Every new day here seemed longer and longer. Kennet had assured him the King "felt for their cause deeply," whatever that was supposed to mean. To him, it sounded as if they would receive his help eventually. He just hoped that eventually came sooner rather than later.

He never traveled very far from the castle, afraid of being away when some sort of important news would arise, so he was quite easy for the soldiers to find and escort to the room. He followed along quietly, Rune trotting along dutifully at his feet. The soldier paused and knocked, introducing Zevran by name to someone inside the room.

He entered cautiously, his gaze first landing on the man standing behind a table. Military, certainly, but more than the average soldier Zevran saw around every day. This man was someone important. Then he looked down to the table, noting the map that lay upon it and the various kingdom names written on it. His eyes hovered on Dresmond's name before he looked up to the man again.

"You wanted to speak with me, sir?" The formal greetings and titles came more easily to him now and allowed him a bit more confidence when speaking with strangers here.

Hadrian was a politician by necessity, not by nature. The role of captain commander involved very little soldiering and more politicking than he would like, but his current task seemed to be a far balance of both. Yes, this particular pursuit was political but the tools were ones that Hadrian was all too familiar with.

“Zevran, I presume,” Hadrian said with an efficient air and a welcoming smile. He’d hold out his hand to the man, shaking it firmly if it was accepted. “Hadrian Usher, captain commander of Nevermere’s forces. Seems you’ve found yourself a long way from home.”

They were on the same side now. As far as Hadrian was concerned, Zevran would receive the same respect and dedication from him as any of his Nevermerean brothers—or sisters—in arms.

Nodding in greeting, Zevran motioned down at Rune. "I am, yes. And this is Rune." Then he stepped forward, shaking Hadrian's hand. Captain commander did indeed sound very important. Just another title for Zevran to file away in his mind and try to remember.

"And yes, we are definitely far from home, but hopefully our time away will be worth it." He attempted a small smile and took a step back, looking at the table again. "So... I assume you have questions about Dresmond?" He couldn't think of any other reasons a man this high up in their military would want to speak with him.

Hadrian nodded at the fox, though a little awkwardly. This was the first time he’d interacted with a Dresmondi and their dyr, so understandably the whole thing was a little confusing. Animals in Nevermere were exactly what they appeared to be: animals. The idea that there was a being within the fur and fangs with complex thoughts and emotions was surprisingly unsettling.

“More than a few,” Hadrian said with a warm smile, “If you’ll join me…” He went back to the map, leaning forward with his knuckles on the table. For a moment, the commander was silent before he asked: “So tell me, where exactly is Elderkeep located?”

Zevran followed Hadrian to the table, his eyes resting uncertainly on the map. They widened slightly at Hadrian's question and he looked between the man and the map a few times.

"Um..." He leaned down over the map, attempting to make any sort of sense of the markings and images. Rune, wanting to take a look for herself, hopped up on the table to peer down at the map. For once, she was even less useful than Zevran was. Grimacing, he reached out and tapped a finger on a spot on the map.

"I... don't know. But Dresmond is predominantly flat, except for where our Cave of Names is. So if these hills indicated here are our Cave of Names, then Elderkeep would be..." His eyes jumped around the map, his frown deepening. "It would be somewhere close by. We were easily able to walk from it to the Cave of Names for their Tribute."

He turned his attention back to Hadrian. "I'm sorry I don't have a better answer. Stationary locations aren't really Dresmond's strong point. Maybe if you asked Alys or Grant, the two soldiers who brought us back here, they may be able to give you a more precise location."

Hadrian watched the Dresmondi with keen interest. Claiming lands was no small feat, but nothing compared to the enormous task of conquering them. They’d learned in both Coheed and Cambria that culture couldn’t be forced; it had to be fed, bit by bit until the person was so used to the taste they’d forgotten that it was poison to kill what once was theirs. Dresmond, he supposed, would be similar. But there would be time to ponder that later. For now, he saw the Dresmondi’s uncertainty, and Hadrian thought the best course of action was to put him at ease.

“That’ll do well enough,” Hadrian nodded, placing a marker on the map and brushing his hands. “Please have a seat,” He sighed, changing tack. If Zevran sat, he’d sit and smile warmly at the man across from him.

“Tell me about the Eldouir.” It was an open invitation, without demands or expectations.

When Hadrian seemed satisfied enough by his answer, Zevran allowed himself to relax a bit. He knew if it came to it, he could lead them back to the city himself from the Dresmond border. He just wasn't sure of the distance when looking at the paper map.

He followed the instructions given to him, taking the seat and relaxing back into it as Hadrian sat across from him. Rune saw fit to remain on the table, laying down so that she could observe the conversation between the two men.

Zevran took a moment to contemplate what to say about the Eldouirs. This was the Captain Commander of Nevermere's military. He didn't need to know about the cruelties the Eldouirs inflicted on the Dresmondi. Zevran couldn't guess if he would care or not, but it wasn't what the man needed. He'd want to know what to expect from a military standpoint.

