Theme: Eternal Winter, Divine Isolation, Frozen Oaths
Gods: Boreas (North Wind), Khione (Snow Maiden), Hermes (Winter Messenger)
The Frostlands of Boreas stretch across Hellenara’s northernmost expanse—a realm where the sun’s warmth is a memory. Beyond the Skyreach Peaks lies a land forged by divine breath, where Boreas, the North Wind, exhaled his eternal blizzard to seal away the arrogance of mortals who once sought to bind the winds themselves.
Sheets of glacial glass and oceans locked in permafrost define the region. The air crackles with divine chill; whispers on the wind bear the voices of those who froze without forgiveness. The geography is a study in paradox—terrible beauty paired with silent cruelty. Ice cliffs rise like cathedral walls, and frost plains roll into tundra blanketed with snowflowers that bloom only under the aurora’s pulse.
There is no unified kingdom here—only survival and reverence. The Frostlands recognize no crown but the wind’s howl. The hardy Hyperborean clans persist in small enclaves, trading in warmth, stories, and furs. Among them are sacred orders like the Boreal Covenant, priests and warriors who preserve the "Balance of Stillness," and the half-mythic Glacial Tribes, who wield icesteel weapons and sing to the blizzard.
Recently, the North has tightened its grip on the world. The age began with the Long Howl, a seven-night wind that drove sea-ice south, crippling naval trade and halting military campaigns. In its wake, Hyperborean caravans opened the White Roads, new ice-routes for trade conducted on strict northern terms. Boreas's sons, the Boreads, have been seen riding the winds, harrying monsters. The cold has also brought forth Rimebound Things: remorhaz drum beneath the snow, white wyrms cast shadows over the ice, and a city of frost giants has moved closer to the southern tree-line. In response, northern elders have issued the Pact of Hearths, demanding that southern cities maintain public flames to keep the growing darkness at bay, lest a squall answer the insult.
Citadel of the Wind Lord: An ancient bastion half-buried in a glacier, now home to the Boreal Covenant. Its great horn, the Keraunos Aeonis, is sounded once per century to shape the next age of storms.
The Sleeping Ram: A great glacier where, according to rumor, a bronze war-horn—the Horn in the Ice—lies locked in blue stone. The ice around it is said to be thinning, and if the wrong lips find it, a summer may fail.
Frozen Lake of Prophecy: At the Frostlands’ heart lies a mirror of perfect ice where pilgrims seek visions of their own failings.
Khione’s Hollow: A cavern of silver frost where the Snow Maiden, Khione, is said to sleep. Priestesses dwell here, weaving tapestries of ice that depict past and future.
The Frostwaste Expanse: A boundless sea of frost dunes where Remorhaz titans and Frost Wyrms roam.
The Shard Forest: A crystalline woodland where every branch and leaf is carved from translucent ice that sings in the wind.
The Frostlanders are few, but their faiths are practical. Devotees of Boreas worship through endurance, while Khione’s cult offers protection through sacrifice. Hermes is honored as Hermes Anemos, the wind-guide who ferries lost souls. Coins mean little here—warmth, firewood, and stories are the true currency. Oaths sworn here carry immense weight; it is said that a Styx oath sworn with a breath you can see feels different in the lungs—and holds tighter.
The Frostlands teem with divine predators and ancient spirits: Frost Giants rule the mountains, Winter Wolves serve as Boreas’s scouts, and White Dragons nest in ruined citadels. Encounters here are less about survival and more about reverence; to kill without offering tribute to the land risks waking the storm itself.
Long ago, the Frostlands were temperate. The Empire of Aeon harnessed the winds with "Aether Forges," stealing power from the gods. In retribution, Boreas shattered the sky, casting their cities into snow and silence. The Citadel of the Wind Lord is the last remnant of that age. Some scholars whisper that deep beneath the Lake of Prophecy lies the Aeon Engine, a godheart machine still beating with forbidden wind.
The Frostlands are not merely hostile—they are holy. Every step crunches on centuries of silence. Heroes come here not for gold, but for meaning.
Investigate the thinning ice around the Horn in the Ice before it falls into the wrong hands.
Escort a dying prophet to the Frozen Lake for his final vision.
Negotiate with Hyperborean clans for safe passage along the White Roads.
Stop a southern cult from reigniting the forbidden Aeon Engine.