The Fionswood Cemetery was a thoroughly modern solution to a truly ancient problem. As the City of Tarnhaven ballooned ever larger from the influx of people drawn across the nation by the industrial revolution, the graveyards and burial grounds quickly ran out of space. But the dead care not for the tribulations of mortals, and kept piling up without end. Eventually, the problem became so great action was required. After careful consideration a site outside the village of Fionswood, to the south of the city and much further from the coast, was chosen and a grand necropolis was constructed. Deceased Tarnhavenites of every species, culture and creed were accommodated in the carefully landscaped vistas, and their living loved ones were afforded every modern convenience, from heated chapels to gas lighting, there was even an ironroad connection direct to the city. Every day a steady stream of hundreds made the journey south, whether it was to their final rest or simply to visit those who had already departed. 

The cemetery represented something very different for Moren Galag, however, to him it had become an opportunity. The ragged canid watched the rest of his crew as they skulked around one of the lanes of gravestones as if none of them had actually listened to the plan. Like him, they had all once been disgruntled dockers who had drifted towards the petty criminal life, but he was the only one that had any ambition. He had been the only one to get fully behind old Tevar when he had got them the job fetching and carrying for the smugglers, and after the old bastard had… disappeared he was the natural choice for new leader. Now it was clear he was the only one of them who saw the deal they had been getting was skewed heavily against them, and naturally he had a plan to fix that.

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