Its heraldry is a crimson shield bearing a white boat, simple yet deeply symbolic. The red speaks of royal authority, wealth, and the blood spilled to keep it. The boat is a tribute to the first Christian missionaries who landed on Hartland’s shores, a vessel of divine purpose crossing pagan tides. It also stands for commerce and sea trade, essential pillars of Hartland’s prosperity. It is both ark and galleon, salvation and success.
Hartland stretches out as a proud peninsula, almost entirely surrounded by the churning Nordsee, with the rivers Piel, Kieselfluss, Nebelfluss, and Rusuch threading through its lands like living veins. The northern Hartland is a tapestry of vast meadows and fertile plains, dotted with estates, stables, and wind-swept farms. The south is cloaked in dense deciduous forests, once sacred to pagans, now owned by nobles who harvest their timber and hunt their game. Its central jewel, Köningshaven, lies nestled on the coast where sea and river meet, strategic, blessed, and ever-bustling.
Hartland is the wealthiest province in all of Steinau, home to nobles, wealthy merchants, and influential clergy. Its prosperity stems from its prime location, fertile land, and early Christianization. The region is deeply urbanized in the north, around Köningshaven and the trade ports, while the south remains rural and noble-owned, reserved for hunting lodges and luxury villas.
The nobility of Hartland are proud and refined, the peasants obedient, and the monks revered. Hartland does not simply follow trends in Steinau, it sets them. Education, fashion, architecture, and religious art all blossom here before spreading outward. This is where culture meets commerce, where gold is minted, and where alliances are forged over wine and silk.
Köningshaven is the oldest and largest city in Steinau, the cradle of Christianity, and the nexus of noble power. The city’s ancient cathedral marks the site where monks first set foot, bearing crosses and hope. From there, Christianity spread like wildfire. Every bishop since then has claimed spiritual ownership of the city, calling it "the first seat of god."
It is a melting pot of cultures, trades, and ideas. Dyers, blacksmiths, glassblowers, vintners, brewers, and scribes walk its cobbled streets. Ships from distant lands crowd its docks, and the smell of incense mingles with fresh bread and sea air. Despite its beauty, the city is no stranger to violence, it’s siege during the War of the Sceptre and Crown left its marks on the walls and hearts alike.
Hartlanders are devout, dignified, and cosmopolitan. Christianity is deeply embedded, but it is a wealthy man’s faith, churches are lavish, and religious art adorns even merchant homes. Saints of Trade, local beatified monks and martyrs associated with prosperity and wise deals, are frequently venerated. Festivals blend faith and wealth. The Landing Day celebrates the arrival of the monks, where nobles parade on white horses and flaunt their wealth to the poor. Gilded weddings, tournament fairs, and harvest feasts are events of grandeur, often attended by foreign emissaries. Hartlanders look down on rural superstition and pagan nonsense, they see themselves as the torchbearers of modernity and order.
At the start of the War of the Sceptre and Crown, Hartland sided with the Bishop, believing in the spiritual authority of the church over the worldly ambitions of a king who fled. Köningshaven, fortified and righteous, refused to yield, and the king's siege ultimately failed. The Bishop took full control of Köningshaven during the conflict, using its wealth and influence to rally other provinces. The King’s decision to flee to Anghem painted him as a coward in the eyes of many, especially among the Hartland nobility. However, not all nobles were unified, some nobles and merchant families tried to remain neutral, fearing ruin if the war turned.
Köningshaven still bears the scars of the failed siege, breached walls, burnt houses, and stories of valiant defense. Yet, the city has recovered swiftly thanks to its wealth and industry. The bishop remains in power, though his influence is now tempered by the increasing demands of merchants who seek to limit his grip on trade.
The south remains loyal and stable, but some northern estates have begun quietly resenting the costs of war and heavy taxation from both crown and church. A new elite of merchant barons is rising, and while Hartland is still devout, its future may lie more with the coin than the cross.