Town of the Greenwood Expanse
Seonon is a town of Battania held by Mormaer Luichan of Clan fen Penraic. The villages of Andurn, Bryn Glas, Mag Arba, and Swenryn are bound to Seonon, feeding its halls with grain, wool, timber, and young fighters when war calls. The town lies beside the dark waters of Llyn Tywal, a deep lake cupped by forested slopes and misted hollows. Fog clings to its surface at dawn and dusk, turning the shoreline into a place of half-seen shapes and whispered memory.
Seonon’s name is spoken with a certain quiet weight across the Greenwood. The old story of Algana the Fair and her beloved Gorawan is tied to the lake itself. It is said that Algana stood upon the tower overlooking Llyn Tywal, lamenting Gorawan’s death until the sorrow of her mourning stirred the spirits of the Otherworld. For one day and one night, Gorawan’s shade rose from the pool to walk beside her. Whether taken as myth, omen, or memory reshaped by grief, the tale has made Seonon a place where Battanians speak softly of love, loss, and the thinness of the veil between life and death. The lake is not worshipped, but it is treated with caution and respect. Few fish its deepest waters. Fewer still swim.
In more recent memory, Seonon has been scarred by war. Sturgian raiders have struck its outskirts more than once, slipping through forest paths and river routes to burn farms and steal herds before melting back into the fog. Not far from the town lies the wood where King Aeril vanished, clearing the path for Caladog’s rise to the High Kingship. This has left Seonon with a lingering reputation as a place where fate turns sharply and quietly. The people of Seonon do not believe the land is cursed, but they do believe it remembers blood.
Under Luichan fen Penraic, Seonon is governed with uncommon restraint. Luichan is known across Battania as noble in conduct and generous in victory. He prefers to let beaten enemies withdraw rather than grind them into the soil, believing that terror poisons the Greenwood more deeply than it protects it. His arrows are precise, his tactics disciplined, and his warbands well-drilled for fighting in broken ground. In council, Luichan speaks for the idea that the Twenty of Dunthanach should be guardians of the land rather than executioners of its enemies. This stance has earned him quiet rivals among those who favor cruelty as deterrence.
Luichan’s domain is notably well-kept by Greenwood standards. Paths are maintained. Hill-forts are provisioned. Villages are encouraged to rotate watch duties and share warning fires. In his travels, both for war and for personal wandering, Luichan has paid notable peasants, artisans, and skilled outsiders to settle in his holdings. He offers land-rights, protection, and a chance to become part of the Greenwood rather than remain outsiders at its edge. This policy has slowly turned Seonon into a hive of knowledge by Calradic standards. Healers, fletchers, bee-tenders, brewers, and silk-workers mingle with clan folk, trading techniques and stories that would be hoarded in other regions.
Seonon is one of the few places in the Greenwood Expanse where outsiders may openly live and become part of the local culture, provided they are not beholden to another kingdom. Those who settle must swear loyalty not to Luichan alone, but to the people of the Greenwood, to the tree and the animal, and to the customs of the land. This oath is taken seriously. Those who break it find no shelter in Seonon’s halls and no protection in its forests. Those who keep it are treated as kin, regardless of blood.
The town itself reflects this openness. Its market is crowded with mixed faces and tongues. Stories of distant roads are told beside clan hearths. Knowledge flows more freely here than in most Battanian towns, making Seonon a place where change takes root slowly but surely. This has made the town prosperous in craft and trade, but it has also drawn the attention of raiders, rivals, and those who resent Luichan’s mercy. Seonon stands as a quiet experiment within Battania: a place where the Greenwood opens its arms without lowering its guard, and where sorrow and welcome share the same misted shore.