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the Three Gods of Ice

In the North, it is said, there are a hundred different words for snow. Similarly, there are numerous Gods of Ice -- though three, in particular, rise above the others. Below these, in a sort of makeshift Court of Ice, lay lesser servitors and spirits. The God of one eternally iced over lake, the God of a Glacier, each small and insignificant divinity hanging from the eaves of a house in the winter.

Broken Ice Spear
The weakest of the three Gods of Ice, Broken Ice Spear is the God of Ice that forms on land. Most of his power and responcibility comes from small rivers and streams that ice over much of the year, or small lakes that are nestled amidst the Mountains of the North. Yet he also looks after the ice that forms on some plants, icicles hanging from the eaves of ones house, and other bits of small power. He technically holds reign over glaciers as well, and in times past such was the source of much of his esteem, but in these fallen times those powerful divinities pay him little heed for their might is near or surpassing his own.

Once, the Ice Lord was more respected and renowned. The power and respect afforded his wife, the Goddess of the White Sea and all of the Ice upon the Water (including some of the larger lakes, especially those connected to the Sea), extended to him to some large degree and together the two were the unassailable and vast Gods of Northern Ice. The last century of the Court of the King of Winter changed that however. Free of all propriety and worry of his superiors, the King of Winter, White Mountain, became a horror to those under his sway. One of these was the fair Frilla, wife of Broken Ice Spear and Lady of the White Sea. One of the most beautiful of the Northern Goddesses, second only to the untouchable and unfeeling perfection of Chill Morn, Frilla found herself the subject of those lusts that her lord inflicted upon her. She fumed and raged against these abuses, but of all the things that angered her -- it was the silence and meekness of her husband that burned coldest in her heart. So afraid was the Broken Ice Spear that he said nothing, not even in a polite and level tone, to attempt to spare his wife from the tender mercies of White Mountain.

This was the end of their marriage, though Broken Ice Spear did not know this until much later. When the King of the Mountain was deposed, however, the Goddess of the White Sea began to spend more and more time in her own private sanctum in the heart of the Sea. Eventually she stopped returning all together, and when the Broken Ice Spear finally went to check on his wifes well-being he came back with a wicked scratch upon his pale cheek and a heart that had been broken. Broken by rejection, and broken by shame.

The Ice Lord remains one of the Gods of the Lanji, sitting under the rightful hand of his lord, Raventalon, and performing what of his duties he can conjure up the care to see to. Yet, ever since the loss of his fair mate, he has grown melancholy and depressed and seldom works up much energy to go about the tasks appointed to him. Thus in the lands of the Lanji it is not unknown for lakes to remain iced over longer than their due, or for icicles to linger longer than their amounted time. Only the proper obesiance and respect to the lord and his servitors keeps the normal cycle of Winter in check.

Most of the time, Broken Ice Spear remains within his sanctum -- a meager palace, located deep in one of the larger lakes of the mountains fed by glacial springs. There, alone and silent, he lingers in a gloomy depression -- or a uproar of cold white fury, when his mind lingers toward Thousand Ice Tears and the "affair" that has reached his ears in rumor. One is only slightly more likely to find a downcast and sober Lord of Northern Ice as one is to find a raging angry one -- yet still, seekers come to the palace seeking him out. Most of these seekers are young women of the Lanji, renowned for their beauty and confident in their ability to stir the heart of the lonely god. The rewards for doing such would no doubt be great, for even in these dark times he is a potent and wealthy God. Yet so far, all anyone has earned is a few months of pleasure and opulance followed by a cold and unmourned death. So far, none have matched the memory of his Frilla.

Frilla (spanish pronunciation; Fr-E-Y-a)
The Goddess of the White Sea appears as a beautiful maiden, maybe 15 years of age, with long pale gold tresses and cold pale skin. Indeed, she is renowned throughout the North as one of the most beautiful of the gods and men have trekked through the ice-covered seas for weeks seeking a glimpse. Yet, always she hides herself away, for her beauty is not made for mortal eyes -- the merest glimpse of her drives men to obsession, and those who accidentally catch a good look at her spend the rest of their lives wandering the wastes of the North, unsure of what they seek but knowing that they must see it once again.

