One spark was enough.
The Fimbulwinter came, and it never left. Villages froze, roads vanished under the snow, and the old songs went quiet.
A handful of survivors followed a young Jarl into the storm, guided by Munin, a raven who remembers the old ways. Beneath the ice, an ancient Great Hearth was waiting.
She lit it again. Around that fire the survivors build longhouses, a lumber camp and a mead hall. This is where Ravheim begins.










