A world without a name

            Tarang.
            That’s what the ancients called it. Not many alive in the present day recall that name or what it once meant. The people living there don’t use names for the world anymore. As far as most of them are concerned, their world begins and ends with whatever country they happen to live in. Taking it further, few people ever leave their cities. Perhaps that’s why stories are such a popular commodity; hearing someone talk about another place is just as good as going there yourself without all the messy nonsense of traveling. A good story teller is a valuable thing. It’s quite common for someone to be born, grow up, and die in the same town without ever leaving it.
            This is especially true of the Naktik.
            Who can really blame them? Nakuk is an inhospitable, frozen wasteland. Why they choose to stay there instead of moving south to more hospitable climes is a mystery that’s baffled everyone—even them—for as long as anyone can remember. Stubbornness and pride keep them there; moving south after living there for so long would be admitting defeat and if there’s one thing the Naktik don’t do is give up.
Moving south also means dealing with the Iteri. Not that they don’t get along with the Iteri, but the Iteri are so different that the Naktik feel it’s wisest to stay apart from them.
            The Naktik once roamed the open tundra, building tents of animal skins, but now they live in domed cities. The first once was quite small and unremarkable as such things went and didn’t last for long but the idea stuck with them. As the Naktik evolved as a people so too did their tools and technology. Not much will last in the punishing cold so not much is built. Why waste time and energy into a machine that will be useless when exposed to the cold? No, things are kept simple except for the domes, their most important accomplishment.
            The domed cities are spread out across Nakuk, but its one city in particular that is of importance to this tale. Perched on the edge of the vast tundra, not too far from the tree line, is Kuktaiqik.
            This is where our story begins.