The lights never go off and the liquor is always flowing in Cienne. Decadence and glitter surround everything in the northern metropolis, the party going even as ice freezes the streets between glass and stone clad towers. Those lucky enough to be born into the vast nobility of Ma’trine will live a life of gossip, scandal, luxury. Gems on their long graceful fingers, clutching champagne flutes, as they twitter about what society rags say. Beyond the lights, unfortunate souls are left to rot. Those on the outs with society, the castoffs of the dance floor; the poor unfortunates who weren’t beautiful enough, rich enough or talented enough to find a way out of the pit. Their homes little more than the slums spreading onwards into the dark, eternal night. Welcome to the North.