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You wash ashore on Emberwood with nothing but your hands and the last light of day. The island is beautiful — mossy forest, cold sea, a sheltered cove with an old wrecked rowboat. But when the sun goes down, the wraiths come: drifting pillars of dark flame with burning amber eyes, and they are patient.

Gather by daylight. Break fallen branches for wood, chip boulders for stone, pick berries and mushrooms before the bushes run dry. Chop standing trees once you've knapped a stone axe — wood is life here.

Craft before dark. An axe to fell trees. A torch to walk at night. A campfire to light your camp — wraiths will not cross its light, and its warmth keeps the cold from seeping into your bones. A lean-to to sleep under. The fire burns wood fast, so keep feeding it.

Survive four nights. Stay in the light or learn to run. Eat, drink from the shore, and hold out until dawn of the fifth day — that's when the sail appears on the horizon.