The ice nomads of Carthage are a tough group. Stuck on an island almost touching the West Pole (hoorah tilted axis), they scratch out a living as best they can in the perpetual winter. Yet, they believe they are a blessed group in some ways, for the capital was built on a fertile oasis in the otherwise barren wasteland. The boundary is marked by a sacred river, where lush lands and farming occur on one side, and to the other, is ice and snow where only the strongest may tread. A state religion of Christianity sustains them through the many hardships. Trade among the cities is widespread, by the virtue of the Great Lighthouse and the Cothons, because a strong sense of community is needed to survive in this unforgiving climate. The scholars are feverishly searching for ways to improve their hard life, helped along by the thousands of scrolls of the Great Library. The whip is often required in a place of few natural resources, but the people understand it's the only way that things can get done at a decent pace.
The Carthaginian people are curious, also--they wonder about the tall tales of lands to the east, where the ice and cold are confined only to a few months out of the year, and other nations exist and thrive--but surely lesser peoples, for they are not hardened and refined by the icelands as is Carthage. Only time and technology will tell...
