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The Cursed Blue Rose
Forest stands on one side of Tiratan and lake water on the other, and the city draws on both. Timber, pitch and fuel come down out of the trees; fish, ice and cargo come off the water. Neither reaches the workshops and leaves unchanged. This is a production city, where raw material stops, passes through hands, and goes on worth more than it came in at. The year runs on that rhythm: open water for moving goods, deep winter for the indoor trades, and a short hard thaw that everyone plans around.
Raised in the fifth and most recent wave of expansion, Tiratan sits among the newer settlements of the western forest, and it has never been the seat of anything. Its allegiance is to Basaran, which suits a place that would rather make things than govern them. The people are Ashanar, holding to covenant and contract, patient with long winters and with work that only pays at the end of it.