The negotiations between Talleyrand and Metternich were nothing short of legendary—equal parts business, pleasure, and creativity.
They began their discussions over a meal at the Halfling Mess Hall, enjoying the famously exquisite cooking of the Halfling chefs.
After their plates were clean, the two moved on to a table game, each pulling out miniature figurines for a skirmish-style tabletop war game.
When that concluded, Talleyrand proposed a bridge game. Metternich agreed, and they roped in Nuln's Grand Marshal Erstein and the recuperating Duke Hagen. Over bridge, the negotiations carried on.
By evening, Talleyrand had summoned four orders of Bretonnian-style seared ribeye steaks from Ryan's private kitchen (unbeknownst to Talleyrand, this kitchen was run by Morgiana herself). The pair discussed treaties while cutting into their steaks.
After the feast, they mounted horses for an impromptu night ride, talking as they trotted through the camp under the moonlight.
To conclude, Talleyrand suggested an unconventional strategy: each would hire a beautiful, blonde, blue-eyed Kislevite companion for the night. Their discussions continued into the privacy of their respective tents.
A few days later, both sides reached an agreement that satisfied their interests. The terms included the following:
The Empire would officially recognize Erengrad's new autonomous government and Vladimir's title as Grand Duke. The Empire pledged to extend logistical support to Bretonnia for another month. Both nations agreed to jointly station troops in Erengrad and formally recognized Bretonnia's loans to the city-state. To ensure the protection of Tsarina Katarin, both nations committed to rebuilding her personal guard, capping the force at 500 soldiers. These soldiers would be funded and equipped jointly by the Empire and Bretonnia, with a shared understanding that safeguarding the last Romanov bloodline was essential.
One clause humorously underscored the need to stop Katarin from "sending more troops to their deaths," lest the Romanov lineage risk complete extinction.
In addition to these terms, Ryan arranged a loan of 150,000 gold crowns to Emperor Franz, further reinforcing Bretonnia's alliance with the Empire. The two nations also finalized a massive new arms deal.
Predictably, Nuln emerged as the biggest winner. When Emilia called the Krupp family patriarch to discuss production quotas, the sheer volume of the order left him grinning from ear to ear, his eyes nearly disappearing in laughter.
While these arrangements were underway, the Space Wolf primarch, Leman Russ, arrived in Erengrad, accompanied by Vasily von Zhukov, a second son of the Elector Count of Ostermark.
Unlike his elder brother, Oleg, who had only received the trial by Morkai and a partial infusion of Russ's genetic material, Vasily had undergone all 22 genetic surgeries to become a full-fledged Space Wolf Primaris Marine. Since Oleg's death, Russ had taken Vasily under his wing, treating him as a surrogate son.
Russ even made a bold plea to the Emperor himself: "Can we skip sterilizing Vasily? The von Zhukov family needs heirs!"
The Emperor's response was curt and cold, delivered amid Magnus's vocal objections: "Just this once. It won't happen again."
Now, Russ brought Vasily to Erengrad both to ask for Ryan's help and to bid him farewell. The Wolf King explained his plan to journey to the Spine of the World Mountains, south of the Southlands, to investigate Old One ruins. Before that, however, Russ intended to visit Bretonnia for two purposes:
To meet his nephew, the young King Alexander. To confront Angron. "We have some old scores to settle," Russ growled.
"You two should find somewhere unpopulated," Ryan remarked dryly.
"I don't need your advice," Russ snapped, his tone as blunt and aggressive as ever. "Now, let's get to the matter at hand. I need you to provide 3,000 gold crowns, 300 chickens, 100 pigs, 100 sheep, and 200 sacks of bread!"
Ryan blinked, taken aback. "What for?"
"I'm organizing a festival for retired soldiers. They're heroes who defended the Old World!" Russ declared with conviction. "How can you stand by and ignore these veterans, who've lost their homeland, pensions, and food supplies?"
"They're not my subjects," Ryan countered, exasperated. "Brother, you need to use some logic. I've already ensured pensions and benefits for the Kislevite soldiers who fought alongside us. But I can't support all of Kislev. They should turn to Tsarina Katarin or Grand Duke Vladimir."
"Don't care! I gave you plenty of gold before!" Russ shot back, his imposing figure looming over Ryan. "So, are you helping or not?"
"Fine, fine, I'll help!" Ryan relented with a wry smile. He quickly realized that hosting such an event wasn't entirely without merit. A festival could strengthen Bretonnia's image as a kingdom of chivalry and further cement its reputation among Kislevites.
The supplies were swiftly arranged, and on May 9th, Erengrad held an extravagant Victory Day celebration.
