The Dread Corps

The dried, salty crust scrapes off your eyebrows as you rub your forehead, already blistering in the mid-day sun. "Red tomorrow," you think, regretting the time outside. Your mark is three hours late, and you're starting to get impatient.
Two hours later and you've just made contact. "Had 'em hot on our ass," the pirate stammers, not looking the Heel in the eyes. The later stands, imposing over the crinkly, sickly excuse for a sea brigand before you. "Had to shake 'em before we came in. Know the rules, I do. Told them to listen to the rules."
You supervise the unloading, casks of what appear to be nothing more than a dark grey muck slushing out of the tops of poorly-made barrels. The snot is chunky, hands half grasping onto mounds of it as they slop it from the ground back into the barrels, emitting a musk of burn hair as it plops and reforms. "They'll be under some rock soon," you spit over to the Heel, both of you trying not to gag at the smell as they roll past.
"If we're lucky," the Heel says, still looking out toward the ship, "its owners will be, too."

Structure

Not terribly top-heavy, the Dread Corps operates on four main levels.
1) The Heel: Leader of the Dread Corps, the Heel makes most – if not all – political deals, establishes trade, and makes most top-level administrative decisions. They are charismatic and strong, and their successor is chosen by a last-man-standing among the challengers following the Heel's death.
2) The Smacks: Smacks are the military generals of the Dread Corps. They keep the shores of Vubar safe and clean, as well as patrol the southern Bottleneck.
3) Hogs/Moles: Named after the "groundhogs" that they are, Hogs (or "Moles" as they are otherwise known) handle the logistics. They track shipments from the moment they come onto the shore, down to the Rangland hills for storage, and then back again upon retrieval. Usually exiles with little ability to fight, Hogs usually keep away from the more rowdy aspects of the Corps.
4) Meat: The Meat are everyone else. Fodder for the flame, they make their bones by jockeying for position among the rest of the Meat, earning their loot, taking on tasks...a Meat is only as good as their accomplishments, and riotous as the Dread Corps may be, a deed performed well does not go unnoticed.

Public Agenda

On the face of it, the Dread Corps seems to be perfectly content to run their black market pawnshop operation for the foreseeable future.
But it is only a matter of time before a Heel rises up with a hunger for power greater than their predecessors...

Assets

• One main encampment, semi-permanent Thin but well-kept network of local farmers, herders, and fisherman families Study (albeit earthen) bunkers, towers, and palisades in the Bottleneck An elaborate and well-built system of catacombs underneath the hills to facilitate storage A large network of pirates, brigands, and rogue officials who serve as repeat customers A steadily growing pile of loot, gold, and elsewise property taken as their cut over their years of operation

History

Their history is short and sweet: A group of brigands, raiding the local villages on the peninsula of Keris and returning to Vubar to hideout and enjoy their spoils.
It soon became clear that they would run out of villages soon, and the trips to and from their safe haven were becoming longer, so they began to make grassroots friendships with the local farming and goat herding population. Once they were secure in their supplies, they began storing a portion of their stolen goods in the nearby hills.
Soon local brigands began to catch on and would pay the misfits to use their hideouts for long-term fencing operations. As more advanced organization and accounting became necessary, a leader rose to keep business moving while maintaining a frightful presence in the region. This arrangement was codified in the form of the Dread Corps, a barely-governmental, loose band of land-bound smugglers who gained an international reputation without inciting too much unwanted attention...
...yet...

Your sanctuary.

Type

Geopolitical, Band

Alternative Names

Smugglers' Mit

Demonym

Moles