North, the distant north.
Crossing the Sheltering Mountain Range, passing through the Holy Empire, and moving towards the end of the horizon, until the tumultuous Narrow Sea is reached, one reaches the true north.
The Venetians complain about the cold, damp winters and dig out long-sleeved clothes from the bottom of their chests;
The Paratu People curse the bone-chilling winter winds and hide inside tightly sealed houses.
Little do they know how gentle fate has been to the Senarthians—the towering Sheltering Mountain Range blocks the cold air from the south, and the vast inland sea acts as a natural heat reservoir, ensuring that the land between the two mountains hardly ever freezes over.
But in the true north, the god of winter will show his cruel and merciless side.
