Far to the north of civilized peoples, beyond Sussenia, where the snows and ice cover everything year round — even at the foot of the Hammerdal Mountains — you find the Soundless Brink. The Lost were swallowed here thanks to Lothar Greatworth, other men have been devoured over the years, and Trailblazers say it earns its name honestly: the very sound of life is eaten by the frigid void at the north end of Kai’ckul. A foreboding name for a foreboding land.
Early, when the nomadic Men that would give rise to Sussenia fought the nomadic Lost, conflict pushed the bands to the limits of survival. Families fought and died thanks to the elements as they attempted to bring the cold, harsh land to heel. Shoddy stone houses peek out of the snowdrifts every so often as testament to the ones who tried. Occasionally, the shelters are used by Wardens who patrol the north, but those patrols have long since been abandoned in all but name.
The Wardens pledge to protect the Kingdoms of Kai’ckul, and not just the vacated holdfasts of the Indahar Mountain Range, but also the vast expanse of freezing north. Those defenders now skirt along the inner border of Sussenia, occasionally coming into conflict with the families at the northern fringe as they take from personal stock, or otherwise become a burden. Other Wardens have made simple posts at the foot of the Raniar Mountain Range to the west, just out of the Western Holds desired influence, and just out of the grasp of the clawing cold. But most Wardens on a patrol tour of the north spend most of their time in Athfort.
Truly, Athfort, the Adran Clan and its few neighbors reside in the Indahar Mountain Range. In fact, the central spine of mountains is entirely Indahar, though the Dwarves and history have rewritten this northern portion — the inhabited portion — and that which disappears into the white, as the Hammerdal Mountains. It is named so for their shape, as they spear the sky like splintered metal, or the fractures weak stone makes. The story the Dwarves tell is that their hammering, through the length of history, has created these mountains, that Dwarvenkin have etched their mark upon Kai’ckul. A far cry from their creation at the hands of the Fathers, the Wyrms.
Trailblazers and Wardens have attempted at times to scout into the void as far as they dare, in an attempt to find somewhere tenable, or simply give definition to the maps. Every account ends the same. Either they never return, or they found an endless length of frozen rock and ice, jaggedly open like a maw waiting to receive a meal.