The Skarr Tribe

The Skarr are governed by a Council of Elders, made up of the oldest and wisest members of the tribe. They interpret omens from the Veil of Ice, guide the tribe’s movements, and oversee important rituals. In times of great danger, the Warrior-Chief, the tribe’s most skilled fighter, takes temporary command, leading hunts and battles.

The Skarr value endurance, adaptability, and a strong connection to their ancestors. They believe that the land holds the spirits of their forebears, frozen in the eternal winter alongside the land’s ancient rulers, the giants. Their culture is steeped in tradition, but they are practical, adapting to whatever the Nevermelting Fields throw at them.   Nomadic Lifestyle: The Skarr are constantly moving, setting up temporary camps and dismantling them as the seasons change or the land shifts beneath their feet. They follow the migration patterns of the Frosthorn Elk and hunt Icefang Wolves, using every part of the animal to survive. Their tents are made of thick hides and reinforced with enchanted bone or antler to withstand blizzards and frostquakes.   Clan Structure: The tribe is divided into clans, each with a specific role. For example, the Hearthfire Clan is responsible for maintaining sacred fires and rituals, while the Huntcallers are the expert trackers and hunters who provide food and protection. Leadership is fluid, with the most skilled or knowledgeable individuals taking charge during different tasks or events, though a council of elders advises the tribe on long-term decisions.   Ancestral Reverence: Ancestor worship is central to the Skarr’s spirituality. They believe their ancestors watch over them through the Veil of Ice, the shimmering auroras that light up the night sky. Some Skarr even claim that the frozen giants of old will one day reawaken when the land thaws.   The Skarr are typically pale-skinned, with icy blue or gray eyes and hair ranging from white to dark brown, often worn in thick braids or adorned with beads and bone charms. Their clothing is made from the hides of creatures like the Frosthorn Elk, treated to be waterproof and wind-resistant. Fur-lined cloaks and boots help protect them from the biting cold, and many adorn themselves with protective charms carved from animal bones or enchanted ice shards.

The Awakening of Giants: The Skarr believe that the ice giants, frozen beneath the fields, are destined to awaken one day, bringing either salvation or destruction to their people. This belief shapes their view of the world as something fragile and on the edge of transformation.

The Skarr are generally insular, preferring to keep to their lands and avoid outside conflicts, but they are fierce when defending their territory. They have clashed with explorers, settlers, and other nomadic tribes over resources or territory, especially near the southern borders close to the Ice-Crowned Summit. However, they sometimes trade with distant settlements, exchanging furs, enchanted ice, and bonecrafts for supplies. The do not venture towards Atrophy Wharf as they believe it to be cursed.

A whispered legend among the Skarr, Erazarth is said to drift silently across the Nevermelting Fields. This being is shrouded in frost, its form indistinct and shifting like a mirage against the snowy expanse. Erazarth’s presence is marked by an otherworldly stillness and an overwhelming sense of forgetfulness.   Legends claim that Erazarth wields a power unlike any other: a spectral strike, known as the Blight of Oblivion, that erases a victim’s name from existence. Once struck, no trace of the person remains in memory, as though they never existed. Even physical records are said to be altered or erased. The Skarr believe this curse is a punishment for hubris or those who desecrate the frozen plains.   Some myths suggest that Erazarth itself is a remnant of the one of the great beasts who once ruled the Silver Plains—a manifestation of their sorrow and rage, transformed into an eternal, nameless guardian of the frozen wasteland. Others believe it is a punishment from the god of nature, a final echo of the goddess stone’s collapse.   Travelers who venture into the Nevermelting Fields often leave markers of their names and stories behind, hoping to escape Erazarth’s erasure and leave some trace of their existence.  

"Speak not your name where the frost does creep, Lest silence fall and your soul does weep. The nameless gaze will seal your plight, With one cold stare, you're lost to the night."