Neustadt Small Arms Factory, Neustadt, Naggaroth

The shiny rod spun so quickly that whatever imperfections it might have were hidden from Tevil's view. A tungsten carbide tip was pressed into its side and metal shavings sprung from it. Two very pale, very steady human hands turned the wheels that guided the tip minutely and with every passing second, it changed shape.

"If he is too slow, he cannot produce as many bolts as he theoretically could. If he is too fast, he will burn up the tungsten tip which is hard to replace if he is lucky. He could well ruin the mill otherwise. He must make sure that the shavings are long enough so they part well and short enough not to cause damage," the human artificer carefully explained.

Tevil's enhanced true eleven hearing allowed him to follow Thorsten Breitkop's explanation while he watched a second slave extracts the semi-finished bolt from the mill and replace it with a new blank.

"We do have enough untrained slaves here so that we can support the skilled ones wherever possible. They hashed out the work share by themselves. We call it self-improvement, and if they can show they improve production they earn some credits. Means they get some extra food and stuff. Works out well, we do not have enough mills and a well-motivated slave can get the most from them," Thorsten briefed the Dark Elf.

"For 10 hours a day, only six days a week?" Tevil was shocked at the short hours.
Thorsten shook his head. "Which is a bit too long already. Any more and his concentration is gone, we tried it. Have them work 12 hours instead of 10, and the failure and accident rate doubles. I have more slaves than machines, this gets the most from them."
"Whatever," the Elf said dismissively.

No, Tevil Magestalker already lost hope he could find anything that would help him please Malus Darkblade.

Pub Leuchtturm, Berlin

The three steins met with enough force to cause a clang but not so much as to splash any of the expensive beer inside.

The three hands that held the steins were as different as those of two closely related species could be. One was very slender, pale and looked like it could end up as an arm on a statue, another was barely more substantial and a bit soft. The last was broader with nails that seemed a bit coarse.

"To a corpse well dissected. Thanks for your last service whoever you might have been," a voice procalimed in good cheer.
"Prost."
"Prost."
"Prost"

Erendiel of the House of Ethelorne thought this a bit lacking in elegance. A nice eulogy or a poem would be more fitting to mark the end of the last semester. Together with Bernd Laudien and Sigmarslieb "call me Siggy" Kleinwächter, he had dissected the body of a middle-aged man.

They never learned his name or what had motivated him to donate his body to science. His liver had told the story of a life spent consuming copious amounts of alcohol and his brain showed that he had suffered badly from that. The corpse's hands had been free of callus, so it was unlikely that he had worked hard during his last years.
As meager as his showing might have been in life, in death the skills he had helped instill into the three future doctors might well save more than a few lives. That was probably worth a meditation or two and a poem. Yes, he would do so, as soon as time and hangover allowed.
His train of thought was broken by a low hum and a vibration that tingled his fingers through the tabletop. Bernd stole a glance at the screen and smiled.

"This Tinder thing again Bernd?" the Imperial asked with some amusement.
"Yes Siggy, that Tinder thing again, and it looks like I got lucky," the German confirmed.

With a sly grin, Siggy teased. "Have you Germans forgotten how to woo a lady in the flesh?"

"No, not really. But they cut you a little slack in the 'what is allowed' department, I am walking a tightrope between trying to get to know somebody and sexual harassment. Much safer this way and the rejections are easier to swallow," Bernd explained, thinking to himself that yes, it was much better this way.
Erendiel took a swallow of his ale and asked. "So are you looking for a partner?"
"Depends for what Erendiel. I think I will pass as you will, then I have to take up an internship. Not much money and long hours, not ideal for marriage and kids, I'd say. Let's say that the lady in question would have to be very special for that," Bernd elaborated.
"I see," the Elf said doubtfully.
"Oh come on Erendiel, it is not as if you have any problems in that department," Bernd snorted.

