The Mjaln Mountains

In the far northern reaches, beyond Nightweald, beyond the valleys, and beyond Elfwood, lie the looming, imposing Mjaln Mountains. In these high reaches of always winter, blizzards turn all things to ice, and avalanches that crush everything in their paths are a common sight. But despite this, certain things have learned to live up here, so far north, where most things wouldn't last a day. This includes mountain goats, yaks, wolves, bears, and of course: the Mjaln.

These winter-hardened people are often reclusive, finding themselves comfortably away from the world's troubles and politics high up in their mountains, but are still often seen as warlike or even barbaric. It has long been debated if the Mjaln are to be classified as a race for themselves, since all Mjaln are born with a stronger, tougher, and generally more superior physique than humans are. They look like humans, just a head taller and far stronger than them. But their inborn strength is not to be confused with brutishness. Although many may label them as barbarians, the Mjaln exhibit vast knowledge in shamanism, even if it is often a cruder kind than the elegant ways of southern regions.

But even though the Mjaln try to stay out of the politics of any southern folk, war comes to everyone. In this case, the Mjaln have been faced with the invading armies of trolls, hailing from the ever-frozen wastes of Trollheim. The Mjaln stand their ground in Mjalnheim in the eastern mountains, while the trolls inhabit the mountains to the west. The war between trolls and Mjaln has gone on for centuries, and by now, most Mjaln seem to have forgotten how the war started in the first place. But even so, they keep on fighting.

Government
Sitting on the commanding throne of the Mjaln, is the highest-ranking of them all: the jarl. Every three years a tournament is held in Mjalnheim, which they prefer to refer to as an 'election', as it is the closest they will ever get to one. In the Mjaln society, strength in combat is seen as the ultimate trait, and if a Mjaln bests another Mjaln in the ring, that Mjaln will be widely seen as superior in every way to the bested Mjaln. In the tournament, Mjaln with political ambitions from all reaches of the world travel to Mjalnheim to fight in the tournament, in hopes of proving themselves worthy for the title of jarl. And in the ring, all tricks are allowed. If a Mjaln can beat another Mjaln with their wit, then their mind is stronger than the opponent's brawn, and proves their superiority either way.

When a jarl has been 'elected', they will sit on the throne in Mjalnheim for three years, and have absolute power over all things Mjaln. But even with all this power, their main issue is nearly always managing the armies, and commanding the war. The Mjaln armies are notorious for their fabled bear cavalry, which is literal in every sense; it consists of Mjaln who ride bears that are specifically bred to be large and strong enough to carry a rider, despite how ridiculous that sounds. But when faced with a charging army of Mjaln riding on armored bears, the idea seems to become less ridiculous, and more terrifying.

The jarls have been trying new tactics every three years as to how they could go about sending the trolls back home, but the trolls have proved too tenacious time and again. The war between the Mjaln and trolls, commonly referred to as the 'Fimbulwinter War', has been in a stalemate for centuries, and no new jarl has ever been able to solve it. Both sides are too warlike, determined to conquer their foe, that neither have ever considered peace an option. Generally, those who propose such an idea are often laughed at, before being stripped of their clothes and dropped off somewhere in the mountains to find their way home.

History
The Mjaln Mountains have not always been inhabited by Mjaln, despite the name. In the beginning, there were no one - no one but goats and bears. But after that, the trolls came. They invaded the mountains from Trollheim, sailing through The Stepping Stones, and effortlessly taking all of the mountains for themselves. They built underground cities in the mountains many years before the Mjaln came, and made it clear to all southern nations that any who may dare tread on their territory would have their trespassing punished by death. However, as the years went by, some of the troll warchiefs began to grow ambitious, and mustered an army to conquer more lands to the south. This was well before Elfwood came to be, and the area where Elfwood lies now, was once a fourth valley, where King Olaf the Third ruled. For a while now he had been wary about the trolls and their warlike behaviour, and had expected that they would launch an assault to conquer more land, so he was ready when they did. He had prepared an army, rallied forces from the other valleys too, but when the two armies met on the feet of the mountains where they would clash, King Olaf quickly came to realize that he had underestimated the power of the trolls. Once he believed they were barbaric grunts, incapable of elaborate thinking, but when he saw how the trolls began to cast spells that froze his men alive on the battlefield, the fight took a turn for the worse. The united armies of the four valleys had near been crushed while the trolls effortlessly plowed them down, and King Olaf prayed for his men. And it seemed that, on the day of their battle, the gods had heard him. For as all seemed lost, the god of war, Hrumalz, bestowed a blessing upon the armies of man, empowering them to now heights. They grew stronger, much stronger, and grew a head taller than before. All the weak and scared lost their fear and feebleness, and found the courage to take up arms once more and push back the trolls. This was the day that the Mjaln were born, and henceforth became what may turn out to be acknowledged as an entirely new race, after they settled down in the mountains and founded Mjalnheim.

