The Southern Cliffs

As one approaches the southern coast of Nyrian, the rugged wall of Brakmur rises above the raging waters. These cliffs are not a gentle transition between ice and sea—they are an unyielding barrier, shaped by millennia of force. The waves continuously crash against the vertical surfaces, the ice creaks and splinters, and large floes repeatedly break off, plunging into the sea, only to be swallowed by the currents.   Brakmur stretches for several kilometers and towers 20 to 30 meters high. Its surface is jagged, sharp-edged, marked by the power of the water. There may be stepped formations at its edges, but at its core, the cliffs are nothing but pure ice and rock—steep, relentless, merciless. Yet Brakmur harbors a deeper darkness. Further south, where the cliffs are especially massive and the sea roars most fiercely against the wall, an immense cavern opens—a chasm of ice that extends deep into the coastal interior. Gjaska, as it is called by the few who have ever seen it.   Gjaska is no ordinary cave entrance—its vast opening resembles the maw of an ancient creature. Ice teeth hang from the ceiling, thin, sharp stalactites that have grown over centuries. Those who peer deep into the cavern see nothing but shadows, while the sea relentlessly pounds against its inner walls, sending a muffled echo reverberating through the tunnel.   The cliffs and abyss are not static. Those standing nearby hear the constant groaning of the ice, the deep fracturing, as if the coast itself were speaking. Silence is rare here—the sea never rests, spraying foam against the cliffs, and sometimes, a massive chunk of ice detaches from the overhanging walls, crashing thunderously into the depths. From above, from the ice plain, one looks down upon a sea that is never still. The waves batter the coastline, breaking against the smooth surfaces of Brakmur, dragging along anything that ventures too close to its edges. The currents pull ice chunks beneath the surface, carrying them adrift, consuming them in the waters.   Gjaska and Brakmur are places of constant change—shaped by nature, ruled by the eternal cycle of ice and water. They are the final breath of the frozen coast before the sea resumes its relentless battle.