The @Vlandic Marches form the western borderlands of @The Continent of Calradia , a broad region of rolling hills, river valleys, and fortified roads that link the Perassic coast to the Calradian Heartlands. The Marches are not a single uniform landscape but a network of estates, villages, castles, and road-forts spaced to control movement across open terrain. Rivers cut the land into manageable corridors, and most travel is funneled through fords, bridges, and stone causeways that have been maintained for generations. The land is fertile enough to support dense rural populations, but exposed enough that no village is far from a road or a watchtower.
Vlandia’s geography has shaped its people into road-keepers and gate-holders. Whoever controls the crossings controls trade, armies, and tax flow. This has produced a culture that prizes order, registration, and hierarchy. Musters are recorded, tolls are enforced, and even remote hamlets know which banner they answer to. The Marches are easy to move through for those who belong, and difficult to move through for those who do not. Travel without papers, seals, or recognized colors invites suspicion, inspection, or detention at road forts.
The Vlandic people are one culture with two major ancestral streams. Inland families of the @High March Folk (Vlandic) trace their lineage to the early Vlandic conquests and hold most of the oldest estates and hill-forts. @Coastborn (Vlandic) along the White Coast and the Perassic shore descend from older seafaring populations who mixed with later settlers. Both are fully Vlandic in law and custom. Differences appear mostly in family traditions, marriage ties, and regional loyalties rather than in language or faith. A knight from the hills and a port captain from the coast may argue about lineage, but both answer to the same banners when war is called.
Vlandic society is openly feudal. Land defines status, and status defines obligation. Nobles hold estates in exchange for military service. Peasants are bound to land or household but can earn status through service in the levy and professional soldiery. Castles anchor authority. Villages exist to feed, equip, and supply those castles. A Vlandic soldier’s rank is not only a matter of skill but of title, and titles are publicly recognized. To be named @Recruit (Vlandic) , Footman, Man-at-Arms, or Sergeant is to be known by the land itself. Advancement is visible and recorded, and titles follow a person across regions.
Literacy in the Marches is uneven and strongly tied to class and function. Among nobles, stewards, clergy, quartermasters, and professional officers, reading and basic record-keeping are common and expected. Among common villagers, literacy is rare. Most peasants cannot read official script and rely on seals, colors, and spoken authority to recognize orders. Some border villages and trade-route settlements have higher literacy due to constant contact with toll records and caravan contracts, but even there, only a small portion of the population can read fluently. Written law exists, but oral custom and witnessed oaths carry equal weight in daily life.
Agriculture in the Marches is practical and focused on durability rather than variety. Common grains include barley, rye, and hardy wheat suited to open fields and rolling terrain. Oats are grown to feed horses and draft animals. Root vegetables, field beans, and hardy greens fill out peasant diets. Livestock is dominated by sheep and cattle in the hills and valleys, with pigs common near woodlands and river edges. Horses are bred selectively for war and labor, with most villages required to maintain a quota of riding and draft animals for musters. Hunting supplements diets near forests, but most meat consumed by common folk is salted or dried rather than fresh.
Trade flows along the maintained road network. Grain, wool, hides, and salted fish move inland from the coast. Ironwork, tools, and finished arms move outward from castle towns and workshops. Toll stations regulate movement of goods, and smuggling is treated as theft from the land itself rather than a minor crime. Markets form around castle gates and river crossings, where villagers, traders, and soldiers mix under watchful eyes. Coin circulates unevenly; many villages still operate on obligation, barter, and seasonal dues.
Vlandic clothing reflects function and status more than fashion. Common villagers wear layered wool and linen, dyed in muted earth tones. Cloaks are heavy and practical, cut to shed rain and wind on open roads. Footwear is sturdy, often patched. Soldiers wear reinforced versions of peasant clothing beneath armor, with padded gambesons common even among levies. Nobles favor brighter dyes, tailored cuts, and visible heraldry. Colors and patterns identify household allegiance at a glance, and wearing a lord’s colors without leave is treated as a serious offense. Armor is practical, meant to endure long marches and bad weather rather than ceremonial display.
The culture of arms in the Marches favors discipline over spectacle. Vlandic warfare is built on shielded infantry, controlled road movement, and the use of fortified positions to break enemy momentum. Heavy cavalry exists, but it is anchored to roads, supply lines, and command structure. A lone knight is impressive; a column of shielded footmen holding a bridge decides campaigns. Vlandic soldiers are taught to fight in formation, hold ground, and deny movement. Retreats are structured, not chaotic. Ambushes are set at crossings, not in open field. Training emphasizes endurance, cohesion, and obedience under pressure.
Religion and custom in the Marches emphasize oath-keeping, witness, and lawful authority. Public vows are binding. Breaking sworn service is not only a crime but a stain that follows families for generations. Most legal matters are settled locally by stewards and castellans, but appeals move upward through noble lines. The law is not gentle, but it is predictable. People know where they stand, and where they fall if they fail. Shrines and small roadside chapels mark old battle sites, crossings, and toll roads, reinforcing the sense that duty is tied to place.
Life in the Marches is not glamorous. Roads are watched. Tolls are collected. Muster bells ring often. Villages expect levies to be called, crops to be requisitioned, and sons to march. In exchange, the Marches are stable. Banditry is suppressed where castles are strong. Trade flows reliably along maintained routes. Famines are rare in the river valleys. The price of stability is constant readiness and regular sacrifice of labor and blood to distant banners.
To outsiders, the Vlandic Marches feel controlled, measured, and slow to change. To those born there, they feel dependable. Stone walls remain where they were built. Roads lead where they always have. Banners shift with politics, but the land endures. The Marches do not promise freedom. They promise that what is owed will be collected, and what is sworn will be honored.
In play, Vlandia is a land of structure and obligation. Characters from the Marches carry the weight of titles, banners, and recorded service. Advancement is visible. Authority is legible. When a Vlandic character speaks of rank, the land itself recognizes the claim.