Freljord
The Freljord is a land of relentless cold, where survival demands strength and the people are shaped by struggle. From birth, they are warriors, hardened by the frozen wilds.
Opening
Its tribes, proud and fiercely independent, are often seen by outsiders as savage, unaware of the ancient customs that bind them. Ages ago, three sisters--Avarosa, Serylda, and Lissandra--stood united, but their pact was broken in a conflict that nearly doomed all of Runeterra, casting the north into chaos and an unending winter. In its wake, only those untouched by flame or frost rise as leaders.
Though the Frostguard strive to suppress the past, tales of old gods, spirit walkers, and the mysterious yetis still echo among the people. The Winter's Claw push ever outward, raiding the borders of Demacia and Noxus. Amidst the turmoil, a fragile hope emerges--scattered clans begin to rally behind Ashe, the young queen of the Avarosans, seeking unity in her vision. Yet the signs grow darker. The Freljord stirs once more, and war looms on the horizon.
Welcome back, lore-lovers, to Liandrug - where every legend finds its voice! Today, we travel deep into the frozen heart of Runeterra to unravel the ancient rivalries, forgotten cults, and fierce tribes of the Freljord. Whether you're here for Ashe's dream of unity, Sejuani's brutal path to power, or the chilling truths beneath the Howling Abyss... this story has something for every soul who craves the cold winds of myth. Let's begin.
The Chronicle
Before mortals walked the world, beings of raw power--demi-gods--emerged from ancient forces and shaped the land they named Vorrijaard. Though the details of their creation remain shrouded in mystery, the echoes of their deeds live on in legend.
When the first mortal tribes emerged, wild magic surged unchecked. The demi-gods became revered figures, worshipped across the land. Among them, Ornn, the forge-god, drew a group known as the Hearthblood to his mountain. These devoted artisans came from across Valoran to learn by observing his craft. Though Ornn never offered them more than grunts or frowns, they remained steadfast, building tools of unmatched quality and forging the sturdiest halls. They believed his silence masked quiet approval.
Elsewhere, Volibear--the storm and war incarnate--raged across the land with his followers, donning rune-carved armor crafted by Ornn himself. In those days, the brothers still fought side by side, though Ornn never shared his sibling's thirst for battle. Volibear's strength grew with every sacrifice made in his name.
Time pulled them apart. Each turned inward, focused on their own path. The divide between them remained dormant--until mortals dared to reshape the old ways.
Born into this turbulent era were three mortal sisters: Lissandra, Serylda, and Avarosa. With the world still touched by ancient magic, they rose to power in the north. Their ambition to control the Freljord drew the attention of the demi-gods. Anivia watched from afar. Some ignored them. But Volibear and the Iron Boar saw only a threat. To destroy them, Volibear turned to his savage followers, the Ursine, and sought Ornn's aid in arming them.
Ornn refused. He despised the Ursine's brutality. Their argument ignited into a catastrophic battle--fire, lightning, and fury erupting across ten horizons. When it ended, Volibear cursed Ornn and cast away the armor his brother had made. From that moment on, he fought bare, with fang and storm alone. Ornn, devastated by the destruction of Hearth-Home and the death of the Hearthblood, withdrew into seclusion, burdened by the loss of what he had quietly cherished.
Fueled by rage, Volibear struck down one of the sisters, blinding her before her army. Yet her plans were already in motion.
Each sister paid dearly for their pursuit of power. Serylda lost her voice to the twilight. Avarosa faced the void beneath the world and was deafened by its silence. Lissandra, blinded by Volibear, turned to the realm of dreams. Through those shifting visions, she alone perceived a greater darkness--an infinite abyss beyond death.
Unseen by her sisters, Lissandra reached out to the entities she had encountered in the dark. The Watchers promised power and immortality, and in return, she pledged Runeterra to their coming. Thus the Iceborn were born--chosen ones, resistant to the frost, spared for the end to come.
Avarosa believed servitude was a fate worse than death. Even Serylda, once steadfast, recoiled from the future they had fought so fiercely to build. Torn between her sisters and the cosmic cold, Lissandra pleaded with the Watchers for more time--but they, vast and unknowable, cared nothing for mortal pleas.
