Fjord

The Fjord is a harsh and unforgiving land. Proud and fiercely independent, its people are born warriors, with a strong raiding culture. While there are many individual tribes three large tribes claim dominion over these lands, One tribe unflinchingly honors the traditions that have ensured its survival; another follows the dream of a united future, as foretold by a young idealist; while the third worships the power of an enigmatic sorceress.
The Fjord is located in the northen part of Valoran, Ancient beings called the Iceborn originate from this area. Travel, especially in the winter, can be very dangerous. The elements often claim even those who have spent their entire lives there.
The Freljordians were once a divided people known as Iceborn (a race once thought to be extinct) with "The War of the Three Sisters" having left the denizens splintered for generations. The region was divided and dominated between three nomad tribes: The Tribe of the Frost Archer, The Tribe of the Ice Dervish and The Tribe of the Winter's Claw, now known as The Avarosan, The Frostguard, and The Winter's Claw respectively. Over the years the tribes would have occasional skirmishes with one another, though the reasons for why they continued fighting had been long forgotten by most. The tribes are ruled by the three Princesses: Ashe, the frost Archer, Ulfhild, the warrior and Sejuani, the Fury of the North.

The path to Hearth-Home

In the echoes of the mountains and the crackling of the embers, a legend once forgotten is remembered with a song older than any tribe.

Dark smoke exhales, from the mountain half

And wind blows through hollow dells

Skies clear as day, shall soon turn gray

And you'll know, you're nearing Ornn

Barring your path is a chasm wide

Howls rise from fathomless pits

But close stands a bridge, frozen by time

And across, you'll soon find Ornn

River of fire, that scorches the earth

Belies his kingdom of stone

And steel sings its tone, as a god stands alone

The shaping hand, we know as Ornn

Sparks leap and fly from the star-fallen ore

Forging his works, divine

Bellows erupt, with unbridled force

No longer lost - the Mountainsmith, Ornn