CRIME IN THE CITY

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There are many professions that claim to be the oldest. Thieves say that they are the oldest profession, prostitutes that they are, cutpurses that they are, and smugglers that they are. There is no evidence to support any of these claims. However, all of the claimants belong to what the City Watch prefers to call ‘the criminal underworld’. It is perhaps this ‘underworld’ as a whole that is the oldest profession – whenever the City is spoken of, a mention of crime is sure to follow. It is irrevocably entwined with the history of the City.

There are certain facts that point to crime being the oldest profession in the City. The City was founded on the ruins of Karath-Din, the fabled city of the Precursors, which was found and briefly explored by us before being sealed once more. Possibly destroyed by experiments in necromancy or the influence of the Trickster, it was sealed underground for countless years, until it was discovered, by chance, discovered by us. Time for exploration was short, and we were forced to leave soon after exploring it initially. A later expedition placed the Talisman of Fire there, but no more was ever heard from them.

Karath-Din has since been explored by a variety of people. First there was Garrett, of whom no mention needs to be made. His entrance alerted the Elemental Mages, whom we observed to enter soon after him. Where he emerged, they did not, and events following Garrett’s ‘archaeological expedition’ meant that it was not possible to spare the personnel to fully investigate the situation there. This was to prove our undoing, and we were unable to take sufficient precautions to prevent the Mechanists discovering the entrance. Their finding of the Masks and Cultivators was unpredicted by the glyphs, but we were reassured by the knowledge that Karras would almost certainly have employed his Children to perform his twisted tasks had the Cultivators and rust gas been unavailable.

However, before its discovery, the location of Karath-Din was unknown. Faint rumours of a fabled ‘Lost City’ pervaded the Land like mist, and the lure of treasure drew the treasure hunters and grave robbers to where the mist seemed thickest. Evidence suggests that it was a small community, threatened by the Trickster’s minions from without and by the unsavoury elements from within. Lawlessness was rife, each individual criminal following his own moral code. The rule seemed to be “eat, or be eaten”. This is no exaggeration – cannibalism is one of the lesser excesses that appear to have been perpetuated during this time.

The small settlement grew, possibly fuelled by the discovery of several Precursor artefacts. Certainly this would explain the fabled vase of Lord Randall, which bears a striking resemblance in form to those observed in Karath-Din. The value of the piece is not in its appearance, but in its heritage. These artefacts might have been recovered from an outer-lying suburb of the Lost City, or perhaps a trade caravan leaving for another city-state. Whatever the origin, the news of the reputed find of the piece soon spread, and the population of the small settlement grew as more grave robbers flooded in, each after their own fortune in gold or precious gems.

With them came other people, who were not there for the fabled treasure of the Lost City. They were perhaps farmers, tradesmen, opportunists, who saw a settlement of people and saw profit. It would appear that they set up farms and sold the produce to the unsavoury elements, or provided mining tools to aid with the excavations. The small settlement grew to a village, and then to a small town, enclosed by a wall and with a river running through it. The criminal element, for so long the majority in the village, began to be outnumbered by the people arriving to claim land for farming or mining. The villagers seem to have grouped together and resisted the attempts of the criminals to claim protection money or steal their produce. As more people arrived, the criminals were forced further underground to avoid the attention of these groups.

At this point, there appear to be loose groups of criminals, thieves and ruffians who stayed together for companionship and to prevent themselves being murdered by another criminal. The groups were loose-knit, and fragmentary accounts suggested that there were many changes of allegiance depending on which group was judged to be the most powerful.

However, as the City grew in size to a small town, so did the progress of crime advance another step. Gradually the groups of thieves, thugs, pimps and ruffians became more close-knit and more competitive. Criminals no longer changed allegiances as they saw fit; if they tried to, they were dissuaded, sometimes permanently. Each group graduated towards a certain area of the town, based on their composition. The groups with many thieves appear to have taken the emerging richer parts of town as their ‘ward’, while the groups of thugs began to control the docks and the working-class areas that emerged to service them. The word ‘ward’ is interesting in its etymology, appearing to come from the word ‘warder’ – to protect. It is perhaps a mocking reference to the groups’ policy of protecting their area from the other groups, often by use of force.

As with all groups that have ever existed, there was a leader to each group. More often it was the strongest, sometimes it was the cleverest, and occasionally it was the slyest. At first the leader participated in the activities of the group, but as allegiances became more strictly controlled and loyalties confirmed by means other than persuasion, the leaders became increasingly devolved from this. More often they remained in the background, manipulating their criminals and taking their profits. As the groups became ever more separated from each other, and the wards emerged, the leaders became known as ‘Wardens of the City’ – again a mocking reference to preventing other groups from operating in their ward. Popular usage has reduced this to ‘City Wardens’, or sometimes even just ‘Wardens’.

