Lorwyn is an idyllic, storybook world where races of fable thrive in perpetual midsummer. The plane is covered with dense forests, meandering rivers, and gently rolling meadows. The sun never quite dips below the horizon, and winter is entirely unknown. Lorwyn is also notable for its lack of humans. The plane is dominated by its elves, who consider themselves arbiters and enforcers of natural beauty.
That's not to say Lorwyn is without conflict. Its races have their struggles and skirmishes, some isolated, some long-standing. Lorwyn is one of the few planes without humans, but many other races fill in the gap. In the outlying town of Burrenton, for example, the short-statured kithkin face the encroachment of a nearby flamekin settlement. The flamekin are the race perhaps least at home in sunny Lorwyn. Their natural fires are a threat to others who are suspicious of their impulsive natures and hot tempers.
Far away in the Porringer Valley, gangs of boggarts sneak in amid groves of treefolk to make trouble and steal "souvenirs" of their trespasses. The boggarts are greedy for sensation, always seeking out new tastes, smells, and experiences. Each boggart warren visits others for their "footbottom feasts," a chance to share the experiences accumulated by other warrens.
As these squabbles continue, the merrows, the merfolk of Lorwyn's rivers, act as diplomats, couriers, and merchants for the other races. They use underground channels and wells as conduits for communication, and because the merrows are intelligent and kind, they usually end up getting the better end of the deal.
If the merrows are Lorwyn's merchants, the giants are its arbiters and advisors. The iconoclastic, territorial giants wander Lorwyn according to their own whims, only occasionally stopping to address the concerns or complaints of the little folk. The rest of the time they sleep or bicker among themselves.
Of all Lorwyn's denizens, though, the elves are both most favored and most feared. In a world of unspoiled nature and lush forest, the elves believe themselves to be the paragons of natural beauty. Signs of elvish supremacy are widespread in this world, from their gilded forest palaces to their mercilessness toward the other, "lesser" races. Despite the elves' domination, Lorwyn's people thrive through community and tradition, and perhaps with some help from an unseen power.
Faeries are ubiquitous in Lorwyn, like bees gathering pollen. Although the capricious and mischievous creatures seem to behave unpredictably, all are guided by the will of Oona, the queen of the fae. Oona's magic is said to keep Lorwyn in its midsummer state, but few have ever seen her. Her throne, Glen Elendra, is a half-mythical place that few but the fae have ever seen.
Lorwyn is a verdant land. With the sun never going down and winter constantly held at arm's reach, Lorwyn's growing season is unending. Lorwyn’s plains are meadows and fields of clover or timothy, lush and green. Lorwyn has no oceans, but it does have flooded areas and still lakes large enough to be called seas. Lorwyn's system of rivers branch all the way to the horizon, dominated by a central trunk called the Wanderwine River. Together these rivers and tributaries are called the Merrow Lanes, waterways patrolled and controlled by Lorwyn's crafty merfolk. Lorwyn has no large seas or oceans, only the Lanes and some ponds and small lakes. There are some mountain ranges, but they all seem pretty far off in the distance no matter how far you walk.
The inhabited portions of Lorwyn are ringed by meandering, seemingly ever-distant mountain slopes. These are rough, trailless slopes, so it is not recommended that you hike them without proper magics. This is the realm of giants, some wanderlust-stricken flamekin, and hostile greater elementals.
Lorwyn is ancient and verdant, and its natural processes are locked in familiar cycles. For instance, every year for countless decades, the kithkin town of Kinsbaile has hosted the Festival of Tales, a gathering to tell stories and make merry before the Aurora, an annually occurring display of lights in the sunset sky. But some auroras are greater than others. On a long cycle that only the faerie queen Oona comprehends, a far more dramatic Great Aurora sweeps across the plane, fundamentally transforming almost every creature and entity across the world. This change even alters the memories of the world’s inhabitants. Afterward, what remains is the plane of Shadowmoor, a realm of eternal dusk.
Lorwyn appears as an old, rumpled map, a shining green disk, unfurled against the inky blackness of the Blind Eternities, with mountains, trees, and the occasional lumbering giant sticking up in various places. The sun arcs its way from one horizon to the other, and the denizens of the plane count the hours of their day. Then when the faithful star dips down close to the horizon somewhere beyond the mountains that seem to ring the plane, it slows and stops, then turns around again. No nighttime - it's just morning after morning.
Countries and Realms of Lorwyn
Geographical Features on Lorwyn
Cities on Lorwyn