In the mountains, beneath the shadow of her own fortress, Lissandra stood as her sisters marched upon her with their Iceborn legions. At the climax of their clash, the Watchers descended upon Runeterra, revealing their true, terrifying nature. In that frozen instant, Lissandra faced a dreadful choice: allow the world to be consumed or betray all she held dear. She chose the unthinkable--sacrificing her sisters and their allies, she sealed the Watchers beneath glacial magic, an eternal prison of True Ice that no flame could ever melt.
But even this was not enough. The Watchers did not die--they slept. Their corruption began to seep into the ice itself, darkening it, warping it. They slithered into Lissandra's dreams as she once did into theirs. She awoke night after night, gasping and shivering, whispering oaths to the cold abyss they promised.
Lissandra, ever the survivor, gathered those who remained to form the Frostguard, elevating herself and the memory of her fallen sisters. If True Ice was the only barrier against the end of all things, then they would gather it--and they would hunt the Iceborn to swell their ranks.
She and her followers erased the truth from records, rewriting history to conceal her betrayal. Yet whispers remained--songs and myths of Avarosa and Serylda's return to unify the tribes. Fearing their rebirth, Lissandra had all who were hailed as their incarnations quietly slain. She herself slipped into shadow, extending her life with the dark gifts of her former masters.
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From childhood, Braum was a giant among Freljordians, yet his mother taught him never to use his size to harm. Descended from herders, she believed true strength lay in protection, not dominance.
When ice giants ravaged a rival tribe, she rushed to their aid with supplies, despite their history of stealing herds. Braum, confused at first, came to understand: the Freljord's people were all kin. From that day, he vowed to unite them.
He grew into a hero--one of the Iceborn, yes, but unmatched in strength and spirit. He rescued children from ravines, carried travelers through storms, and fought off wildclaws. Laughter and hope followed him wherever he went.
Eventually, Braum left his homeland to help others beyond it. Tales of his deeds spread, becoming legend--some true, others wildly exaggerated, like the time he supposedly felled a forest with bare fists, or carried a farmhouse away from a volcano.
The ancient Avarosan tribe, led by Grena, embarked on a perilous journey to uncover the truth behind the myth of Avarosa's Throne. A young Ashe, Grena's daughter and heir, accompanied them into the treacherous Ice Children lands. When hardship struck and many turned back, Grena and her sworn warriors pressed on.
Ambushed by the Draklorn, Grena and the Bloodsworn sacrificed themselves so Ashe and a few others could escape. With her dying breath, Grena gave Ashe a map pointing to the Throne's possible resting place.
Ashe reached Ghulfrost, where the map ended--not with a hall of gold, but a lonely cairn in the snow. Beneath it lay a bow of True Ice. With it, Ashe defeated Maalcrom, the Frostguard traitor who had led them into the ambush.
Finding her people slaughtered, Ashe crossed paths with Sejuani. After slaying a monstrous grellfeen together, they rekindled their bond, escaping through hostile lands. They sailed across the Ice Sea to the Winter's Claw, where Sejuani welcomed Ashe as a battlesister. Yet not all accepted her.
Sejuani sought to prove her strength by attacking the weak Ebrataal tribe. Disgusted by the plan, Ashe stood in defense of the innocent and led them away, claiming them as her own and resurrecting the name Avarosan in memory of her mother's tribe.
Left behind by Ashe, Sejuani turned her fury into purpose. She vowed to raid a Noxian warship, hoping it would earn her the strength and respect needed to overthrow her mother, Kalkia.
In the raid, she discovered a young drvask and named him Bristel. He grew into a towering beast, loyal only to her.
With the Frost Priests watching, Sejuani declared her intent to challenge her mother. Though such a duel was taboo, she pressed on. Before the confrontation could finish, Kalkia fell, and Sejuani took power.
Now Warmother of the Winter's Claw, she united nearby tribes through blood and fear, gathering outcasts, shamans, and worshippers of ancient gods. Under her, the Winter's Claw became a relentless force, striking Noxians, southern tribes, and even Demacian borders.
After his clan was ravaged by Aatrox, Tryndamere brought the survivors to the Avarosan capital. He fought in every duel, seeking protection for his people, but his violent rage and unnatural healing unnerved many. Whispers of dark magic followed him.
