The world exists in perpetual winter—an age of ice that has lasted for countless generations. No living person remembers a time of true warmth. Spring and summer are myths told in old stories. This is simply the world: snow, ice, bitter cold, and the endless struggle to survive until the next dawn.
Humanity has adapted. Towns huddle in sheltered valleys, walls protect against both cold and predators, and every scrap of warmth is precious. Fire is life. Community is survival. Winter is not a season—it is existence itself.
Silverwick sits in a deep river valley carved by the ancient flow of the River Ys. The valley walls rise steeply on three sides, providing natural protection from the worst winds and creating a microclimate slightly less brutal than the open tundra beyond. The river, fed by glacial melt from mountains to the north, flows year-round though it freezes thick enough to walk on for most of the year.
The valley floor is relatively flat, with the town built on the central island where the river splits. Beyond the walls lie The White Quilts—fields that were once farmland but now grow only the hardiest winter grains and root vegetables during the brief thaw. Even then, harvests are meager. Most food comes from hunting, fishing, and preserved stores.
To the North: The Frostpeak Mountains, eternally snow-capped, impassable most of the year. Glaciers creep down their slopes. No one knows what lies beyond.
To the East: Rolling tundra stretching to the horizon. Scattered settlements exist along the trade routes, each a few days' journey apart. Traders brave these paths during the thaw, but winter makes travel deadly.
To the West: The Great Forest—ancient pines and frost-hardened oaks that have survived the endless winter. The forest is dangerous: home to predators, Frost-Walkers, and older things. The Thornheart Grove lies somewhere deep within.
To the South: More river valleys and small settlements, eventually leading to larger towns in slightly warmer lowlands. "Warmer" is relative—it means death by exposure takes hours instead of minutes.
The ice age has brought back creatures from ancient times, or perhaps they never truly left:
Wooly Mammoths: Massive, shaggy beasts that migrate through the valleys. Occasionally hunted for meat, fur, and ivory, but dangerous prey requiring coordinated efforts.
Dire Wolves: Larger than normal wolves, pack hunters with intelligence and patience. They test the walls regularly.
Saber-Tooth Cats: Solitary ambush predators, rare but deadly. A saber-tooth in the valley sends everyone behind walls.
Snow Elk: Large, antlered herbivores, primary game for hunters. Their thick fur is prized.
Frost Hares, Ice Foxes, Tundra Bears: Smaller game and predators that round out the ecosystem.
Not all predators are natural. Some animals become corrupted by deep magic, twisted into something wrong. Their fur becomes white as fresh snow regardless of original color. Their eyes turn pale blue, almost glowing. They move with unnatural coordination, hunt with eerie intelligence, and their bite spreads the infection.
The Three Types:
Frost-Walkers (Infected Dire Wolves): The most common threat. Infected wolves that hunt in coordinated packs with disturbing intelligence. They test the walls, probe for weaknesses, seem to communicate beyond normal pack behavior. These are what threaten Silverwick most directly, cutting off trade routes and herding prey—or people.
Frost-Shields (Infected Bears): Massive, nearly unstoppable juggernauts. Their thick fur becomes impenetrable white armor, and they can shrug off arrows and spears. Thankfully rare, but a Frost-Shield attack on a town is a disaster. They're called "Shields" because their hide deflects weapons like iron plate.
Frost-Stalkers (Infected Saber-Tooth Cats): Nightmares made flesh. Solitary ambush predators that move with supernatural silence. Their pale blue eyes are the last thing many travelers see. Fast, deadly, intelligent enough to open simple latches. The most feared of all infected creatures.
Frost-Titans (Infected Mammoths): Spoken of in hushed tones. The last one attacked Silverwick's walls sixty years ago—it took three days, two dozen dead, and a coordinated effort with fire and Red Iron spears to bring it down. People still point to the rebuilt section of wall. Legendary threats that appear once in a generation, if that.
Trade and Isolation
During the brief thaw (what Silverwick calls "summer"), the river runs fast and trade routes open. Merchants like Caldor travel between settlements, bringing goods, news, and connection to the wider world. Towns trade preserved food, furs, crafted goods, information.
But for eight months of the year, each settlement is alone. The snow is too deep, the cold too bitter, the predators too bold. Survival depends on what you stored, what you can hunt, and who stands beside you when the wolves come to the walls.
Silverwick is more isolated than most—the valley is difficult to reach, and the forest to the west discourages approach. This isolation is both protection and prison.