"It would be big-time whinging I am afraid. But one day I have to go back to Ulthuan and then the fun will have to stop. Even more so, as I fear I will be a bad fit among the Asur after my years among the barbarians uncouth enough to challenge most of our views. Once I am back and working at one of the new fertility clinics, my clan will do its utmost to couple me to a fitting maiden," Erendiel said with a sigh.

"Have to keep the lineage and all that. They will make sure that our traits match well as if we are dogs bred to a strange ideal. Not that this is probably the leading factor why we need the bloody fertility clinics, but who cares. And the connection should further the standing of the clan, of course. What I and the poor maiden think about that hardly matters. We are Asur, we have our duties…." the Elf looked slight mournful and took a deep drink from his tankard.
"Well, at least the latter sounds familiar," Siggy interjected.
"Why is that Siggy?" Bernd asked.
"You know that I am from a merchants family right? That without that bloody aptitude test and that stipend I'd now learn about double-entry bookkeeping and EBIT? My future in this regard is a big question mark, but if not for that I'd be having a dose of Erendiel will receive. Minus the "breed for perfection" thing, of course, a family free of hereditary diseases and having lots of money or influence will do," Siggy elaborated to his German friend.

"A poor noble family for a title would have been nice a couple of years ago, but that is no longer desirable. She has to be able to bear children though, otherwise, she'll be out on her ear quickly. Have to provide for heirs and workforce, can't trust anybody like family, can't you."
"Am I the only one who thinks that is fucked up? That you should be allowed to marry whom you want, the girl you love?" Bernd asked in disbelief.
"Germans, so rash..." the Elf smirked.
"Germans, so rich..." the Imperial mocked.
"What the fuck?" the German glared at his friends.

The Erendiel and Siggy laughed.

After taking another swallow of his beer, the Elf said: "Bernd, my good friend, do not take this wrongly, but compared to us Asur you are short-lived. If you are very lucky and handle things well, you might indeed keep love alive for as long as you live. I have seen humans who made that happen, lucky them. But loving somebody for a hundred years or two hundred? Not going to happen, and there is still a long way to go together. So marriage is about other things, the ones we talk about."

"And you are lucky as you are so rich. Everybody can make a single life. Might be a shitty life if you are unlucky but if needs be, you will not starve, you will have a roof above your head, and you will be treated if you are sick. And if you can no longer work then you will get some pension. Must be nice. If I and my fellow Imperials have no kids and no extended family then simply out, nobody will look after us when we are old and frail. Survival and duty to family business beat lust and love most of the time," Siggy added.
"Sounds like you two do not have that much fun," Bernd said grumpily.
"Officially the Asur live healthy, honorable lives dedicated to duty towards our clans and the fight against Chaos of course," Erendiel said with a straight face.
"Yeah...," the German looked at the Elf with incredulity.
"I see you do not believe me Bernd, and that wounds my heart," Erendiel laughed. "At the same time, I am glad you are not that gullible. For the rich and famous, keeping a concubine of both sexes is quite all right as long as things are handled discreetly. For the rest of us plebs, there are friends, lovers and some festivals given to Isha that help. The discretion is still important, but currently, any child resulting is greeted happily and the parentage not too much asked about with commoners. If that changes with the new clinics I cannot say."

Amusement aside, Siggy could understand why his German friend has problems understanding the facts of life in the Warhammer world. The Germans came from a world with an abundance of food and medical care. Even after all this time, they still have trouble with the grittier side of life in this world.

"It is the less refined version for us Imperials, even if children are to be avoided. Father would have been very understanding if I would take up something with a maid. I would have been required to add to the dowry when the relationship ends. The family might have help to find a suitable husband. You Germans and the Sisters of Shallya made things much easier when you started distributing rubbers to everybody. If you go to the less well off, especially to the poorer farmers and the farmhands, things were nastier. To the point of grimdark, I am afraid," he carefully said, knowing that his friend might explode at his next words.
"We always had nasty child mortality, kids were usually not named until they were one or two years of age. So farmers had lots of kids to have enough survivors when time to hand over the farm when they could no longer do that themselves. Things got really nasty whenever the calculations and chances were off, and the kids all survived. Three kids were a blessing, a fourth manageable and a fifth a challenge. Any past that and they took some to the gardens."

