Felim collapsed into the snow, exhausted. It felt like it would be the last fall this time, his limbs stiffening and flesh numb. The adventurer had heard of natives that thrived out here, men who slew bears and made coats of seal fur. But who could build anything out here...?
Just as he felt light start to fade, Felim cast his gaze up to see the sky one last time. He was startled - or would have been, if his body had the energy - to see a furred hood and a leathery face with a toothless grin. "Ho there, brother!" it spoke. "You came to just the right place."
The hyperborean realm of the Eternal Flame
A city made of ice, in a chasm where sunlight is missing, that trades in one of the most unusual, but useful natural resources in the world.
Welcome to Jirix traveler. I hope you enjoy your very colorful stay.
The City of Bells, home of Bornegault’s Tongue.
A fey kingdom fallen, with winter triumphant. A dream frozen, to be thawed by might and heroic deed.
Once merely a minor Realm of an ambitious Prince of the Nether, the Gloom has been conquered and now lies ruled by Winter’s cruel grip.
In the summer there is a small stone jail for those who are caught breaking the rules of the Sorcery Springs Geyser Basin, but in winter they are imprisoned within the warm waters themselves. No bolts or bars are needed, the cold takes the place of prison walls.
Deep in the frozen north, facing the northern sea lies Corpsehaven a city built into a sheer cliff, a walled city that extends to the sea. This city is a silent place, filled with the dead and those that would consort with such creatures.
Tower Isle gets it’s name from the tower of gleaming ice that climbs high above the surface.In the summer it gleams in the sunlight and can be seen for miles away.But even in the summer the tempreture never climbs above -5 degrees, and in the winter it is not a place where most people would want to be.Myths say that a king slumbers there waiting for the world to end.
Avon is the southmost city state in Thirdland, built in a natural protected harbor. The climate there is colder and wetter than most parts of Thirdland, so the buildings are sturdier and more utilitarian than in Amar or Antioch even.
One day a a wind begins to blow out of the West. The next day it gets stronger. And stronger still the next few days. Eventually (and fortunately), the speed of the wind tops out at a steady fifty miles an hour, but continues to blow. Soon an entire kingdom is wondering why it's not abating. The weather mages deem it unnatural but can't seem to banish or control it. The priests of various faiths claim it's divine. The End-Of-Days crowd is having a field day with their predictions of doom. No one knows why the gale persists. When inquiring with neighboring kingdoms, it seems they too suffer from a persistent western mistral. Eventually the populace begins to adapt to living with a twenty four hour a day wind. Always from the West, and perpetual. What could be causing this? A raging Elemental king? a curse from the gods? an unearthed artifact? Or has Nature itself gone haywire?