The Blind Mariner

Object-117, or The Blind Mariner, is an infamous Imperial jail located in the heart of the 37th District of Capitol on Limmea.

History of the Blind Mariner

The first iteration of Object-117 was constructed in 850 AE by decree of a sevent emprial monarch – Anant Khan also known as “The Terrible”. The jail was used to detain the military defectors, disloyal noblemen and other Limmeans suspected of resisting his rule of terror. Upon entering its walls, prisoners were met by an eyeless veteran seaman—a deliberate choice.

This disabled commoner served as a symbol of blind justice, a mocking contrast to the highborn backgrounds of many inmates. Anant found perverse satisfaction in having traitors from the First Class and Nobility greeted by someone so visibly marked by hardship. Over time, the jailor gained legendary status among Limmeans, and the prison came to be known as the Blind Mariner.

The facility was closed and marked for demolition by his granddaugther Priscilla Khan, who sought to eliminate all symbols of her grandfather’s tyranny during her sweeping reform campaign. However, her plans shifted dramatically after all her heirs were assassinated by conspiring Noblemen.

Faced with personal tragedy and political unrest, Priscilla the Wise realized that sheer authority was not enough to govern the fractured Kingdom of Limmea. In response, she declared martial law, secured the Capitol through military force, and deployed her Hands of the Monarch to detain every Noble family she suspected of treason. to apprehend all Noble families that she even slightly suspected in treason.

Rather than burying the scandal with quiet executions, Priscilla made the trials a public affair. She transformed the Blind Mariner into a stage for dramatic judicial proceedings, followed by life imprisonment under harsh, punishing conditions.

This spectacle of justice resonated with the Limmean public, who viewed it as both retribution and warning. To memorialize the event and cement her authority, Priscilla did more than reopen the jail—she ordered its complete transformation into a towering monument of power, built in the style of ultra-modern Utilitarian Brutalism.

In a final twist of irony, the redesign was entrusted to Iszida Ghosh, a Noble architect already imprisoned for her role in the conspiracy. Ghosh agreed to the task after being promised that her grandchildren would be spared execution and granted honored exile.

Her resulting design was as haunting as it was brilliant: a 50-story, angular structure with no external decoration beyond sparse office windows and ventilation shafts. Inside, the building contained endless rows of windowless, suffocating cells—each one engineered to erode the sanity of its occupant.

Externally, the gray silhouette of Object-117 resembled a colossal tombstone, not only for its prisoners but also for Ghosh herself. According to rumor, she died of exhaustion shortly after completing the design. In a symbolic act, her body was interred within the jail’s foundation.

Elza spent a week detained inside the Blind Mariner. One of the most unbearable conditions she faced was the oppressive heat within the cells. Her attempts to cool her body were viewed as indecent by her jailor, Gorm. The two never reached an understanding on the matter.

The Blind Mariner Today

Under the rule of Igor Khan, the Blind Mariner still looms over the 37th District of the Capitol, a stark relic of a more brutal era. While surrounding structures have been modernized to align with the Empire’s vision of a bright and sustainable future, the jail remains untouched—a menacing monolith of dark gray concrete.

Numerous critics have submitted petitions to the court, urging for the jail to be relocated off-world and the structure demolished. They describe it as a “depressive tombstone” that “casts a shadow of past oppression over the Capitol’s beauty.” Yet all such pleas have been summarily dismissed by the Imperial Monarch.

Beyond its role as a detention facility, the Blind Mariner serves a symbolic function. It stands as a constant reminder to the citizens of Capitol—a grim monument to the fate of those who defy Imperial rule. For the loyal, it is a deterrent; for the forgotten dissidents who perished within its walls, it is their final tombstone.

Sources

Imperial Informatorium