You find yourself passing through Turnbeek, the last civilized outpost in the northeastern Ceothan Empire. Likely, you're resting up after a journey you took for some other reason--maybe a visit, a quest, or just a mercenary job.
Nestled between the steep Verwall Range and the Brtov Sea to the southeast, it is the last major city between civilization and hundreds of miles of open plain; and beyond that, countless miles of unexplored tundra.
While the rough and tumble outposts beyond are ruled by the maxim "might makes right," Turnbeek has an air of respectability--if only because it is not so far out in the frozen wilderness that the Empire does not have eyes on it.
But trade guilds, companies, and the town council do some questionable things to get by. It is not so crass as an honor among thieves; perhaps it's better described as an alternate definition of fairness.
The economy is driven by miners, fur traders, hunters, and ruin scavengers. A black market thrives as they all sell the first cut of their spoils under the table before shipping the rest back home to their employer. A duke or duchess in Fallrest would be scandalized to learn what goes on in the place their coal and fine coats come from.
A pass through the mountains, between Turnbeek and Kozyl on the Brtov Sea (and the rest of the continent of Thurn beyond).