At this point the ruling structure in the City was extremely stratified, with little upward social mobility and clear class distinctions. The Baron, an absolute ruler, lorded over a collection of self-appointed nobles, who in turn controlled the lesser nobles and the other citizens. The lords ruled small portions of the City, in a similar manner to the Wardens. They collected taxes from the occupants, and owned land beyond the boundaries of the City walls. In a similar manner, the Wardens controlled their wards. They extracted protection money, or simply stole it. Ruffians would mug helpless citizens, while thieves would take their money in more discreet ways. Prostitutes appear to have flourished at this time, offering brief liaisons in houses controlled by the Wardens. Often there would be many ‘ladies of negotiable affections’ one building, and these buildings became known as ‘stables’ because of the ‘stalls’ that were there for the women to practice their trade. The word stable has gradually come to mean any business, legitimate or otherwise, owned by a group.

In addition to these groups and their wards, there appear to be at this point two more varieties of criminals. Several guilds were formed consisting of one type of criminal; perhaps thieves, highwaymen, or cutpurses. Highwaymen preyed on the wagons that left the City for other cities, carrying gold from the mines outside the City, or the wines from vineyards. Their favoured tactic was apparently to lay a tree across the dirt track ahead of the wagon, and then to use swords and arrows to force the wagon driver to deliver his goods or face being killed. Merchants armed wagons with guards, and gradually they began to travel in convoy – the guilds emerged as a way of combating this. These guilds gave themselves fanciful names, but few were successful, and most were broken up or merged into Warden’s organisations. Those that prospered owed allegiance only to themselves, but soon found that it was difficult to remain neutral in the dangerous environment of the City. Soon, most allied themselves with a certain Warden, and became in effect semi-independent guilds – they could only steal from their Warden’s enemies, and had to obey his demands immediately.

However, the third variety of criminal is perhaps the most interesting, for then the group existed in far greater numbers than it does at the present time. The group is the independent criminals, the cleverest and slyest of those in the City, who were cunning enough and skilled enough not to require the assistance of the guilds or the Wardens. Only the best remained so, but they were unbound by the ties of loyalty and free to go after the best prizes. Due to the nature of their work, thieves and cutpurses formed the greater part of this group, and in particular the so-called ‘lock-pick thieves’ – called so because their targets were usually protected by locks. Other types of thieves were ‘scholars’, who could read and write and specialised in obtaining books and documents of rival merchants, ‘cranes’, so called because they ‘lifted’ purses and other small objects from people’s belts, and ‘saddlers’, who specialised in stealing horses and other animals. Horses at this point were rare and expensive, and a strong one might fetch enough money to support a man for many months.

Facing these hardened criminals were the hardened drunks of the Baron’s private police force, a motley body of men who, if contemporary accounts are to be believed, spent most of their time in the City’s taverns. Corrupt and ill-disciplined, they might even be counted as a crime group themselves, with the Baron as their warden and the entire City as their ward. Raised by the lords, swearing allegiance to the Baron, and pocketing bribes from the City Wardens, it was this force of militia that was also expected to see off any invading force. With the benefit of hindsight, it is extremely fortunate that the City was not at this point an important place, and so not worthy of the notice of other, expansionist, city-states.

When speaking of the actions of the Wardens, it will be noticed that usually the individual actions of the Wardens are not followed. There are several reasons, the main one being that in most cases identical actions were taken by all of them. The Wardens usually acted as one, realising that divided they risk individual annihilation, and that they could only survive by presenting to the forces of law and order a united front. This is not to say that there were no conflicts between Wardens – there was, but it was low-level, and did not threaten the unity of the Wardens.

It is at this point that the Hammerites appear to have made their impact on crime in the City. Evidence suggests that before this point they were a small group, perhaps commanding the loyalty of the people, but small in numbers and under the control of the Baron. For a reason not known, membership in the Order swelled, and the Hammerites felt confident enough to take on the City Wardens, and incidentally the Baron. It is perhaps the benefits they brought to the City, of powered lighting, sewage and public access to water, that caused this wave of popular support. Whatever the cause, they rioted, overthrew the true Baron and replaced him with a figurehead controlled by the new City Council. They also caused the formation of the City Guard, intended to police the City and act as an army in times of war. It is unclear whether the Hammerites set this up out of genuine concern for the people, or to provide them with a labour pool of expendable police who could be relied upon to obey the Hammers.

Thusly greatly increased in power, the Hammerites were able to enforce their strict morals upon the rest of the City, which had begun expanding and gained the district of Stonemarket. Disapproving of the corrupt police force and City judiciary, they made their own patrols, not hesitating to enter the worst districts in pursuit of criminals. They ignored the basics of civil liberty that even the former Baron had dared not interfere with, and arrested people on little or no evidence. This policy resulted in many criminals being killed, but also many innocents caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Interestingly, this marks the end of the era of the all-powerful City Wardens. The Hammerites’ unique powers of persuasion meant that group members or guild members were only too willing to reveal their comrades. Whole organisations were destroyed, and several Wardens arrested and put to death. The remaining Wardens soon took hint, and fragmented their wards into many small, competing guilds. The strategy worked to some extent; the Hammerites picked up on the most incompetent of the new guilds, and when the pressure later eased the Wardens were able to re-unite their groups, this time with the more proficient groups who had survived.

