Frontier Town of the Greenwood Expanse
Pen Cannoc is a town of Battania held by Mormaer Aeron of Clan fen Giall, perched on a jagged promontory overlooking the Trand River as it plunges from the Uchalion Plateau into the Vlandian lowlands. The town clings to stone above roaring water, its lower walls stained dark by mist and spray that rise constantly from the falls below. Narrow paths wind along sheer rock faces, and every approach to the town forces travelers to pass within bowshot of its heights. From Pen Cannoc’s walls, one can look down upon the lowlands of Vlandia, a view that reminds Battanians and Vlandians alike how close their border wars always are.
The Trand is no gentle river here. Above Pen Cannoc, the water churns through slick stone channels and plunges into dark pools that swirl beneath the cliffs. The fisherfolk of the region treat the upper Trand with a wary reverence. Nets are cast only from known ledges. Boats are never launched into the falls. Children are taught to test stone with poles before stepping, and even seasoned fishers move with care along the wet rock. Every family in Pen Cannoc can name someone who slipped and never surfaced again.
Old legends speak of water-nymphs dwelling in the dark pools below the promontory, luring travelers and invaders to their deaths with voices that echo from the mist. The Battanians do not worship these spirits, but they respect the danger they represent. When enemies fall screaming into the Trand, some whisper that the nymphs have taken their due. When a warrior survives a fall against all odds, others mutter that he was favored by the river. Such stories are told quietly, not as faith, but as warnings to treat the cliffs and water as living threats.
Pen Cannoc’s position makes it a frontline town in Battania’s long struggle with outside powers. Raiding parties from Sturgia and pressure from Vlandic patrols are constant concerns. Aeron fen Giall rules here with brutal directness, tolerating little dissent and encouraging aggressive patrols along the river approaches. His domain is loud with training horns, shouted orders, and the clash of weapons as his warbands drill for sudden alarms. The people of Pen Cannoc live with the expectation that war may arrive without warning, pouring up from the lowlands or slipping through forest paths above the falls.
The bound villages of Durn, Fenon Etir, and Gainseth are unusual in that they all produce the same good: clay. The riverbanks and surrounding lowlands near Pen Cannoc are rich with workable clay deposits, and entire families are tied to its digging, shaping, and firing. Kilns burn day and night in the villages, and caravans of unfired brick, tile, and pottery move constantly toward the town’s markets. This abundance has made Pen Cannoc the clay-heart of Calradia. Its market is often flooded with cheap clay goods, from cooking pots to roofing tiles. Builders from distant lands know that if they can reach Pen Cannoc safely, they can rebuild cheaply.
This single-resource economy is both a strength and a weakness. Pen Cannoc is wealthy in clay, but poor in diversity. When raids cut roads or floods ruin river paths, the town’s trade collapses quickly. The people of Pen Cannoc are keenly aware that their prosperity rests on brittle stone and slippery paths. This has bred a culture of hoarding surplus goods, building hidden caches into cliffside storerooms, and fortifying kiln-quarters against sudden attack.
Within the town, life is loud and tense. The constant thunder of falling water fills the streets. Clay dust coats everything, settling into cracks of stone and cloth alike. The air smells of wet rock, smoke from kilns, and river spray. Inns are crowded with scouts, messengers, and mercenaries seeking work along the border. Fights break out often, fueled by fear and bravado. Aeron’s enforcers break up unrest brutally but quickly, preferring broken bones to slow resentment.
Across Battania, Pen Cannoc is known as a place where the Greenwood meets the lowlands in violence. It is not a town of subtle politics or old ritual. It is a place of edges: cliffs, borders, tempers, and lives balanced above roaring water.