Leman Russ's Anecdotes, Part 1

Yes, the process did not matter.

If Guilliman could have heard that sentence, he probably would have agreed—but he would likely have agreed with only half of it, and then added a few rigorous qualifiers.

Sometimes, the process did not matter, as long as the goal was achieved.

"I disagree."

Guilliman flatly rejected the proposal from his brother, his tone utterly firm. "There is no way you can swagger back up to Terra Space Station at a time like this, Russ."

"Why not?" Leman Russ looked utterly incredulous. "I've already been there seven or eight times!"

".What did you say?"

"No, I mean, I've been there a few times—fine, maybe more than a few—but that's not the point. Why can't I go?"

Guilliman stared at him for a long while before speaking again.

"Because there are many warriors there who have come to take part in the Vengeance Crusade. What exactly do you intend by going up there now? Let them see a stranger taller than they are, draped in furs, and wearing Fenrisian ornaments? How about this—I'll give you a suggestion. When you're discovered, just say you're Rogal Dorn."

"I want to go drink some alcohol," Russ answered honestly. "That's it. Also, I refuse to call myself Dorn, even as a disguise."

".What is wrong with you? It's only been a few days and you already can't hold back—no, I already had twelve barrels of alcohol sent over to you. It has only been a few days. You finished them?"

The Wolf King of Fenris nodded with what looked like simple honesty, and even grinned shamelessly, baring his teeth. Guilliman immediately felt his blood pressure begin to surge.

He took a deep breath before continuing. "Then endure it. There will be no alcohol supply. Don't even think about