However, this period was very much the time of the independent criminal, and many did not join the new, smaller guilds that resulted from the Hammer’s patrols, but instead tried to survive on their own. Their lack of ties and obligations to the Wardens meant that they were essentially free, and crime seems to have actually increased, because the Hammers were unable to arrest many criminals merely by making one talk. A new breed of fences and pawn-mongers also arose, to cater for the independent thieves who had many valuables but no way of selling them.

The Hammer policing declined in its intensity gradually, due to declining numbers and increasing anger towards it from the citizens. Angry at living in a City effectively controlled by religious fanatics, they began to look back on the better days in the past when they had their freedom, and when the Wardens were perceived to have a strange sense of honour that prevented them from stealing from the poor. This was of course nonsense, but it is comforting to many people to retreat into the past, and it appears they did so here. Support for the Hammers fell, and crime rates rose. The criminals took advantage of the Hammers’ laxity and began to become ever more bold. The Hammers, apparently seeing their control of the City being wrested from their grasp, sought to win it back by sending out larger patrols, with heavier weapons and more deadly intent.

However, this only caused the citizens to feel even more threatened. Mistakenly believing that the City Guard could take over the activities of the Hammerites, they began to resist the Hammerite oppression even more than before, eventually driving the members of the Order to seek shelter in temples built like fortresses. This left the City Guard to patrol the streets. In this they failed as miserably as the Baron’s police had before them. Corrupt, ill-disciplined and totally useless, they allowed the ailing City Wardens to re-unite their organisations, consolidate their power, and again subject the City to waves of crime. Order in the City began to break down, and riots became ever more frequent. Poor harvests caused resentment, as did the withdrawl of the Hammerites, who had retreated into their temples and left their machinery outside them to rust.

It was under these conditions that the Baron made a grab for power. Outraged at his family having been used as a figurehead, with the support of several nobles he attempted to destroy the Hammerite power and return to the days of absolute rulership. However, the means by which he attempted to accomplish this were disastrous. He struck a deal with some of the City Wardens that he would reward them handsomely for their assistance, provided they destroy the Hammerites. This was to prove a fatal error. The criminals were not restrained by any authority other than their own, and did not restrict themselves to attempting to destroy the Hammerites. They pillaged much of the City, murdering the men and raping the women, despite the feeble attempts by the City Guard to prevent this. The situation looked as if it were spiralling out of control. Once again the people turned to the Order of the Hammer, and once again their prayers to the Master Builder were answered. Disciplined, fanatical and utterly fearless, the Hammerites despatched the rioting criminals within days, and the Baron within the month. A new figurehead was appointed, and the remaining Wardens retreated to lick their wounds, and prepare for the inevitable storm.

However, this did not arise. The Hammerites, despite having won and having massive popular support for the time, seemed to now go to the opposite extreme. Apart from night watchmen, there were no Hammerites guarding the streets. The City Guard was forced by necessity to become proficient, or risk being destroyed by angry mobs. It was an initiation of fire, but it worked. Forced to become proficient, the City Guard succeeded in maintaining a presence on the streets that dissuaded crime, and also began to conduct investigations into suspected Wardens. However, the major bar to complete success was that the City Guard was itself fragmented, each taxgelt district having its own force, with its own Sheriff in charge of it. There was no inter-district co-operation, and the Wardens were too inconsiderate to contemplate conveniently adjusting the size of their wards so as to conform to the districts of the City.

Despite this disadvantage the City Guard worked after a fashion, and street crime was decreased to the point that it became safe to walk about the streets unaccompanied. The Wardens had resurrected their organisations, and this pleased some of the separate guilds that had emerged, due to the guarantee of a market for their skills. At this point a new facet emerged in the flawed gem that is crime in the City. The fragmentation of the Warden’s groups had inconvenienced them greatly, the resulting end to their income threatening to reveal them as people more than just prosperous citizens. They began to set up semi-illegal, or sometimes legal, businesses. These aided in the laundering of forged coins, and also provided a convenient front for other criminal businesses. For instance, one group whose ward was the docks of Eastport and Dayport set up a shipping business that was perfect cover for the illegal smuggling operations that they also controlled.

New breeds of criminals also began to emerge, besides those already in residence in the City. The increasing use of money as a medium of exchange, rather than the bartering that had gone on before, meant that coinfakers began to emerge, aided by the supply of gold now coming from mines in the mountains by the City. The wagons that carried this to the ships at the docks began to come under increasing attack from unidentified assailants, who would steal the gold from the slow, lumbering wagons. There was almost another public riot when it was found that these mysterious assailants were in fact the Baron’s private army. However, many people were reluctant to dispel their newfound prosperity, and although there were public demonstrations not much was made of it after a time. The only thing that came out of it was the establishment of street lighting upon the major roads of the City. Built by the Hammers, it resulted in a further decrease in street crime, which caused people to become sympathetic towards the Order of the Hammer.

