If I had a dollar for every bauble, gris-gris, talismen, and knock-off relic hucked at me 'long Coven Lane I'd buy 'em all out and put 'em in the gallows. 'Least, that's what I'd like to do. Wouldn't be smart though. Hoodoo hucksters have long memories and one hell of a sense of right and wrong. You cheat one of a vial of holy water and they'll stick the souls of the damned to your apartment walls and slide doom curses under your door every night. Unpleasant stuff. Most hoodoo hucksters aren't worth mentioning. They sell small time things that run off of a flimsy battery of belief harvested from some backwaters superstitions. Their talismans will fail you and their gris-gris will leave you unprotected when you go touring the Blood Allies or Swamp Styx. But there are a good few who know their stuff; they work with something and make something as a result. Sounds simple, eh? Not really. They are hoodoo hucksters after all--for every real pie...
Where the dead gamble for their death wish.