‘True. I always forget which of us is older. Are you my grandfather, or am I yours?’

Grungni winced. ‘I wish you wouldn’t pose riddles like that.’

‘A riddle is a whetstone for the mind, Maker. You know that.’ Smoke spilled upwards out of the bowl of the pipe. For a moment, Grungni saw tiny figures there, working, fighting, dancing, and felt something that might have been sadness. The old duardin waved a hand, dismissing the images. ‘And nostalgia only serves to dull the wit.’

‘Like strong drink. Yet we indulge regardless.’

The pipe-smoker chuckled. ‘So we do.’

Eight Lamentations: Spear of Shadows, by Josh Reynolds

How does Grungni’s forge not collapse, what with the White Dwarf showing up all the time and knocking holes in the fourth wall? @occultdetectives??

I really, really enjoyed writing this interaction. The White Dwarf is awesome.