The increase in trade caused by the discovery of the gold, and by the extension of the City, resulted in many more ships carrying goods to far-off places. Laden with gold and precious metals, returning with food, fine woods and other valuables, the ships were easy targets for piracy. Following the example set by Captain Markham, pirates began to emerge and prey on these merchant ships. Typically they would set themselves alongside the cargo ship and board it. After a fight that the pirates would usually win, they would place a prize crew on the ship and sail it to a safe harbour, with the pirate ship escorting it. At the harbour the cargo would be unloaded, and sold through a variety of channels. Most of these pirates were independent, but a few came to be controlled by the Wardens. Indeed, one Warden is known to have tricked his merchant insurers into paying the cost of his ship and its cargo after it had been captured by a pirate, whom he thoug

The legitimate shipping companies were increasingly dismayed by the loss of their ships, and formed a union called the ‘Union of Importers and Exporters’. By pooling their funds they placed orders around the City shipyards for a navy of gunboats and sloops, with several frigates. Heavily armed enough to see off the pirates, and with the cargo ships now sailing in convoy, the battle against piracy was thought to have been won. However, the Wardens were angered by this action, and instigated a scheme to destroy the navy. They infiltrated the Union, and with their usual cunning and guile eventually turned its members against each other. Soon infighting was strife, culminating in the Battle of Markham’s Isle, where the frigates of opposing factions were so busy fighting each other that Markham was able to capture the convoy and sink the frigates. Rather than see the end of the navy and the increasing rise in piracy, the City Council requisitioned to ships and formed them into the City Navy.

Encouraged by the rise in popularity, the Hammerites began to send out patrols once more. Their justice was just as harsh and swift as it had been previously, and soon the City Guard began to feel slighted. They were being pushed aside by the greater accomplishments of the Hammers, and resentment caused them to begin to turn towards the Wardens. The upper echelons of the City Guard began to accept payments from the Wardens, in return for not being so inquisitive, and corrupt soon spread to the whole of the Guard. The fragmented nature of the Guard meant that some district contingents were not affected, and remained loyal to the Baron and the City Council, but they could do nothing to halt the activities of their brethren.

In response to this corruption the Hammerites increased patrols, and began to increase the pressure on the City Wardens. Guilds were found and destroyed, businesses had their premises razed to the ground, and the stables of the Wardens were in shambles. The City Wardens felt increasingly threatened by the attention of the Hammerites, and so implemented the most audacious, and foolhardy scheme in their history. They bribed the leaders of the City Guard to order and attack on a major Hammerite temple in Downtowne, where the High Priest was resting overnight. The temple is now the Cathedral of the Hammerite Order. The gates were opened by a traitor inside the temple, Brother Dale, and the sheer volume of men nearly overpowered the Hammerites. Forced to retreat to the catacombs, they only finally defeated the enemy when dawn broke.

Incensed, and baying for the blood of the City Guard, the Hammerites massed their army and marched on the City Guard headquarters. Held at bay by archers on the roof, despite massive attacks by siege weaponry and priests, the fortress failed to fall, and soon reinforcements arrived from the City Guard. The Hammerites were beaten back, took great losses, and were forced to retreat to the safety of their most heavily fortified temples, and to the new Cathedral in the Old Quarter. The City Guard laid siege to them for several months.

As the Hammerites slowly starved behind their walls, the City died on the outside. Pumps and engines broke down and were not repaired, crime was rife as the Wardens took advantage of lack of any guards on the street, and trade declined as the City looked to be spilling over into civil war. To his credit, the Baron of the day did much to ameliorate the situation. The City Guard was to be purged, restructed so as to be headed with an elected commissioner, and given adequate training in the task of law enforcement. The Hammerites were to be allowed to impose their laws on the City at their own will, to send out patrols to enforce those laws, and to create their own private goal in the mountains outside the City.

Goals had previously existed in the City, but Cragscleft was to be as better than them. The old goals had been constructed in the district of Prisongate, but they had been small and cramped, and mainly used to hold prisoners before punishment. Criminals were held in small, ill-ventilated cells to await trial or punishment in the form of death or mutilation. Their food, such as it was, was paid for, but they were allowed to buy amenities such as blankets or additional food. Whether the corrupt jailers allowed it through was another matter. There were also cells in most of the small police stations scattered around the City, but they were only holding cells, which served to restrain the criminal until he could be transported to the main prisons.

Cragscleft did away with all this. The prison was built in the mountains, in an abandoned gold quarry, far away from refuge. The undead were said to haunt the lower mines, while there was only one entrance – which was to be guarded by Hammerites. Four cellblocks were constructed, with remote-opening doors controlled from a room high above most of the cells. Motion sensors at the entrance to the cellblocks – a later addition designed by the then Brother Karras – prevented unauthorised access, while there was also a factory for the prisoners to work in and a punishment yard for them to be beaten in. The cells were bare and dark, with no bed or even straw, and only a grate in the centre for drainage. Barracks housed the guard contingent, but they were rarely needed – no-one has ever escaped from Cragscleft.

These events caused massive upheavals amongst the criminal brethren. Criminals were being killed or thrown into prison, organisations were being destroyed, and the Wardens had no hope of containing the threat. Once again they fragmented their organisations into many self-sustaining cells, to allow them to survive the storm. When this began to prove ineffective, they changed tactics, and began to adopt a policy none of them had dared do before.

