"The endless expanse of white stretches before me as I pen these words, the howling wind threatening to tear the pages from my grasp. Our expedition shelter groans under the weight of yet another blizzard, the third this week. Two members of our party were lost yesterday—swallowed by what appeared to be solid ground, only to reveal itself as the translucent hunting membrane of some nameless horror, hungry for flesh. Their screams still echo in my dreams.
Where once the northern reaches of the old world flourished with resource-rich nations and ancient cities, now lies a realm of almost perpetual winter and unimaginable horrors. The territories formerly known as Scandinavia, Russia, and Siberia have become a frozen wasteland where only the most desperate or foolhardy dare to venture. Here, the nuclear fires of the Great Collapse and the nuclear fallout fused with the Reaper agent to birth abominations that defy description - deadly creatures and giant predators stalk the tundra, leaving humans near the bottom of the food chain. Nightmarish abominations, half human, half machine, that defy any explanation, have been seen hunting across the endless plains, but it is difficult to find reliable observers that have actually seen these human machine hybrids with their own eyes.
I've guided seventeen expeditions into the Land of Glass. Each time, I swear it will be my last. Yet I find myself drawn back, haunted by the beauty and horror of that twisted landscape. There's a strange seduction to the place - the way the aurora reflects off the glass plains, creating kaleidoscope patterns that seem to whisper secrets if you stare too long. Sometimes I wonder if the spirits of the dead are calling us all, reaching out through the broken remains of the world to pull us toward some incomprehensible future.
If you're reading this and planning your own expedition into the FROST, remember - the glass doesn't just reflect what's there. Sometimes it shows you what you might become."
Compiled by KTR-597, Katarina Orlov, Senior Cartographers Guild pathfinder and former mercenary, Day 19 of The Dead Moon, 124 AP
Unlike the mud lands of central europe, where the earth itself seems to constantly shift and devour, the land of frost presents a deceptive stillness. The snow-covered plains and glittering ice fields create an illusion of pristine beauty that masks the nightmares lurking beneath. In the summer season - if one can call a few months of slightly less brutal temperatures "summer" - the permafrost retreats just enough to reveal the blackened bones of civilization: twisted rebar skeletons of cities, half-buried military installations, and the occasional pristine bunker, its contents untouched since the world burned.
It is in these brief thaws that most expeditions make their attempts, racing against the returning cold to extract whatever treasures remain. Radioactive hotspots dot the landscape like invisible landmines, their presence revealed only by the bizarre growth patterns of mutated flora or the occasional pools of unnaturally coloured snow that glow faintly in the endless night of winter.
In the heart of this frozen hell lies its most terrible secret - the Land of Glass. This vast region, encompassing what was once the European part of Russia, bears the most visible scars of humanity's final war. Here, at the epicenter of multiple nuclear detonations, the very earth was transformed. The sand and soil fused into smooth, undulating plains of obsidian glass, creating a warped mirror that reflects the broken sky above.
The glass is not uniform—it rises in jagged spires where cities once stood, their final moments captured in twisted, frozen waves of vitrified concrete and steel. In other areas, it forms basin-like depressions, some miles across, where entire military bases were vaporized in a heartbeat. The glass itself is mottled with veins of strange metals and composites that sometimes pulse with an inner light when radiation storms sweep across the land.
Most disturbing are the shadows—permanent silhouettes of those who perished in the initial blasts, their final postures of terror or confusion eternally burned into the glassy surface. Explorer teams report that in certain angles of light, these shadows seem to move, reaching out as if pleading for help or perhaps warning others away.
But the true terror of the Land of Glass is not its appearance but its inhabitants. The region serves as a nexus for irregular Nanoweave activity, possibly caused by the nuclear bombardment during the wars of the Great Collapse. In this region, the microscopic nanobots of the Nanoweave have evolved far beyond their original programming.
When they encounter human tissue, they don't simply destroy - they transform. The unfortunate souls who fall victim to nanobot infection undergo a metamorphosis so profound it defies classification as either death or evolution. Their flesh becomes a battleground where technology and biology wage war for dominance, neither fully winning.
These so-called Machine-Hybrids, although Nano-Hybrids would be a more fitting term if the cause of their transformation was better understood - represent a horrific fusion of human anatomy and technological growth, purple light pulsing through translucent skin that has hardened into something resembling both armor plating and circuit boards. Their limbs elongate into impossible proportions, sometimes splitting into additional appendages tipped with claws or tendrils that can rip through reinforced steel.
