The Stillward was once a broad, working-class district of mid-rise apartments, civic buildings, schools, and neighborhood commercial streets—densely populated, deeply communal, and structurally sound. When the outbreak began, this was one of the few areas where people didn’t immediately flee or fracture. Instead, they barricaded stairwells, sealed intersections, and tried to survive together.
For a time, it almost worked.
Twenty years later, the Stillward exists in a state of permanent contest. Large sections of the district are overrun, especially the interiors of residential towers and public buildings where the infected cluster densely. Yet the streets themselves are often quiet, reclaimed by trees, grass, and creeping vines that break up sightlines and dampen sound. Power flickers inconsistently. Water still runs in many buildings. The infrastructure is intact enough to tempt survival—and dangerous enough to punish complacency.
Small survivor hold-outs dot the Stillward like islands: barricaded apartment blocks, rooftop gardens, reinforced community centers, and sealed school complexes turned into micro-fortresses. These enclaves are rarely larger than a few dozen people. They communicate cautiously, trade infrequently, and avoid drawing attention. When a hold-out falls, it usually does so quietly—lights go dark, doors stay shut, and the district absorbs it without notice.
The infected here behave differently than in Spirefall. They move less aggressively, often lingering inside structures or drawn toward noise rather than light. This allows survivors to coexist at the edges, but never comfortably. Every sound risks a surge. Every fire risks drawing a crowd that cannot be dispersed.
No major faction controls the Stillward. The Ledger avoids it—it’s inefficient. The Shard Coalition raids it, but never holds ground. The Docklands see it as a buffer. The Cinder Faith considers it unpurified. As a result, the Stillward survives by being inconvenient to conquer and too costly to cleanse.
The Stillward is not safe, but it is stubborn. It is where survival is quiet, communal, and constantly on the verge of collapse. A place where the city did not win—and neither did the dead.