In a world of black and white, rare splashes of colors are all too easy to see.
Like the green of the rare plants...
and the red of splattered blood.
The white of the ever-drifting snow contrasts against the terrible black and grey of the boulders of granite, obsidian and basalt that litter these plains, shifting man-high patches of grass and stark dark-wooded, bare-branched trees swaying to an ever shifting wind that alternately freezes you and strips the flesh from your bones as it shifts directions over you.
You find bears and thick-furred, pale horned, black skinned creatures here, ekeing out a life in this icy tundra, moving as little as possible, hiding within the deep caves that are the only shelter you see from this scouring wind.
Hail falls during the horrible lightning storms that infrequently ravage this place, and windstorms and tornadoes refuse to let it rest....snow falls during the lulls between storms, banking up in man-high drifts, sealing creatures off to hibernate within the caves.
In the distance, you can see mountain ranges, cold and forbidding.
Rare furs and ivories and components of spells.. that is what you can get from this land.
IF you survive.
