A small island of rough rock and thin soil in the northern Western Isles, easier to sail past than to hold. Its one anchorage worth the name belongs to the city-state of Iypos, which is reason enough for everyone to deal with Iypos and reason enough that no one has bothered to take the rest.
Position
Migos sits along the shipping lanes between the Iron Sea and the central Shattered Sea. Traffic passes within sight of it, and most of that traffic passes by. To the south lie the Whisper Isles and the Murmuring Isles; east runs Phyndarr Sound and the routes toward Sheîr. The island is well placed for a port and badly placed for anything else.
The interior
The interior is craggy but not grand. Broken hills, gullies, shelves of bare stone, and a little thin pasture in the folds where wind and salt allow it. No road crosses the island. Anyone wanting the far shore goes around by boat, because the overland route means a day of scrambling for nothing worth the bruises at the end. This is the whole of Migos's defense. There are no passes to garrison and no heights to seize, only ground that punishes an army for marching across it and rewards no one for the trouble. Migos has never been conquered for the plain reason that conquering it buys a rock.
Iypos and the harbor
Everything that matters on Migos happens at Iypos, on the southeastern coast, where the island's only sheltered deepwater harbor cuts in. The city lives off the ships that need it: resupply, repairs, and the brokerage of cargo bound elsewhere. Whoever holds that harbor holds the island's worth; the stone holds the rest. Iypos trades with all comers and binds itself to none, an aggressive neutrality that has kept it independent more reliably than any wall could. Its full account belongs to its own entry.
The fishing shore
On the western coast, away from Iypos's harbor, two small settlements work the water. Peri Selir and Toilir sit on sheltered coves, drying and salting their catch and sending what they can spare around to Iypos's markets by boat. Neither is large. Neither answers to much beyond its own tides and the price Iypos pays for fish. They are the only other places on Migos where people gather at all.
Why no one holds it
Migos stays independent for unremarkable reasons. The harbor is valuable but singular: take it and you own a port, not a country. The rest of the island offers an occupier nothing. The powers of the Shattered Sea would rather trade through Iypos than spend men holding worthless ground, and Iypos would rather sell to all of them than belong to any one. The arrangement lasts because breaking it serves no one's interest.