Charas is a town of the Kingdom of Vlandia, ruled by Baron Ingalther of House dey Cortain. The city sits on the warm shores of the gulf that bears its name, where sheltered waters and scattered islands once made it the favored maritime playground of imperial elites. Traditionally reckoned as the first Calradic colony upon the new continent, Charas predates nearly every other major coastal settlement in the Marches. Its harbors, sea walls, and stone quays were laid when the Empire still believed this coast would be the center of its western dominion.
When the imperial capital later moved north to Paravenos, Charasea remained a key hub of seafaring and trade. The gulf became a place of leisure as much as commerce. Aristocrats built summer villas along the warm shores, and pleasure craft cruised between the small islands that dot the bay. Remnants of that age remain: weathered villas overlooking the water, crumbling docks once meant for ornamented ships, and old roadways lined with columns that lead nowhere but memory. The city’s bones were shaped for luxury long before they were shaped for war.
With the arrival of the Vlandians, Charas passed into the hands of House dey Cortain, a ruthless lineage that recognized the city’s value not in beauty, but in wealth and access. The Cortains consolidated control over the harbor, the surrounding estates, and, most importantly, the silver mines in the hills inland from the gulf. These mines now fund the ambitions of the house, turning Charas into a financial engine rather than a mere port of call. Silver flows from the hills into the city’s counting houses, then outward along sea routes and roads to buy influence, mercenaries, and charters far beyond the gulf.
Charas’s economy is layered and unequal. The harbor still supports fishing and trade, but its true wealth comes from silver extraction and export. Ore caravans descend from inland passes to smelters near the city walls, where raw silver is refined before shipment. Merchant houses tied to dey Cortain dominate shipping contracts, and independent traders operate under restrictive charters. The wealth of Charas is visible in its stonework and villas, yet concentrated in the hands of a few families aligned with the ruling house. For common laborers, life is defined by mine shifts, dock work, and the constant presence of armed retainers enforcing Cortain interests.
Baron Ingalther of House dey Cortain rules Charas with open ambition. His family’s reputation for ruthlessness is not accidental. The Cortains do not rely on popularity. They rely on wealth, hired force, and the leverage that silver provides. Ingalther maintains formal loyalty to the crown, pays dues, and answers musters, but his true power base lies in the revenue of the mines and the private forces that revenue sustains. Other nobles view Charas with suspicion, aware that silver can purchase influence quietly, corroding rival houses from within.
The city’s defenses reflect both its wealth and its vulnerability. Sea walls protect the harbor approaches. Watchtowers guard the inland roads that carry silver ore. The harbor chain can be raised to deny entry to hostile ships. Within the city, armed retainers loyal to House dey Cortain patrol key districts, particularly the counting houses and smelting yards. The city watch exists, but it answers more readily to the baron’s household officers than to distant crown officials. This has made Charas orderly, but not just.
Culturally, Charas retains traces of its old imperial elegance beneath the harsher order imposed by its current rulers. Festivals along the gulf shore still echo older traditions of summer feasts and sea rites, though now they are tightly controlled displays sponsored by the ruling house. Pleasure boats still glide among the islands, but they carry merchants and patrons rather than idle aristocrats. The gulf’s beauty remains, but it is framed by watchtowers and guarded villas rather than open leisure.
Across the Marches, Charas is known as a city of silver and ambition. To traders, it is a lucrative but tightly controlled port. To nobles, it is a nest of quiet intrigue funded by mineral wealth. To common folk, it is a place where labor is plentiful but freedom is thin. Charas stands as a reminder that the ruins of empire can be turned into engines of feudal power, and that beauty, when bound to silver, becomes another instrument of rule.