Lavandul remains a small, tight-knit agricultural town. Their life revolves around the seasons, the rhythm of planting and harvest, and the continued worship of Herne through daily rituals. The people live simply, but with quiet pride in their traditions and the beauty of their surroundings.

Lavandul’s primary economic strength lies in its lavender fields, which are considered among the finest in all of Atalav. Other crops are also grown, but are much less common and are not quite comparable to their signature crop. Alongside plant agriculture is a thriving companion population consisting of native lapines, chimebirds, and baattons. There is also an occasional bronze tool trade, consisting of small crafted items during festival markets.

Lavandulans are seen as quaint or old-fashioned by more populous cities, but they’re respected for the quality of their goods and their connection to the land.

Lavandulan homes and buildings are primarily built from sun-dried mudbrick or wattles. All material comes from ethically harvested areas where material either broke off from its larger self or was a danger to those around it. Additionally, ny material used can also be used over and over again. Either to create more structures, to border a garden, or to even just nourish a field.

A noticeable structural motif of circles, representing the circular nature of an agricultural life, is commonly used to both build and decorate buildings. Whether in regards to a residence being built with a circular floorplan or having and entire neighborhood construct a circle in and of itself. Herbs will be braided into long strips and tied into ornate circular wreaths to be hung as decoration.

It is said that Lavandul is where Herne came to rest after his fabled battle with Fenris. Wounded and weary, Herne collapsed upon the land, his blood seeping into the soil, thick with sorrow and strength. Where it touched, the earth darkened—not with decay, but with a deep, nourishing richness. From that sacred ground, the first lavender sprigs began to bloom.

To the people of Lavandul, this land is not merely fertile - it is sacred. Every harvest is seen as a gift from Herne’s sacrifice, a living testament to Herne's presence. The lavender, now a symbol woven into every part of daily life, carries deeper meaning. Its scent is more than fragrance—it is memory. It reminds the people of the god who bled for life to continue, and of the strength found in vulnerability. To walk through a lavender field is to walk through a story of pain turned into beauty, of weakness overcome with quiet endurance.

In times of hardship, Lavandulans will crush a sprig between their fingers and breathe deeply, offering a silent prayer not just to survive, but to thrive - as Herne once did. Festivals mark the season of his fall, with rituals of planting and healing, where songs echo the battle’s end and the peace that followed.

Here, worship is not built on fear or grandeur. It is rooted in the soil, in healing, and in the slow but certain return to life.

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In Lavandul, devotion to Herne takes on a gentler, more grounded form than in other regions. The Faunids of Lavandul offer their worship through lived gratitude. They worship for the present moment, the changing of seasons, and the miracle of fertile earth. Herne is not just remembered but felt in every budding sprig and cooling breeze. Prayers to Herne are not confined to temples; they’re sung among the fields, whispered over cups of lavender tea, and woven into the rhythms of daily life. It is said that Herne’s hands sow the seeds; His blood flows through the roots and nourish the very land that gives Lavandul its renown. Here, worship is a harvest of joy, a celebration of now, and a thank you written in lavender and loam.

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The "Blood Grove" is a large and expansive circular sanctuary that grows wild - rumored to be where Herne had fallen and bled out. It is exclusively tended to by Tellers and Master Herbalists. No crop is allowed to grow on this sacred land and is only to be enjoyed in it's natural state. This is a common place for mothers and fathers to bring newly born fawns, a place where lovers will bond through bouts of passion and adoration, a place where you can feel Herne's presence in both land and sky.