The nobility, to supplement their income, often set up and ran semi-legitimate businesses – businesses that were morally questionable by the standards of the Hammers. Gambling dens, brothels, bear pits, and burrick tracks all began to spring up, often concealed beneath an exterior of a legitimate business. The nobles ran their businesses by proxy, with middlemen to prevent their involvement being known. However, the middlemen were susceptible to bribes and threats, and the Wardens were in a position to blackmail the nobles. The terms were simple – prevent the Hammers from bothering us, and you get to keep your reputation and your income. Most of the nobles agreed, perhaps persuaded by the events resulting when one noble refused. They paid protection money to the Wardens, and began to try to control the Hammer patrols. This policy was partially successful, mostly due to the fact that Hammer patrols were declining in size anyway as falling numbers of acolytes caused manpower shortages among the Hammerites.

By this time, the Wardens and their groups had involved into organisations rivalling the City government in complexity. At their head was the City Warden, a powerful man who often rose to his post through trickery and cunning. The few groups that tried to implement a hereditary Wardenship soon disappeared when it became clear that the son as never the same as the father. Many Wardens posed as rich merchants, and owned businesses that accounted for their wealth, and provided cover for their illegal activities. Some owned shipping businesses, others construction firms, others dealers in valuables. Sometimes the income alone from these companies would have made a man rich.

The Warden always had an aide-de-camp, a man powerful in his own right whose job it was to oversee the day-to-day workings of the organisation. The right-hand man required utmost loyalty towards the Warden and his organisation, and it was for this reason that these men were often selected by the Wardens. Below these two men were several more, who oversee various aspects of the organisation. These aspects vary depending on the location of the ward. Often there was one who administrated the stables, where the criminals of the organisation lodged and where some activities were carried out. This man would have had responsibility for the upkeep of the stables, their provisioning, and also for the activities such as prostitution or coinfaking. Another man would have handled the gathering of information, from spies and informants, about other groups or rival organisations. Yet another man would have cared for the finances, and the accounts of the organisation. A final man would have acted as a liaison between the various affiliated and semi-independent guilds.

The guilds that existed in the City occurred in various forms. Most were relatively large, composed of one profession, and were usually allied with a single Warden. The most common types of guilds were thieves’ guilds, but there also existed guilds for smugglers, highwaymen, coinfakers and other types of criminals. There were even different types of thieves’ guilds, ranging from ‘lock-pick thieves’ to ‘scholars’. Most were semi-independent, affiliated, but not under the total control, of a warden. The guild was free to administrate itself, choose its own targets, and make its own decisions. The Warden could specify targets, and also expected that his other guilds or organisations would not be affected – this obedience was forced by either payments or fear, or sometimes a combination.

Some guilds were guilds in name alone, merely extensions of the Warden’s organisations, and could not even choose their own members. These were few in number, as most of this small group were eventually absorbed into the greater organisation. Other guilds were completely independent, with no ties of loyalty to anyone. By their very nature these were only composed of some of the best of their profession, and usually very small. They escaped being affiliated with a Warden by maintaining a low profile, or by making themselves undesirable allies. Some Wardens wanted to see their elimination, others valued the fact that they were unpredictable and could cause damage to their opponents.

Also included under the category of guilds were the independent criminals, who operated alone or sometimes in pairs. Again, there were different categories of allegiance. Some were in the pay of Wardens, lived in their stables, and could not act without their permission. Others were loosely affiliated with Wardens, but maintained no strong ties. The last group was the fully independent group of criminals, and was the most proficient type of group. The independents had no ties of allegiance, but also had no one to rely on to help them escape from trouble. The weak and incompetent were weeded out early, and only the best lived and succeeded. They lived in permanent fear of betrayal, having no friends but a wide range of contacts, and consistently obtained the most valuable of prizes. Of these, Garrett is the most well known to us all. Fully independent, he is among the best in his trade. Approached by Ramirez with an offer to join his stables, the Warden’s subsequent actions indicate how desperate he was to have this thief either under his control or dead. Perhaps Ramirez’s anxiety can be traced to the events that occurred before Garrett became embroiled in the affair that resulted in the death of the Trickster. Garrett was denied a prize by a Warden, Larnseng, who was engaged in cheating another Warden, Ramirez himself. Garrett found incriminating evidence on Larnseng, and ensured that it reached Ramirez. Larnseng was betrayed and sent to Cragscleft.

Most of the criminals in this category were thieves, but some were not. There were independent suppliers of weaponry that remained outside the Warden’s control, and fences and thiefs-pawns that were independent of them. As with so many other types of criminals, there were various types of fences. Some dealt with valuables, others with smaller valuables. Some dealt in books and literature, while a few concerned themselves with potions and medicinals. Additionally, some criminals such as prostitutes and cutpurses were so frequent in the City as to be surplus to requirements, and were, as a result, ignored by the Wardens. Only the most proficient at these professions ever attracted their attentions.