Tapping his fingers lightly against thigh, Zevran finally answered, "They're very powerful, even as individuals. They outmatched our dyrs who possessed the exact same abilities as them. I think it's because they truly fear nothing. They believe they can do whatever, take whatever, and then take care of any consequences afterwards. They hold nothing back."

He paused, glancing at Hadrian before continuing again. "But it's not just them anymore. They took our warriors and made them their own. I don't know how, but they serve the Eldouirs unflinchingly now. They have taken all children they could get their hands on over the past years as well to raise them up to serve in this military."

Hadrian nodded, listening intently. Yes, the Eldouirs were not to be underestimated—no matter how powerful witch magic may be. They’d made fools of them at the trial in Lorendale, though how much of that was do to lack of preparation and not lack of power was difficult to say. Regardless, they were an enemy that Nevermere would extinguish—of that, Hadrian had no doubt. If for no other reason than failure was not an option.

He would quiz Zevran with more questions, no doubt exhausting the Dresmondi who had not too long ago made the longest journey of his life. After Zevran’s lasts answer was given, Hadrian was silent for a moment, pensive before sighing with finality.

“Care for a drink, sir?” Hadrian wasn’t sure what to call the man, but he hesitated to go strait to a first name basis. Nevermere had its own customs, and Hadrian would honor them, even to a visitor.

At some point Zevran had slumped back in his chair. Recounting the many horrors of the Eldouirs and Elderkeep was exhausting and he had ensured no detail was spared for the military commander. He wanted Hadrian to know the ins and outs of the situation they were marching into, wanted them to have any edge over the enemy that he could offer.

But it drained him to his very core. Especially knowing that while he was here, with a warm bed and a full belly, his friends were all still suffering. How much longer would he have to wait and they have to suffer?

At some point Rune had curled up into a ball under his feet and now napped, her own energy draining with his. He glanced down at her before meeting Hadrian's gaze again, nodding an answer. "Yeah, I could definitely use a drink. Thank you."

He'd accept whatever was offered him, taking a long sip before waving a hand idly. "And just call me Zevran, please. No one has ever called me 'sir.'" A small smile played about his lips, amused at the term offered to him. He supposed he should feel pleased that the commander would offer that respect to him.

Taking another long sip from his drink, he looked over at Hadrian, studying the man again. "How long do you think it'll be until we can go to Dresmond?" he asked quietly.

“Zevran it is, then.”

Hadrian poured them both a whiskey, returning to the table and sliding the glass over to him. The commander glanced at the fox sleeping at Zevran’s feet. The Dresmondi were such a peculiar bunch. Charming, in their own way. Drawing his eyes back up to Zevran, he sighed before taking a long draw from his glass.

“I’d say it's some weeks yet before we’re ready. The Eldouir, as you said, are not to be underestimated. If we go in half-cocked we could do your people more harm than good.”

Zevran's lips thinned into a grim line, but he nodded in response. He understood well enough that Hadrian was correct, but that didn't mean he liked the answer. "Of course, that makes sense."

He sat back, taking a sip of the amber liquid and enjoying the burn that slid down his throat. "I am grateful the King decided to help us at all, I'm just anxious to get back and help my people." He stared at the glass, toying with the rim of it.

"It will certainly be a tricky fight. You'll have to fight Dresmondi until they realize you're there to help. Only then will they fight with you instead of against you. And even then, some will never fight with you."

Hadrian nodded slowly. He’d seen Nevermere through many a season, but there hadn’t been one of them in which he wasn’t sure of its citizens’ safety. The only comparison he could draw was the heavy responsibility he felt for his soldiers; the one that kept him up nights when the risk was greatest. To have one’s whole people oppressed—women and children at the mercy of tyrants like the Eldouirs—would be almost unbearable.

“And what would you have us do with those that won’t give up arms?” Hadrian asked. Clearly there were many that had aligned themselves with the Eldouirs by necessity, but would some really continue to fight even when it was clear their liberation was at hand?

He continued staring into his glass while contemplating Hadrian's question. When he had decided to take matters into his own hands, he had not thought about the consequences of that decision. That he could be in this situation right now, deciding what people's lives were worth. He had wanted to save as many as possible... all of them, if he could. But the rules had changed now, and his convictions had to change with them.

He lifted his shoulders slightly, "Whatever you must. Some are just too broken to help at this point. It would only put your people in more danger to try to save them." He knew that he, too, would have to come to terms with taking the lives of other Dresmondi and their dyrs. He just had to figure out how to come out on the other side of all of this with his sanity still in tact.

He downed the rest of the whiskey before setting the glass lightly on the table, "If we're going to be here for awhile, could I... Well, would it be possible for me to train with your soldiers? I have more experience making weapons than using them in combat and I would like for that to change."