The sun is just beginning to rise upon the start of human kind- among others- in this world of harsh reality. A small village, nestled within a mountainous valley is stirring. A large platform and a fire pit in the middle of the jumbled together structures. The houses and homes looking raw and built with the mind of winter snows. Small herds of tamed animals hover about still wandering off into the forest to live rather than staying put. Smaller fields look sorry with the little yield they give. But, there is a certain security and prosperity about the village. Leather and furs tan, hunting weapons, and a fisher's tools can be seen in stages of making.
Elsewhere, waking in the dawn, a raven takes wing. The southern seas and oceans are warm and bountiful giving way to small tribes that had dared to claim land and form cities. To self-proclaimed councils and kings clashing against one another. Farms give excess, craftsmen are becoming more prevalent, iron is being forged. Life is easy among plains and forests yielding bounties of their own. and the rivers streaming from far away mountains. But ever as the raven flies the ocean turns to the north. It's waters becoming frigid and cold. There are few such bounties in this land. The North is a place of different hardships. Farming is only beginning to be viable as basins in the mountainsides are carved out. Most tribes still relying on hunting, gathering, and perhaps the ever-so cautious raid upon their southern neighbors. The mountains that keep some secluded against their eastern sea and the great forests within its fingers, grasping the small tribes to its shadow. Turning west, the mountains reach higher. Up there- this bird cannot go. For behind the great spires. A new plain lies- a glacier. The impassable plains of ice.
There is more danger than the North men know. To the east are another group of people. The desert folk are said to be ancient southern folk who were banished into the great plains, high cliffs, and deserts of the east. They come raiding, taking what they wish. The great glacier that carves the mountains protects the North from these folk. None would cross a blinding light, missing food, water, and fire.
This is the world of Dissansel. New in its time, it's not a world of simple labors. For among all it's people walk those with special abilities. Bards, as they are known in the south. Skalds or shamans in the north. They are regarded either as a blessing or a threat. But always with suspicion. They may control the very elements of nature but at a price.
Landing the raven, watches the village. Curious to see if life will unfurl her wings and fly with him. Or if it shall fall into the jaws of destruction once more.
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Starting in the village called Norn and the surrounding valley, then I'll start tossing a spiel of problems at you. You can choose to travel or remain in place or whatever! Let's see if anyone is interested.
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