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Dedicated to, and with the gracious patronage of, His Royal Majesty King Andrik III and the Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska




The judge looms over the convicted,
A wig of steel sat upon his solemn brow.
He's ready to sentence, unrestricted.
The criminal, she cowers in a bow.


There's no jury, no risk of dissent.
Defendants or subpoenas, a petition,
The judge does not care, he does not relent.
The judge demands complete submission.


The small child, she cries, her eyes bleed tears.
This is not a satisfactory defence.
Her innocence and her eleven years
Will not save her. Justice will now commence.


The judge raises high his station's sign - 
The sword, where legitimacy arises.
Between law and crime there's no real line;
Death is a sentence that fits all sizes.




Written by the royal poet

Dietrich van Jungingen

-Writer and Philosopher-





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“It is very nice for the Haense poet to dedicate a poem to me” says Godric

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