"Borek Forkbeard, of the line of Grimnar, at your service and your clan's," the dwarf said, advancing from behind the desk. Felix saw that he was so bowed as to be almost hunch-backed and walked only with the aid of a stout, iron-shod staff. "Excuse me if I don't bow. I am not as flexible as I once was." Felix bowed and introduced himself.

"I must thank you for your aid in the battle last night," Borek said, "and for saving my nephew."

Felix was going to say that he had only fought to save himself, but somehow that did not seem very appropriate.

"I only did what any man would under the circumstances," he managed to force himself to say.

Borek laughed. "I think not, my young friend. Few of Sigmar's people remember the old debts and the old bonds these days. And few indeed can fight like you do, if my nephew is to be believed."

"Perhaps he exaggerates."

"Few dwarfs speak anything but the truth, Herr Jaeger. You are making a serious accusation when you say such a thing."

"I… I did not mean to say…" Felix stammered, then realised from the look in the old dwarfs eye that he was teasing him. "I simply meant that…"

"Do not worry. I will not mention this to my nephew. Now you must be hungry. Why do you not join the others to eat? After that there are serious matters to be discussed. Very serious matters indeed."

Breakfast lay spread across the table in the adjoining chamber. Huge ham hocks lay on plates of wrought steel. Monstrous slabs of cheese formed monuments to gluttony. Massive loaves of dwarf waybread, dark and yeasty, made mountain ranges across the middle of the spread. The smell of beer filled the air from the barrel that had already been broached. It came as no surprise to Felix, to see Gotrek and Snorri squatting down by the massive fire, swilling ale and cramming food into their mouths like they had just heard news of an imminent famine.

Varek watched them as if they were about to perform new prodigies of valour at any moment. His leather-bound book lay close at hand just in case he needed to record them. He wore new glasses of a style Felix now realised had been copied from his uncle's.

Another dwarf was also present, one whom Felix did not recognise and who did not immediately move forward to make his introductions in the dwarfish fashion. He glared at Felix suspiciously, as if expecting him to steal the cutlery. Ignoring his glares, Felix walked up to the table and helped himself to food. It was among the best he had ever tasted, and he wasted no time in saying so.

"Best wash it down with some ale, young Felix," Snorri suggested. "It tastes even better then."

"It's a bit early in the day for that," Felix said.

"It's after noon," Gotrek corrected.

"You've slept through two watches, young Felix," Snorri said.

"A minute wasted is like a copper spent," grumbled the dwarf Felix did not recognise. He turned to regard him. He saw a dwarf shorter than most, and broader than most too. His beard was long and black; his hair was close cut and parted in the middle. His eyes were keen and piercing. His severe black tunic and britches while obviously well made were old and threadbare. His high boots looked old but well-polished. Metal segs protected the heels from wear and tear. He was portly and there was a fleshiness about his face which reminded Felix of his father and other rich merchants he had known. There was a suggestion to it of large meals eaten in well-appointed guildhalls where serious business was discussed. The dwarfs hands flexed at his belt as if constantly checking to see whether his rather flat purse was still there.

Felix bowed to him. "Felix Jaeger at your service, and your clan's," he said.

"Olger Olgersson at yours," the dwarf said before bowing back. "You wouldn't be connected with the Jaegers of Altdorf, by any chance would you, young man?"

Felix felt momentarily embarrassed. He was the black sheep of the family after all, and had left the family home under a cloud after killing a man in a duel. He forced himself to meet Olgersson's gaze calmly and said, "My father owns the house."

"I have done good business with them in the past. Your father has a good head for business—for a human."

The near contempt in the dwarfs tone made Felix bristle but he kept calm, reminding himself that he was a stranger here. It would not do simply to take offence in a keep full of touchy dwarfs who may all be this stranger's kin.

"He'd have to be, if he made any money dealing with you, Olger Goldgrabber," Gotrek said unexpectedly.

"Olger is a famous miser," Snorri said cheerfully. "Snorri knows that when he takes a coin from his purse the king's head blinks."

The two Slayers cackled uproariously at this ancient joke. Felix wondered how much they had already drunk. Olgersson's face went red. He looked as if he would like to take offence but did not dare.

Obviously neither Gotrek or Snorri cared about his wealth, his influence or his kin.

"No one ever got rich by spending money," he said huffily and turned and stalked back into the other room.

"You should be kinder to Herr Olgersson," Varek said. "He is the one funding this expedition."

Gotrek sputtered out a mouthful of beer in astonishment. His head swivelled to inspect the young scholar as if he had just claimed that gold grew on trees. "The greatest tightfist in the dwarf kingdom is giving you gold. Tell me more about this!"

"My uncle will, in just a few moments."

Felix felt a mixture of trepidation and curiosity as they filed into Borek Forkbeard's study. He was curious to hear what had drawn all these disparate dwarfs to this out-of-the-way place. He was worried by the prospect of where this whole thing might lead. Looking out the window at those mighty industrial structures, recalling the ferocity of the skaven's attempt to take possession of them, and seeing the huge assemblage of craftsmanship and skill which had been put into place here made it difficult for him to imagine that the dwarfs were not serious about their mysterious purpose. It was all too easy to imagine how Gotrek and himself might be drawn into it.

Borek looked up at him with twinkling eyes. Olger stood in the far corner, swivelling a globe of the world with his hands, his back ostentatiously turned to the party. The old scholar grinned at them, and bade them all take a seat. Since the dwarf armchairs were too close to the ground for Felix he remained standing.

There was a moment's silence while Borek consulted some of the papers on his desk and made an annotation in runic with a quill pen. Then he coughed to clear his throat just like Felix's lecturers used to back at the University of Altdorf and began to speak.

"I am going to find the lost citadel of Karag Dum," he said without preamble. There was a challenging look in his eye when he glanced over at Gotrek.

"You cannot," Gotrek said flintily. There was a hint of bitterness in his voice. "We tried all those years ago. We failed. The Wastes are impassable. Nothing can survive there sane and unchanged. You know that as well as I do."

"I believe we have found a way."

Gotrek snorted then shook his head in disbelief. There is no way. We tried to force a passage with the best armed and equipped expedition ever assembled for the purpose. You know how many of us survived. You, me, Snorri, maybe a handful of others. Mostly dead now or mad. I tell you it cannot be done. And you know how many died in the expeditions before ours."

"You did not always think that way, Gotrek, son of Gurni."

"I had not then seen the Chaos Wastes."

Then you will not even listen to what I have to say?"

"No, no. I will listen, old one. Go ahead, tell me what crazy scheme you have in mind. Perhaps it will give me a good laugh."