In the years that passed, when King Olaf had passed away, the war continued and the Mjaln established the concept of jarlhood. At that point, Jarl Fenner sat on the throne of Mjalnheim, and was commonly known as the 'Shaman Jarl', because of his shamanistic abilities. Fenner was a just Jarl, a wise one too, and one of the rare subjects who had won the 'election' with his wits. In the first year of his reign he created the most holy of all Mjaln things, known as 'The Great Blaze'; an eternal bonfire in Mjalnheim that was said to keep away the perverted frost magic of the trolls as long as it remained burning. Because of this, the trolls have been trying all in their power to extinguish its fire, but they have never been successful. Whether it is true that The Great Blaze holds away the frost is yet to be known, but there is no doubt that it has ruffled the feathers of the trolls quite well, and encouraged the Mjaln to keep fighting.

However, in the third year of Fenner's reign, he came to realize that his armies were suffering from a crippling, debilitating disease that no Mjaln should carry: fear. He saw how some of his men fled in battle, in sheer terror of death. Death was unknown and mysterious to the Mjaln, and they feared what was on the other side, once they had been cut down. Fenner saw this, and even though it seemed impossible to fix for a mere mortal man like himself, he was also a man of ambition. So, one day, he gathered all the finest shamans in the realm for a ceremonial ritual, meant for summoning no one less than the god of death, Morrin. The ritual was a success, and Fenner stood before the death his men feared so much. But Fenner feared him not. He spoke with him, showed him how his men feared him, and proposed a pact: Fenner was willing to give his own life to Morrin, in exchange for a place where all Mjaln would go, should they fall in battle. A place of endless feasting a boasting, of celebration and joy, a place of respite and rest after so many years of battle. To this, Morrin agreed, and Fenner's life was taken in exchange for the creation of the place that became known as 'Fennerheim'. To this day, the Mjaln warriors and huscarls, whether men or women, have never feared death in battle, and have been widely regarded as the strongest, most fearsome force in the entire Mortal Realm.

Later on, when Fenner had passed away and many more jarls after him had taken his place, it was around the time where the High Elves had revolted against their fae overlords. The Mjaln had settled in and become rather lazy and fat at this time, and the trolls seemed to have taken a similar turn, because the war was slowly quieting down for the time being. It was still there, battles still being fought and people still being killed, but it didn't seem such a pressing matter anymore. However, that quickly took a dire turn when the High Elves began to invade the fourth valley, realm of King Olaf, with their green magic. At first the Mjaln, being as lazy as they were at this point, didn't take it too seriously, but they quickly came to realize that the elves were working their magic much faster than they expected. By the time the Mjaln launched an assault to take back the land which the elves were now turning into a forest, the valley was already almost completely consumed by their magic. What before was very familiar ground, the very home and birthplace of the Mjaln, was now a strange and alien jungle. The current jarl only used a month to rally his forces, but that was more than enough for the high elves to transform the cold valley into a tropical jungle, which the Mjaln couldn't possibly fight in, because of the unfamiliar territory. The high elves easily repelled the Mjaln forces with their archers in their trees and their mages, and the Mjaln were left with no choice but to back off, if they were not to lose more men in this effortless assault. From that day on, the Mjaln had to let go of their homeland, which was left too unguarded to stay the High Elf invasion. And because of this, even to this day, Mjaln and high elves have a striking dislike for one another.

Strangely enough, in the year 784, no more than 74 years after the Mjaln lost their land to the elves, Jarl Gunfer receives a call for help from the elven queen, Ethella. The letter reads that Lumion, where many elves have colonized, is being razed by Shogun Kyonin of Yantsu Island. Elves and Myaani alike were being eradicated by the thousands, and while Ethella may have been able to keep the Mjaln at bay, the forces of Shogun Kyonin vastly outmatch her with his armies of samurai warriors, who mix blade and spell to create a whirlwind of destruction. Jarl Gunfer was a wise man of his time, and sought to heed the lessons of Jarl Fenner, but found that there was a vast majority of his population that would rather see the elves annihilated at the hands of Shogun Kyonin - some even suggested that Jarl Gunfer forge an alliance with the Shogun, rather than Ethella. However, that did not come to pass. Jarl Gunfer, while pondering on what to decide, took a pilgrimage to the highest mountain in all of the north, and spent a month in silent contemplation, so that he might hear the words of spirits, gods, and ancestors. At the end of the month, he returned to his people and told that none other than Jarl Fenner himself had told him, that he must lay aside old grudges and take up arms with Ethella. Shogun Kyonin would only seek to eradicate, while Ethella sought nothing but survival. And thus, Jarl Gunfer forgave Ethella for what she had done only 74 years prior, so that they together could bring down Kyonin's oppressive rule. By the time they had pushed him so far back that Gunfer and Ethella stood by his very door, all they saw when they set foot inside, was Kyonin performing seppuku before their very eyes, to keep him from falling in enemy hands. It was in his blood, that some of the Mjaln-Elf hatred was extinguished.