The festivities included a grand military parade featuring Bretonnian troops, Imperial soldiers, and Erengrad's new militia. Ryan, Morgiana, and Emilia personally laid wreaths at a memorial for the fallen, paying respects to those who had defended the Old World.
That night, fireworks and gun salutes illuminated the ruined city's skies, orchestrated by Nuln and Bretonnian engineers. Every Kislevite veteran—whether active or retired—received a generous ration of food, a bag of bread, a cup of sweet wine, and a bonus pension payment. Veterans over 80 were personally greeted by Ryan.
The evening's highlight came when Leman Russ took the stage for a raucous performance of Wild Wolf Disco.
The Space Wolf primarch sang and danced, flanked by two chubby pandas swaying their hips to the beat. The crowd erupted in laughter and cheers as Russ led them in synchronized gestures.
"Everyone, follow my moves!"
"Left side, draw a dragon! Right side, draw a rainbow!"
"Now on your chest, make the sign of Angron! Left, right, shake your head!"
"Two fingers, like fire salamanders, point to the shining wolf's head!"
Russ's crude, outrageous humor was a perfect match for the Kislevite audience, and he quickly became one of Erengrad's favorite personalities.
As Ryan had hoped, the event's success helped sway Marshal Rokossovsky, who had been observing Ryan's actions from the sidelines. Impressed by the knight-king's integrity and commitment, Rokossovsky finally accepted Ryan's invitation to join Bretonnia's forces. He was appointed commander of the First Guard Lancer Regiment, a unit recruited from the remaining Kislevite Winged Hussars.
Rokossovsky's official letter of dismissal from Kislev arrived shortly after. The Tsarina's signature was on it, confirming his expulsion from Kislevite citizenship.
Six hundred gold crowns. That was the price Katarin had demanded from Bretonnia to sever ties with one of her finest generals.
Rokossovsky shook his head in disbelief. "Six hundred gold crowns, my Tsarina. You sold me for six hundred crowns—and threw in my citizenship for free?"
With Erengrad's affairs settled, Ryan's emissaries established contact with the dwarves of Karak Vlag. The dwarves responded enthusiastically, inviting Ryan to visit in person.
For the journey, Ryan decided on a small, informal delegation. Accompanying him would be Morgiana, Belegar's heir Prince Thorgrim Ironhammer, and Bretonnian merchant Otto Arnoux. They planned to travel via a secret subterranean river route, concealed and protected by Morgiana's magical mists.
Morgiana was thrilled to join the expedition. She eagerly packed three large trunks filled with gifts and supplies, clearly excited for the adventure.
The night before their departure, Ryan found Russ by the shores of Erengrad's vast inner lake. The two primarchs stood in silence, gazing across the water at the anchored Enterprise and Sea God Fleet.
"Heading to the Southlands again?" Ryan asked.
"It's the Allfather's command," Russ replied, hefting the Spear of the Allfather on his shoulder. "The Old Ones built many temple cities there. Most are ruins now, but some remain. The lizardmen without Slann are savage and ignorant. I'm to investigate the ruins for any surviving relics."
"Safe travels, brother," Ryan said with a nod. "It's a shame we're parting so soon after reuniting."
"We primarchs were never meant to linger together," Russ replied. "I'm not Angron, content to spend his days playing farmer."
The mention of Angron brought a smirk to Ryan's lips. "Still planning to meet him?"
"I've got a score to settle," Russ grunted.
"Just don't destroy my villages while you're at it," Ryan joked.
"Don't underestimate our control, pup," Russ retorted. "You're no match for my Wolf Guard yet—just a bit stronger in psyker abilities."
"And you think you can take Angron?" Ryan quipped.
"Won't know until I try," Russ said, rising to his feet
. "By the way, I'm leaving the pandas with Angron. The Allfather will retrieve them later."
As they spoke, Ryan's gaze fell on Russ's weapons. Aside from the Spear of the Allfather, the Wolf King carried two other armaments: the Kraken Claw on his gauntlet and a massive sword at his hip.
"That claw is the Kraken Claw, right?" Ryan asked.
"It's tasted the blood of daemons and tyranids alike," Russ said proudly, raising the weapon. "Want to feel its bite?"
"And the sword? Is it… Frostblade?"
"Yes, it's been with me for countless years," Russ replied, drawing the icy blade. The air around it grew cold as frost swirled from its edge. "Its teeth are carved from a deep-sea leviathan's stomach, and its blade can cleave Fenrisian glaciers in two."
"'Frostblade' sounds too plain," Ryan remarked with a grin. "Why not give it a more meaningful name?"
"Like what?" Russ asked, intrigued.
"How about… Frostmourne?"
Russ paused, then nodded slowly. "It has a nice ring to it. Very well—this sword shall be known as Frostmourne."
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