the Iron Heel, Fort Sterling Speakeasy

       Through one of the Watcher's contacts working for the city officials we found a speakeasy to open up for private parties, illegal blackmarket get-togethers, and an underground dueling competition done for money to gain more respect among the people.
       For the last week the Watchers have been able to establish quite a holding in the scene among those who are street smart and have the most knowledge or contacts which will be helpful to us in the future. The hours of the establishment are from dusk till dawn and the main secret entrance is through an Inn by the name of the Iron Boot. Travelers and traders from all over Caerlon, Lymhurst, Thetford, and the residents of Fort Sterling make up the audience and most are willing to pay a pretty penny for things that cannot be found elsewhere.
       Every night for about an hour or maybe a half, a singer or bard sometimes along with a band put on quite a performance giving the attendants something to dance to or just to tap their foot along with the beat. To make sure that everyone knew of the place right away, one of the first performers was a woman stripper who had the location of a secret party painted on her belly for residents of Caerlon to recognize and hopefully attend while she sang a playful song, teasing the men to want more.

       From our island, exceptional hemp & mushrooms were harvested and transported to the speakeasy that picked up the name Iron Heel as people entering the Inn would hint at while being let in the secret bookshelf door. Hashish, illegal substances of oils and powder, pain-killing balls of tar, and potions of all different kinds were stored in secret places that would not be found even if the place were to be raided.

       During the first weekend the place was packed and the stench of puke was detected in one corner of the place for almost an hour until wiped up hurriedly by one of the staff. Shoulder to shoulder in some areas, they were packed in like too many salted dried fish in the same canister. Some mysterious fellows taking up one of the tables played cards for many hours into the night, ignoring the performance, and setting up many coded messages for our bartender and waitress to pick up on. They ended up being city officials and without saying anything, we knew that they needed their cut, if we were to stay in business, so without a single word spoken, a bag of coins had been placed on the table for them as they were paying for their last round of drinks.

       The Watcher who had made it out of jail from the unsuccessful encounter was able to attend on the busiest night and near the end of it all the person responsible for his being locked up was sighted and he followed him into the night as misty cobblestone streets under a full moon lit his path. Without speaking or possibly heard at all, his knife went into the back of the Cocky man as he fell to the ground, dagger left in his back, as a puddle of blood collected beneath him.
       The next day the dagger was identified by someone as a message from the Watchers as the bone handle with runes from a neighboring Tribe was recognized, being the same one with the problem of those who have refused to release the chickens from their cages or discuss the matter with us further.

       The man responsible for this murder was sent to see our Crone, Goth Chick, and he was banished to the Heavens Above to avoid his linking our guild with the scene of the crime. That did not stop some city officials from giving us a suspicious eye from time to time and just to be on the safe side, almost all of them had been given pouches of coins as a gift to keep their mouth shut about it. The House of the Cock within Fort Sterling ignored the warnings and not only upgraded their guards and staff, but started to leave the corpses of chickens or a stench of thrown rotten eggs at the Iron Boot as an answer.
       Many new Watchers had joined the cause from the Crossroads and especially Mountain Cross. The Oracle has asked that each and every one be walked through a vision quest for her to try and determine their future or any signs to be aware of regarding their future as a Watcher. This has resulted in some respectfully removed from the guild and given payment of a season for free as to not stir any unwanted hatred for the rejection.
       A new voice for the guild is needed as the previous one mysteriously disappeared out of nowhere so Goth Chick decided to go and recruit more helpers from the Mountain Cross area and bring them back to the Iron Heel with some help from local royalty to award them handsomely with payments for completing tasks for the guild. Each new member was also brought to the island where they were able to choose a residence and settle in with some cheap furniture, tent, laborers, and bedroll to get started. Fruit trees and gardens, fish aplenty, and big fire-pits along with wells of fresh water decorated each residence. Some artists from Lymhurst who had recently joined the guild spent many days working on intricate designs in the sidewalks or roads found on our island.
       In every Royal City, the Watchers of the Heavens Above, found more recruits into the guild and wagons trains with oxen all over started to pack things and prepare for the journey to Fort Sterling.
       On the second weekend, after many complaints from the House of the Cock regarding the Speakeasy, under cloak and a clever disguise, someone of their House was able to make it in our front doors. Once in, the fellow did not bother to order drinks, appreciate the entertainment, or anything... but he was quick to find the nearest worker and threaten to shut the place down. He was stopped on the way out but no one wanted to become violent with him so he was let go of and he left the place, with a nasty spit on the ground.
        Pretty soon later, he came back with some guards of Fort Sterling, obviously intending on shutting down our establishment. Once inside, the Inn-keeper led them down into the place and all of the audience was asked to leave. When everyone was gone, the Watchers had no intention of cooperating, and they were led to the treasury as crossbows were fired and swords clashed until every last one of them fell to the ground. Those who were not killed, were dumped out into the streets, and those who were, had been transported far away in a wagon to a nearby spot in the forest, known to be filled with ferocious monsters. The man who brought the trouble onto himself was tied up in our wine cellar, and for a few days, we fed him and tried to talk some sense into the man who did nothing but spit, stay silent, or threaten. His keys to his residence were taken and used well past midnight to ensure not being detected and we searched for signs or helpful hints all over his place for something to help us in our efforts to put a stop to his House forever. Found was a calendar for this month marked with a recent trip to Caerlon among many other traders for transporting their most prized merchandise under some guards for hire.

       The next day, one of the Watchers went undercover and offered his sword for hire to the House as an escort and was hired on without much more pay than what a stable boy would get. Before joining them they had came up with code and sign language to use for our ambushing their house on the road and ending them once and for all.

       Back in Mountain Cross, some of our new-comers had joined our cause and found some hints of cannibals found nearby. Some local wizards were able to create a magical portal leading directly to them and those Watchers were able to prove their loyalty to our guild as yet another Tribe ate the dust instead of another person.

       Riding donkeys the new-comers were able to upgrade their gear and mount, looking a bit more respectable and established to be able to represent our guild. They were able to assist with some more finds of cannibals out in the wild and some camps of them had been visited to be taken out by us the instant they refused to welcome us and talk about it.

       One of the members of the Vampire Cult, now known as Fang according to our sources, followed some of us out into the wild and summoned rocks to walk upright as if they were a person as they attacked, nearly knocking out someone in their wake. The man was able to flee into the night leaving us very concerned.