Crime and Punishment
"I'll see you hang monster, you're under arrest for the rape and murder of Anne Langstrom." -Guard Captain Samuel Redding, arrest of Jaques the Flayer.
Synopsis:
Despite its grand name, the Civil Age has been anything but. Nearly five centuries of turmoil, treachery, and bloodied streets have defined this era, where crime festers in shadowed alleyways, and justice is dealt with a heavy hand. The Monarchy of Everwealth stands firm, issuing decrees that shape the land, yet countless souls have sought to twist, break, or simply ignore the laws in their pursuit of power, wealth, or wicked indulgence. Still, law endures. Not gently, nor kindly, but absolutely. At the heart of its enforcement stand the King’s Guard, a dwindling but unyielding force tasked with keeping civilization from collapsing under its own corruption. Their duty is twofold:
- Protect the law-abiding from the beasts of the wilds and the worse ones within the walls.
- Hunt those who defy the law, drag them into the light, and deliver them to whatever justice awaits.
The laws of the land are neither complex nor negotiable:
- Do not steal.
- Do not trespass.
- Do not deface property.
- Do not murder, maim, or assault your fellow citizens.
- Pay what you owe-taxes, debts, and duties alike.
'The courts, in theory, abide by the principle of “Innocent until proven guilty.” Accused criminals are brought before a Judge, where evidence, witness accounts, and the word of the Guard determine their fate. The trials are simple, efficient, a criminal who cannot talk their way free will soon find their body at the mercy of Everwealth’s unique sense of criminal deterrence. Prisons are not the preferred means of punishment. The kingdom does not have the resources to house filth indefinitely. Instead, it deals with criminals as swiftly as it does brutally. For the minor offender, there are crippling fines, levies that demand months or years of labor’s worth in gold. A pickpocket may be left with no hands to steal with, one who runs from the law may see their legs too broken to ever run again. For the more grievous criminal, Everwealth ensures that justice is remembered. A murderer, particularly one who preys on the innocent, may find themselves sentenced to The Barrel, a punishment both agonizing and poetic in its cruelty. The condemned is sealed within a great ale cask, filled with milk and honey, and cast adrift in the bogs. The milk curdles, the honey clings, and before long, the prisoner is forced to stew in their own filth. The scent draws flies, maggots, and worse, their flesh becoming a feast long before death finally grants them mercy. And this is merely one of the many lessons carved into Everwealth’s criminals. The Crown believes in public deterrence, punishments as much a spectacle as a warning, ensuring that all who see them will think twice before crossing the law. Everwealth is a kingdom of many freedoms, but lawbreaking is not among them. It does not ask much, only that its people abide, pay, and respect the order of things. And yet, the gallows remain busy, the stocks never empty, and the Guards never idle. Perhaps it is the nature of the age, that no rule, no decree, no punishment will ever quell the hunger for crime entirely. But Everwealth is patient. Its justice does not tire. And those who test its limits will, sooner or later, find themselves hanging from a rope, drowning in a barrel, or breaking beneath the wheel.
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