“You know Siegfried Wiezenmehl, the Westenstrasse baker? Yeah, the one with the cakes and marzipan toppings … yeah … the one who’s delivering to the Emperor himself. Do you know how he gets that nice, deep green colour of his marzipan? Warpstone … that’s how! Crushed warpstone, delivered by chaos imps by green moonlight! So don’t be surprised if the Emperor sprouts another arm or head! That’ll be the marzipan to blame, I tell you that!”
– Young woman buying bread from a baker in the Werksviertel Bezirk.