The “Empyrean” Alignment

The Myth-Maker’s Burden


Quotes

“One must imagine themselves eternal, even in defeat.”
“The story is greater than the man. The ideal is greater than the self.”

What is Whispered About Them In A Tavern

“Empyrean? Ah, you mean the lot who refuse to die quietly. Madmen and poets, kings without crowns, warriors who fight for a dream even as the world burns around them. They don’t care about gold, nor power, nor even winning. No, they want the legend. They want to carve their names so deep into history that not even the gods can forget them. And if that means they have to bleed, fall, or burn along the way? So be it”

Symbols, Iconography

  • The broken crown, signifying a king whose rule is eternal, even in ruin.
  • The unwritten book, the story unfinished, the legend yet to be told.
  • The spiral, the infinite loop of rise and fall, creation and destruction.
  • The cogwork sun, symbol of glory through structure, madness through order.
  • The flame, because Empyrean burns.

Typical Membership Stereotypes

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Description

Core Identity & Philosophy
Empyrean is not about ruling, not about wealth, not about conquest. It is about meaning—a hunger so vast that it transcends flesh, time, and even reality itself.
An Empyrean does not seek power for power’s sake. They seek the legend. They chase the ideal. They live for the story that will outlive them. Empyrean is the golden light before the hero falls. It is the poet’s last breath, whispered into an unlistening world. It is the mad inventor, screaming at the heavens, ‘One more experiment, one more!’ It is the king who refuses to kneel, even as the executioner’s shadow falls across him. It is the saint who smiles, knowing the flames will consume them, but their name will live forever. Empyrean is the alchemy of fame, glory, sentimentality, and deep tragedy. It is the knowledge that the story is more important than the self. It is romanticism sharpened into a blade.

Empyreans do not fade.
They do not retire.
They do not settle.

They break. They fall. They die standing—but their names live forever. To be Empyrean is to yearn for what can never be. It is to be haunted by the weight of history and the hunger for legacy. It is to stare into the abyss, knowing that no mortal life can ever hold the enormity of your dreams.

“One must imagine the hero happy in their ruin.”

Empyrean is everywhere and nowhere. It thrives in the margins, in whispered ballads, in the ruins of fallen empires, in the dreams of poets and the desperate declarations of revolutionaries. It is not Omber, not Gold, not the Covenant, though it brushes against them like a fleeting muse.
It is not the Kingdom, not rebellion, not resistance—it is something outside of the structures of power, yet woven into the very bones of the world. Empyrean bleeds into many places, but some of the most notable include:
Hathzoril – A city of vast towers and lost stories, where the symbols of Empyrean can be seen carved into stone and whispered in old taverns.
The Royal Academy – Though deeply entangled with Covenant politics, some scholars there dream in Empyrean hues, writing the myths of tomorrow.
Raell – A distant, fading metropolis where Empyrean thought lingers in forgotten halls and dust-covered tomes.

More than half of Pink-aligned individuals have an Empyrean streak, and vice versa. Many bards unknowingly carry Empyrean mental imprints, their music and stories imbued with an ineffable quality that shapes reality itself.

“Empyrean is not a place, nor a movement.

It is a sickness of the soul, a need to matter beyond all reason.”

In A Nutshell:

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If You Like To Play In This Alignment

If you want to play Empyrean, you are playing a Dreamer of the Impossible. You are a walking paradox—fueled by boundless ambition, yet doomed by your own yearning for something greater than yourself. You chase ideals that will never be fully realized, because the pursuit itself is what matters. You don’t compromise. You don’t settle. You throw yourself into the forge of history and dare it to break you. Empyrean characters are larger than life, driven by grand gestures and even grander failures. They are not concerned with the mundane—they are architects of myth, sculptors of glory, even in ruin.

