The Hesan Empire is the largest and most disciplined power on the continent of Skybride. Once a loose confederacy of kingdoms across the eastern mountains, the Empire was forged through centuries of divine warfare, reform, and iron law. Its culture blends militarism and imposing grandeur—citizens are taught that order, family lineage, and devotion to @Emperor Isen IV is divine. Its imposing emperor, seen only while dawning an iron dragon mask, has a presence that is more like a god of dread than a human being. His new decree is that expansion is destiny.
The Empire’s legions, known as the Hesan War Covenant, are unmatched in formation and logistics, and its magistrates rule with cold efficiency. Recently, Hesa annexed the ancient kingdom of @Alendria, claiming it as a civilizing and reforming act. But beneath the polished marble of its new holdings, resentment festers. The Empire is a place of loyalty and betrayal, where honor is weaponized and ambition is measured in provinces.
Folklore endures in the countryside, far from the capital’s austere architecture, the people still live with the gods of the war of creation. Hesan folklore is steeped in dread, fatalism, and reverence for the dead and more ancient spirits—not in fear, but in weary familiarity.
Before the rise of the Hesan Empire, eastern Skybride was home to a constellation of sovereign realms—each ruled by ancient noble houses bound mostly by shared tongue, ancestral law, and bitter rivalry. At the ceremonial heart stood the kingdom of Kronehain, seated in @Konigsheim. Haus Kronehain was once revered for its spiritual connection to the first gods and ancient governance. Though once seen as the axis of a people called Hesans in eastern Skybride, Kronehain’s kings had grown soft—favoring diplomacy over steel, mercy over judgment.
The other great houses—Stahlbrand, Eisenruh, Falkenhayn, Rochefort, and Hohenfels—began to whisper of Erbbruch. They accused Kronehain of fracturing its legacy, of failing to uphold the divine burden of inheritance. The realm, they claimed, was unraveling.
Led by Graf Alaric Stahlbrand, a coalition of noble houses declared a war of restoration. Konigsheim was besieged, its banners burned, and its king slain in ritual combat. The ancestral seat of Kronehain was shattered, and the victors prepared to divide the realm.
But amid the ash and silence, a figure emerged: a priest-warrior of obscure birth, calling himself Isen Aschenriss—rumored to be a bastard of Kronehain or a child of battlefield prophecy. He claimed no house and every house, naming it Hesa, by the order of the first gods. He bore a only a blade etched with stories of the first wound. He spoke not of vengeance, but of structure—of restoring the divine architecture of the world through unity, sacrifice, and law.
Isen called for a council, inviting even the victors of Kronehain’s fall. He proposed a new empire ruled by shared legacy and an iron mask.
In a ceremony held beneath the torn banners of every kingdom, Isen underwent the Rite of Rupture. He was symbolically murdered by a knight of each ancestral house, his blood spilled upon the Iron Dragon Mask, forged from the melted blades of the war’s fallen champions.
He rose not as a man, but as Emperor Isen I, vessel of divine order. His voice became law. His breath became silence.
The noble houses, bound by Erbbruchrecht and the trauma of war, swore fealty to the structure he embodied. Thus began the Hesan Empire, forged not from conquest alone, but from the memory of fracture.
Konigsheim was rebuilt as the imperial capital, its shame transfigured into sanctity.
Today, Haus Kronehain survives as a minor house in quiet exile—tolerated, but never restored.
Graf Alaric Stahlbrand was named the first High Marshal, but never Emperor. His descendants still whisper of stolen destiny.
The Council of the Wound became the empire’s sacred adjudicators, guardians of Erbbruchrecht and imperial succession.
The @Hesan Emperor's Mask is passed from Emperor to Emperor, each undergoing the Rite of Rupture before ascension.
The phrase “Where the legacy breaks, the iron must sing” is carved into the walls of @Gotenslag Arena.
During Frostnacht, some say the @Tomb of Barbarossan groans in disatisfaction.
The Emperor is not chosen merely by blood, but by legacy strength—measured through Erbbruchrecht, ancestral continuity, and public perception of moral inheritance. The strongest lineages are seen as the most structurally sound, and thus the most “divine.”
