the Northern Wastes

The Northern Wastes. Once, the last outpost of the Empire. A testing ground for young heroes and a cold grave for old champions. An abode of giants and ice drakes.

A perpetual frozen wind blows across the Northern Wastes, down from the Dragon's Teeth. It is said the sun never shows his face in the Wastes, except to weep at its cold vastness. Indeed, the gods themselves seem to have forsaken such a place. Krolos, Lord of Battle and the cold places of the world, warred here against the Old Ones. It is their dying breath that still blows down from the mountains. After his fight, the wounded Krolos left, never to return. Where his blood dripped, pools of magma formed. These hot spots are the only source of warm in an otherwise frozen land.
For a time, people settled around these warm places, making their trade in furs and plunder from the sea. But they too, were consumed by the hungry cold. Their tombs are still heaped in treasure, it is said.
Brave, or foolish, is the adventurer who seeks fortune in the Wastes.