The Moonsway Highlands
Where the Wind Carries Songs and the Packs Run Free
Stretching between the silent stone of the Veil of Moar and the icy fjords of the Kaldurreach, the Moonsway Highlands are a vast, untamed expanse of rolling hills, wind-bent pine forests, and moonlit glades. This is the homeland of Clan Faolán, where life moves with the seasons, and the spirit of the land runs beside the people like a loyal hound.
The highlands are not uniform. In the south, steep ridges descend into misty vales threaded with clearwater streams, while the north opens into wide plateaus broken by granite outcrops and cold lakes ringed by red-touched pines. Herds of staghorn elk roam these open stretches, followed by hunters and pathfinder bands whose camps shift with the herds. Even in winter, the Highlands do not slumber — they breathe in quiet motion, ever restless. Faolán settlements are hearth-circles rather than towns — gatherings of wooden longhalls, animal hides, and stone fire-pits, occupied in turn as the clans migrate from season to season. Though they may look temporary, each is sacred to its own circle, marked with carvings and charms that preserve the memory of past winters, hunts, and names. No hearth stands empty long; the pack always returns. The Highlands are deeply spiritual, not through solemnity, but through shared motion and ancestral rhythm. Druidic stones mark the phases of the moon, and rituals are held beneath silver-lit skies — dances, chants, and binding oaths performed as much in movement as in word. The moon governs all things in the Moonsway: hunts, births, pairings, and even declarations of war. It is said that the moon guides the Faolán in battle, too — that warbands strike hardest under waxing light and vanish like smoke beneath a new moon. Roads do not cross the Highlands, only trails known by memory and the lay of stone. Outsiders often lose their way here, even those with maps — for the land itself changes its face to those who walk without permission. Despite their freedom-loving ways, the people of the Highlands are not lawless. Every circle answers to the Pack, the communal will of the clan, guided by the wisdom of the druids and the strength of their warleaders. High Druid Maerla Windbound is a near-constant presence, moving from hearth to hearth, ensuring that no one circle strays too far from the spirit of the clan. To outsiders, the Moonsway Highlands are wild and unpredictable. To the Faolán, they are home — a living, breathing land of memory, motion, and song.“We do not build walls in the Moonsway. The wind knows our names, and that is enough.” — Maerla Windbound, High Druid of Clan Faolán
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