([color=f26522]Holden d'Alnharte[/color] (MAIN), War Room, Paline, Praelium)

Holden turned his attention to the soldier. Where his actions lacked aggression, his eyes compensated two fold. It was not a look of violence, but of cold calculation. Sizing up the possible threat. Determining how fast said thread could be dispatched. It was nothing entirely intentional, but rather something that happened out of instinct. Such tactical analysis got him this far. To abandon it now would have been foolish. 

"[color=f26522]How long have you been a soldier?[/color]" he asked, leaning back in his chair. "[color=f26522]I wouldn't say you're green. But, you don't look like you've seen a lick of combat outside of drills.[/color]" With a sigh, he stood up, and gestured to the soldier's legs. "[color=f26522]Bend your knees. You keep them completely straight like that, and you'll pass out.[/color]" 

As the door opened, Holden folded his arms over his chest, and turned his attention to the dragon born as he entered the room. "[color=f26522]I... presume you're Claudius, then.[/color]" The Exile tried his best to keep from staring, but through his entire career he had never seen such a race before. And the high Dec's stature did not help to ease the thoughts racing through his mind. "[color=f26522]That, or they sent an executioner to make a mess in the war room.[/color]" With a smirk, he offered his hand. "[color=f26522]Former Major Holden d'Alnharte.[/color]"