Most terrifying are their eyes—human irises swallowed by pools of luminescent violet energy that pierces the darkness like searchlights. They move with a predatory grace that seems to defy the laws of physics, capable of crossing vast distances in blinding bursts of speed or remaining completely motionless for days, waiting for prey.
The people of the Desolation are of course unaware of the exact nature of the Nanoweave and ascribe these transformations to the Reaper Agent or sophisticated military enhancement programs from the pre-Collapse era. In a way, they are not entirely wrong!
The most advanced Nano-Hybrids demonstrate abilities that border on the supernatural - manipulation of their immediate surroundings, near-instantaneous healing, and in some documented cases, the power to reshape the very glass beneath their feet into weapons or shelter. Communication attempts have universally failed; whatever remains of their human consciousness has been subsumed by the collective intelligence of the nanobots that now pilot their forms.
What makes these entities particularly interesting is their apparent ability to sense the genetic markers that allow for Nanoweave interaction, the same markers found in shamans or Sirens of Nyx. Expedition records indicate that Nano-Hybrids will ignore seemingly viable targets to pursue individuals with these genetic predispositions, suggesting some programmed imperative to either recruit or eliminate potential Nanoweave manipulators.
Standing on the precipice between the relative safety of the mud lands and the frozen horrors of the FROST, Ograd has earned its reputation as the City of Mercenaries. Defensive outposts constructed from the armored hulls of destroyed war machines encircle the city, topped with observation posts where gunners maintain constant vigilance against both mutant incursions and the occasional Nano-Hybrid that wanders too far west. The streets of the brutalist concrete city are crowded with traders hawking survival gear of dubious quality, mercenaries advertising their services with elaborate tattoos denoting their specialties, and expedition planners poring over incomplete maps in dimly lit taverns.
Much of Ograd's economy revolves around the expeditions that venture into the FROST. The local guild of Cartographers maintains meticulous records of routes proven survivable, hiring out the services of Pathfinders at exorbitant prices to would-be explorers. Equipment outfitters specialize in cold-weather gear enhanced with salvaged pre-Collapse technology, while shamans offer their services to treat the unique injuries sustained in the Lands of Glass - usually with questionable success!
The social hierarchy of Ograd is strictly based on survival. Those who have ventured deepest into the FROST and returned to tell the tale command respect and premium rates for their services. The elite among them, like the famed pathfinder Katya the Red, are treated with an almost religious reverence.
Governance is maintained by the Council of Mercenaries, which elects a supreme Warlord for the city every three years. Their authority is absolute within the city walls, their judgments enforced by hardened veteran mercenaries that have been into the frost and lived to tell the tale.
Beneath the surface of this outwardly militaristic and practical society runs a current of mysticism unique to Ograd. Survivors of expeditions speak of visions and dreams that persist long after their return - whispers of ancient knowledge and glimpses of possible futures. Some believe the spirits of those that perished in the nuclear fires that formed the Lands of Glass reach into their minds, but in reality the visions are more likely caused by the irregular patterns of the Nanoweave in this region.
The typical FROST expedition resembles a military operation more than an exploration party. While most explorers enter the lands of Frost on foot, larger expeditions may use vehicles, retrofitted with additional armor and enclosed heating systems. The largest expeditions may include several vehicles and dozens of personnel, though smaller, less “noticable” groups often achieve greater success rates.
Essential personnel include pathfinders, hired to guide the expedition along known routes with less danger, mechanics capable of performing repairs in sub-zero conditions while wearing full thermal suits, and as many gunfighters as possible, to fight off whatever creatures might come for the expedition.
The mercenary contingent usually consists of veterans from the Prime AI's clone armies or former City Watch members from Praga, their combat experience deemed worth the premium fees they command. Each expedition also typically includes at least one "spook", individuals with a “sixth sense” who are - unbeknown to themselves - sensitive to Nanoweave fluctuations, and can provide early warning of Nano-Hybrid presence.
Preparation for these journeys often takes weeks. Vehicles must be prepared to function at temperatures far below freezing. Oxygen recyclers require fresh filters to remove radioactive particles and other contamination. Food supplies are calculated with the assumption that at least 30% of the expedition members will perish during the journey.
