Laws {historical} by Hildar | World Anvil

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Spring || 1147AR

Laws {historical}

by Hildar Stormchild

I'm starting to get frustrated at the number of rules. I met a captain today, who told me they'd "decided to waive the death penalty this time" and told me if I was caught poaching in the barony's woods again he would be less lenient. I had no idea I was dealing with such high stakes, purely for hunting a boar. He gave me a big book, and told me to read it, and that I'd be spending a month in the cells to teach me a lesson. I don't know what's worse, struggling through the endless lists of petty rules or staring at the wall and going slowly mad.
In a way it makes me glad when the prison guards come to the bars to jeer, at least it's a distraction.
 
I remember watching the prisoners at the spring gathering when I was just a boy, as they stared sullenly into the distance. Thieves and murderers and worse, waiting for the word of the council to decide their future. I remember deciding they deserved their fate, to be trapped like a rabbit in a snare, for some they would become outcasts, and likely die from exposure on the open plain. I think maybe I was too quick to jump to conclusions, perhaps they were just lost and desperate. Or maybe I am giving myself too much credit, maybe I deserve this as much as they did, for leaving the snowy wastes.
 
Oh this is torture, as I pace the damp box and drive my grieving mind in circles. I can't even write to distract myself, I'm running out of ink