Friday, December 13, 2019

d100 Wizard Gangsters

You might recall that a year and a half ago, I made a post on Wizard Gangs. Well, finally, here's a follow up with some actual gang members that's been sitting on the cloud since then. Five gangsters times 20 gangs equals a d100 table.

Slight change, though. The Wandmaker's Union, George the Cripple's Gang, and the Bookprinter's Cartel are undergoing a merger to form the Woodworker's Alliance. Two of those are being replaced with The Fire Brigade and the Sorority of the Cell.

Third Eyes
Kilo of Titanback
Constantly busy-ing about, eyes darting like pinballs. Antler-headdress holds aloft various lottery or racing tickets. Hates being touched.
Lucky Carl 
Toga made of peacock feathers. Pointed shoes. Halfling. Reality bends over backwards to give him good luck. Takes extreme risks and freely berates the powerful.
Goom of Heraldhope
4ft tall ridiculously bejeweled hat and overweight. Carted about on a Floating Disk like Jabba the Hut. Knows prophecy, but never tells anyone the exact truth.
Slonar the Serendipitous
Pretends to be a talking marble statue. He would be a Bernini masterpiece. Apt at voice-throwing and standing very still. Only moves when people aren’t looking.
Can foresee with perfect clarity only unimportant things in the future (i.e. what you’ll have for lunch tomorrow). Size-too-small fez, crooked teeth, and a big messy beard.
Transmutation Mafia
Jimmy Whispers
Sells broken ‘gold’ watches out of holed-jacket. Wrings hands constantly. Assumes everyone who isn’t buying a watch is an undercover cop.
Garson Wells
“Hey, kid… You want knives for hands? What kid your age doesn’t want knives for hands?” His hands are, indeed, made of switchblades. Worst. Handshake. Ever.
Marceline Wineblud
Gradually transmuted her blood into wine. High functioning alcoholic alemental. Sporadically cuts her wrists to drink from the wounds. Wine-colored robes.
Turned skin to aluminum. Think Iron Man, but far lighter and much less durable. Bears a thousand tacky scratches that make him look like cheap used pewter silverware. Can’t bend at the waist anymore. Very insecure.
‘Gene’ Winnie
Gives out money like candy - all of it fake. Throws it into crowded streets, hands it to every beggar and every person she meets. Finds it hilarious that they’ll discover it’s just pocket lint. Big billowy robes and a wide hat.
Woodworker’s Alliance
Dorothee Blake
Ex-Librarian, present mercenary, tracker for the Cartel. Looks like any librarian you’d ever see: covered in blood and occult symbols, reeking of existential dread, carrying a portable card catalog that could cut stone and a lethal assortment of pens.
‘Big Fist’ Nob
Unassuming skinny guy with no arms and no shirt, but a ton of bruises. Conjures huge telekinetic hands by headbanging and dance. Big fighter on the circuit. His headbutt has ended many careers. Big attitude.
Mariah the Magic Missile
How many Magic Missile wands is too many? Mariah knows. Apparently it’s not 26. Wands strapped to limbs. Wands stuffed in pockets. Wands feathering her hat. Little wands for dentures. Can fire wands akimbo.
Lenny Scabstab
How many scabs has Lenny stabbed? Is it one for each facial scar? One for each freckle? One for each mole? Each broken tooth? Each pound in excess of 200? In any case, it’s a lot. He’s stabbed a lot of people.
Killer Whale
Urban hermit turned hitman for the Woodworkers. Lurks around the docks. Springs from still waters to gobble up trespassers and thieves. Said to have a razor-toothed mouth that runs from head to hip.
Black Magic Fraternity
Mr. Wight
Parabiotic shrivelled geriatric man riding surgically attached back to back with a young thrall. Newer Brothers take turns supporting him as ritual initiation. Tubes of blood and less pleasant liquids run between them. Talks in whispers. Fingernails like soft daggers. Insists he shall live forever!
Quon Anon
You remember talking to him. You remember what he did. You can’t, however, remember what he looked like. No defining features. Well, except maybe one. He was tall...
Brother Toad
