Hadrian stood as Lieutenant Woodwick entered, returning his greeting with a sharp nod. Warren was the perfect picture of a Nevermerean soldier: seasoned, disciplined, and entirely committed to his kingdom’s cause. Hadrian was about to find out whether he had the leadership skills to back up those valuable qualities.

“I have a proposition for you,” Hadrian gestured to an open chair on the opposite side of his desk as he sat himself. “You heard of the king’s plans to form a new city on the ruins of Zulu Carr,” He paused, waiting for a nod before continuing, “As you can imagine there are a variety of logistical and political challenges—some we can anticipate, others we cannot. I’ll be taking charge of planning with input from the king and Lady Dela—Caern." Hadrian had gotten into the bad habit of referring to Kennet by her maiden name as a way to distance her from her late husband. But that was not a thing for mixed company.

"I need a point man on implementation of these efforts.” Hadrian stated bluntly. “I hope you might be such a man.”

Hadrian was certain he didn't need to highlight the dangers and rigors of such a venture. More than a few Coheedsman would be hostile to the construction of the new city. Its proximity to Dresmond would make it an initial danger but eventual asset. But this was an opportunity that didn't cross a soldier's path. Should Warren prove himself capable of such a task, this would be quite the feather in his cap.

Good. Hadrian expected nothing less from Woodwick, of course, but it was still good to have his enthusiasm for the task confirmed. With that out of the way, Hadrian shed a little bit of the formality. He sighed wearily.

“The king wants the city standing by next summer. Gives us a little less than a year to see it to completion. It’s ambitious, yes, but once we start building, it’s best we work quickly. All the more reason to have the pieces in place before we break ground.” Hadrian reached down into his desk and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. It was still a little early in the day for a drink, but that had never stopped the captain commander before. He poured two glasses and pushed one in Warren’s direction across the desk.

“The biggest nightmare will be ensuring our forces aren’t spread too thin. I’m hopeful once more women in Coheed are trained we can shift some of those forces to Zulu Carr. Or whatever we decide to call it.” Hadrian took a long sip. “First priority for you is ensuring our soldiers are in tip-top shape. I’m upping the incentives for those that enlist after their mandatory service. That will mean more greenies but,” Hadrian shrugged with a smile, “I have no doubt you can whip them into shape quickly…captain.”

Hadrian grinned as he let the meaning of his words sink it. There was a benevolent sparkle in his stormy eyes as he enjoyed one of the more satisfying parts of his job: issuing promotions. 

Hadrian smirked, shrugging a little as he took a sip of his whiskey. “I’ve been doing this for some time, Lieutenant. At some point, you stop perseverating and learn to trust your gut. The position needs to be filled, I believe you’re the one to fill it.” He leaned forward, setting his glass on the table, “There will be no announcement yet. My plan is to send you to Zulu Carr as captain formally. Until then, you’ll be acting in the role, but will retain the title of lieutenant.”

He paused, waiting for questions.

Hadrian nodded, in agreement with his assessment of priorities. With an empire stretched so thin, even lower-ranking soldiers would need to be equipped to make educated decisions on the fly. Investing in leadership skills from the top down while ensuring the chain of command was respected would be a tricky needle to thread. No doubt about it. But Nevermere’s military was a mammoth; if anyone could do such things, she could.

The name ‘Minister Ivanova’ had Hadrian chuckle and shake his head. Magda Ivanova. There were few names that elicited such mixed emotions when spoken allowed. Hadrian hadn’t had many interactions with the woman one-on-one. He trusted Kennet’s judgment when she said Magda was not entirely to be trusted, but still…Magda had served the crown dutifully for many years. Yes, her methods had been scandalous and at times downright repulsive, but he still thought she could be useful. In any case, Magda had but some strange twist of fate made herself the chieftain’s wife. That much couldn’t be overlooked.

“They haven’t yet, no,” Hadrian said, “But I’m sure they’ll find out soon enough. Perhaps it would be worthwhile for you to meet with Minister Ivanova before she leaves for Coheed. See if she has any initial…words of wisdom.”

Hadrian shrugged.

“Sometime in the next couple of days. She’s staying at the castle, I believe. She’s an…easy woman to find.” Hadrian smirked. That was understating it a tad. “In any case, I’ll send word she’s to expect you. I’m sure she’ll have opinions on the whole thing, but take them all with a grain of salt. She’s been in Coheed for a long time.”

Going native in Coheed wasn’t a problem exclusive to Magda Ivanova. Warren would know well that there’d been more than a few problems with soldiers becoming too comfortable in their occupied lands. Hadrian made a point of rotating soldiers out of Coheed regularly, lest they forget where they came from. They were out to change Coheed, after all. Not the other way around.

“No, you’re dismissed,” Hadrian stood, finishing his drink in one toss before Warren asked his question. A smile lit his eyes, one that was entirely different from anything Warren would have ever seen from his commander.

“Yes, a grandchild. Makes a man feel old, but,” He shrugged, still grinning, “If this is what it means, then it’s a pleasure to be so.”