In one bout, he nearly killed an opponent who had already yielded--until Braum stepped between them, shielding the fallen. Tryndamere's fury broke against Braum's calm strength. From that clash bloomed friendship.
Some say it was Braum who introduced him to Ashe. She needed a consort strong enough to survive her challengers. She offered her clan's protection if he became her sworn champion. Tryndamere agreed, hesitant at first. But in Ashe's presence, he saw Avarosa reborn.
Their political union slowly became something more. Tryndamere's rage found balance in her calm, but his thirst for vengeance remained. Even as war looms, he wonders if his true path lies with Ashe--or elsewhere, in blood and fury.
Now, whispers speak of demi-gods returning, their cults stirring to life. The Freljord is fractured--its tribes scattered, its leaders at odds. In the darkness beneath the ice, ancient horrors wait, watching for the moment to rise again.
Now, we speak of the tribes--fractured, ancient, and ever at war beneath the frozen sky of the Freljord.
The Avarosan Guided by the steady hand of Ashe, the Avarosan are more than a tribe--they are a vision of unity. Ashe, believed to be the true heir of Avarosa, seeks peace through alliance, not conquest. While others draw blades, she builds bridges, forging bonds between scattered clans under one banner. Her people dwell in the more temperate valleys where the land allows farming and settlement. They are progressives in a harsh land, favoring diplomacy and the teachings of Avarosa. Yet, their ideals are not defended by words alone--Ashe commands a formidable army, loyal and ever ready. By her side stand champions of legend: the steadfast Braum, the eternal Anivia, the jovial Gragas, and her consort, the fierce Tryndamere.
The Winter's Claw To the north, beneath blizzards and fury, Sejuani rides at the head of the Winter's Claw. Her doctrine is one of power: only the strong deserve to survive. She seeks to forge the Freljord through fire, steel, and snow. Her people are hardened raiders, drawing sustenance from the wilds during the fleeting warmth of summer. But when winter descends, they ride across the ice-covered seas, plundering the weaker to ensure their own endurance. Those who resist are broken; those who endure may kneel. Sejuani gathers strength through conquest, and her allies are no less fearsome--Olaf, wild and unstoppable; Udyr, the spirit-walker; and Volibear, the thundering god-beast. Together, they aim to remake the Freljord by culling its frailest roots.
The Frostguard Far to the north, beneath the Howling Abyss, lies the ancient and secretive Frostguard. Their cities are ruins carved into ice and stone, buried beneath an eternal winter. Lissandra rules here, the ageless sorceress who watches the deep rift where something terrible slumbers. Outwardly healers, missionaries, and preservers of history, the Frostguard's true purpose is shrouded in lies. They guard the secret of the Watchers--monstrous beings once banished into the Abyss after a cataclysmic war. While the world sleeps, Lissandra works in shadow, keeping them sealed... for now. Yet, her ambitions stretch far beyond guardianship. Trundle, the troll king, has pledged himself and his people to her cause, while Nunu once walked among them, unknowingly drawn into their ancient schemes.
The Ursine - The Lost Ones In the frostbitten edges of the world, where the land knows no warmth, dwell the Ursine--also called the Lost Ones. They are shapeshifters and Spirit Walkers, twisted devotees of the ancient bear god, Volibear. Some still wear their human skins, but most have embraced monstrous forms, merging man and beast in unnatural ways. The Ursine are ancient, older than many mortal tribes, and feared by all. No one has truly defeated them, though Sejuani and Udyr have once forged a fragile alliance with the Ursine to battle common foes. Their rage is primal, their devotion absolute. Only beings like Ornn, the Great Ram, possess the might to rival Volibear's fury.
Broken ToothOnce masters of the stars, the Broken Tooth tribe could read the constellations like maps across the heavens. It was their star-chart that led Ashe to her fabled bow of True Ice--though stolen, not gifted. They are known enemies of the Avarosan, and their fate remains uncertain, lost in the snow and silence of time.
