Raised in the frozen wilds of the Freljord, Ashe is an Iceborn, a warrior gifted with a magical connection to the Freljord. The daughter of Grena, her tribe's fanatical Warmother, Ashe followed her quest to discover the mythical Throne of Avarosa—an immense hoard of treasure that all but Grena had dismissed as a child's fairy tale.

The quest took a dark turn, when Ashe, Grena, and her Bloodsworn were ambushed by enemy forces deep in hostile territory, led by Maalcrom, her tribe's traitorous Frostguard. Grena and her Bloodsworn were killed in the battle, and Ashe then faced and killed Maalcrom with the power of a True Ice bow she unearthed from the Throne of Avarosa.

Returning to find her village destroyed, Ashe traveled on alone and reunited with her childhood friend Sejuani. Sejuani welcomed her old friend into her tribe, bringing with them plentiful bounty. Offered a reprieve for the tribe to celebreate the feast, the Frostguard may have other plans for Ashe...

In Yadulsk, a coastal settlement located in the footholds of the Ridgeback Mountains in northern Freljord, lay the Winter's Claw tribe led by Warmother Kalkia. In the village lay a grand structure, though it took the form a hut, it was much grander and was made out of cleanly shaped wood instead of rough logs and fur.

The place was Kalkia, the Warmother's place of rest. In it, Sejuani, the Warmother's Iceborn daughter, resonated. "She's my friend. I know Ashe. When grandma and Grena were working together-"

"I warned you!" Krack. Kalkia's slapping fist connected to her daughter's face, sending her right into the ground. "How many times must I repeat myself? Do not speak of Grena and your precious grandmother to me. It was your grandmother's failures that forced me to come back to the tribe, that forced me to take it from her, and... forced me into the marriage that spawned your worthless hide."

Standing back up, Sejuani caress her cheek to feel and soothe the pain of her mother's hit. "She cared about me."

"Gods, you're worthless," Kalkia, unabashedly exasperated at her daughter's words, immediately take her drinking horn and overflow it with mead. The motion almost a reflex by that point. "Let me enlighten you…"

Kalkia sit back on her throne overstuffed with fur, the bone structure posed right besides the fire. Even though she was an Iceborn who naturally resisted the cold, and a Warmother who ought to show strength and drive at all times; these considerations were long past Kalkia's care, especially in front of her pestilent daughter. Staying up in front of her mother, Sejuani keep a razing gaze onto her.

"For a single day leading the tribe again, my mother would have thrown you to the wolves herself," Kalkia sit fully in her throne, her legs open. Openly wallowing into the few comfort life in the Freljord as to offer. "You were just a tool for her to keep the throne. You know that's the truth," Pausing in her speech, she takes a tasting sip from her horn, the hot mead relaxing her. "I, at least, will protect you."

"I don't want your protection," Sejuani retorts, her stance determinated. "It is the strong who must try the impossible."

"Hahahahahaha!" Kalkia laughs at the top of her lungs, the sound probably heard even outside amidst the feast. "Do you think I want any of this?! You carry my blood and name," Sejuani's head low at her mother's mockery. "This is your last warning, daughter. You will not shame us again."

"You're nothing to this Avarosan. Just as you're nothing but a game to Urkath and his brothers," Desiring to make a point, Kalkia take a huge swig from her horn and stand up to face her daughter, her voice angry and cold. "Because you are nothing."

Sejuani desperately try to keep a strong facade, yet it's clear that her mother's words cut deep. Turning around with her head low, Sejuani leave her mother's dwelling. Both knew where she was going—her grandmother, Hejian's altar tomb.

Filled with further scorn thinking of her mother, Kalkia added. "Run, weakling. Run and cry!"