The lake is constantly covered in thick mist...

It’s dangerous, but people go out because of Polyplacophora Artemia — rare, bioluminescent, unspoilable mollusks that fetch absurd prices internationally.

The mollusks’ light fades over time with a half-life of ~ 1 week, but this varies by the lunar cycle. Brighter mollusks fetch higher prices.

The misty town of Savage Point is the center of the mollusk trade. Old stone buildings, narrow streets, and ancient men in yellow raincoats carry on unchanging under the bay’s massive lighthouse.

The lighthouse itself doesn’t use fire, as it would be put out by the mist. Instead, fishermen deposit a portion of the days catch as a tax to light up the beacon that night. After hundreds of years, enough has built up that there's always at least a dim glow.

Nevertheless, constant upkeep is crucial.

Under the wates of the townspeople’s consciousnesses, a shadow stirs. The Jungian memory of Norse sea monsters pooled at the bottom of the lake, coalescing into something a bit more than a dream. If you commune with the Kraken, there’s a good chance you’ll recieve an answer. Like many things, belief itself creates. The power of its influence is drawn from the power of those who believe.

This creates an interesting self-maintaining balance. All people of Savage Point tend to believe at least a bit in the Kraken—its effects can be seen. But those who get too drawn in, whose conviction is complete, unwittingly become batteries from which miracles are drawn until only an insane husk remains, a warning to those who would choose a similar path.

Savage Point in 1924

Guildhall of the Noble Order of Artemiters