The Abyssal Keep

The Abyssal Keep, a foreboding prison located on the Bastille Key , is designed to contain a myriad of criminals, from seafaring smugglers attempting to sneak illicit goods into the radiant city to merciless murderers wielding devastating magic. This colossal penal institution is renowned as one of the most extensive on the continent, providing a secure holding for those offenders deemed too dangerous for other cities' jails. The citizens of Vallaki , for the most part, tread a straight path, understanding the dire consequences of transgressing the law. They are well-aware that deception offers no refuge in the face of their city's unyielding justice, and the penalties for unlawful acts are decidedly severe. This knowledge, however, was not always in the possession of outsiders who ventured into the city, with dreams of illegal fortunes only to be met by the unyielding hand of justice.
The strategic construction of the Abyssal Keep on the Bastille Key, an island mainly used as a thoroughfare for ship cargo inspection, offered a clever solution. Any wanted criminals foolish enough to step foot on the island would be swiftly apprehended with little resistance. Moreover, the island's central location within the vast river of the Moryanne made any aquatic escape attempts a daunting, if not fatal, endeavor. Though said to be an inescapable penitentiary, many in the city-state know the story of one particularly daring getaway attempt, involving a ship brazenly crashing through the prison walls to liberate an inmate. In the aftermath of this audacious act, the docks were fortified with stone and steel beams to deter any future attempts at a similar nature.

Prison Structure

The Abyssal Keep operates under the joint governance of both church and state. Complementing their efforts, a variety of constructs provided by the city patrol the corridors to maintain order. Notably, the Razorblade Bitzers, efficient at tidying up the inevitable messes in such a volatile environment, and older versions of Manikin , less versatile versions of the constructs which are devoid of empathy and free will. Such mechanical measures were deemed necessary since flesh can be charmed or coerced, unlike the strength and certainty of steel.

The Abyssal Keep is separated into three distinct levels: the Upper Grounds, the Sea Level, and the Silent Depths. Each level is allocated to prisoners based on their perceived danger level and the severity of their sentence.

The Upper Grounds

The Upper Grounds manages its inmates with the most humane treatment. This level is reserved for those serving time for minor infractions or those who have demonstrated good behavior. Here, living, breathing guards outnumber the constructs, and prisoners are allowed a degree of freedom to converse, eat, pray, and enjoy some semblance of privacy. From their cells, they can glimpse the cityscape and savor the river's gentle breeze. Inhabitants of the Upper Grounds know all too well the importance of maintaining good behavior to avoid demotion to the lower floors.

The Sea Level

Patrolled by a larger number of mechanical guards and is generally more populated. It is the designated location for most magic users, barring those exhibiting particularly cruel behavior, who are sent to the Silent Depths. Prisoners here have less leisure time and are instead further required to contribute to the city's economy through various tasks, a practice that has increased since the onset of the scourge as Vallaki's economy has faced mounting pressure.

The Silent Depths

The Silent Depths, an area of magical darkness and silence, is the final destination for the most dangerous inmates, particularly spellcasters. Here, each prisoner is assigned a personal guard who never leaves their side, destroying any semblance of privacy or humane treatment. Deemed too perilous for labor, these prisoners remain in solitary confinement, cut off from the outside world, condemned to wrestle with their mind. The Depths are also used as a punitive place for those from higher floors who disrupt the prison's order, a prospect that effectively deters misbehavior among the prisoners. Very few are banished to this abyss, but of those who are, almost none emerge with their sanity intact. Many succumb to the dire conditions, the crippling loneliness, the insidious madness, or the ruthless guards.
Whispers circulate among long-term prisoners of a clandestine deal offered by certain high-ranking members of society: an exchange of their bodies for scientific research in return for a reduced sentence. These rumors are spoken in hushed tones, and only a select few are privy to their truth.

Labor

The Abyssal Keep, though a public building, puts its prisoners to work —both to pay for the maintenance costs of the prison, and to bolster Vallaki's commerce. The economic contribution of the penitentiary lies within its labor-intensive assembly lines, where prisoners churn out an array of goods. From textiles to simple machinery and handicrafts, these workshops transform raw materials into valuable commodities, supporting the city's industrial demands. In the days before the Scourge and the city's lockdown, shipyards within the prison complex bustled with activity. Prisoners, under the watchful eyes of seasoned mariners, worked diligently, repairing and maintaining various ship components and basic mechanical elements. This symbiotic relationship not only kept the city's naval fleet in shipshape condition but also offered prisoners a chance to learn valuable skills. However, since the city these shipyards have fallen eerily silent.
Yet, the prison's fisheries have remained active. Here, the chained inmates, armed with nets and hooks, grapple with the aquatic denizens of the Maryanne River. Once caught, the fish are cleaned, cured, and those who aren't set aside for the prisoners meals are prepared for distribution throughout the city.

Arcane Criminals

The average magical aptitude among the populace of Vallaki is relatively subdued, adepts of magic are a rare breed to begin with, and most arcane practitioners do not surpass the second circle of magic, and divine casters the third, barring a handful of exceptional individuals. This reality breeds a harshly punitive justice system in Vallaki when it comes to magical misconduct, as methods to handle such powers are fairly limited. The standard procedure involves all tools of magic —spell books, holy or arcane focuses, and spell components— which are confiscated to obstruct the use of spells with material components.
Such a procedure can become increasingly punitive: if an individual possessing formidable magical abilities commits a crime involving murder, or endeavors to break free from incarceration, or succeeds in doing so only to be recaptured, they shall face a magnified sentence. The new punishment is ruthless, involving severing the offender's tongue to prevent the utterance of verbal spell components. The now-muted spellcasters are then exiled to the most secure depths of the prison, where surveillance is heightened, and guards patrol in greater numbers.
Upon the completion of their sentences, the tongueless offenders are scheduled to meet the highest echelons of clergy, those few with the ability to regenerate mutilated flesh and restore severed limbs.