A weathered notice board stands just off the beach, its wooden frame sun-bleached and salt-worn. Layers of pinned and tacked papers cover its surface: bounties, job postings, missing notices, and general updates, some fresh, others curling and faded beneath the constant ocean air.

An intricate series of tunnels created by the flow of lava into the sea exists beneath Torchline, with entrances that peep out all across the islands. Used commonly by smugglers to fence ill-gotten gains, these tunnels are used almost explicitly by those with less than honourable intentions in mind. Careful though, only those who can read the smugglers-code will be able to navigate the tunnels and the hidden directions on the walls. Those who can't will likely find themselves lost and then drowned when the tide comes in.

Standing out from the rest of Torchline’s architecture, the Court of the Stars is a white marble structure dedicated to Safrin, its clean lines and celestial detailing impossible to miss within Haulani. Broad steps lead up to large double doors, while outside, a tiered fountain carved in her image spills softly with clear, healing waters, surrounded by carefully tended flowers and stonework. Inside, the building opens into airy halls and meeting spaces, before giving way to a domed garden beyond a second set of doors. Encased in glass, the ceiling allows an uninterrupted view of the sky above, while night-blooming flowers and a central fountain fill the space with colour and scent. Along one side, an open colonnade lets the sea breeze drift through, offering a clear view out toward the lighthouse and the surrounding ocean.

The Last Word sits where the Hanged Man once stood, rebuilt along Torchline’s waterfront with a full glass wall facing the sea and the canal that links the bar to the ocean. Inside, the space is broad and open enough to hold a proper crowd, with a long polished bar, weathered leather booths, wooden tables and chairs, and vintage nautical lanterns casting warm light over dark beams, brass fixtures, and shelves of glassware. Though newly built, nothing about it feels pristine: the wood is softened and worn, the leather already looks broken-in, and the whole place carries the easy salt-and-rum atmosphere of a bar meant for secrets, gossip, bad decisions, and last words. Through the glass, patrons can see the bright water, passing boats, and the movement of Haulani beyond, while the canal access makes it easy for small vessels to draw near without leaving the sea entirely behind.