Candidates must be of noble standing, with a lineage that has not suffered Erbbruch.
Major houses are most often considered due to their historical continuity, martial service, and doctrinal purity.
Imperial blood is an advantage, not a legal requirement.
Overseen by the Council of the Wound, composed of magistrates, Hesan Knights, archivists, and ritualists.
Trial of Silence (vision fasting)
Trial of Ash (ritual combat)
Trial of Memory (recitation of imperial doctrine and ancestral oaths)
The Council votes, the Rite of Rupture follows.
A noble house may challenge the candidate via @Gotenslag Arena. If victorious, they earn a place in the Rite of the Axis. One such Emperor who was the result of a contest was Albrecht I.
Before donning the Iron @Hesan Emperor's Mask, a newly chosen emperor must undergo the Rite of Rupture, a ceremonial reenactment of the creation myth.
Setting: @Gotenslag Arena
Participants: The candidate, a masked executioner (often a high ranking Hesan Knight from the War Covenant), and the Council of the Wound (Wundenbund).
Act: The candidate kneels and is ritually “killed”—a shallow blade drawn across the chest, spilling blood onto the mask.
Invocation:
“The sky tore open. Light spilled like blood. The gods were soldiers. So must we be.”
“Let the man die. Order be carved.”
The @Hesan Emperor's Mask is placed upon the candidate’s face by the Nebelherr (Admiral of the Navy, symbolizing the unseen blade).
Once masked, the candidate ceases to be a person. They become their regnal name, or simply Emperor.
Isen I (Aschenriss) (r. 0–37)
Founder of the empire. United the fractured kingdoms through the Rite of Rupture and instituted the @Hesan Emperor's Mask.
Sigmar I (Rochefort) (r. 37–72)
Codified the March Codex and expanded @Gotenslag Arena. Died in a sanctioned ritual duel.
Isen II (Hohenfels) (r. 72–108)
Oversaw construction of the Wundfeste and formalized the Wundenbund’s hierarchy.
Albrecht I (Wieland) (Contest Emperor, r. 108–117)
Rose through Gotenslag challenge. Masked after a second Rite of Rupture. Legitimacy debated for decades.
Isen III (Nachtspiegal) (r. 117–165)
Naval reformer and mystic. Introduced the Runenkiel system and expanded imperial doctrine at sea.
Gerwalt I (Falkenhayn) (r. 165–189)
Short, brutal reign. Known for mass purges and the burning of Kronehain archives.
Matthias I (Hohenfels) (r. 189–221)
Austere and doctrinal. Reasserted Wundenbund authority and standardized the Path of Ash in annexed provinces.
Sigmar II (Fluchtrager) (r. 221–248)
Haunted by visions. His reign saw the Silent Rebellions and the first imperial exorcisms sanctioned by the Red Circle.
Isen IV (Stahlbrand) (r. 248–present)
Expansionist ruler. Oversees cultural conversion campaigns in Alendria and Horn’s Light. Mask rumored to whisper.
@Imperial Citadel: Great Hall - Seat of the emperor. A vast, austere hall embodying the power and order of the Hesan Empire.
@Imperial Citadel: Hesan War Covenant Headquarters - This is the heart of the Hesan War Covenant, where war councils are held, doctrines are revised, and knights are consecrated
Beneath @Konigsheim near the Imperial Citadel lie the @Unterwund Vaults, a labyrinth of collapsed catacombs and forgotten cisterns carved during the empire’s early expansion. Abandoned after cave-ins and whispered hauntings, the vaults became a place of dread where memory itself seems to linger. Strange creatures stalk the dark: @Chronovores that feed on stolen moments, and @Woundshades born from torn banners and broken blades. The air is heavy with echoes of war, and the walls shimmer faintly with mineral veins that glow like dying embers. At the vault’s heart rests the @Star Breath Hourglass, a relic said to replay time itself at the cost of memory. Few dare descend, for the vaults are not merely ruins—they are scars beneath the city, reminders that war and silence endure even underground.