"The Iron Cemetary was where all the ghosts of Ettermire took residence. Twisting towers of scrap metal climbed high into the sky, emalgamating with piled high rusty pipes and clay debris from discarded kilns. Sometimes the homeless used the corroding metal girders as bunk beds while the rain railed against the cracked glass and failed metal work of the Dark Elves. In winter they would set a fire made from rubber and watch the thick black smoke disappear into the bitter air. They would cook fish stolen from the harbour nets and share apples poached from the commercial orchards on the hill. When a new waste dump from Ettermire's factories came, the pecking order decided who got to move in. First dibs went to the stronger kids. Sometimes the lower ranks got mixed up with who was the boss of who and there'd be a punch up, especially if some kid had shot up a few inches and put on some muscle.

The Iron Cemetary was a graveyard for Ettermire's cast offs, but to some, it was home."

Brotherhood report #010