Where the rule of law is seen as being absent, weak, or too oppressive to want, and crime of all kinds flourishes, sooner or later people will take the law into their own hands and become vigilantes. Here are seven such gangs.
I had me a dream once. Just after I *acquired* this here knife. Only the knife was a bit shinier and I was in an alley somewhere. I dunno, maybe it was Brie or Holsten, someplace like that. Anyways, I'm walking down this alley when I comes across some dumb bloke trying to shortcut his way to market. Like *my* alley is a god-d**ned thoroughfare for just anyone!
The village sits on the edge of the deep fjord, often engulfed in mist or rain. Its people are fishermen, who work even through the sea-ravaging winter. And they pray to the gods of the deep.
At the beginning of every winter they hold a summoning ceremony. Three boats are taken out into the fjord, a hornsman on each. The mournful horns are blown in the language of the whales, the gods of the deep. The whales sometimes appear in answer to these calls, and it is taken as a good omen when they do.
To a party of PCs wandering the misty hills and valleys nearby however, the doleful whalesong of the horns can be disturbing and misinterpreted...