Small footprints in the mud
A lamplighter of Ashby
Twelve thousand lanterns go up on the rooftops of Ashby on the first night of winter. That is next week. Last night I went to the storehouse to start counting them and the lock was open.
Nothing in there but string. The floor was mud from one wall to the other and the mud was full of footprints. Small ones. Bare. A great many of them, all heading for the door and the woods beyond it.
The council has not told the town yet. They have told the guild. It is a long walk to the woods and I am told goblins kick.
Written by lamplight, what is left of it,
A lamplighter of Ashby