This system remained unchanged throughout the upheavals that occurred after this period. The Wardens resisted the events at the Cathedral and the building of the Barricades – all except one who lost his ward and was forced into poverty; the infamous Lord Barak. It was his former land upon which Constantine constructed his mansion. Crime continued at its former level, the streets being safe to walk during the day, but dangerous at night. The businesses of the Wardens even flourished, as the building of the Barricades required building stone. Most was quarried from the quarries of Lord Whitsimon, but this created a shortage of cheap building stone – the connections several Wardens possessed allowed them to profit admirably from the stone that they were able to sell.

While the streets were safe during the day, what lay beneath them was never safe. The sewage of the City drains into pipes and caverns beneath the City, where pumping engines push it through to the sea. Beneath the City is a network of tunnels, rooms and pools, through which the sewage passes. Similarly, the lines carrying power throughout the City run beneath the streets, and there is a system of tunnels to allow for their maintenance. These subterranean complexes, rarely visited by engineers except in the event of an emergency, had been found to be the perfect hideout for the guilds of criminals that needed to stay hidden. The tunnels are dry, due to a network of locks and doors that prevent sewage and water overflowing, and contain numerous exits to the upper world. They are ideal places for concealment, and more than half of the tunnels beneath the City were too dangerous for engineers to venture in to.

The tunnels also connect with the district of Wayside, the slum area of the City. The story of its founding is well known, as are the events that followed it. The pagan riots there caused to Hammers to ostracize it, and refrain from building the sewage tunnels and power conduits that all other districts have. Those with money moved out, those without money moved in, and the place became a slum. Buildings were made of wood, not stone, and periodically burnt down. Water was collected from a few wells sunk into the rock beneath the City. The area was the haunt of criminals, of prostitutes and thieves and thugs, who preyed on the few people there attempting to make an honest living. It was also a place where those who did not want to be found disappeared – some never to reappear. The tunnels that were being built were sealed off, but they were reopened, and offered a convenient interchange between the world above and the world below.

It is at this point in the history of crime in the City that there occurred an event that shocked many of the City Wardens deeply. The Baron, though orders given to the City Guard, arrested and imprisoned many of the thugs and tough-boys of one Warden, DeWall, whose wards were Newmarket and New Quarter. Of a noble family, as indicated by the honorary “de” that preceded his name, DeWall’s stables specialised in the smuggling of rare and expensive goods to the markets and relatively rich districts of the City. There is no evidence to support the theory that the Baron had been cheated by DeWall and so took his revenge, but it was a common rumour around the time of the events. The idea that the people of the City exerted pressure on the Baron to deal with DeWall is ridiculous, however much the Hammerites may state it. The Baron has no record of having ever listened to the requests of the people, who seem to have valued DeWall for the forbidden luxuries that he was able to provide. Whatever the reason, DeWall was ruined, and sank into obscurity, while his wards were taken over by fellow Warden Raputo. However, there were also rumours that DeWall was betrayed by “one of his own”. Whether this was a comment on the ethics of the Baron, or an accurate description of what happened, is unknown, but it caused significant changes. The Wardens began to distance themselves from their groups, and retreat more into the background. While this was effective in reducing their notoriety, it meant that they were unable to receive feedback from their various enterprises, leading to an increasing stratified and immovable command structure, and a certain reluctance to consider untried methods.

It would be a fallacy to imagine that crime, especially organised crime, is unique to the City. Every city in the land has criminals, but there are few that have such groups as are found here. In most cities there are not groups, but large guilds, composed of several types of criminal with roughly corresponding tasks. For instance, a guild in Blackbrook may contain highwaymen and smugglers – all people concerned with the movement of goods. The antipathy between cities was never allowed to stand in the way of commerce, and there was traffic in goods between the criminal guilds and groups of various cities. Sometimes the guilds even had ambassadors in the most profitable cities, to act as a liaison between the two groups. One of the most notorious of these was Dorcas Goodfellow, an ambassador to the City from the Blackbrook Underguild. Goodfellow traded in elemental crystals and other items of a magical nature, items that the City possesses few of. He was extremely successful, alternately hated and praised by the Wardens for his high prices but wide range of goods and contacts.

This structure of the Warden’s organisation remained unchanged until the events after the death of the Trickster. This period was perhaps the most radical alteration to the power structure of the City since the Hammerite revolt. The events have been related elsewhere, and will only be mentioned here as they affect that topic at hand. The fragmentations and discrediting of the Hammerites, and the rabid infighting that drew in most of their men, meant that the streets were once again free of any type of policing. The Commissioner of the City Guard, a certain deNavan, was in the pay of the Wardens, Ramirez in particular. Motivated to do the right things for the wrong reasons, he forced the unification of the City Guard, and an offensive against the Trickster’s minions. He was probably forced to do this by the Wardens, anxious to protect the valuable warehouses in the districts where the beasts emerged.

The City Guard defeated the Trickster’s beasts, thanks mainly to a young Lieutenant, Truart, who laid siege to the Hammerite Cathedral in which the beasts had taken refuge. The Baron promoted Truart to the post of Sheriff, but gave him no district to administrate. The image of the dashing hero and the honourable actions of the City Guard was of immense propaganda value, and many flocked to join the organisation. Some of the Wardens sent their own men to volunteer as members of the Guard, so as to have a network of informers inside the organisation. Commissioner deNavan had been killed by the Wardens, unhappy that he had failed to protect the warehouses, and Sheriff Truart was able to use his influence to open the City Guard to women. The organisation grew to massive proportions. Some district contingents were forced to raid the City Army supply dumps to obtain weapons.