Million yard stare. Sees things. Too many things. Incapable of noticing the obvious and not noticing the intractably subtle: the taste of air when someone enters the room, the dances of the ghosts when the sun goes down, the empty spaces between words rather than the words themselves.
Chancy Grace
Speaker for The Unquenchable One. Nobody is sure who or what this is, what it stands for, or what it’s capable of, but he insists you talk to him, not Chancy. Those who talk directly addressing Chancy start to suffer incurable thirst.
The Imperishable Steward
His strong Right Hand gives temporary life. His withered Left Hand taketh it away. “Are you a king?”, he asks, to make mental note. Sleeps upon a poor-man’s throne.
Rooftop Dueling Federation
Grom Morcock
Rugged revolutionary dresses like a poet and talks like one, too. Pontificates like a brimstone preacher. Trains to quicken spell motions atop town square rooftops at noon daily. Wanted for sedition.
Ludy Shoe
Built like a panda bear. Pretty chill guy, on the rooftop and out. Buys folks drinks after their first and last fights. Trains by hurling himself off of consecutively taller buildings to resist the impact. Can survive a five story fall now without injury. Uninterruptible spellcasting.
‘Hard Knock’ Patrick
Seeker of extremes. Trains by exposing himself to increasingly dangerous amounts of fire, cold, electricity, sound, poison, and acid. Body shaped like a solid brick. Bald. Can’t grow eyebrows anymore.
The Inescapable Esotericist
Expert of weird magic fighting styles. Counts on confusing and disarming opponents with esoteric magic. Tailor by trade. Wears fancy colorful robes. Will pay in serious favors (never money) to anyone who can get her new weird magic so she can weaponize it.
Sasha Cloverfield
Skilled warlock. Juggles pacts with a half dozen extra dimensional creatures. Hides horns under fancy hats. Has her body tactically possessed during fights. Control issues with rage or depression. Possessor of ill-gotten wealth.
Imagine a person had every elective plastic surgery possible and they all went wrong. Hangs out in everyday stores and likes to Charm people into conversations about his ‘good looks’. If he ever got in a fight, he would shatter like a porcelain pot.
Spends all day casting Suggestion on women his age so they can mother him. Makes ‘em do his laundry, clean his apartment, do the dishes, listen to him talk about his coin collection. Insufferable to be around every moment of the day, and completely incapable of performing basic necessities.
Minnie & Molly
Telepathically-linked twins. Finish each other’s sentences. They like to scope out solo rich men at upscale bars and rob them blind. Skilled at memory erasure and negotiating deals with the bar staff so they don’t narc on their gig. Always insist on equal cuts all around.
The Freeze
White-gloved Hold Person specialist. Never works without help. Never takes the initial risk. Bald-headed psychopomp takes great pleasure in paralytic magic. Demeanor of a serial killer with no friends nor family.
‘Confessor’ Mandrake
“Tell me, friend, what are you hiding from me?” An unassuming older man of a priestly demeanor and a snake’s cold heart. Master of a thousand ways to get someone talking. Pretends to be inept at fighting. Feigns weakness, particularly to the authorities.
Nightmares Steed Club
Mikey the Streak
Built like a pillbox. Has an addictive need for speed. Acceleration junkie with a penchant for gravity spells. Thinks if he goes fast enough he’ll burst through the veil into the next dimension.
Cosplays the grim reaper. Pilots a bitchin’ chariot pulled by four nightmares fueled by th drug-infused dreams of captive junkies strapped to the wheels. Has a semi-permeable bad trip quality to their existence.
B.F. Guy
B.F. stands for Big Freakin’. The Wizard of GAINS conjures the speediest horseless wagon this side of the Styx. Like riding on the world’s most dangerous roller coaster with a bell boy from hell.
Lil’ Miss
Lil’ Miss Lylin wanted a pony for her 11th birthday. Her parents wouldn’t have it. So, she made a pact with a demon. Now she has a pony. It ate her parents, it ate her competition, and it will eat you. Don’t mess with her, or Sugar Song.
Fareye the Blackguard
