Of course, it is not always the fault of the lesser races that things go wrong. Much of the time, there is someone else to blame: your fellow Skaven. After all, if something does go wrong, it can’t be your fault, because you are the greatest Skaven who has ever lived. The only other explanation, then, is that one of your superiors or inferiors is working against you. Any setback, therefore, may start a Skaven into a long and detailed whine about how the cause of this and every other problem is his Skaven enemies. If a squad is routed, it is the fault of the Clanrats’ cowardice, or the cheating Pawleader from whom they were purchased. If a tunnelling party getslost, it is the fault of the foolish Lords of Decay for providing a poor map in an attempt to lead you to your doom. If it rains too much, or the wells dry up, or it is too hot, or too cold, it is the fault of meddling Grey Seers, trying to crush your spiritwith black magic. Everything is a plot, a scheme designed by your legion of enemies, for the sole goal of hurting you, personally. If things were fair, if things were different, if only your enemies’ bones were dust beneath your feet and their servants your slaves, if you were in charge of running things, if you didn’t have to deal with all the other stupid, weak and duplicitous Skaven that surround you . . . if all of those things were the case, then nothing would ever go wrong, and none of whatever trouble you’re in would ever have happened.