His whole body ached and he wanted simply to lie down and sleep, but there was still much to do. Hargrim and the other dwarfs finished their discussion and strode over to him. Hargrim held the Hammer of Fate in his right hand. Felix noticed somewhat sourly that it had not burned him.

  “We owe you a debt we can never pay, Felix Jaeger,” Hargrim started. “You have saved the honour of our people and prevented the sacred warhammer of our ancestors from falling into the hands of our foes.”

  Felix smiled at the dwarf. “You owe me nothing, Hargrim. The Hammer of Fate saved my life. There is no debt.”

  “Nobly spoken. Nevertheless, what we have is yours.” Thank you, but I just want to go home,” Felix said, hoping he did not sound ungrateful.

  “We will leave together,” Hargrim said. Felix raised an eyebrow. “There are too few of us now to defend this place, and the Dark Ones surely now know of its location. It is only a matter of time before they return. It is time to take our Book of Grudges and the hammer and what we can carry of our hoard, and leave.”

  “I believe there is enough room on the Spirit of Grungni, Felix,” said Varek. He looked on Felix respectfully, as if seeking his approval for the decision. Obviously wielding the Hammer of Fate had given him some status among the dwarfs. There are only twenty-two dwarfs of Karag Dum now and if we clear the hold and double up in the cabins there will be space enough.”

  “I am sure you are correct,” Felix said.

  “It is imperative that we get the sacred warhammer away from here. And as much of the dwarfhoard as we can carry.”

  “Of course it is,” Felix said, looking at the chests the dwarfs were bearing out of the hidden vault. “But I worry about how we are going to get everything out. We have to find our way through the Chaos worshippers. And we are too weak and too few to fight.”

  Hargrim grinned. “Do not worry about that, Felix Jaeger. There are still many secret paths through Karag Dum which are known only to the dwarfs.”

  Felix looked over at the recumbent Gotrek, who looked far too pale and feeble to be moved. “What about Gotrek and the other wounded?” he said. Perhaps they should wait for the Slayer to die and bury him here in the vault along with the other heroes of the battle.

  “When I’m too weak to walk, manling, I will be too weak to live,” came a voice from the Trollslayer. Gotrek’s one good eye slowly opened. They all hurried over as he forced himself upright.

  “Then, by all means, let us get going,” Felix said happily.

  The Slayer looked around at the field of battle. “It seems my doom has eluded me yet again,” he said sourly.

  “Don’t worry,” Felix said. “I’m sure some other doom awaits!”

  Thanquol pulled back the curtain of his palanquin and blinked as the unaccustomed light crashed into his retina. He had just emerged from the Underways into the day. The bright summer sun of northern Kislev glared down on him like the watching eye of some pitiless god.

  He looked out into the awesome crater of Hell Pit. Beneath him he could see the enormous fortress of Clan Moulder. A sense of satisfaction filled him. He had driven his exhausted bearers for days to reach his goal.

  “Move quick-quick!” he ordered the panting slaves. “We still have a great distance to go!”

  Slowly the bearers stumbled down the slope.

  Eerie echoes erupted from the oddly sculpted towers. Great beasts roared. The smell of monsters and warpstone made Thanquol’s nostrils twitch.

  Here he knew he would find the allies he needed to capture the airship and take his inevitable revenge on Gurnisson and Jaeger. Already he could see skaven warriors accompanied by misshapen shambling beasts coming to greet him.

  Now, if only he could re-establish contact with his minion Lurk Snitchtongue, things would be well. He wondered what Lurk was up to right now.

  Lurk was not quite sure what those stupid dwarfs were up to, but he knew that soon the time would be right for him to act. He felt strong and certain that the Horned Rat was with him. Now, he waited only for his opportunity to strike. If the situation called for action, he would not wait. Oh no. He would spring out and overwhelm his foes.

  Maybe.

  Provided there weren’t too many of them.

  Scanning, formatting and basic

  proofing by Undead.

 


 

  William King, [Gotrek & Felix 03] - Daemonslayer

 


 

 
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