Ex-paladin wizard with an obsession with all things metal and sharp. Wields spike-covered chains and sharpened gauntlets like they’re going out of style. Licks the blood of enemies off barbed wire clubs and spiked boots. Doesn’t give two shits.
Fourteen and Five-Eights Street
Loyd the Voyd 
Keeps a star-studded cloak close to the chest. Not a hair on his body. Eyes are swirling black vortexes. Under that cloak is the vacuum of space. Talks like a wind down an empty alley - all high pitched whistle and rasp.
Betty with the Deep Pockets
Trench coach, shifty eyes. “Gotta watch out for those 4th dimensional shamblers… They can be anywhere and everywhere!” Pockets so deep you could fall in and never be found.
Betty with the Mirror
Never looks at anyone directly. Always reflected through a hand mirror. Stylish and well-groomed. The reflection seems to have a mind of its own.
The Tall Hatter
Real short guy with a stubby chin. Wears a stack of hats two meters high. Bowlers, boaters, tops, cowboys, tricorns, piths, panamas, buckets, trilbies, hombergs, boonies, pork pies, fedoras, ushankas, and a single red fez at the bottom. Each one goes somewhere. Except the fez. That’s just a normal hat.
Broth the Sacker
Tall burly guy, bare arms with muscles like rebar and a big bird’s nest beard. Carries a bunch of burlap sacks for people-snatching. Put ‘em in the sack and they’re gone - fallen to who-knows-where like a reverse rabbit pull.
Sorry Steeve
The Most Average Man. Compulsively apologizes.
Sadistic Steeve
The Most Average Man. Carries a bull whip. Loves inflicting pain.
Starved Steeve
The Most Average Man. Had his stomach cursed, so he vomits up most of his food.
Sad Steeve
The Most Average Man. Gets picked on by the other Steeves so he’s depressed and ripe for betrayal.
Scarred Steeve
The Most Average Man. Has scar on left eye.
The Good Boyz
Giant Hagrid-like fellow!... Itty-bitty chihuahua. Absolutely vicious in dog form, completely cowardly and meek while un-polymorphed. Definitely a biter.
Madame Fluffybutt
Pompous cigarette-smoking middle aged lady turned pompous cigarette-smoking corgi. Likes excessively feathered hats and complaining about ‘the serfs’. Has two hat collections: for humans and for corgis.
Damien Knight
Method actor. Completely assumes the role of ‘beloved cute dog that you must painfully put down’. Frequently acts death scenes gratuitously.
Actually a completely normal greyhound. All the other gang members thinks he’s just really into his role. The real Donner got sick of his role and replaced himself with a real greyhound years ago.
Gangly college dropout who smells like turd turned full-time vicious, muscly pitbull. Picks fights, culls the weak or vulnerable, would tear the throat out of a baby given the chance.
Dirty Rascals
Little Tommy
Little Tommy just needs money for gruel or soup! Little Timmy can also cast Fireball.
Sally Shin Shanks
Pig-tailed doe-eyed little girl. Host of Unseen Servants with invisible knives. Likes cruel jokes involving her ‘Imaginary Friends’.
Jiminy Soot
Lives in a boot. Good at the shoot. Skilled in the root. 
Has a little horn that go doot doot doot.
Frail emaciated child suffering muscle degeneration. Huge veiny pulsing head. Carried around by a lobotomized nursemaid everyone calls ‘Mother’. Intense psychic powers. Can read your thoughts.
Dorothee the Dread Animator
Filthy little urchin covered in dirt and grime. Makes animated mud monstrosities straight from the muck and portends the future in murky street puddles. Probably an oracle and a hydromancer.
The Dead Janes
Jane Doe
Fairly tall. Different face every week. Pulls them off the corpses. Means her zombies are a bunch of muscle-faced tooth gnashers. Stitches around the jaw, ears, and forehead give it away. Uses an uncomfortable amount of direct eye contact.
Nine feet tall. Lustrous flowing black hair. Pearly white teeth straight like military gravestones. Frostbit black lips. Anemic skin. Cow eyes that display a melancholic malice. Unearthly strong. Wily and educated. Could choke the life out of a bull. Doesn’t need magic, but knows it anyway.
Fiona the Clean
