The nights grow longer and darker as winter approaches. The cold north winds of autumn signal the return of thousands of frontiersmen fleeing the bitter winters of the barbarous lands.
Trappers, loggers, and traders alike all wait out the frost in the slums and shanties of Northallow. The city, swollen and plump, fill with the hardy travellers looking to spend their year’s wage on pleasures of drink and flesh. Crime rates soar, and the watch often hires mercenaries and brutes to help stock patrols.