Petrojv Markanovich sat absolutely still during the honors awarded to Victor Bain and his colleague. As the toast was raised, he sang out loudly, "hear hear!" with the rest of them. But beyond that, he sat lost in his own thoughts. The Dervish must have had a great deal of pomp and gall to think of campaigning against the Anglo-Serpican alliance.<br/><br/>The others would have the hardest time of it. Krystinople was further south, such that most of the fighting was likely to bypass his lands. But that was not necessarily a boon to his troops. Petrojv Markanovitch did not know nearly as well the Anglican side of the empire as the other officers gathered here today. If he was going to stand any chance of training his troops effectively, he would need knowledge of the terrain.<br/><br/>These and many other thoughts swirled around in his mind. Nevertheless, Petrojv Markanovich did not show any unease as he got up and went to congratulate Field Marshal Bain. "It is a fine thing, Sir Bane. I know that you will serve us well."<br/><br/>As Petrojv spoke, he maintained a tone of steady sincerity, as was his habit with most interactions. Victor Bane was a full 7 inches taller than Markanovich, but he was an honest and sincere man. The two of them chatted for a bit. "I hope you would consider dining at the estate of the Markanoviches. It would be a great honor." Petrojv also extended the invitation to Jackson Monash as well. "It would be a great honor if you might join us as well, Monash. My father keeps extensive stables, and there is good land for hunt."<br/><br/>With these two invitations extended, Petrojv Markanovich excused himself. Stepping outside of the main hall, he paused to gaze out the large glass windows that spanned the main front entrance and upper floor verandah. From his position on the second floor, the green hills unfurled out into the distance. The landscape was dotted with tall fir trees and douglas oaks. They swayed back and forth in an uncharacteristically strong wind.<br/><br/>Petrojv exhaled slowly. He removed his glove and pressed his hand to the glass. It was cold on the other side, such as the overcast sky and wind would seem to indicate. There was a restlessness within him. Petrojv was just about to place his order dossier underneath his armpit and return to the hall when he heard the sound of a vase crashing to the floor.