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 Motor City now contains more uninhabited land than the entire area of the city of Boston, and ranks number one in unmarried births among the United States’s fifty largest cities. Just over half of its streetlights are operational. More than two-thirds of its homicides go unsolved, and 9-1-1 callers can expect to wait at least an hour for police to arrive, if they show up at all. The shell of what was once the wealthiest city in America is now home to nearly 80,000 abandoned and blighted structures (about a fifth of the city’s housing stock), with an average of 14 acts of arson committed each day. Corruption is widespread and deeply entrenched at every level of public life, from the faded halls of power all the way down to the most desperate street-corner hustler.

The fae of Detroit have suffered an equally rude awakening from the American Dream. For more than half a century, the cycle of the Seasonal Courts has been broken: more like warring gangs than complimentary mindsets, the Courts of the Wheelhouse have each staked out their territory and pursued their separate agendas through violence, assassination, intimidation, and the manipulation of corrupt politicians, shady police officers, and any thug 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 possibility of hope is a resource worth killing for.

Great wheels have been set in motion. And none know where they may take us.

Welcome to Detroit.

Rolling In The D