Difficulty

★★☆☆☆ (Not too bad) –  

What Others Think About Dominion

  • Skyon, Jaded General, Watching the Battlefield: “Empyrean fools? They’re the ones who charge into the fray with nothing but a banner and a battle cry. They inspire, yes, but they also die first. Give me a cold, calculating leader over a glorious martyr any day.”
  • A Pink-Aligned Bard, Smirking Over a Glass of Wine: “Empyrean? Ah, they’re my favorite. My third wife was Empyrean, Eltmann keep her safe! Every song worth singing has an Empyrean at its heart. They dance with destiny, cheat death, and when they fall, they make sure they do it in a way that echoes through eternity. I wouldn’t want to be one—but gods, do I love watching them burn.”
  • Jeremiah Svotz, Scholar at the Royal Academy, Scribbling in a Tome: “Empyrean is both sickness and salvation. A mind touched by Empyrean will never be content with the ordinary. They will either build wonders or destroy themselves in the attempt. And sometimes, they do both at once.”
    A Gold-Aligned Noble, Adjusting His Rings: “They are dreamers, yes, but reckless ones. They could be kings, yet they waste their power chasing myths. And yet… something about them lingers. Even when they fail, they are remembered. That is power of a different kind.”
  • Lydia Curie, Black-Aligned Assassin, Cleaning Her Blade: “Empyrean? They die the loudest. The trick is to let them finish their speech before you slit their throat.”

 

Relationships/Views: 

The Serene

  • Balance:   
  • Elder: 
  • Celestial: 
  • Concord: 
  • Empyrean: 

The Virtues

  • Axiom:
  • The Yoke:
  • Questing:
  • The Pure:
  • Zenith:

The Devout

  • Arcadian:  
  • Archon: 
  • Axis:
  • Dominion:
  • Echelon:
  • Eclipe:
  • Epiphany:
  • Illuminati:
  • Logos:
  • The Sacred King:
  • Utopian:
  • Periphery:
  • Serendipity:
  • The Crusade:
  • The Free:

The Towers

  • Gold: 
  • White:
  • Green:
  • Omber:
  • Grey: 
  • Blue:
  • Purple: 
  • Black:  
  • Red:  
  • Orange:  
  • Pink:

The Despairing

  • Synod:
  • Cabal:
  • Marauder:
  • Aegis:
  • The Vile:
  • The Blight:
  • Paragon:
  • The Damned:
  • Hierarchy:
  • Vortex:
  • Nadir:
  • The Veil:
  • The Order:
  • Dolor:
  • Nexus:

The Damned

  • The Scourge:
  • The Beast:
  • The Hive:
  • The Cult:
  • Chaos:
  • Darkness:

Religions

  • Alalvarites: 
  • The Church Of the Sacred King: 
  • Daevon: 

Ideologies

  • Humanists:
  • The Divine in General: 

Powerblocks

  • The Legions: 
  • The Guilds
  • The Banks
  • The King:   
  • The Feudal Elites:  

Presence In The Capital City

 

Metaphysics

Empyrean magic is art made real. It is power through presence, through belief, through spectacle. It is necromancers raising heroes, not for war, but because their story was unfinished. It is a sword that only sings in the hands of the worthy. It is a castle on the edge of time, ruled by a king who waits for a prophecy that will never come. Empyrean magic is ritual, symbolism, and legacy.
It bends the world not through logic, but through the weight of myth itself.

Grand Declarations: When an Empyrean declares something with conviction, reality listens. “I will not fall!” is not just bravado—it becomes fact.
Legacy Incarnate: The dead sometimes linger, not as mere ghosts, but as echoes, unfinished stories given spectral form.
Fated Weapons & Objects: A blade wielded by a hero, a book penned by a dying scholar—these things carry weight beyond their mere existence.
Golden Light & Fire: The aesthetic of Empyrean magic is often radiant, dramatic, and deeply tragic.
Clockwork & Mechanisms: Some Empyrean practitioners lean toward steampunk aesthetics, with intricate cogs, gears, and celestial maps driving their visions of the world.

Empyrean magic is not subtle. It is theater, orchestra, a crescendo that builds until reality itself must bow before it.

Some Final Observations

When an Empyrean falls, they do so with a smile. Because they were not meant to last. Because they were never meant to reach paradise. Because the chase was always more beautiful than the victory. And because, in their final moment, they know— They will never be forgotten.