Here are two sample streets from the Hex Gazetteer I’m working on, and the factions associated with them. Every street in Hex is receiving similar treatment.
Tailfeather Alley
Colourful silks flutter in the greasy breeze, courtesy of the costermongers hawking rags and stolen clothes along the alley’s length. Some strangely tattooed, malformed people mingle with the crowds.
Encounter: A thrashing, skinless, tentacular blob – a Cancroid – bursts forth from the Anathemist Commune and rampages towards the party, gibbering in Aklo and leaving a trail of sizzling, poisonous blood. 1d4 Anathemists emerge after it.
Anathemist Commune: A small commune of Anathemists – warlocks dedicated to summoning and conversing with the denizens of the surreal dimension of Anathema – operates on Tailfeather Alley: about a dozen men, women, and epicenes of various species, elaborately tattooed, many with tendrils in places of arms, blooms of additional eyes along the sides of their heads, polypous growths, masses of waving cilia radiating from their backs, and other mutations, the result of exposure to the reality-warping energies of Anathema. Their rundown commune is covered in arcane graffiti; the windows display weird lights during the night. The leader of the commune is Zachariah Finch, a wild-eyed man with a mass of tiny crab-pincers sprouting from his face like a chitinous goatee.
Mister Pincushion’s Petticoats and Pantaloons: The curious specimen of the Fair Folk known as Mister Pincushion has claimed this shop as his own. An almost perfectly spherical elf whose body is pierced with thousands of tiny pins, whose fingernails are needles, and whose hair is an endlessly growing mane of yarn and other fibres, which he can grow in a multitude of colours, this mincing, surprisingly dextrous creature makes garments in this sprawling tailor’s shop, often with Faerie glamers woven into them, unbeknownst to the purchaser. The garments are of decent quality but bizarre cut; Mister Pincushion seems relatively unconcerned with wealth, and appears to be running the shop as part of a kind of working vacation from Elfhame “for a century or two.” Rumour has that he was banished by Queen Mab for unspecified indecencies. When not in his shop he can sometimes be found drinking at The Lady with the Bloodstained Fan on Carrion Street.
Tailfather Fops’ Hideout: The ostentatious hideout of the Tailfather Fops can be found here – a shabby but well-decorated rookery where the louche decadents of the Fops lounge about smoking black cigarillos and swilling absinthe between robberies. They are often seen strolling down to Heartbreak Street with full purses and swaggering strides. Their rookery itself is adorned with all manner of stolen finery, jewels, fine clothes, and other gewgaws. In the basement is a secret entrance to the sewers which the Fops use to come and go discretely.
Widdershins Way
Illicit apothecaries, dodgy alchemist’s shops, unlicensed surgeries, and similar establishments advertise with grotty wooden signs and tinted lamps shaped like hearts, livers, brains, and other organs, presumably to indicate specializations. Members of the terrifying surgeons-cum-street-warriors known as the Bonesaw Boys hang about here, selling illegally obtained humanoid limbs and organs.
Encounter: Trapped cobblestones (see Phenomena) often protect this street from the Watch and other non-thieves. There is a 50% chance of encountering 2d6 Bonesaw Boys who may menace the party demanding money, blood, or body parts.
The Mists of Memory: A sign out front of this shop has a list of prices: “Minor Memory Modification – 50 guineas,” “Temporary Amnesia – 100 guineas,” “Mind Wipe – 200 guineas,” and the like. In the window are displayed a whole series of model heads like those of mannequins, painted with phrenological diagrams. A humming human woman with a severe grey bun, Griselda Flex, is the proprietor of the shop; its interior is filled with charts and models both mundane and magical, all of brains, skulls, and heads from a wide variety of species, including all the sentient species of Hex. She can cast Modify Memory and variants of the spell for the prices advertised outside.
Dr. Murgatroyd’s Cures & Curses: Judging from the somewhat anguished noises emanating from within, this decrepit medical establishment is not quite up to the standards of the physicians in Caulchurch or Ambery. Inside is a dirty waiting room with incredibly gruesome and dubiously accurate anatomical dolls that can be disassembled and reassembled. Dr. Murgatroyd himself is here at all times of the day and night – a gnome man with tinted glasses, generally clad in a soaking crimson coat and carrying a serrated saw, clockwork drill, or some similarly macabre medical instrument.
Dr. Murgatroyd sells discount Potions of Healing (Common) for 40 gp each, though in addition to healing 2d4+2 hit points they have a 50% chance of having a bizarre side effect. Roll 1d6: (1) begin growing a third arm with a mouth on its palm that speaks in an uncanny version of your voice – when fully formed, the arm detaches, dealing 1 damage, and goes its own way; (2) your stomach murmurs in dead languages for 24 hours, creating disadvantage on Stealth checks; (3) you are blinded for 24 hours but experience bizarre visions of what may be the distant future, gaining Inspiration; (4) every orifice begins bleeding slowly, dealing 1 hit point of damage per hour for the next 1d20 hours; (5) you begin puking torrents of slippery fish (treat as the Grease spell) for one minute; (6) your teeth have turned to gold, permanently – each is worth 5gp if extracted, but eating can be a bit tricky.
Queen’s Crimson: This large reagent shop is often visited by reputable mages throughout Hex, albeit in magical disguise. It openly sells many prohibited alchemical reagents such as human kidneys, dagonian eggs, waspkin wings, vampire blood, and gorgongas. There are even globules containing captive puddleweirds, which can be hurled like living grenades. The proprietress is Angelique Duvide, a tall, skeleton-thin changeling woman with a too-wide smile and eyes that don’t ever seem to blink.
The Tailfeather Fops
Perhaps the most ridiculous gang in Corvid Commons, the Tailfather Fops are a collection of well-dressed footpads with pretensions of sophistication. An independent gang with ties to the Ravenswing Thieves’ Guild, they nonetheless pay a cut of their income to the Crowsbeak Thieves’ Guild to continue operating. They specialize in robbing shops in richer parts of town, blending in with the well-dressed crowds and artfully stuffing goods into the many pockets of their elaborate frock coats. In other instances they have been known to hold up carriages and wagons, adorning their faces with masks of porcelain or papier-mâché. The Fops – led by the sighing philosopher-thief Theophilus Grubby-Hook – are sworn enemies of the Stench a few streets over, and their bloody skirmishes have interrupted many a night’s sleep.
The Bonesaw Boys
Clad in the beaked masks and antique robes of old-fashioned plague doctors and wielding an eclectic range of repurposed medical equipment, the vicious Bonesaw Boys are brutal cutthroats sworn to the Crowsbeak Thieves’ Guild. They operate throughout the Commons and surrounding districts, ambushing lone pedestrians at night and harvesting their organs, which they sell to Dr. Murgatroyd on Widdershins Way, or to unlicensed reanimators like the Marionettist. The leader of the Bonesaw Boys is a sentient tumour known as the Goiter, excised after it kills its previous host, inevitably some wretched sod who owed the Boys money, and forcibly implanted into a fresh victim. Apart from the Bloodworms they are the most feared of the Crowsbeak vassal-gangs, though they prefer to take their victims alive, for experimentation. Their hideout is off Cruel Claw Alley.
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