He found his way to the Hall of Archives and made his way to the division of the planning office with responsibility for sewers.

He knew he would find what he needed there. Three quarters of an hour, much browsing through ancient, dust-covered files and plans, two threats and one bribe later, he had proven himself to be correct. Pleased with himself, Felix made his way to the watch house.


They were instantly assigned to help out the rest of the watch in the area that had burned: burying the dead, searching the rubble for the living. They marched up to the shantytown to take a look. The fire had ripped through many hovels, the burned and the disfigured dead were everywhere. A little boy, his face blackened by soot, sat near an old woman who whimpered quietly to herself.

“What happened here, son?” Felix asked.

“It was the rat-daemon what did it,” the boy said. “I saw it myself. It killed the men who lived there and carried them below to feast. Ma says it’ll come for me next if I don’t behave.”

Felix exchanged looks with Gotrek. Savage interest was evident in the Trollslayer’s one good eye.

“There’s no such thing as rat-daemons, lad. Don’t lie to us — we’re with the watch.”

“There is too. I saw it with my own eyes. It was taller than you and heavier than that big one-eyed dwarf. It was led by a smaller rat-man with grey skin and horns on its head.”

“Did anyone else see it?”

“Don’t know. I hid. I thought they might take me too.”

Felix shook his head and went to check the ruins of Hef and Spider’s hut. There was little left of the pitiful building save the burned-out remains and the charred corpse of a woman.

“No sign of Hef or Spider?”

Gotrek shook his head and pointed with his toe to something grey and sharp lying in the ashes. “That’s Hef’s knife.”

Felix bent and picked it up. The metal was still warm from lying in the embers. Felix looked at the corpse. The smell of burnt meat filled his nostrils.

“Gilda?” said Felix.

Felix shook his head. Sorrow and rage filled him. He had liked the brothers. They had been good men. Now he wanted vengeance.


“You were an engineer once, Gotrek. Tell me what these mean.”

Felix ignored the Trollslayer’s incredulous look. He cleared a space on the table in the watchroom and spread out the charts. Rudi watched curiously as he smoothed the cracked old parchment flat and weighed down each corner with an empty tea mug.

The Slayer gave his attention back to the papers. “These are charts of the sewers, manling. Dwarf-made plans of the Old Quarter.”

“That’s correct.