And to be honest my first attempt at any kind of lore at all.
Hope you enjoy!
The land of Frost Field is not but a barren land. A land where nary a tree grows nor beasts creep. A land bordered by the unknown, the lush, the fatal.
Few have traversed the barren Frost Fields. Fewer have survived to tell such tales of the harsh winds and biting cold. In a land where the ground is constantly covered in a layer of frost and ice, where there are no trees or hills stand to protect you from the winds, many must resort to acts inhumane, and disturbing.
In the Frost Fields, man must be wary of the presence of Death looming over one's head. His breath frigid, his stench stifling, and his shadow, unnerving. Many a foolish man have traversed the Frost Fields to get to the Horfot Academy, not fully understanding the risks accompanied by such a foolish task.
The Frost Fields may be barren, but that's the least that can be said, for the mountains of the dead hidden under the layers of frost and ice, have another story to tell. Stories of violence, betrayal, and of death.
Man came to these lands, and man must brave the Frost Fields in order to brave the oncoming legions of the Hellbourne to find their salvation; the omnipotent and voracious Fenrir.