He still remembered when the IVth Legion, taken over by the young Noah van Gabranth in his father's stead, had finally managed to overtake Dalmasca after months of war with the natives there. It was a time of awe, followed almost immediately by celebration; after the failed march across the Burn and into the Nagxia region, the measure of the Empire's reach had been called into question, even with all of their then-new Magitek advancements.
At that time, House Cinna had been surprisingly supportive of the IVth and their efforts, and had the utmost respect for Legatus Gabranth. He was, after all, so young, and it made his resilience and strength -- both physical and of character -- that much more impressive to Quintus in particular.
But that seemed ages ago now. Times had changed, and even with Emperor Solus's favor still in place, the perception of the IVth had shifted to one of questioning and uncertainty with regards to their competence. They had always suffered setbacks in maintaining their hold upon the territory of Dalmasca, but it was the Barheim Incident that really highlighted their difficulty in curbing the resistance forces. And without the two regions of Dalmasca under Garlean thumb, how could they hope to contend with the resistance forces in Nagxia as well?
Having to call upon the XIVth Legion for aid was not the most flattering of situations to find themselves in, and the overwhelming number of casualties on their side was... well, not good, to put it gentlest. On top of the strategic significance of their position there in relation to Nagxia, it was also a key point of trade between Othard and Ilsabard, making its presence under Garlean rule invaluable for transferring supplies.
Perhaps all of this was why the Ist's commander was watching with idle fascination as the newest batch of IVth Legion troops were preparing to leave again for Dalmasca. He wondered how many were prepared for what awaited them, and how many would come back alive, grim as it were to think about? It was no secret that a good number of the IVth's troops were conscripted from questionable locales and situations. Did they truly know what they were fighting for, or were they gloryhounds trying to, foolishly, make names for themselves as Noah had done so many years ago?
Or... perhaps they had different motives entirely?
One soldier in particular continued to hold his eye. Not out of suspicion necessarily, but curiosity moreso. Noah van Gabranth's friend and confidant: Menenius rem Lanatus, son of Lucius, reclaimer of House Lanatus's lost favor in the eyes of the emperor. Quintus knew a fair bit about him from Emperor Solus, from what he had overheard in the presence of Solus and the Senate, and of course what he had heard through the grapevine, so to speak. And yet never had he formally met the younger man.
Not until this moment, anyway. With arms folded across his chest, and his usual stern countenance writ plainly, he finally approached the high-ranking officer.
"Menenius rem Lanatus," was the simple, brusque greeting, spoken just loud enough to be audible above the surrounding chatter.
