The Seasons of Owtdare

Seasonal Festivals of Owtdare

Owtdare does not follow the type of calendar you might usually be familiar with. Time here is marked by the turning of the land — by the waxing and waning of light, the rustle of leaves, and the hum of unseen magic. These four festivals shape the rhythm of life, celebrated across cultures with different customs, but the same deep respect for the changing year.

Yule

The turning of the year. The deep hush of winter. The defence against the cold. When the dark has reached its deepest hush, and the days are at their shortest, the people of Owtdare gather for Yuletide. It marks the end of the old year and the first quiet breath of the new. Feasts and festivals last two or three days. Some are shared beneath the trees; others indoors, around fire and lantern-glow. Yuletide is also when Jack Frost walks the land — a cold-hearted figure from the frozen south, who rides out with his army, the Frostwind, to spread the stillness of winter. It is said the only power that can hold him at bay is warmth — the laughter, song, and kindness shared by communities who gather in joy.

Without Yule, Jack’s frost would never break, but without winter the trees would grow wild and mad with no sleep.

Greentide

The rising sap. The first thaw. The return of light and life. When the ground softens and the light begins to stretch, Owtdare celebrates Greentide. This is the season of the Great White Stag, who chases the Wolf of Winter into the shadows. Some say you can catch a glimpse of him at dawn, his antlers crowned in frost and light. Folk rise early and gather in woodland groves, stone circles, or dew-damp city squares. Seeds are sown. Dances are shared. Old friends reunited. In some places, the celebration lasts for days.

The forest does not wake quickly. But once it stirs, it does not sleep again for a long while.

Midsummer’s Eve

The longest light. The bright hum of the woods. The secret questions of fireflies. Midsummer’s Eve is celebrated when the sun lingers longest in the sky. The forest is full and loud — birdsong, insects, the soft call of green things rising. While city-folk have begun to let the tradition fade, in rural places it remains strong. Fires are lit in meadows. Mead is brewed with spring honey. Wishes are tied to trees. And sometimes, just sometimes, the forest answers back.

Some say if you ask the woods a question on Midsummer’s Eve, it may whisper a reply… if you’re patient enough to hear it.

Fallwane

The year’s quiet turning. The rustle of dry leaves. A season of memory and small kindnesses. As the days begin to shorten and the woods turn gold, Owtdare marks the start of Fallwane. It is the hush before the long sleep — a time for harvest, gathering, and remembrance. Markets brim with preserved goods. Lanterns glow in windows. Children leave small offerings beneath trees and stones in honour of those who came before.