Redhaven lies in a high-altitude basin where the eastern spine of the mountains breaks open into a wide, livable valley. Snow-capped peaks ring the city to the west and north, while foothills and forested ridgelines form natural choke points along its perimeter. A cold, fast-moving river—the Ardent—cuts directly through the city from southwest to northeast, dividing districts before flowing down toward the plains.
Elevation, weather, and isolation shaped Redhaven long before the fall. After it, those same traits turned the city into both a refuge and a trap.
Redhaven was a city built on movement and access.
It served as:
A logistics hub between mountain and plains
A gateway for alpine industry and research
A cultural crossroads between rural communities and urban life
Unlike coastal cities, Redhaven never sprawled outward endlessly. Growth pressed upward instead—into hills, plateaus, and terraced neighborhoods carved into stone and pine.
The city balanced:
Dense downtown development
Strong neighborhood identities
A deep reliance on infrastructure and planning
Redhaven believed it was prepared for anything.
It was wrong.
Redhaven’s economy rested on four pillars:
Transportation & Logistics
Rail yards, highways, and mountain passes made the city indispensable for freight and travel.
Research & Environmental Science
High-altitude labs, climate research facilities, and bio-environmental institutes dotted the foothills.
Energy & Utilities
Hydroelectric stations upriver, wind farms along ridges, and subterranean utility corridors powered the region.
Tourism & Culture
Festivals, winter sports, and university-driven arts made Redhaven lively year-round.
These systems kept the city alive—and later, gave the Blood Plague its pathways.
When the Blood Plague reached Redhaven, it arrived quietly.
Hospitals filled.
Transit slowed.
Then stopped.
As evacuation orders came, mountain passes clogged with stalled vehicles. Weather turned. Helicopters vanished. The city sealed itself accidentally—cut off not by policy, but by terrain.
Within days:
Power grids failed unevenly
Water pressure collapsed in upper districts
Fires burned unchecked downtown
The Ardent carried blood and debris through every neighborhood it touched
Redhaven did not explode into chaos.
It choked.
One month later, Redhaven remains structurally intact.
Most buildings still stand.
Most roads are still passable.
Most districts are recognizable.
And nearly all of them are infected.
The Blood Plague spread through Redhaven like a circulatory system:
Roads became arteries
Utility tunnels became veins
The river became a living vector
The city did not die.
It was claimed.
Before:
The economic and civic heart of Redhaven. Mid-rise towers, government buildings, transit hubs, and corporate headquarters clustered tightly around the river crossing.
After:
Highspire is a vertical graveyard.
Streets clogged with abandoned vehicles
Office buildings filled with dormant infected
Skybridges act as silent corridors for movement
Sound travels dangerously far between structures
Skill Retainers are common here. Vehicle-capable infected sightings are highest in this district.
Before:
Rail yards, warehouses, manufacturing plants, and freight depots formed the logistical backbone of the city.
After:
Ironline is one of the most dangerous districts in Redhaven.
Heavy machinery remains operational
Trains sit idle on tracks like loaded weapons
Noise echoes endlessly through metal corridors
Vehicle-capable infected and industrial accidents account for most fatalities here.
Before:
Terraced neighborhoods climbing into the foothills. Family homes, schools, and local markets connected by switchback roads.
After:
Timberreach is deceptively quiet.
Homes remain intact
Streets are narrow and defensible
Infected linger indoors, dormant for days
Small survivor enclaves exist here, often block by block. This is where rebuilding first becomes possible—and most fragile.
Before:
A sprawling university complex atop elevated ground. Research labs, student housing, libraries, and medical facilities.
After:
Northglass is a knowledge graveyard.
Research facilities are sealed or compromised
Experimental sites are rumored to be plague catalysts
VAMP sightings are higher than average
The district overlooks much of the city—making it a coveted and deadly prize.
Before:
Parks, riverside housing, entertainment venues, and pedestrian infrastructure lined the Ardent.
After:
The river is no longer safe.
Plague residue coats embankments
Infected cluster near water access points
Fog carries blood-rot particulate
Redwater Bend is the most biologically contaminated district in the city.
Before:
Utility stations, reservoirs, wind farms, and maintenance roads traced the ridgelines surrounding Redhaven.
After:
Summit Ring is partially operational—and fiercely contested.
Power can be restored in limited areas
Water access is possible with control
Exposure to weather and isolation is extreme
Survivors who control Summit Ring control Redhaven’s future.
Before:
Protected green zones, hiking trails, and forest reserves separating the city from the wild.
After:
Nature presses inward.
Wildlife activity has increased
Plague-tainted plant growth appears sporadically
Early-stage Plague Hearts have been reported
This district marks the boundary between city and something worse.
Redhaven is not lost.
It is unfinished.
Hordes migrate. Districts change. Cleared blocks remain safe—until they aren’t. The city rewards planning, patience, and cooperation.
It punishes noise, haste, and overreach.
Among those who still live within Redhaven, one phrase is common:
“The city’s still breathing.
Just not for us.”