"What?" Bernd was shocked. Surely Siggy didn't mean that. "Are you serious?"
"As serious as cancer," the Imperial said, looking Bernd in the eyes.
"Are you telling me that Imperial citizens are killing their children wholesale?" Bernd asked softly, keeping his voice down.
"What I am telling you Bernd, is that a lot of children went to sleep and never wake up again. What I am telling you is that even Sigmar's own priests were far more willing to find "signs of corruption" in children past the fifth one. And I am telling you that everybody countryside knew about it and nobody talked about it. The family was simply not able to feed all, they needed to choose who lives. I have read your fable of Hänsel and Gretel, I am pretty sure this thing was based on something similar in your past. The only thing that makes this bearable is that it ends these days. Child mortality is way down with vaccines, more and better food and basic hygiene. At the same time, food is more plentiful and cheaper. On top of that, most farmers can now choose whether they want another kid or not. Plus there is always work in the factories. So, no more taking kids to Mors' Garden and isn't that a good thing," Siggy said.

There was a somber silence among the three before their food arrived. It was accompanied by more beer to wash the burgers down and that got things going again. More beer made for less serious subjects and not too soon it turned to the new times.

"Can you believe that my parents are concerned as the new Lothern-Lysean railroad passes within ten kilometers of their fields? 'It will poison our wheat', really now," Erendiel changed the subject.
"Mine still believe it is a good thing to swaddle babies and not cut their fingernails for two years," Siggy added.
"Mine just signed the petition to move the Kraken to the list of protected species?" Bernd laughed.

Three beer steins met in the middle, giving a resounding clang and some beer spilled on the table below.

"To our parents who have no idea about the new world we make!" With another clang of beer mugs, the three friends swiftly downed their drinks.

Neustadt, Naggaroth

Tevil Magestalker was about to lose a fingernail from his last remaining hand. The roof below him was slippery with soot, like any other surface he had found in this industrial hell. When he tried to move up the incline on his belly as to not silhouette himself against the ever-present light he had miscalculated and slipped quite a bit. He had gotten a couple of fingers into a crevice, but this was unlikely to hold him much longer.
Swearing and ignoring the pain that flared up in his hand he raised his other arm and hammered his near-useless appendage against the roof. The blade that protruded from it pierced the wood used in its construction and fixed him much better than the hand hen had been born with. He managed to hold himself steady for the minute it took him to catch his breath. At first, he thought his hammering heart masked all sounds of Neustadt's denizens, with every passing second he realized that its industrial beat dominated even this.
Taking his time he made his way up the roof again. There were few skylights there, which was rather curious. When he had been given a tour of the warehouse the ceiling had seemed quite solid from below. What might that human hide up there and why?

Tevil Magestalker was tired, cold, hungry and hurt all over. He forgot everything about that when he got his glimpse over the window's ledge. What in Khaine's name?
The Druchii had gained a view into misery. Long lines of beds went all through a huge room like soldiers on parade. Each and every bed were taken by a form of sublife. By far the most were human, some were filled with Dawi and others were taken by more exotic beings. No matter what race they were, they had one thing in common - they were maimed to the point where they were completely useless. Some were missing limbs and appendages, others had extensive burn scars or bandages hid missing eyes. None of these slaves could have any perceivable worth past being a poor sacrifice to a minor god.

And yet they were obviously nursed and fed food that should sustain the true elven forces, receiving care that should go to the warriors. Why was this waste tolerated? A few candles burned before a cupboard redecorated into something like a shrine. The picture above it was drawn by hand and lacked artistic values. It still recognizable as Thorsten Breitkopf's face.

Despite the pain, the dirt and the exhaustion, Tevil Magestalker smiled.