[center][i][b]Edric Rane, Cartelom[/b][/i][/center]

The partial absence of the sun made the already grim atmosphere even worse. Headaches were plaguing Edric, who was still not used to the bone-pinching cold or to the damp and dark reality of his new home. The sun was rising, except it wasn't, a new day was coming except it was going to be more of the same. The bland marshes beyond the city welcomed no one, as if they were tired of all life. Was this place always like that?

Hope was a powerful force. Edric knew that better than most. Being forced to seek unknown lands and endeavors, having to travel to mysterious lands that didn't necessarily accept him for what he was, hope was essential in keeping him from losing his identity. But not everyone understood it's importance. The people of Cartelom were struggling, but they did not believe in a better future, they didn't envision it. That much was clear to Edric. Struggling would keep them alive, for now, but it would not be enough if they were to rebuild again in the future. The undead were strugglers and much better that, having laid waste to most of civilization in that part of the world within a short period of time. From his point of view, something more was needed if they were to overcome this profound crisis.

Gearing up was second nature for Sir Edric. His armor was welcoming, his sword was sharp and his house insignia was as radiant as always and a reminder of who he was. The least he could do was keep not just his gear, but his own self in good condition, for Cartelom was not meant to be his final destination. 

Stepping out of the barracks should have made him feel better. Not used to cold environments, his head was pounding. He knew it would come to pass eventually but for now he'd have to endure. Cartelom's militia assembled once again, to guard the city and push forward, away from it's walls. The country of Rhogein was vast and it's many mines and villages reportedly abandoned for the most part. The few people who dared explore it were like uninvited visitors, transient and insignificant. As if the place was not meant for their kind any longer.