Frilla has been largely uncaring of humans for most of her existence, hiding her face from them and marveling at their fragility from afar. Instead, she kept to the company of her Husband and colleague -- Broken Ice Spear, the Lord of Northern Ice that forms on land. Once, in the dim pages of history, their love was as pure as the fresh driven snow -- yet as so many things in this Creation, that purity has been spoiled. Crimes and offenses left unanswered gnawed at her heart, and by the end of the Age, the Lady of Northern Ice found that...she hated her husband. She hated him with a cold intensity that she had never felt before, a fell gnawing at her bones that she feared might consume her. Afraid of these feelings, she tried to deny them, but found herself unable. The merest look on his face would nearly drive her to violence, and thus she left his side for the home of her youth. For the first time in ages, she slept in her sanctum far beneath the White Sea...alone.

There she found solitude, peace, and an understanding. She took the ring that had bound them together from her finger, and cast it into the sea to be carried away by the currents and lost for all time. The Lady of Northern Ice was she no longer; merely the Goddess of the White Sea. When her fomer husband came, at last, to check on her -- she cast him away, with harsh words and her sharp nails in his face. Then, she settled herself in her palace and wept for what had been lost. Yet, some time after that fateful meeting (perhaps years, maybe a century) she was awakened from her sleep by a curious thing. The scraping of steel on ice, as one of the first Haslanti Iceships caught a wind over the Northern Sea and sailed over the frozen vault of her palace. Rising from the ice, she followed the ship, skating along after it and remaining out of sight, as it approached the city of Icehome with a hold full of goods from a far off settlement on the rim of the ice-sea.

The Goddess had heard of ships from her fellow Ocean spirits, but paid them little heed for she had never experienced anything like them. The Exalted had once sailed over her Oceans, but they were far enough up in the air that she scarcely noticed them, and they were Exalted besides -- yet mere humans, inventing ships to sail on Ice, this intrigued her and she became determined to learn more. Covering herself in thick layers of clothes and weaves of Essence, she disguised herself as a common girl and went to Icehome to join the crew of one of these strange Iceships.

The tales of her journeys and adventurers are myth among the Haslanti, who hold Frilla as the patron of the ice and of their own ice ships, as well as the White Sea. This honor she accepted, taking these people as her own. Yet if the love of the Haslanti and the glories of the Ice Ships were to surprise her -- none could match her astonishment as she met Thousand Ice Tears again after hundreds of years. She had met the young ascended godling many many centuries ago, when the Solar Exalted had first deigned to build a magical river to bridge her sea and the lands of their fertile River Province. Yet, little attention had she paid to him then -- he was a mortal thing, meek and unsure of himself, and she found him quite strange and ungainly. What difference several centuries makes!

The Haslanti hold her as the consort to Thousand Ice Tears, and in it's way this is true. The two are seldom far apart, and together have found a love and a glory that is everlasting. The small thing that she once knew is still there, hidden somewhere within the god that exists in these days, but he is far stronger than her own former husband. This puzzles and intrigues her, for she would have thought the mortal within him would be a thing of weakness -- but instead it is a strength. Always challenging, never accepting, with a pride and a self-respect that she craves. Rumors and whispers of their "impending marriage" have occasionally run through the League for the past 150 years or even longer -- but, at least for now, Frilla keeps some edge of final distance.

Yet, for now, she pushes such rumors away. Not for the reason some might think; she loves Thousand Ice Tears, and would gladly stand beside him until the world is consumed. Yet she understands, on a certain level, that a marriage between them would destroy her former husband. She pities him, and even still hates him, but she cannot bring herself to do such a thing.

Thousand Ice Tears
A young god, and a member of the Haslanti League -- standing as one of their Oligarchs, -- he stands at the cusp of the Ice Gods. For several long months of the year, long expanses of the River of Tears are iced over. In these times, the Thousand Ice Tears is a tall creature with long shining hair of ice and cold white skin. A somewhat fey beauty, he spends most of his time during this time of year in the lands of the North, with the Haslanti people whom he watches over and in the embrace of his lover, Frilla. When the river thaws, he is a more mundane river god, and is more commonly found in the Court of a Thousand Rivers, in the Scavenger Lands.