Farabru

River Through the Taiga

In the taiga at the centre of the continent, where spruce and larch run to the horizon in every direction, the river does work no road can, and Farabru is strung along it. The city lives on movement rather than on the ground it stands on. Cargo comes off the water at long low wharves, is weighed and warehoused, then goes back out on the current — or onto sledge-tracks, once the freeze is hard enough to carry a loaded runner. Furs, timber, worked metal, provisions: little of it stays. Warehouses outnumber houses, and the wharves are built low and cheap, because the spring ice takes a share of them most years.

Late to the Taiga

Farabru belongs to the fifth and most recent wave of elven expansion, and it still carries the unfinished feel of a place its own residents can remember as forest. Its people are traders by habit and by necessity, elves patient enough to sit out a bad season and long-lived enough to know exactly how rare a good one is. Authority over the city rests with the Glacial Dominion.