In the labyrinthine alleyways and shadowed underbellies of Edenlon, away from the glittering spires and industrious hum, thrive the gangs. These are not merely bands of common thugs, but intricate webs of hardened individuals, forged in the city’s unforgiving crucible. Some are remnants of the Long War’s displaced, finding purpose and family in the brutal hierarchy of the streets. Others are born of desperation, seeking crumbs from the wealthy’s table through illicit means, from petty theft to sophisticated schemes involving smuggled aether components or illicit information.
Rebecca the “Widow”
Mancha the “Empusa”
Jerba the “Blink”
Their territories are marked by crude symbols on crumbling walls, their codes enforced with swift, uncompromising violence. The air here hangs heavy with the scent of stale ale, illicit smoke, and the faint metallic tang of desperation. They move like shadows, their faces often obscured by wide-brimmed hats or grimy scarves, their eyes sharp and wary. They are the inverse reflection of Edenlon’s grand aspirations, a constant reminder of the city’s hidden depths and the struggles of those left behind by its relentless march forward. Yet, even in their lawlessness, there is a twisted sense of order, a dark, pulsing rhythm that adds another, grittier layer to the city’s complex song.
Famous Gangs
In the twilight zones between the bustling merchant thoroughfares and the shadowed industrial alleys, stride Edenlon’s street toughs. Unlike the truly destitute, their coats are not tattered, nor their boots worn thin. Their attire, though functional and often dark, hints at ill-gotten gains – a flash of unearned brass, a surprisingly well-kept leather vest, or a freshly sharpened blade tucked into a sturdy belt. They are the minor lords of their chosen blocks, their presence a silent, predatory hum in the din of the city. Their eyes, sharp and calculating, scan for weakness, for opportunity, for any chance to assert their rough authority. They might not starve, but their hunger is for control, for fear, for the illicit currency of the streets where laws are bent, and justice is swiftly, brutally self-administered.
