NOTICE OF VANDALISM UPON THE STAG AND TALLOW DOOR

HEAR YE. HEAR YE.
BY ORDER OF SHERIFF KELSTER OF THE CITY WATCH
AND BY PETITION OF MORDECAI, KEEPER OF THE STAG AND TALLOW,
LET THIS BE MADE KNOWN, POSTED, AND REMEMBERED.

On the pre-dawn hour, when honest folk sleep and only rats keep counsel, there was committed upon HITCHER’S ROW an act of VANDALISM AND THREAT, bold in its insolence, foul in its intent, and cowardly in its hour.

For some unknown miscreants—small of body but swollen with wickedness—did creep to the door of THE STAG AND TALLOW, and there did smear and score upon it a FORK-SHAPED SIGN, black as soot, set like a challenge. This mark was made not as idle mischief, but as A MESSAGE: that law may be mocked, that honest trade may be frightened, and that the streets might be claimed by gutter-scum as though Grafton Notch were a kennel for wolves.

Let it be further known—lest any outsider mistake the Stag and Tallow for a common dive—that this house is A PILLAR OF HITCHER’S ROW and a necessary hearth in hard seasons. For the Stag and Tallow offers rest and verve to the city’s working men: the trappers fresh from the forest with cold in their bones and mud on their boots; the haulers and drovers who sleep little and spend their strength like coin; the cutters, skinners, and salt-men who keep trade moving when the wind turns sharp. It is a place where a man may dry his cloak, warm his hands, and drink without fear of being bled in the doorway.

Moreover, Mordecai, keeper of this fine establishment, is known to the Watch and to the clerks of account as a man who keeps his dues and pays his reckonings ON TIME. His taxes are not late. His fees are not argued. His thresholds are not left to rot, nor does paint chip from his boards. When the Watch comes calling, he answers—when a finger needs pointing, it is pointed; when trouble rises, it is cut down before it bothers our brave Watchmen, often at the expense of his own coin. Thus does the Stag and Tallow stand, not as a den of disorder, but as a REPUTABLE HOUSE, serving honest custom and keeping the Row from slipping wholly into filth.

And because a mark becomes rumor, and rumor becomes fear, and fear becomes a city that locks itself indoors and starves in the dark, the Stag and Tallow—being a house that does not suffer insult long—did not leave this provocation to fester. Mordecai ensures us that the matter was ANSWERED SWIFTLY, and the peace of Hitcher’s Row was preserved by vigilance rather than wishful prayer.

In this, the Watch commends Mordecai for his quick action, his steady eye, and his refusal to let gutter-mischief grow into open terror. For many talk of order; fewer enforce it. Mordecai is of the latter sort.

And Mordecai himself is quoted thus, for the comfort of honest folk:

“I’ve seen the sort that thinks a mark on a door makes them kings of the street. Not here. I promise that these rapscallions will not trouble Grafton Notch again.”

Moreover, it is suggested—by the nature of this mark and the timing of its placing—that this insolence may be bound to the same knot of fork-mark rapscallions lately whispered about in the city: those believed to have raised disturbance in Amicus Square, robbed Darn the Butcher of his life savings, and committed the burglary and fire at the Candlemaker’s Keep near Flitcher’s Bend just this night prior—and perhaps linked, by darker rumor, to the trouble at Ruby’s Roost this month past. The Watch does not proclaim certainty where certainty is not yet earned—yet patterns are the footprints of wolves.

LET IT THEREFORE BE PROCLAIMED:

That any person found painting, carving, smearing, or boasting of the FORK MARK shall be seized and questioned, and any who shelter such vandals shall be counted friendly to their crimes.

That householders and shopkeepers are urged to keep lamps trimmed, doors barred, and eyes sharp in the gray hours before dawn, when cowards do their bravest work.

That citizens who know the names, hiding-holes, or haunts of these fork-markers shall bring word to the Watchhouse, and shall be met with REWARD, and the city’s thanks besides.

And let all remember: a city may endure thieves, as it endures rain and rot—but it cannot endure terror dressed as a child’s game. The fork on the door is not just paint. It is an evil promise that the good fabric of our great city is also at risk of stain, and must be resisted at all costs.

POSTED THIS DAY,
beneath lamp and nail,
for the warning of the Row,
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. Below you can find the other “notices” in this series:

PROCLAMATION OF BURGLARY AND FIRE AT THE CANDLEMAKER’S KEEP

THE EASTERN BUTCHER STALL ROBBED CLEAN

NOTICE OF VAGRANT WHELPS AND MARKET MISCHIEF AT AMICUS SQUARE

NOTICE OF A WICKED AFFRAY AT RUBY’S ROOST