spot offers sweeping views of Sandpoint’s harbor, the Lost Coast Road, and the distant outline of Magnimar on a clear day.

Townsfolk sneak here for solitude, romance, or stolen drinks, despite parental warnings and superstitious mutterings. As a result, the Overlook works well as a social scene: the PCs might encounter nervous youths, secretive meetings, or watchers observing Sandpoint and signaling distant allies.

Graffiti, carved hearts, and scattered tokens litter the stone. Names here can tie directly to Sandpoint NPCs, hinting at relationships, secrets, or trysts that matter later. Mixed in with the modern scratches are older, more formal carvings—dates, names, and symbols that predate the town and suggest generations of watchers using this same vantage point.

The ledge itself is narrow and undercut, its stone cracked from age and past “accidents.” Any chase or confrontation here carries a real risk of someone going over the edge. Fractured stone and old impact marks far below testify that romance and recklessness sometimes end in tragedy.

Factions & NPCs

The Old Light rarely sits truly abandoned. Choose or adapt these factions to fit party level and current campaign threads.

Goblin Squatters

Role: Superstitious scavengers drawn to shiny rubble and a good lookout.

Nearby goblin tribes view the Old Light as cursed but irresistibly rich in loot. Small bands sneak up the cliffside approach to strip metal, trinkets, and food from careless visitors. They delight in daring each other to camp in the “fire ghost tower,” claiming bragging rights for every night survived.

These goblins set crude traps along the path—tripwires with noisemakers, deadfalls, and pits disguised with brush. They wedge themselves into bird nests and cracks in the stone to hide from larger threats and pelt intruders with missiles. When confronted, they scatter in all directions, using tunnels and narrow ledges that only they know.

If pressed, goblins flee downward into the collapsed lower works or even into sea‑cave access shafts, unintentionally drawing PCs into more dangerous areas. Captured or intimidated goblins can offer rumors about “red light rocks” and “angry runes” below.

Thassilonian‑Obsessed Scholar or Cult Agent

Role: Fanatic researcher trying to reawaken the Old Light’s power.

This figure might be an independent sage, a Magnimarian academic with secret backers, or an overt agent of a wrath‑aligned cult. They camp in a sheltered pocket of the lower works or sea caves, surrounded by notes, scavenged crystals, and partially restored conduits.

Their goals center on decoding the wrath inscriptions, mapping remaining power channels, and testing controlled discharges. They prefer to observe newcomers from hiding or through hired muscle—bandits, mercenaries, or charmed locals. PCs who demonstrate knowledge of Thassilon or offer rare texts may earn a tense parley instead of an immediate ambush.

Cornered, the scholar or agent becomes dangerous. They may trigger dormant wards, overload a conduit to cause localized explosions or collapses, or attempt an emergency ritual that destabilizes the Old Light. Such an act can turn the entire ruin into an active hazard, with cracking stone, surging energy, and a hard deadline before disaster.

Local Watcher or Hermit

Role: Jaded local guardian who keeps an eye on the ruin.

This NPC might be a retired Sandpoint guard who lost friends during the Late Unpleasantness, a Varisian seer following grim omens, or a Shoanti wanderer honoring ancestral taboos. Regardless of background, they have taken it upon themselves to watch the Old Light and quietly track who goes in and out.

They usually keep to a modest camp along the lower part of the cliffside approach or in a concealed nook near the Overlook. Their first instinct on seeing adventurers is to assess motives from a distance. If the PCs seem cautious or respectful, the watcher approaches with warnings about loose stone, bad tides, and unnatural fires.

Once trust is earned—usually through heeding their advice or demonstrating concern for Sandpoint—they share rumors linking the Old Light to wrathful spirits, strange dreams in town, or political interests from Magnimar. They can point the PCs toward hidden paths, safer tide windows, or signs that more organized factions are at work in the ruin.

Secrets & Mysteries

• Deep in the collapsed lower works, a partially intact inscription openly describes the Old Light as a “wrath‑engine” meant to annihilate enemy cities with fire from the sky, not merely a lighthouse or watchtower.
• The tower’s destruction shows signs of deliberate overload or sabotage shortly before Earthfall—melted channels, inward‑blown walls, and scorched residue—implying someone turned its power against itself, leaving unstable magic in its foundations.
• Residual energy in the Old Light’s conduits resonates with recent magical disturbances in Sandpoint: strange fires, shared nightmares, or erratic spellcasting can all be traced back to its slow reawakening.
• A hidden cache in a bricked‑up alcove holds Magnimarian reports and censored sketches that downplay the ruin’s true function, along with orders instructing local agents to minimize public alarm and discourage deep study.
• One prominent Sandpoint citizen secretly visits the Overlook to commune with a dream‑echo or bound spirit tied to the ruin, receiving cryptic guidance that sometimes aids the town and sometimes steers events toward wrathful escalation.
• A sealed chamber in the sea caves shelters a fractured rune‑stone keyed to a distant Thassilonian site. When touched or activated, it briefly links the Old Light to that far‑off ruin, providing optional clues or visions that foreshadow later AP locations.

Adventure Hooks

• Vanishing Lights: During storms, townsfolk see thin, ruby‑red beams flicker from the Old Light toward the sea. A worried town leader asks the PCs to investigate before panic about “Runelord fire” spreads through Sandpoint.
• Lovers Gone Missing: A well‑liked young couple fails to return from a secret meeting at Lovers’ Ledge. Their friends beg the PCs to search before the tide changes or predators—and something worse in the sea caves—claim them.
• Scholar in Over His Head: A visiting sage hires the PCs to guard a survey of the ruin but triggers a dormant ward, causing tremors and falling stone. The party must stabilize or escape the collapsing section while rivals or creatures take advantage of the chaos.
• Goblin Fireworks: Goblins in nearby woods wield erratic, explosive “red shards” that erupt in wild gouts of flame. Tracking the source leads to a dig site within the Old Light where someone else is mining wrath‑charged fragments for unknown purposes.
• Echoes of the Late Unpleasantness: New fires or grisly deaths in Sandpoint show scorch patterns and scattered runes that match those in the Old Light. Investigation reveals a link between the ruin’s awakening magic and a hidden killer or cultist operating in town.

Ties to Rise of the Runelords

The Old Light offers an early, concrete example of Thassilonian power and the sin of wrath. PCs who study its carvings, mechanisms, or lingering magic gain context for later encounters with Runelord sites, recognizing recurring symbols, runes, and themes long before they face them directly.

Runic fragments, inscriptions, or visions encountered here can reference names, emblems, or distant locations that reappear deeper into the campaign. None of these clues are required, but they reward attentive play and allow the GM to foreshadow later chapters in a tactile way.

The Thassilonian‑obsessed scholar or cult agent may tie directly into factions serving Alaznist or opposing other Runelords, establishing a recurring NPC whose actions at the Old Light echo across the AP. Their reports or captured correspondence can hint at a wider network of ruin‑hunters and cult cells beyond Sandpoint.

Evidence that Magnimar has suppressed the Old Light’s true nature primes PCs to treat that city’s authorities with suspicion. Later dealings with Magnimarian nobles and bureaucrats may be colored by knowledge that they have already lied—or at least obfuscated—about the dangers on Sandpoint’s doorstep.

Finally, wrath‑aligned relics salvaged from the ruin make potent, unstable tools or hazards in future adventures. A cracked focus crystal that flares under emotional stress, or a control rod that occasionally pulls fire toward its bearer, can remind the party that they carry a fragment of the Old Light’s sin with them, ready to complicate key moments later in the campaign.