Factories spew smoke into the night sky. The full moon shines through the haze, casting pale light upon the graveyard's tombstones and mausoleums.

"I dare not disturb a mourner wandering the rows."

The woman's soft, husky voice startles you. You raise your lantern in search of its owner but find only shadow and fog.

"But at this hour, London's graveyards are mine. And mine alone."

A figure cloaked in gray appears from behind a crypt. Her hood masks her face in shadow, but you can feel her eyes daring you to challenge her.