It was a uplifting moment to see the stoneslab fall and break apart. The runes broken and ornaments being destroyed, much of it with captured dwarfen tools recently used to create the very same beauty. Mathi smiled at the poetic justice. Oberst Todt rarely did that otherwise.

Many had joined the expedition due to the promise of riches. Mathi Todt had no problems with getting some gold out of it. After all, he had soldiers and followers who needed food and clothes all year round. But this was not just any campaign. This was a chance to get a measure of revenge. A revenge against the race so many held in high regards for both craftsmanship and honour. Well, he would not deny the dwarfs capabilities when it came to manufacturing, but when it came to honour Mathi Todt cared little.

Mathi heard the noise of a clash of arms almost before anyone else. Shouts and the sound of metal against metal and wood. The scream of a wounded. He hurried against the sound. Caerndan, the elven captain in his service, appeared to his left, also hasting towards the sound.

A piece of bare rock portruded out of the ground ahead of them, and in it was an opening. Before the opening stood a dwarf, his hair dyed red in the fashion of the slayers. He stood there, almost as immovable as the rock behind him. Before him in a halfcircle a troop of halberdiers were standing with their weapons pointed towards him, the sound of their fast breathing clearly audible.

"Come here, manlings! Come here if you think you are so brave! My axe is thirsty and even if I hoped it would finally drink urk blood I guess you lot have to do!"

The slayer swung his twohanded axe in an eight, moving remarkably smoothly for his muscular frame. It was very clear to anyone with a modicum of knowledge in the art of war that he was a very skilled and seasoned warrior. After seeing two comrades swiftly being put out of action the soldiers were totally assured of his competence.

"Should we not talk with him?"
Caerndan looked at Mathi as if he already knew the answer to his own question.

"What good will talking do? You know aswell as I that dwarfs only listen to themselves. He has chosen to make a stand before this piece of rock, for whatever reason, and he will most likely not see any point in being talked out of it."

Mathi spat at the ground.

"Besides, it spoils the fun of the moment."

If Caerndan sighed at Mathis reply, it was not easily seen. He nodded and looked at the dwarf again.

"Shall I get the needed men?"
"Yes, please. Also, assume he has some runic witchery upon him."

Caerndan nodded, turned and walked away. As he got a bit from the place he whispered to himself:
"Stubborn and embittered. Just like a dwarf..."

Mathi walked up to the halberdiers who reluctantly made room for him to pass. Many muttered words of warning but Mathi seemed not to listen. His eyes were on the dwarf.

"Hey there, manling! Are you the leader here or are you just too dumb for your own good?"

"Indeed I am the leader here, dwarf. Dumb is a word your kin is very keen on throwing in the direction of whoever happen to disagree with your kind."

"Ahh... So we have a funny one here. Tell your men to back away if they want to live. Because I am NOT!"

"Rude as ever, dwarf"

"Rude! You call that rude? What do you call assaulting and murdering dwarfs in their sleep, tearing down and defaming this site... this holy place of rememberance and mourning? We have done nothing towards you and here you come with brandished steel! These mountains are filled with greenskins, more than enough for the both of us! But you choose to slaughter my kin! Tileans accepting pay from the greenskins!?"

Mathi laughed at the slayers tirade. A joyless laugh with some bitterness behind it.

"I am a Nordland son, not a Tilean. And no, we are not serving any greenskin. I am not here to slay greenskins either, unless I have too. That is my trade, the soldiers."

"Nordland! A son of the Empire. Did your father forgot to tell you about the old alliance? About how your Lord Sigmar fought alongside my kin? Have you that little respect for your own god and his trust in my kin?"

Mathi smiled for the second time that day. He had drawn his sword, the small dwarf runes clearly seen on the blade. His left hand were toying with a small raven skull hanging around his neck. He only wore it when he was in armour.

"I am known as Mathi Todt. My family have known the truth about the dwarves since my grandfather was abandoned by the treacherous kin of yours. Abandoned because of some important matter of honour was more important than doing the job at hand. I was taught by my father NEVER to forgive, never to forget. This I will pass on to my offsprings aswell. No words about Sigmar Heldenhammers alliance aided my grandfather. No pleas about aid could swing the dwarves. In the end, my grandfather paid the price for your kin rushing away to settle an old score. A grudge of some petty kind."

"Speak not foul about our tradition that you know nothing about!"

"I speak what I damn well PLEASE! Since that day, my family do not trust Lord Sigmar, nor lord Ulric for that matter. We know that the only diety a soldier can trust is Morr. He comes for you sooner or later. And I believe he has come for you too, dwarf!"

To Mathis left the halberdiers fell back in order to make room for a platoon of handgunners lining up, matches glowing and muzzles pointing towards the lone slayer. Mathi sensed the blastwave and heat from the muzzleflashes and smiled for the third time that day as bullets impacted into the slayer. Some were turned away by an unknown force, but many found their mark. The slayer had lifted his axe and started to move forward, but the fussilade tore a large chunk of his face away, a low bullet smashing his right knee and another one shattering his left elbow. His torso was hit by half a dozen rounds.

He fell face first, dead as he hit the ground. From the cave came the sound of panicked voices.

"Reload. Sounds as if we need to silence a few more rats before we can search that cave."