The most successful expeditions follow a strict protocol of movement only during daylight hours and establishing fortified night camps within existing ruined structures wherever possible. Constant rotation of watch duties prevents fatigue-induced hallucinations, a common and dangerous phenomenon in the Lands of Glass.
The creatures that call the FROST home have evolved to thrive in conditions that would kill unprotected humans in minutes. Expeditions have catalogued dozens of distinct mutant species, though classification remains difficult as rapid evolution continues across the region.
The Wendigos of the northern forests represent perhaps the most immediate threat to expeditions. These evolved mutants, standing two to three times the height of a human, possess elongated limbs and phenomenal climbing abilities that allow them to pursue prey through even the densest pine forests. Their most unsettling adaptation is their vocal mimicry—the ability to perfectly replicate human voices, often using the last words of previous victims to lure new prey. Wendigo hunting grounds can be identified by the characteristic "bone gardens" they create, arranging the remains of their prey in concentric circles that some anthropologists believe represent primitive religious practices.
Glass Kraken lurk beneath the seemingly solid surface of the Land of Glass, their massive tentacled forms visible only as subtle distortions in the translucent terrain until they strike. These creatures appear to be an unholy fusion of cephalopod DNA and the silica-based structures of the Glass Lands themselves, capable of moving through the mud and water trapped beneath the glass. Their hunting technique involves lurking near thin spots in the glass surface, bursting through the surface when their unsuspecting prey approaches.
Perhaps most enigmatic are the Aurora Walkers—colossal entities that appear only during the radiation storms that periodically sweep the region. Standing hundreds of feet tall, these vaguely humanoid figures seem composed entirely of shifting light and energy, visible only in silhouette against the curtains of aurora that give them their name. They ignore human presence entirely, following patterns and purposes beyond comprehension. Explorer teams report experiencing shared dreams for weeks after witnessing these beings, often featuring mathematical equations and geometric patterns that defy known physics.
The indigenous human population of the FROST consists primarily of the Nordic Clans - mostly clones, but also descendants of military and scientific personnel who were stationed in the region as well as refugees from the cities that were destroyed when the Great Collapse occurred. These tribes maintain a nomadic existence, following migration patterns of mutant Bohazu herds, which they hunt for sustenance.
Expeditions that establish peaceful contact with the Nordic Clans may gain safe passage or even invaluable guides, though earning their trust requires participating in blood rituals that many outsiders will not survive. These ceremonies involve consuming the flesh of a Wendigo, to demonstrate willingness to "become one with the FROST", a practice that has led to rumors of mutation among the Nordic Clans themselves, but also pathfinders and expedition members who have gone native.
Despite the overwhelming dangers, expeditions into the Land of Glass continue with increasing frequency. The riches to be found among the ruins of dead cities and old military installations - of which there are untold numbers - prove too tempting for many. Pristine pre-Collapse technology preserved in almost perfect condition in sealed bunkers, exotic materials created by the unique conditions of nuclear fusion and nanobot activity, and most valuable of all, data cores containing blueprints and technical data from the final days before communication networks failed.
Rumors persist of a place deep within the Glass Lands known as the Bolshoy Zal - a complete military research facility, perfectly preserved when its entrance was sealed by liquid glass during a nuclear explosion. Expedition teams have spent fortunes and untold lives attempting to locate this apocryphal treasure trove, following fragmentary maps and the delirious accounts of sole survivors from failed ventures.
Another draw is the phenomenon known as "glass whispering"—the recovery of audio from the moment of vitrification, supposedly preserved in the microscopic vibration patterns of the glass itself. Specialized equipment has been developed in Ograd to "read" these patterns, essentially allowing listeners to hear the final seconds of the old world. While most recovered audio consists of warning sirens and screams, occasionally fragments of military communications have been retrieved, providing tantalizing clues about the whereabouts of large storage caches
For the few Cartographers that have some understanding of the Nanoweave, the Land of Glass represents the only known location for studying Nanoweave behavior. Expeditions of expendable, hired mercenaries are sent into the region to deploy sensor arrays throughout the region, gathering data on the patterns of the Nanoweave. The casualty rate among these expeditions approaches 90%, which suits the Cartographers, as they wish to keep these missions a secret.