THE EASTERN BUTCHER STALL ROBBED CLEAN

HEAR YE. HEAR YE.
BY ORDER OF SHERIFF KELSTER OF THE CITY WATCH
AND BY PETITION OF THE HONEST VENDORS OF AMICUS SQUARE,
LET THIS BE MADE KNOWN, POSTED, AND REMEMBERED.

On the morn last past, beneath fair light and lawful trade, there was committed within AMICUS SQUARE a theft so brazen, so calculated, and so cruel in its execution that even the most hard-faced merchants of the Gutters did blanch and shake their heads in disbelief.

For DARN THE BUTCHER, known to all by his cleaver-hand and his limp leg, a man who has stood at the eastern flank of the Square for years uncounted—salt in his beard, blood in his apron, prime meat on his hooks—has been ROBBED OF HIS LIFE SAVINGS, taken from under his very table with his cleaver within reach—like a bone stolen from a dog that yet has teeth.

Let it be understood: this was no petty lifting of crust or turnip. This was not hunger’s desperation. This was PREDATION of the lame.

It is sworn by witnesses that a tumult was raised with craft: a quarrel shouted loud enough to turn heads and draw the curious; a foul mess thrown where it would offend pride and raise argument amongst neighbors; and in the confusion—while honest folk gaped and argued—an unseen hand slipped beneath Darn’s stall and stole a GLASS JUG FULL OF COIN, sealed in wax, heavy with silver gathered over many years.

It is further sworn—by Darn himself—that as the thief drew back from beneath the table, he did catch sight of her: a small slip of a girl, rag-clad, hood up though the day was fair; hair dark and wild at the edges, face smeared with grime, and eyes too sharp for her size—not the vacant stare of a beggar, but the quick look of a practiced cutpurse. She hugged the jug to her ribs and vanished into the press like smoke.

The jug in question was no common till. It was said—by Darn’s own boasting mouth, now stopped with grief—that the coins within were his RETIREMENT FUND, meant to buy him rest from the block, a warm room, and a stool by the fire when his bad leg finally failed him.

Now he shall have no stool, nor rest, nor fire—only many more years at the chopping table, and the bitter truth that the city eats its own.

And to add insult to injury, the thief did not merely lift the jug and flee like a rat. Nay—this gang-work was so close-run that Darn’s own cleaver, jostled by his movement, did tip and strike stone where a body had stood a heartbeat earlier—cracking the blade and further crippling Darn’s honest trade. Thus do we see plainly the sort of wickedness among us: children and vagrants who play near knives and laugh at death, and who would gladly see a man ruined if it bought them unearned coin in hand.

When Darn did spy the theft—too late—he cried out “THIEF! THIEF!” with such rage that the Square rang. He attempted pursuit, but his poor leg betrayed him in the slick filth of offal and refuse, and he fell hard, to the laughter of the very muck-born he chased. It is further reported, in the manner of the desperate, he even cast his shoe after the fleeing culprits, to no avail.

Now Darn stands ruined—his jug gone, his pride broken, his savings scattered into the hands of vermin who know neither mercy nor honest labor and will likely feed the proprietors of bitter vice rather than Grafton Notch’s honest folk.

LET IT THEREFORE BE PROCLAIMED:

1. That the Watch takes especial interest in this theft, not for love of butchers, but because such a haul speaks of a new GANG growing bold—one that scouts marks, sets diversions, and strikes with practice.
2. That all vendors are urged to keep coin not in jars, not under tables, not in obvious hiding, but upon the person or in lock-box, and to employ a watcher—be it dog, kin, or hired youth—lest they too be made a lesson.
3. That any citizen who witnessed three vagrant girls acting in concert—one raising a quarrel, one spoiling goods, and one slipping low and quick—shall report at once to the Watchhouse, and shall be rewarded with coin and the Sheriff’s favor.
4. And because theft of SAVED COIN is theft of a man’s last years, let it be known that such offenders shall be punished not as common snatchers, but as WRECKERS OF HONEST FUTURES, and shall be subject to the following corrections:

I. FOR THE FIRST TAKING (THEFT PROVEN)

• THE STOCKS from sun-high until the evening bell, set in public view,
• thereafter ONE FULL MONTH OF HARD LABOR in the Gutters and market lanes—hauling refuse, scraping drains, and turning offal—on bread and water,
• and A BRANDING of the letter “T” (mark of THIEF) set upon the offender’s forehead, that merchants may know them at a glance.

II. FOR THE SECOND TAKING (OR RETURN AFTER THE FIRST MARK)

• LOSS OF A HAND, taken as forfeit for the hand that steals,
• and BANISHMENT BEYOND THE WALLS, driven out at dawn with no right of return.

III. FOR THE THIRD TAKING (OR ANY WHO RETURN AFTER BANISHMENT)

• DEATH, carried out in public, that the city may be warned and the markets kept in peace.

And let it be stated plainly: those who steal in packs shall be punished in packs—for an oath in crime becomes a binding in punishment. If one hand takes the coin, then all hands that ran beside it shall answer: the planner, the lookout, the brawler, and the runner alike. Let no thief hide behind “I only watched” or “I only shouted”—the Watch knows the truth of wolves: they do not hunt alone, and so they shall not suffer alone.

POSTED THIS DAY,
beneath lamp and nail,
for the warning of the square,
and the discouragement of wickedness.

*If you like this tale, you will surely enjoy Jezelle: Thief of Forks, available for pre-order now, releasing April 4, 2026.