|"I saw it! Ask anyone! ...except her. Don't ask her."
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"Hell's client-state. Be wary. Their laws are not the laws of Man or Nature."
"Factory-engines roar like false lions. Blood thunders in the dock-pipes. Crimson lightning skitters across the deck, leaps to the rail, coils there like a cat. The city is reflected in glassy-calm harbour water: the citizens there have the heads of dogs and serpents."
"Hell has brought freedom to the Iron Republic: freedom from all laws, even those of nature."
The Iron Republic is a chaotic colony of Hell.
Who Needs Gravity?
The devils decided to experiment a bit, leaving the Republic permanently free of tyrants... and laws. All laws and tyrants. Including those humans previously thought were impossible to repeal, such as gravity. Visitors often stay until numbers stop working, or they will at least be subjected to constantly shifting norms. The laws change every day, with no rhyme or reason (except possibly protesters advocating a change to something more convenient, which is known to work on occasion). Due to the obvious lawlessness, the Republic is often considered a haven for anarchists and freedom fighters alike. As for the residents, they're often sent to work in the factories, where accidents are frequent and often result in liquefaction.
Today in the Iron Republic...
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...the rain is finally here! Oh how it beats down, relentless and choking, on your coat, your hat, your skin, your face; you can barely say a word without catching a mouthful of the stuff. This is not like the rain of the surface, nor that of Fallen London. This the purest form of precipitation; this... is rain. And it hurts. As you take shelter under a tarp, you ask a man if it ever rained small, domestic animals. He laughs, his face the shape of an inbred donkey. "That was last week's rain, newcomer - next week we're getting weasels and bats!"