Jaagrom of Valhedge
The Last Bastion of the North
The Jaagrom of Valhedge is a northern nation ruled by the Jaagr Vilkrum Verki, who leads from the city of Stamtur. The nation is steeped in reverence for its history, with honour and dishonour passing down through family bloodlines. The Margraves of each town report directly to the Jaagr, and titles are held within a bloodline until someone does something worthy of losing what their ancestors gained before them. Valhedge is a land of snow, ice, and conifer trees, and its people respect the Spirit Oasis and believe more in the power of wild spirits than that of any deity.
The Jaagrom of Valhedge rules where the world turns white, where the snow drowns the land and only the strongest endure. Here, survival is not just a struggle against the elements but a battle for honour, for vengeance, for the right to be remembered. Divided into Marches, ruled by Margraves, and overseen by the silent guidance of the Andeslag, the Jaagrom is a warrior’s dominion. Its people are bound to the spirits that sing in the ice and to the blood feuds that have shaped their history. To the south, their ancestral enemy—the Ice Dwarves of Orichlan—sit in their stolen halls, bolstered by the treacherous mainland kings who once called the north their ally. Five wars have carved scars into the tundra, yet the Valhedge do not forget. They have learned patience, but patience is not forgiveness.
Led for centuries by the Verki, they are a people of carved steel and hunted furs, of runes etched into their armour and burdens etched into their souls. They claim descent from Ruaidrí Cessair, the first recorded Jaagr, and in their veins runs the ice of a lineage that was denied its place among the great houses of Gaul. At the end of the Thousand Year Silence, Jandar Verki bled beside the Six Heroes, stood against the Onyx Aelves, and sacrificed as much as any. All but Jandar were granted the divine gifts of Dhara. Yet when the risen craftsman bestowed the Ennobled Blood, the north was left empty-handed, its valour unrecognized, its dead uncounted. The Verki, the warriors of Valhedge, were cast aside as footnotes in the history they had helped to forge.
The Northfeith march beneath banners of old grudges and colder resolve, while the Dianan Mór commune with the voices of those who fell. Among their rituals, exile carries a weight heavier than death, for dishonour stains the bloodline until it is cleansed by future deeds. Their warriors do not fight for personal glory but for the redemption of their ancestors, for the promise that their name will be spoken with respect when the winds howl over their graves. They are not broken. They are waiting.
North of the last outposts of civilization, beyond where even the stubborn march of the Jaagrom could find purchase, the Verki Bërgkin still sharpen their blades in the dark. These are the loyalists, the exiles who refused to bend, the remnants of those who once ruled from Bërg Verki before it was handed away by cowards and kings. To the mainland lords, they are relics of a bitter past; to Valhedge, they are proof that their fight is not over. The Bërgkin do not mourn the past—they prepare for the reckoning to come.
Each winter buries their numbers beneath the drifts, but the survivors remain unshaken. They carve their runes, they speak their oaths, and they dream of the day when the Six Houses will finally acknowledge the truth: that a seventh throne was always meant to stand beside them, and that the north was never meant to kneel.
Type
Geopolitical, Country
Capital
Leader
Leader Title
Head of State
Official State Religion
Subsidiary Organizations
Location
Official Languages
Neighboring Nations
Notable Members
Related Ethnicities