In the ancient times, the inhabitants in the Northern region had fought and battled against beasts that dwelt in the sea. The creatures wreaked havoc and caused chaos in the coastlines and further in the main land, depleting resources and robbing lives. While most of them have been slain with the joint efforts of humanity’s best, there remains a fabled beast that strikes fear even to the mightiest sea voyagers of past and present. Its name had been passed down across legends and myths, in ballads and poems. It is as if the word thalassophobia—fear of the ocean, was invented for Jormunsorm. The bane of seafarers, the primal fear to whosoever set sails towards the ocean, Jormunsorm instills fear to those who live to tell its tale.
For centuries, Avariks have struggled to hunt the beast down. Many ships have been expended to pursue it, from galleons to warships equipped with weapons that would take any other sea beasts down. But not Jormunsorm, for its survival has proven that no mortal instruments could handle such monstrosity. Folklorists tell a story of of an ancient civilization that dared to disturb its peace, only to be swallowed by the raging tides and buried beneath the waves. They say that Jormunsorm nestles itself deep within the Glacian seabed, making its home amongst the shipwrecks and ruins of said civilization. While Glacians are persistent in their pursuit of truth, they are content with the lack of proof, for it is best not to meddle with something beyond their capabilities.
But of course, lives lost are lessons gained. Sailors and mariners have learned not to board the ships when storm clouds gather and lightning strikes. Helmsmen and navigators immediately turn their sails when rain starts to pour in the middle of the ocean. They heed it as Jormunsorm’s warning, for the beast has been observed to be able to manipulate weather at will. Witnesses also reported that it could conjure violent whirlpools and humongous tidal waves that scale Avaritia. Any Glacian scholar knows not to draw its ire, or to repeat the mistakes their predecessors made. Eisdorf might be a fortress in these snowy landscapes, but overconfidence could spell their doom against something as colossal as Jormunsorm.
Still, Avariks cannot help but wonder what lies beyond the thunderstorms. The thunderous veil confines us in the Avarus continent as we know it, with no knowledge from beyond. Scholars conclude that whatever resides past Jormunsorm’s domain is far more dangerous than itself, but still there are those who rise up to the challenge. Unwavering, they press on against all odds, for being a scholar is to make the unknown known. For every destroyed ships, rises a stronger one, and the time would eventually come for their persistence to pay off. A monstrosity to overcome, Jormunsorm merely serves as a rite passage— a precaution to Avariks for the coming dangers.