Ex-Custodian? They call her “The Garbage Lady”. Knows how to clean up. Knows where to hide the bodies. Knows how to remove their identifying features. Commander of an undead legion of mystery bodies without faces, teeth, tongues, or fingerprints, all surgically cropped to the same dimensions. Identifies them, and everyone else, by numbers or letters.
Wet Sally
Stupid plastered grin. Big extravagant hats. Constantly looks like she’s melting. Part ooze. Pretty friendly, but her touch dissolves flesh. Wounds splatter her like a shattered jelly jar, spraying caustic ooze everywhere.
Madame Exuberance
So loaded with jewelry she could drown in knee-high water. Attended by four gold-gilded skeleton butlers. Platinum teeth. Literal heart of gold. Dripping with sarcasm. Philanthropic with her jewels, but only to the less fortunate. 
Black Dragons
Joshua Grave
Failed scientist turned acid spitter. Dripples the stuff from his mouth, ruining all his shirts. Wears a thin glass bib now. Holds a heavy grudge against academic journals and administrators. Spits to the side compulsively. Horribly runny nose.
Has a head like someone stretched human skin and features over a bloody cow skull. Claws for hands. Covered in black space tattoos. Absolutely suicidal in his devotion to the gang.
Formalyn Green
“Acid cleans...”. Self-professed acrimaniac. Wears a grim-faced glass mask and a chopping glass hand, augmented by thick forest green cloaks. Leper-skinned. Never looks away.
Harry the Rake
Forked-tongue polymorpher. Devious little sociopathic shit. Eats only live vermin. Fond of cruel and painful practical jokes - replacing drinking water with acid, impersonating someone’s boss and firing them, filling a baby carriage full of dynamite, etc.
Meisterin Voe
Dark priestess of the hoard. Compulsive counter, expert accountant. Hides a terrible destructive rage for when things don’t line up. Petrifying gaze. Corrosive touch.
Better Reality Union
Ozmond the Enlightened
White robes, serene expression, balding, calm voice. Like somebody’s nice dad. Pockets full of drugs.
Smiling Barbara
White robes, always smiling. Every part of her face except her mouth is glamored away, so it’s just the smile. Mannequin vibe, like a creepy nurse. Solves cleanliness problems with illusions and nothing else.
Looks like a villain from Die Hard who joined a cult. Resting bitch face is ‘pissed’. Heavy foreign accent. Sociopathically unconcerned with collateral damage and keeps a small, strong repertoire of illusions: ‘desperate little girl’, ‘wounded dog’, ‘sexy blonde’.
James Freemanson
Remember, he is an ACTOR. Remember that: he’s a professional. Short hair, goatee, slightly overweight. Fresh from the costume department. Crafter of experience. Conductor of reality. Flare, flare, flare, from here to there.
Glowing floating Akira baby. Paints worlds with their brain. Capable of local reality collapse, but only to the drugged. In brain space, they are a beautiful and terrible god.
Lock-Key International
Damond Black
Tailored suit, oiled black hair. Smooth, and a good liar. Laced with throwing knives. Informant for the Secret Police. Pioneered the Cone of Keys spell.
Scraggly-haired locksmith turned fixer. Poses like unassuming homeless woman. Sarcastic, clever. Pocket full of locks. Pocket full of master keys. Pocket full of tequila.
Somber gorilla golem. Manufactured hands split into sophisticated mechanical lockpicks. Brute force of a wrecking ball. Doesn’t say much.
Omar Price
Stylish professional with dreads full of chiming keys. Hums simple tunes while he works. Briefcase full of Eviction Notices and a folding fire axe.
Great Ma Mary
Unassuming old landlady with a mimic-purse full of teeth. Expert object animator and lock-whisperer. Talks doors off their hinges. Makes friends of the windows and spies of doormats.
Sons of the Serpent
Very Fidgety Guy
Eyes dart back and forth. Plaid shirt. Never talks. Forked tongue coiled up in mouth.
Eyes Not Quite Right
One eye has vertical pupil. Constantly humming monotone B-Flat half notes. Langy and emaciated.
Person Definitely Shedding Skin
Skin slides or peels off at the touch. Scaly underneath.
Woman With Forked Tongue That Lives In Your Dresser
You open the drawer and she’s just… there. Coiled up. Shedding. Disgusting.
Dude Who Points At Everyone And Crescendo Screams
The Fire Brigade
