here's your first encounter with the fearsome gatekeeper of the underworld. have your papers at hand and try to outwit and outsmart him to enter the land of the dead.

Sub-boards: bone-daddys *, corpse-brides *, the nail in the coffin *

this is where the grim reapers work their bony socks off to greet new souls and welcome their clients to the eighth underworld. a tall administrative building opposite Nuevo Marrow - looking depressingly drab in comparison - this multi-story building is the second tallest in the land of the dead, and attempts to be homely and welcoming for the recently-deceased.

the impressive market place, slap-bang in the middle of ciudad muerta. renowned across the eighth underworld because of it's sheer size and products at hand - pastries, clothes, souvenirs and strangely, balloons. this is also where the famous day of the dead parade takes place - an event that attracts the deceased from everywhere.

what's there to do when you're dead? octavo cielo is a pleasent cafe/restaurant that's interested in your hunger pains and money. there's a small stage at the very end for local talent with wheezing lungs left, and the whole building is three-storey's high. the bottom floor is a cosy little cafe and snack bar, perfect for lunch meetings. second floor is predominately for fine food, popular with couples. the third floor is where the head chef and manager of octavo cielo live.

the main radio station in the eighth underworld that you can listen to wherever and whenever, sometimes even when you don't want to. the blaring tunes are usually the best and most patriotic of the 1950s, and the famous radio broadcaster a slimy english-accented fat cat from Nuevo Marrow. word of advice bone children - don't listen to a word he says, it's bound to be poison.

it's hard to describe this location - after all, it's the heart of the finite forest, an endless black abyss of decaying trunks and mummified leaves on the floor. there are no paths, no signs, no guides. there's just the ghoulish light of hidden eyes to light your way. be careful, we don't want you turning into another sack of bones.

underneath all the smoky blacklit glass and unearthly green lights, Cartilago is still a harbour town at heart. this port is flourishing with huge metallic ships of every name under the sun - perhaps one would one day take your decaying bones away? often, you'll find the portmaster here, singing his lungs to the stars.

opposed to nuevo marrow, this is the first hub of gambling that ever existed in the eighth underworld; owned by a pretty famous fat cat himself, this is where his darling kittens are put to the test in evenings full of golden drinks and fluttering money notes. part of the stadium is host to the owner's penthouse, and his flourishing lounge open to anyone with enough moneys.

keep your voice down here, bone-daddy. this is the coolest club in Cartilago. half underground with blue glinting windows, the dark name matches the dark, cool atmosphere inside. the door is always kept slightly open to let the frigid draft wash through. the regulars here are those who appreciate fine poetry. a simple click of the fingers is all they'll show if they approve.

the land of the dead is constantly growing with citizens - but how about locations too? have you got a suggestion or a question for us bone-daddys? this is the locale for you.