Bleedsap Timberland is the working forest of the Western March. Timber and resin from this forest keep forts standing and roads passable. The March treats the forest as a controlled resource and a threat that must be contained. People enter to work, not to live, and many do not return.
The forest canopy is dense and blocks most light. The ground stays dark, damp in places, and choked with roots and dead growth. Dry river channels cut through the woods as cracked scars where nothing grows. The air smells sharp and foul, and insects gather wherever bark is cut or blood spills.
Old watchtowers stand along straight clearings cut through the trees. Some are repaired and manned. Others are burned out or collapsed, left as warnings or mistakes. Blackened stumps and old axe scars mark places where force was used to clear the forest.
Many trees bleed red resin when cut. The sap burns skin and turns small wounds into rot. Workers cover their arms and hands and move slowly to avoid slips. Resin is valuable and dangerous. Mishandling it ruins tools, bodies, and camps.
Spilled sap attracts insects, animals, and worse things from the forest. It also draws attention from anyone who wants to seize it. A single mistake can doom a crew.
The Western March controls the forest through force. Forts guard the cleared routes. Powerful holders control who cuts, hauls, and stores timber. Relief workers treat injuries but also report illegal camps when ordered to do so. Authority here is layered, and every layer takes its cut.
Legal work stays close to guarded routes and daylight. Illegal cutting happens deep in the forest and at night. Outlaw crews hide fresh stumps and move resin through smugglers who know where patrols are weak. Some smugglers help desperate workers survive. Most sell to whoever pays.
When crackdowns come, those in power blame the illegal crews. The illegal crews blame impossible demands. Violence follows.
Most workers are poor, displaced, or unwanted elsewhere. The work is brutal and tightly controlled. Water is guarded, food is limited, and rest is short. Camps stay quiet at dusk. Loud noise draws beasts and patrols.
Fires are kept small and hidden. Smoke carries far. Resin is handled with care and punishment follows carelessness. Anyone who risks exposing a camp risks everyone.
Before the Drying, rivers ran through this land and shaped its roads. Those routes now lead to empty channels and cracked basins. Old structures from that time still stand in places, reused or avoided.
Some towers and paths are shunned. People say the dead still move there at night. No one sends workers there unless they plan to lose them.
Temples maintain small footholds near the forest routes. Life treats injuries and keeps workers moving. Death handles the bodies and prevents rot from spreading. Fate justifies who is allowed to work and who is not.
Magic is rare and feared. Anyone known to wield it is watched closely, forced into service, or driven out. Power is tolerated only when it serves control.
The forest provides timber, resin, and charcoal. These materials keep forts standing and industry running. Small amounts of resin are used in harsh medical treatments despite the risk.
People also trade in trophies and fear-goods taken from the forest. Some are fake. Some mark real survival.
A powerful family hides a private water source under a forbidden route.
Dryads guide treants to illegal camps on purpose.
The resin is thickening because something beneath the roots is feeding.
The demands placed on the forest cannot be met legally in bad years. The March knows this. Illegal trade is tolerated because it keeps the system alive. Crackdowns are used to remove rivals and seize stock.
Each purge leaves bodies behind. Bodies draw monsters. The cycle feeds itself, and the forest grows more dangerous every year.