However, the organisation had not been purged, and many of the upper ranks were in the pay of the Wardens. The Baron was justifiably worried at these crime bosses having so much power, but his attempt to use the City Army to enforce a purge failed. The citizens, unaware of the corruption, reacted angrily to this, and drove the Baron into exile from the City. The last remains of the feudal system had been brought down. The City Council, cowed by the power Truart had over the mob, made him Sheriff of Shoalsgate, and unofficially the leader of the City Guard. He implemented a program of wide-ranging changes, perhaps the most extensive for years.

The system of district contingents was abolished – the new police force was to be a single unit. They would have one headquarters, one leader, and one beat; the entire City. This amalgamation allowed Truart to act more strongly against the City Wardens. He created various departments of detectives concerned with various aspects of crime, and instituted a system of recording all crime committed. He created a department dealing with the arrest of the City Wardens, who were to have access to all the records, and be given powers to arrest and detain suspected Wardens. Emphasis was now placed on arresting the powers behind the criminals, the thieves-pawns, pimps and fences. With nowhere to sell stolen goods or to take money, criminals were helpless, and many fell destitute. They now presented easy targets for the new organisation, now renamed the City Watch. The meaning behind the name is intriguing, perhaps indicating a move now towards surveillance rather than active preventation of crime. With the aid of Mosley and Hagen, Truart purged the upper echelons of the new City Watch, and appointed honest officers. It seems that this was also an opportunity for Truart to remove dissenters, and elevate supporters to high offices.

Truart reserved most of his resources for the Wardens, pursuing them mercilessly. The Wardens took lessons from the past and fragmented their organisations, splitting them once again into separate guilds, and living on the income from their businesses. However, Truart was not like any enemy they had ever encountered. He went for the heads of the guilds, their bookkeepers and fences, and was thus able to find out details the controllers of the guilds. He went for them, and the trail led him back to the Wardens. Some fled, but others were arrested and killed. Ramirez, Raputo, Webster – all met their fate in the yard of Shoalsgate station, from the tree in its centre. Truart was cunning, and avoided shutting down any of the businesses belonging to the nobles. Thankful for this, and aware that he too could now blackmail them, the grateful nobles yielded more information about the Wardens, and their legal businesses in the City.

Not even the guilds were spared the onslaught of the City Watch. The Downwinders were broken up and imprisoned, others were forced to flee or face death. Those that broke up independently of this were also swept up, as most members were unable to make a living by themselves. Only the best of the independents survived, mainly by keeping a low profile. Patrols in the streets doubled, and then tripled, especially in the worse districts of the City. Wayside was razed to the ground, and warehouses built in its place.

The construction of the new docks and warehouses resulted in increased trade, and also the discovery of a new valuable in the City – spice. Smuggled in from far-off lands, it’s mild narcotic effects caused it to be heavily taxed, and also caused several new guilds of smugglers to spring up. Brought in by merchant ships or pirate ships, the spice was hidden and sold by agents to those with enough money to buy it. The City Watch made several attempts to prevent the traffic in spice, but these failed as it was too easily concealed. Smugglers merely slipped it into pockets, or disguised it as normal cooking ingredients. Powerless to prevent the traffic, due to the fact that most spice is sold directly to the customers through no fence, the City Watch was forced to rely on the City Navy to catch the pirates and smugglers who bring spice into the City.

This was not as easy as anticipated. Weak and ineffectual through years of neglect, the City Navy was unable to make even token seizures of spice cargoes. When eventually one fleet was almost destroyed by several pirate ships, the City Navy gave up. The City Watch continues to make symbolic efforts to deal with the trafficking in spice, but the trade shows no signs of letting up.

The increased economic activity that accompanied the construction of the new docks and warehouses attracted many new immigrants to the City, eager for work as dockers or casual labourers. However, there is often prejudice against these new arrivals, and employers seem more willing to take on established citizens rather than new immigrants. As a result many have taken up crime as the only way to remain alive, further turning citizens against them. Street crime increased briefly, before the City Watch established a curfew, and began anti-crime sweeps to arrest people deemed criminals. Some were taken to the cells at Shoalsgate station, others to the new prisons that Truart had constructed outside the City. The prisoners are employed on the mines and few farms that are maintained there, and Truart has earned the gratitude of the people of the City by removing these ‘corruptive’ influences from the City.

Meanwhile, a new power arose in the City. Karras, at the head of the Mechanists, became one of the most powerful men in the City, rivalling even Truart in his influence. With the patronage of the nobles, Karras ensured that he occupied the position in power formerly occupied by the Hammerite High Priest. The results of this change were immediately felt by the criminal classes, such as they were after Truart’s efforts. Karras ceased all patrolling of the streets by Mechanist watchmen, leaving the task totally in the hands of the City Watch. Whether this was to avoid angering the populace, or to spare resources for his nefarious schemes it is not known.

