The Wheelhouse, Freehold of Detroit
Speramus meliora; resurget cineribus. (“We hope for better things; it will arise from the ashes.”)
- Motto of the City of Detroit
Like Rome in the depths of the Dark Ages, the city of Detroit rattles in the shell of its former glory. The city contains more uninhabited land than the entire area of the city of Boston, and nearly as much as all of Baltimore. Detroit ranks number one in unmarried births among the nation’s 50 largest cities. Nearly 70% of homicides in the Motor City (or Murder City, as it’s affectionately known by its residents) go unsolved, and corruption is endemic, from the loftiest halls of power to the lowliest union whip.
For more than half a century, the cycle of the Seasonal Courts has been broken. More like warring gangs than complimentary psychologies, the Courts have each staked out territory and pursued their separate agendas, mainly through violence and intimidation, but also through the manipulation of corrupt officials, crooked cops, and any thug who’s willing to cut a deal.
This is not the Detroit you may know. This is a cockeyed distortion, a slanderous untruth, the punchline of some bleak, cynical joke. This is the Detroit of the World of Darkness, where every cop is crooked, every bum has an angle, and the mere chance of hope is something worth killing for.
Great wheels have been set in motion. And not even the very wise know where they may take us.