Lake Selenmere

Waters, Law, and the Life it Anchors

Lake Selenmere sits south of the Verdwood. It is cold, deep, and steady across the seasons. Old stone rests under its eastern waters. Fog is common in the mornings and can hide the shore within a few breaths. Selenford, a lakeside village, keeps an old pier and supports fishers and river trade. People tell of shapes in the mist and movements below the surface, but real hazards are simpler: hard pulls, unseen rips, and poor sightlines when fog settles. Lake work here is quiet, careful, and tied to rules that keep boats upright and families fed.

Selenmere is part of a wider order. Naath stands to the north, ruled in the open by the Naath Council, guided by Lorekeepers who track the ley and enforce safe practice. Wardens of Rootwatch keep the forest boundary. The Seekers answer work beyond the regular patrols when trouble rises. Together these groups set the tone: speak plainly, post laws, and watch the land before it becomes a problem. The lake is no exception to this habit.

Law on the Water and Those Who Keep It

The Lake-Wardens of Selenmere tie their boats at Selenford. They set catch limits, post weather boards, and carry out the ban on reckless spellwork near the shore. When the water stirs or fog drops fast, they are first out and last in. They carry lines, hooks, and plain iron, and wear oiled cloaks against spray. Their oath binds them to the water and to the people who depend on it.

Magic near the lake follows public rules. Work that risks the ley or safety needs sanction. Casting over Selenmere without a warden present is banned. Weather workings require a lake-warden on site. The Cloister teaches that power has weight; used with care it helps, used without care it harms land and people long after the caster walks away. These rules cover local and foreign practices. They exist to protect the ground, the water, and those who live by both.

Disputes follow clear lines. Issues of water or weather near Selenmere go to the lake-wardens. Market conflicts go to merchant arbiters. Hard cases reach the Council, which posts judgments in public. Fines, permit losses, and, in rare cases, exile, keep order without turning trade or travel into fear. The habit of posting decisions makes the next decision easier to accept.

Shores, Villages, and Work of the Lake

Work on Selenmere follows seasons. In spring and early summer, the Stillnet Groves along the northern bend fill with eels, scalefin, and shell-crawlers. Nets are anchored to the reed stems, checked by quiet poleboat at first light, and recorded against permits to prevent waste. The wardens keep seasonal counts and post closures when numbers dip. The Groves feed Selenford and supply steady trade up the river. In thick fog, boats use paired bells and slow strokes; the wardens’ lantern posts mark the safest approaches back to the pier.

Whisperglen Hollow sits in the western hills above a bright, shallow stream. Mist often lingers there through noon. Hunters move slow, and wardens advise respect in late bloom when bears bring cubs to the water. Old druid glyphs cut into a fallen log show this has been a rite ground before. Today it is a place to pass in quiet, not a place to settle or claim.

Ashmere Stand lies in the shallows along the reed edge: pale-barked trees with a mesh of roots just above the water. Giant owls rest in the canopy by day. Large snakes move in the channels below. The two keep each other in check. Travelers leave small offerings and do not linger. The lake reflects little light here, and even a sure step becomes slow on wet roots. Wardens post it as a no-camp zone.

Sablewatch Ridge rises above the northern bank and holds a collapsed stone post with a carved sigil of a closed eye over a ripple. Bears there mark trees in looping arcs. Foragers move with pairs, make noise, and leave before dusk. The ridge is a good vantage for weather watching. Lake patrols climb it to scan the fog line and wind set before they choose routes.

Trade ties the shore to the city. The Merchant Guild issues permits for the Groves and for storage courts near the pier. Guild seals on crates smooth passage through the market, but they also bring audits. Selenford families keep careful ledgers; a lost permit means a season’s income gone. When numbers look too tight, the Council and Guild can open relief stores or adjust quotas, and those orders are posted like any other.

Depths, Ruins, and Quiet Risks

The lake floor is mapped by habit more than by chart. Three places matter to every deep patrol.

The Eastern Pillars stand in ordered rows along the eastern arc. They are the remains of an old structure, set deep enough to avoid ice and shallow enough to serve as markers in fog. The wardens use the Pillars as a checkpoint and a training ground for young divers. Rope lines span a few gaps for practice runs. From their spacing and set, the Lorekeepers think they once held a walkway, but the function today is simple: depth marks and a safe way to teach orientation.

Near the center, the Deep Sump Cavern pulls cold water down into a cave system. It keeps the lake steady in flood season by draining the surge through shelves and hollow rock. The wardens monitor it after storms, recover branches and silt that can choke the throat, and reset weighted markers to track the flow. No casual dives are allowed there. If a net drifts toward the draw, cutters go out fast to lift it clear before a boat is dragged off line.

On a stone shelf above the central drop rests the Threshold Cairn: a wide ring of boulders with a narrow opening facing northeast. It marks the change from reed-laced shallows to the dark trench. Patrol routes pivot on it. Mapping crews have adopted it as a fixed point for measuring silt and current shifts because the stones do not move even as the bed around them does.

East of the Pillars, a collapsed structure—the Drowned Archive—holds carved slabs and inlays in a fragile corridor. The Lorekeepers believe it recorded ley patterns or sky paths. Access is restricted to trained divers under warden watch. Fragments of root-glyph have been brought to the Leyshade Cloister for study and sealed when not in use. The long-term plan is slow: stabilize where possible, draw the plan of what remains, and avoid collapses that would bury what can still be read. The Cloister leads the study; the wardens enforce the pace.

Risk is managed with simple rules. Fog and storm advisories are posted by dawn in busy seasons. The lake-wardens check the Pillars, the Sump, and the Cairn after every heavy weather shift. Fishers follow flagged lanes and return to the pier at set bells. If a crew goes missing, the Seekers are hired to sweep the outer arcs while wardens hold the near water. Those contracts carry strict terms: report all sign, do not open sealed doors, and leave spellwork to sanctioned hands.

The lake is part of the same order that guides Naath: public rules, posted boards, and steady hands. People here treat Selenmere with the same care they bring to roads, shrines, and markets. The result is simple. Boats go out and return. Families eat. Old places are studied, not broken. Trouble is met with a plan and a witness. The habit of respect keeps Selenmere useful and keeps those who live by it alive.