BryniHidden in the secluded village of Aamu dwell the Bryni, a tribe of rabbit-like Vastaya. Among them is Aurora, gifted with an extraordinary connection to the spirit world and its unseen magic. Though distant and quiet, the Bryni live close to the heart of the Freljord's spiritual essence.
Ice Children From the northern mountains descend the Ice Children, fierce rivals of the Avarosan. They revere the ancient faith of the Three Sisters and welcome the frost priests into their halls. Rich in beasts and Elnks, their herds stretch across the snows. Their beliefs and power remain tightly bound to the old ways, and they will not bow to Ashe's diplomacy.
Mourncrow This elusive tribe crossed blades with the warrior Sigvar in the Valley of Spines. Their final fate is a mystery, though whispers claim they were slain by Sigvar and the Frostguard during that clash.
Notai Nomads of lore and music, the Notai wander the Freljord with tales older than mountains. Storytellers and musicians, they are the keepers of ancient legends and revered by many. Devotees of Anivia, their presence is both spiritual and rare. Nunu and his mother Layka hail from this tribe. Their current whereabouts, however, remain unknown.
Tusk Crow Brash and bloodthirsty, the Tusk Crow dared to strike a Frostguard caravan under Sigvar's watch. Their gamble cost them dearly--most of their warriors were slaughtered in retaliation.
Vargkin Enemies of the Winter's Claw, the Vargkin's story is mostly veiled. Their fate, like many in this harsh land, is unknown--buried under years of war and snow
Relations
Bilgewater
Far from the icy wastes, echoes of the Freljord reach the bustling harbor of Bilgewater. Along its weathered cliffs, ancient longships--once Freljordian vessels--hang like relics, their hulls embedded in stone as if seeking refuge. Among Bilgewater's hardy folk, some claim bloodlines that trace back to the frozen north. Trade thrives across the sea, with Freljordian fishermen frequently arriving to barter their catches and wares, weaving quiet bonds between these distant lands.
Demacia
The history between Demacia and the tribes of the Freljord is marked by tension, though not as bitter as the bloodshed shared with Noxus. Long ago, parts of what is now northern Demacia were lands of the Freljord, and echoes of that ancient past linger in the cold wind that sweeps across the frontier. Demacian vigilance has been sharpened over generations, spurred by barbarian raids from the north. One such incursion led Rodian of the Dauntless Vanguard to strike deep into the frostbitten wilds, burning the city of Frostheld--once the proud capital of the Avarosan. Today, Demacia's northern border remains unsettled, for the Winter's Claw grows bold. Sejuani's warriors, now allied with the rebellious Sylas, threaten to bring fire and fury into the kingdom's fertile lands.
Ionia
Ties between Ionia and the Freljord are rooted in ancient footsteps. Ivern the Cruel, long before his fall into myth, once landed on Ionia's western shores, seeking power to rival the Three Sisters. Centuries later, during Noxus's brutal invasion, the spirit-walker Udyr brought his primal strength to defend Hirana and Shojin, standing beside Ionia's defenders. Trade flows quietly between the lands, and for those like Taliyah, passage from the Ionian archipelago to the Freljord is both possible and familiar, threading together distant cultures through shared journeys.
Noxus
Under the iron will of Emperor Darkwill, Noxus turned its gaze northward. Darius led the empire's march into the Freljord, only to find a land awakening to unity. Sejuani, newly named Warmother of the Winter's Claw, gathered scattered tribes and powerful mystics, forging a host that could challenge Noxian legions. The campaign dragged on in the snow-swept wilds--ambushes, assassinations, and bitter stalemates wore on the Noxians. Darius, bloodied but unbroken, returned to Noxus demanding military reform. Now, under a new regime, he returns once more to claim the Winterspike road--the path carved during the first war. Whether this second campaign will end in conquest or collapse remains unknown. Many tribes have stood against Noxus: Tryndamere's forsaken kin, and the fierce Red Snows among them--now both counted among the ranks of the Avarosan.
Closing Words
That's the end of our tale for today, but the legends never sleep. If you enjoyed the video, like, share, and subscribe to help more lore-lovers find our growing community. And if you want to dive even deeper into Runeterra and beyond, join our Discord--where cozy fires and deeper lore discussions await. Until next time, stay curious, stay brave... and stay warm in the Freljord.
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