Exilon was a world forged in hardship and baptized in suffering. It was a place where the sun rarely shone and where the land itself seemed to reject the warmth of life.
The skies were perpetually cloaked in thick, gray clouds that loomed like a judgment, and a bone-chilling rain fell for most of the year.
The ground was cold, damp, and unyielding, and the bitter wind carved its way across the land with a savage relentlessness.
In some seasons, the temperatures dropped so drastically that anyone without the strength of cultivation would simply freeze to death within hours.
Yet the climate was only the first of many trials Exilon had to offer.
