The Fractured Crown of Openheim

In the waning shadow of ancient empires, the realm of Openheim claws its way through the 13th century of its reckoning—an age of smoke, steel, and silent betrayal. It is a land of blood-soaked soil and fractured loyalties, bound only in name under the faltering banner of a High King whose authority hangs by a frayed thread.

The Elective Monarchy

Openheim is an Elective Monarchy, a title earned not by lineage, but by the cunning and cruelty of its most powerful lords. The realm is divided into twenty duchies, each ruled by ambitious Dukes and Duchesses who maneuver endlessly to claim the High Crown. Elections, held once per generation—or sooner if the monarch is deemed unfit—are drenched in bribes, blackmail, and blades in the dark. No duke rises without enemies, and no king reigns without compromise.

Albrecht the Hollow

The current High King, Albrecht the Hollow, is a man eroded by the weight of compromise. Once a promising reformer, now he is little more than a puppet entangled in the webs of his former allies. As the court rots in self-interest, the common folk suffer, their fields burned by raiders, their pleas ignored by knights too busy chasing coin or courtly favor.

Geography & Borders

To the north and west, the Wyrmgrasp Mountains form a jagged, towering wall of rock and frost. Within them dwell savage hill clans, exiled cults, and things far older than men. Their incursions into Openheim lands grow bolder each winter, and their legends speak of a coming reckoning.

The eastward coast is shaped by the vast Inward Sea of Selenar, a lifeline of trade and treachery. Merchant fleets from foreign empires glide through its dark waters, bearing silks, spices, and spies. Coastal cities flourish with decadence and vice, growing ever more distant from the hinterlands they rely on.

To the south lies only the Weeping Deep—a black and storm-wracked ocean that swallows ships whole and returns wreckage as cruel warnings. Few sail its waters. Fewer return. Some whisper of islands lost to time, and great serpents beneath the waves.

A Realm in Chaos

Within the realm, chaos simmers. Bandits style themselves as barons. Witch covens take root in forgotten ruins. Ancient horrors wake in moss-choked tombs. And while the nobles bicker over crowns and titles, the realm bleeds unseen.

Openheim is a land on the brink. Only the cruel, the clever, or the cursed rise in its hierarchy—and only the strong survive its wild frontiers.