What mattered most when you got home? Obviously, having a meal!
Although Hogg and Lorgar had spent the whole trip as a dog and a weasel, they'd had a much better time of it than Old Man Yellow. They'd barely landed before picking up two underlings, and then the Alaitoc had pampered them, giving them a taste of the decadent, corrupt life of Eldar nobility.
But no matter how glamorous the trip had been, once they were home, they had to keep their feet on the ground. With all their good brothers here, Hogg suggested they go out for a proper feast. Everyone cheered, and he promptly led them to the Rambo Residence beside the Administrative Hall.
"Open up, Rambo! We're here to visit!"
Rambo was a Dog-man, possibly one of the most successful dogs around. When it came to motherly love, he was no worse than Guilliman, his nominal master. He had even served as Lady Euten's bodyguard, making him something of a pampered pet.
As for status, Rambo had steadily climbed the ranks. After Lady Euten sent him to Holy Terra to join the Adeptus Custodes, he'd risen to the rank of captain. He was now one of Valdor's five captains, and could at least get a word in with every Primarch.
What's more, the Rambo clan had been loyal for generations. They were a proper, blue-blooded family of Dog-men: close to home, they could suck up to the Golden Throne and play lapdog; far away, they could run off to the Brass Throne, don armor and spear, and pledge their loyalty.
Rambo had mastered both sides of the game. His quality of life was better than his master Guilliman's, and he slacked off even more than Hogg, the Dog Emperor. Through sheer ability, he'd managed to buy