Solmaris Empire

Übersicht

Eight centuries of divine rule have etched the Sun God's symbols into every aspect of life, from the grain prayers whispered before meals to the solar icons stamped on coin. The Scarlet Omen changed that. Seven months ago, the eastern sky above Mount Cinder tore open and bled crimson that slowly spreads westward each passing month. Crops wither under the wrong-colored light. Enchantments flicker and fail without warning. Pilgrims flock toward the phenomenon while Inquisitors hunt those who claim it proves the Sun God's absence. The Empire fractures along old fault lines. Guildmasters hedge their bets. Priest-lords purge their own households. And in the eastern provinces, the Church's containment around Mount Cinder suggests they fear what they've found. Pre-Div ruins dot the landscape, their geometric architecture defying every artistic principle the Church teaches. Officially, they don't exist, and anyone found entering one is promptly executed for heresy of the highest order.

Gesellschaft

The Imperial Church functions as both religion and state, with the Sun Emperor serving as divine vessel and temporal ruler. Below him, Arch-Prelates govern vast territories, delegating to Bishop-Counts and Abbot-Barons who command peasant levies and knightly orders alike. Urban guilds operate under Church charters, their magicians bound by doctrinal restrictions on reality manipulation. The feudal web requires tithes of grain, labor, and magical essence. Heresy trials occur in major cities, though the Omen has increased their frequency tenfold. Social mobility exists only through Church service. Guild advancement requires sponsorship. Peasants rarely travel beyond their lord's territory. The crimson sky in the east has exposed tensions long suppressed by faith.

Technologie

Church-sanctioned magitech powers streetlamps, heating stones, and the communication mirrors connecting cathedrals across the Empire. Artificers weave enchantments into everyday objects: self-sharpening plows, cold-preservation chests, and cart-wheels that never crack. The highest technology remains locked within cathedral-fortresses, including the medical altars that cure diseases and the binding circles that supposedly hold worse things at bay. Since the Omen, enchantments have begun to fail or become unpredictable. The Church blames insufficient faith while engineers blame spectral interference from the crimson sky. Neither explanation helps when a bridge's structural wards collapse during rush hour.