Final viewing: Prudence
The first boss of Rally Mortis is the eldest daughter, in a hearse, in a cemetery by the water, grieving professionally. How we built a fight in three parts, and why it has wreaths.
Every chapter of Rally Mortis ends with a final viewing: a one-on-one race against a single heir, in a place that suits them, with everything they have. Chapter one’s belongs to Prudence Vane-Holloway, who has been waiting since 1958 for a funeral worth dressing for.
You were his driver. I was his daughter. I was grieving first.

The place
The fight happens in the Lowmarsh Memorial Gardens: rows of headstones, cypress trees, narrow gravel paths, a great many wreaths and, this being Lowmarsh, a great deal of water at the bottom of the hill. It is a terrible place to drive a sedan and an excellent place to drive a hearse, which is the point. Prudence knows every path. You know none of them.
Three parts, like a funeral
The fight comes in three parts, named the way an undertaker would name them, and the game, being a legal document at heart, counts them on the statement afterwards.
- The Procession. Prudence leads at a stately pace through the gardens and rams you only when you are rude enough to get in her way. Please keep a respectful distance. Behind me.
- The Barges. Things go downhill, and then onto the water. Prudence takes the hearse out on to the barges moored below the cemetery, and you have to follow her, or find another way. Mind, barges roll.
- The Committal. The last part. Prudence stops pretending, and the hearse comes for you every time. Daddy would never have let you drive like this.
Mind the wreaths
The objective on the card is short: Wreck Prudence’s hearse. Mind the wreaths. The second sentence was a joke in the design meeting and became the most useful line of advice in the chapter. As the hearse takes damage, the wreaths come off the roof and into the road, and they are lovely, and they are everywhere, and you cannot see past them. The statement has a line for this, too: Funeral wreaths, assorted, airborne.
Lines for a boss
A boss needs more lines than a rival, and they need to get sharper as the fight goes on. Prudence starts polite and ends honest, and we have tried to make every line something only she would say:
I’ll mention this in your eulogy.
I am holding up beautifully. The car isn’t.
Flowers will follow. Something inexpensive.
How it ends, we are keeping to ourselves. Suffice to say the statement afterwards includes the line One (1) hearse, now a houseboat. We are very proud of that line.