Born in the smoke of the Yards and raised on bad deals, the Southside Sinners aren’t the biggest crew in Chicago—but they’re the hungriest. In a city full of kings and corpses, the Sinners plan to live long enough to be both.
A cursed brotherhood of displaced street soldiers, fueled by vengeance, desperation, and hellish backing. Forged in blood and bound by flame, the Devil’s Hand is more than a gang—it’s a sermon of suffering.
The South Lords don't just run Englewood—they haunt it. Born from struggle and sharpened by loss, they move like wolves behind closed blinds and cracked stoops. Bigger than most, meaner than many, and hungry enough to take on anyone—BCN included.
Loud, proud, and gunning for respect, the Crown Sons claim Englewood one block at a time. They’re younger, hungrier, and not afraid to bleed for a name they carved themselves.
A fading Lithuanian crew stitched together by ash, iron, and old Veil rites—kept breathing only by fear, superstition, and the last dregs of neighborhood loyalty.
Bone charms, blood rites, and back-alley strikes—the Reapers don’t just kill, they echo. A ghost-tinged gang of West Englewood teens and street phantoms, they wear their dead like armor and leave whispers in their wake.
A militant street order born from war, rooted in Veil rites and righteous fury. The Monarchs are West Englewood’s old guard in gold-trimmed jackets and iron-hard fists.
A defiant band of ex-runners, street orphans, and muscle laying claim to the battered green heart of Washington Park, the Saints believe in vows, faith, and fighting for what’s left.
A ragged pack of Bridgeport bottom-feeders who deal in dead things, broken wards, and old secrets buried in rust and limestone. Nobody takes them seriously—until something's whispering in your crawlspace and only the Bonepickers know how to shut it up.