Bald cauliflower-eared brute. Carries a notched axe. What are the notches for? Fights? Murders? Personals stolen? He won’t tell, and nobody wants to ask. Always grinning after a fire.
Subchief Loony
Composed like a hobo. Never seen without hard liquor. Can’t feel any pain below the neck. Known to run right into burning buildings to save the booze.
Fire-resistant golem. Coated and equipped with choking suppressant chemicals and a complete lack of subtly. Strong, dumb, and completely unaware of how hot fire actually is.
Subchief Dora
Chief’s protege. Excellent stonewaller. Catchphrase: “What…”. What house? What fire? What looters? What screaming? What extortion? What bribes? What stolen property?
Cannibal Sam 
Never seen in public without his or her fire mask. Never says a word, unless it’s a comment about the smell of burning flesh. Has filed teeth. Axe kept meticulously clean.
The Dark Forces of the Curselord
Grumbly-voiced tryhard mercenary. Featherweight assassin too nervous to actually kill anyone. Carries very scary-looking but impossible-to-use weapons like double flails.
Murder Murder Von Murderface
Never killed anyone. Murdered plenty of helpless small animals, though. Psychotic clown with inept makeup. Fake nose keeps falling off.
What the hell are you doing in the Dark Forces, Steeve?! The most average man must be having a hard day. Ah well, at least he brought pasta salad.
Gimpy McGrand
Way too into the whole ‘Pain and Suffering’ thing. Makes the other Forces uncomfortable. As useful in a fight as a wet noodle. Good with knots, though.
The Sewer Witch
An actual buck-toothed swamp hag. Covered in toxic mold. Scares the crap out of the other members. Adept at for-real Curses. Could easily displace The Curselord, if she didn’t appreciate the cover of his buffoonery.
The League of Felonious Gentlemen
Mr. Eudicot
Tall, handsome, long flowing hair laced with aromatic flowers. Fond of flattering similes and unreciprocated gifts of roses. Master of gentle bees. Suspected florist and/or beekeeper.
The Grand Duke
A literal silver fox dressed for the queen’s ball. Walks upright, 4ft high, excellent elocution. Agile, wily, classically knowledged and age-wisened. Rumored that his sapphire-studded fox mask grants him this disguise. Suspected librarian.
The Adroit Brush
Practitioner of the exceptionally rare magic of painting. Berrett, spotless suit, paint-splattered mask. Wields a brush as the sword, and is capable of crafting creations from his paints in thin air. Quite elitist. Suspected dye merchant.
The Prince of Hot Drink
Always has tasty warm drinks handy - be it coffee, tea, hot chocolate, milk, or expresso. Famously honest and comforting, particularly to those down on their luck or in trauma. Relies on an orphan network for safety and information, and they will never betray him. He’s like Santa Claus to them. Suspected food vendor.
The Black Knight
Coarse and brooding, works alone. Dark cloak, shadow powers, and secretly has a heart of gold. The other Gentlemen sordidly acknowledge his brusque attitude but recognize his contributions. Suspected dilettante.
Sorority of the Cell
Stacy Bonelantern
Doctoral candidate in Anatomical Studies.Tight-tied cloak of scaled fingernails. Bioluminescent eyes. Her bone lantern smells delicious like barbeque. But with glowing eyes, what’s the lantern for?
Ghoulish. Likes to crack open living things with her bear hands. Not a typo. Bear hands. Looks like a starved yeti. Likes to ‘save bits for later’. Sleeps on a pile of broken bones.
True to her name, quite a downer in person. Pitch black hair to the floor, like a cloak. Apt at dirges. Can smell terminal illness. Comes with creative ways to describe them: “A sad dog”, “A ghost is clawing at the walls”, “The last bubbles of a liver drowning.”
Super-excited hyperactive bubblegum bacteria girl. Loaded with vials of endospores and cotton swabs. Looks like cotton candy but smells like rotten cooked fish.
Sophomore, Sister, Secret Snake Person. Constant anxiety attacks - it’s a lot of pressure juggling the responsibilities of good grades, maintaining your social status within the Sorority, and secretly being a snake person who will eventually betray everyone and swallow them screaming whole.

