Gjaska’s Maw: The Slurping in the Deep

At the southernmost point of the Brakmur, the Ice Cliff, a massive hole gapes at sea level. It is believed that centuries ago, a colossal chunk of ice broke away here, allowing seawater to begin eroding the opening from below. Over countless storms, through tides, warmer and colder periods, a deep maw has been carved into the ice.   The water kept pushing in, sloshing back and forth, gradually dissolving material and hollowing out the ice. Today, the opening measures about 25 meters in diameter, with roughly eight meters lying below the waterline. At the upper edge, massive icicles have formed, interspersed with smaller ones—giving the rim the appearance of bearing teeth. The impression of a giant mouth is so striking that no one questions why the place is called Gjaska’s Maw.   Beneath the surface, the terrain drops off: a smooth ledge over which the water flows and mostly disappears into the depths. At low tide, this ledge is briefly visible. Beyond it lies a roughly 30-meter-wide, gently sloping basin, but the water has carved even deeper into the ice.   The sea off the Brakmur is especially treacherous: surface and deep currents run in opposite directions, making navigation along the cliff extremely dangerous. Add to that strong whirlpools and descending winds. The pull in front of Gjaska’s Maw drags everything downward—even boats have been sucked in and shattered against the ice walls. Rune warriors regularly conduct searches when fishing vessels go missing—often discovering, in the dim surface light, the wreckage of a bone ship. There are never any survivors.   No one knows how deep the maw truly goes. Expeditions that attempted to explore it have never returned. It is said the maw reaches through the ice—and that there may even be another entrance.   Deep inland, near Virkin, rises the Yodunskuld—a vertical ice wall into which a cavern was once carved. During its expansion, the Frostborn encountered a fissure that led straight down. They tried to follow it, but the council and the rune warriors halted the work—too dangerous, too pointless.   Today, when entering the expanded part of the cavern, one hears an eerie rumbling: the distant roar of the sea, the cracking of ice, the slurping of water—at least, that’s how it sounds in the fevered imaginations of some Frostborn. Many believe that the discovered fissure or a hidden tunnel leads deep beneath the ice to Gjaska’s Maw. This theory is fueled by the sounds that seem to rise from great depths—an echo from the mouth of the coast, collected in the ice wall.   Since then, the cavern has borne the infamous name: Gjaska’s Ass.   Temperatures inside are noticeably lower than outside, and humidity is extremely high. The site is now used as an emergency storage facility, as food and perishable goods last particularly long here. A small military outpost has also been established—cheekily referred to by the same name, to the amusement of Frostborn culture.   Further exploration has since been strictly forbidden by the council. Gjaska has already claimed too many lives.