However, the Mechanists also had another affect on crime in the City. Before even the chronic infighting that had broken up the Hammerites and led to the rise of Karras, Cragscleft had been all but abandoned due to insufficient manpower and the increased activities of the undead, possibly linked to the emergence of The Eye as a player in subsequent events. The prisoners were left to rot as most of the guards remaining headed back for the City, and the hammer-manufacturing facility left to rust. In an apparent betrayal of their beliefs, the Hammers had contracted a weapons manufacturer to produce hammers for them. Anger and indignation over this is undoubtedly one of the factors that led to the infighting within the order. The mines were abandoned to the undead, and while the prisoners rotted in their cells the infrastructure of the prison rotted too. The few Hammerites that were left attempted to continue running the prison, but their efforts failed, much to the joy of the criminal class outside of its walls.

This was the situation over the course of the events that led to the destruction of Karras. The Hammerites, and the Mechanists, no longer had the power to arrest suspected criminals on the streets, or the manpower to maintain the prison that would have housed them. Measures were taken within the prison to stay its final closure. The undead still existed within the mines, and so the staircase to them was destroyed, and the lower mines finally abandoned. All of the cellblocks but Cell Block 1 were also abandoned – some of the barred doors were rusted into their runners by this time, and had to be pounded with sledgehammers before they would open. The factory level was also abandoned, save for the aging generator there that provided what power the prison still needed.

However, with the destruction of Karras and his plans, things changed. The history of the destruction of the Mechanists and the events that followed is the subject for another thesis, but it is sufficient to say that the Order fragmented into several large sections, that each went their own way. Several riots occurred when the Builder’ Childrens’ internal mechanisms went awry, and they attacked civilians. The Hammers wisely stood aside from these riots, and began to regain their position in the City. Aided by an influx of the mechanics from the Order of the Mechanists, they were able to offer their services to maintain some of the more useful inventions of Karras, and their popularity, and size, began to rise.

The fall of the City Watch, despite the efforts of its Lieutenants, meant that the Hammerites were once again the forces of law and order in the City, and the only prison that they would use was Cragscleft. Organised crime was not given a chance to recover, and suspected criminals were swept up and transported to the renovated prison. The alterations to the prison rendered it even more secure, as one of our Order was to discover. The Hammerites restored all of the cellblocks to working order, and built a whole new level as their most secure wing. It possessed another cellblock, solitary confinement cells, an Inquisitor’s chamber, and many other rooms of nefarious purpose. The factory area was renovated to accommodate more advanced machinery for the production of the famous sledgehammers, while a graveyard was added for the presumably expected fatalities. The mines below the prison were turned into an almost impregnable fortress, capable of withstanding a long siege, and even a full-out offensive by an attacking army. Relics and valuables were moved there – supposedly even the Eye is kept there, safely locked away in a vault. The chapel there was renovated and expanded, while there are tales of a “Great Space” there that seems to have unusual significance. The Hammerites also introduced Mechanist technology to guard the mines and prison. Now the Builder’s Children patrol the areas through which Garrett once crept, and mechanical eyes and turrets guard against another such occurrence.

Thus the history of crime in the City ends at the present day. This era is not good for crime; indeed, some may say that it has been eradicated. The era of the Crime Wardens is over – very few remain – as is the era of the guilds. Very little organised crime now exists, and where it does its end seems imminent. The few criminals that are still free to practice their trade are mostly independents, the detritus of destroyed guilds or the extraordinarily proficient, who can escape the attentions of the City Watch, and find people to deal with. The exist a few weapons dealers, fences and thieves-pawns, and pawnbrokers willing to accept stolen goods, just as there are several independent thieves who are now the only thieves able to make a living. Few gambling dens or burrick tracks exist, except those owned by nobles, and even the numbers of these are declining, due to a lack of customers willing to risk being arrested there.

Street crime has almost disappeared, to the point where it is now considered safe, in all but the worst districts, to leave windows open during the night. Low-level crime, such as pick pocketing, still exists, but rarely rises to beyond the level of a nuisance. Forgers still practice their trade, but the absence of cheap metal with which to work means that the material is more expensive than the value of the coins, and so there are many who have turned to more honest trades. Brothels no longer exist as they once did, with several ‘ladies of the night’ in one building. The prostitutes earn their keep in small rooms or apartments, concealed in places such as warehouses or other large, private buildings.

Other types of crime have almost died out. Most goods now move by see, and the highwaymen either killed or forced to move elsewhere. Thieves have been killed or thrown into prison, and the few ones capable of ‘lock-pick’ jobs are forced to lie low to avoid attracting attention. Most other types have ceased to exist – the supply is there, but the demand is low, and most ‘finds’ no longer bring the amount of money they once did. Crime looks set to decline even further as the market for illegal goods is destroyed, and the means of getting those goods ended.

However, we Keepers know that the glyphs tell otherwise. Crime has always existed, and it would be a fallacy to dismiss this as the end. For crime is caused by need, desire, envy or excitement – and these will always exist.

Keeper Iacos

Thesis: ‘Crime in the City’. Keeper Library; City; Crime - 4634