The Fire Brigade

"We've heard reports of a fire."
"What fire??"
*Casts Fireball* "That fire."

Criminal Activity: Arson, Extortion, Burglary, Robbery, Manslaughter.

Gang Signal: Big broad hats with flame emblems, fire-retardant armor, thick oven mitts, fire axes. Chemical-covered war wagons armed with water and fuel cannons.

Leader: Chief Gallagher

A big jolly man with a big red alcoholic's nose, a boisterous announcer's voice, and a keen ear for street politics. Enjoys narrating the 'heroic actions' of his Firemen as they 'protect the assets of the people!' Biggest bullshitter in Wizard City. Knows every Fire spell on the book. Never returns from a mission with his Firemen empty-handed.

Infamous gaslighter. Will tell people right to their faces the 'reality' of the situation, even when the counter-evidence is right before their eyes. 

"The Firemen started the fire? Impossible! Why, that's the opposite of their job!"

"Looting? What does that word even mean? I'm pretty sure you just made that word up!"

"Fire? What fire? Oh... That? Illusory glamours! The Better Reality Union must be at it again!"

"I don't hear anyone burning to death! You must be hearing things. Likely shock from the fire."

Woodworker's Alliance

"Georgie's got the imports. Gary's got the carpenters. Z's got the printers.
There ain't no wood in this whole damn town that don't go through the Alliance."

Criminal Activity: Monopoly, Arson, Espionage, Blackmail, Information Brokering, Ram-Raiding, Extortion, Corruption, Bribery, Grand Larceny, Smuggling, Terrorism.

Gang Signal: W.M.U. Tattoos, Employee Identifications, Fist-Shaped Scars

Leaders: "Big" Guy Gary, Georgie, Professor Z

Nothing stinks of money like a monopoly. The merger between the Wandmaker's Union, the Bookprinter's Cartel, and George the Cripple's Gang produced an alliance that would come to dominate all things wood and wood-derived. There isn't a shred of wood, wand, or paper that goes through this city without one of the three allied gangs sticking their fingers in it.

However, it is an Alliance, and a tenuous one at that. The three gangs remain monopolistically independent in their given spheres of interest: Georgie controls the docks, Gary controls the factories, and the Professor controls the printers. A criminal empire from raw resource to finished product. You can bet, though, that they'd all rather not share.

Sorority of the Cell

"I went to one of their parties. I'm pretty sure my drink was spiked and I woke up with no teeth and an extra butt. Having no teeth sucks but at least the butt is nice."

Criminal Activity: Illegal Biomancy, Kidnapping and Ransom, Extortion.

Gang Signal: Omnicron-Delta-Theta. Embroidered owls.

Leader: The Marcy Sisters

The Sorority doesn't have a determined leader. Instead, policies are voted on by every member of the organization. Each head gets one vote. That's what the charter says. One vote per head...

You can see where this is going.

All twenty Marcy Sisters share one contiguous body in a big bumpy demi-hecatonchires  As such, they get twenty votes. They all vote the same, so they represent a substantial voting bloc within the organization. This gives them a huge say in who gets to join, who gets kicked out, what enterprises the sorority partakes in, and what sort of hazing is allowed. Fortunately for the sorority, the Marcy Sisters are pretty smart. Twenty heads, clumsy as they are, allow for some substantial brain power when put to the task. They're all psychically linked, and all together they're capable of some serious telepathy, including ESP, mind control, and telekinesis.


  1. Interesting idea. In a high magic setting, it makes sense that there would be gangs of magic users. I especially like The Fire Brigade, but will have to check out the original post.