"Welcome home, daughter of my heart!" he bellowed.

"It is good to be here, father. Now put me down and greet your guests."

The old man's gusty laughter boomed out and he stomped over to where the crew of the airship stood waiting. He stopped short of embracing the dwarfs. Instead he bowed low in the dwarfish fashion, showing surprising flexibility for a man of his age and enormous girth.

"Borek Forkbeard! It is good to see you. I trust you will find all as you requested it."

"I trust I will," the old dwarf said, bowing just as low.

"Gotrek Gurnisson, I bid you welcome also. It has been a long time since you honoured my hall with your presence. I am pleased to see you still carry that axe."

"I am pleased to return, Ivan Petrovitch Straghov," Gotrek said in his least surly manner. Felix guessed that the Slayer was almost pleased to see the Kislevite.

"And who is this? Snorri Nosebiter? I must see that a bucket of vodka is left at your table. Welcome!"

"Snorri thinks that would be a good idea." One by one all the dwarfs were greeted or introduced and then Ulrika led her father over to where Felix and the wizard stood waiting.

"And, father, this is Felix Jaeger of Altdorf."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Felix said, extending his hand. Straghov ignored it as he loomed over Felix, hugged him in welcome and then kissed him once on each cheek. "Welcome! Welcome!" he bellowed in Felix's ear, loud enough to threaten deafness. Before Felix could respond, he had been dropped and the old man was doing the same to Schreiber.

"I thank you for the enthusiasm of your welcome, sir," the wizard said when he had regained his breath.

Felix exchanged glances with Ulrika, then looked in wonder over at the row of warriors who lined their way to the hall. Ivan Straghov might look and behave like a barbarian but there could be no doubt that he was a mighty warlord in his own land. A hundred riders stood by as an honour guard. All had hard faces and cold eyes, and all looked like they could use the well-honed weapons they presented to the dwarfs. According to Ulrika there were nine hundred more of these fierce riders who had sworn allegiance to her father. Being March Boyar was obviously an important post. Since it commanded the first line of defence against the hordes of Chaos, Felix guessed that it ought to be.

"Now we eat!" boomed Straghov. "And drink!"

Huge tables had been set up inside the mansion's walls. Minor functionaries from all around had been invited to feast and marvel at the dwarfish airship. Caribou had been roasted on spits over great fire-pits. Plates were heaped with coarse black bread and cheese. Great flasks of fiery spirit which Snorri identified as vodka were put beside each plate. As promised, a bucket of the stuff was put beside Snorri.

Felix followed the example of the locals and tossed back his tumbler in one swift gulp. It felt like he was swallowing molten metal. A cloud of something acidic seemed to burn the lining of his throat and make its way up to his nostrils, bringing tears to his eyes. He felt like he ought to be breathing fire and it was all he could do to keep himself from spluttering. He guessed that such behaviour would not be good form here however.

He was glad that he had not done so when he noticed that all eyes watched him to see how he reacted to his first taste of the spirit.

You drink like a true winged lancer!" Straghov bellowed and all the table banged their glasses on the table in agreement. Their host insisted that everyone fill their glasses, then shouted: To Felix Jaeger, who comes from the land of our allies, the Empire!"

Of course, Felix could do nothing less than pledge a return toast to the ancient friendship between his folk and the folk of Kislev. Before long, the dwarfs were joining in too. Felix noticed that a pleasant warmth had settled in his stomach and that his fingers felt slightly numb. The vodka certainly got easier to drink the more glasses he tossed back, and soon he ceased to feel like it was burning his throat.

Great mounds of food were devoured. Toast after toast was made. Great speeches of welcome and friendship were spoken until darkness fell. Somewhere during the course of the afternoon, Felix lost track of events. His head swimming from the vodka, he was only dimly aware of eating far too much, drinking far too much and joining in the singing of songs whose words he did not know. Some time during the evening he was sure he danced with Ulrika, before she whirled away to dance with Schreiber, and then sometime after that he wandered off to be sick beside the stables.

After that his mind blanked completely and great chunks of memory were lost to the vodka and Kislevite hospitality. For the rest of his life he was not sure quite who he spoke to or what he said or how he got to the chamber that was allocated to him. Forever afterwards, however, he was grateful that he did.

Felix awoke the next day feeling like a horse had kicked him in the head. Perhaps one had, he thought; he checked his face for bruises but could find none. He looked around the room and saw that the floor was of packed earth. The mattress was filled with straw and someone had thrown a thick quilt over him. During the night he had drooled on his pillow and a patch of wetness was evident where his head had been. At least, he hoped it was just drool.

He pulled himself to his feet, and wondered whether at some point during the previous evening he really had challenged Snorri Nosebiter to a wrestling match. He seemed to have a vague recollection of some such thing, or maybe he had just dreamt it. His limbs certainly felt twisted enough for him to have engaged in such a foolish pursuit. Maybe he had.

That was the worst thing about a really hard drinking session. You could never quite remember what you had said, who you had insulted and to whom you had issued foolish challenges. You simply engaged in insane behaviour. At that moment, he wondered if perhaps it was true that alcohol was a gift from the Dark Gods of Chaos intended to make men mad, as some of the temperance minded cults in the Empire claimed. Right now he didn't care. He just knew that he never, ever intended to drink again.

A knock sounded on the door. Felix threw it open and blinked out into the harsh daylight.

"Amazing," Ulrika said by way of a greeting. "You are on your feet. I would not have thought it possible after the amount of vodka you consumed last night."

"That impressive, eh?"

"All were impressed. Particularly by the way you climbed the airship tower while reciting one of your poems."

"I did what?"

"I am only joking. You only climbed the tower. Most people thought you would fall and break your neck, but no…"

"I really climbed the tower?"

"Of course, don't you remember? You bet Snorri Nosebiter a gold piece that you could. At one point you were going to do it blindfolded but Snorri thought that was an unfair advantage because you would not be able to see the ground and would not be quite so afraid. That was just after you'd lost a silver piece arm wrestling him."

Felix groaned. "What else did I do?"

"When we were dancing, you told me I was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen."

"What? I'm sorry."

"Don't be! You were very flattering."

Felix felt himself starting to blush. It was one thing flattering a pretty woman. It was another having no memory of having done so.

"Anything else?"

"Is that not enough for one night?" she smiled.

"I suppose so."

"So you are ready to go riding then?"

"Eh?"

"You told me that you were a great horseman, and you agreed to go riding with me this morning. I was going to show you round the estate. You were very enthusiastic about it last night."