The Ministry of Defense was a grandiose place, and while the Minister certainly had a place in the citadel of the military district, there was a second office within the Ministry of Defense for him to reside and use. Arkahn disliked using the office but understood it was a necessary evil. In the citadel he wouldn't be as easy to reach for most politicians as he was in the Imperial Forum. Arkahn mostly travelled between offices, the one in the citadel reserved for those who had announced their visit in advance, the office in the Forum for those who needed him without announcing themselves. The office in the Forum also proved to be a very good place to take care of the tedious work a Minister was burdened with. Budgets more often than not.
Upon approaching the door, which was constructed of a fine, heavy oak, the first notable thing would be two guards standing outside the door, both Shield-Daekins. One was an agile Quel'anthasan Elf, ageless youth making his age hard to guess, with pulled back blonde hair and twinkling green eyes. The other was a muscled Pantheri Katta, his black fur turning silver at the edges in some place, belying his age and experience, though he'd lost none of his speed or strength, and his amber eyes were constantly alert. Each held a spear and had a shortsword at their side, and wore glinting chainmail armor. Their collars and sleeves had room to designate their ranks and legions. These were none other then members of the First Legion, the Empress' Own. They stood straight and hardly wavered at all, paying attention only to any who approached the door or regarded it with interest.
The door itself was never left open, Arkahn being a man who valued his privacy, and upon it's surface read the plaque,
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Office of the Minister of Defense
Arkahn Th'alashar
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Once one stepped inside the office Arkahn's sanctuary unfolded before them. On one side of the office was a set of couches with a coffee table between them, a place for a more informal and relaxed venue. It was hardly ever used. The small cupboard next to it against the wall was a place where a few glasses and drinks could be retrieved and had. Similarly, on the left, there was a simple large table with several chairs around it where one could spread out to do research, open different maps, or have a gathering of a handful of senior officers. From the wall behind the table hung a decorated sabre which reminded Arkahn of his time with the Alyssans.
On the back wall were two windows, staggered wide, and between them a large map displaying the Empire, with several different colored pins and notes hanging from it. In the back corner once sat a chair, left there by Motito Gil'dae, which Arkahn had replaced with an armourstand. From it hung his scalemail armour and his large shield. A kopesh, sheathed in a large leather scabbard hung from a shoulderbelt from the standard.
Next to the armourstand was a smaller, unassuming door that led to his private room. Inside was a simple bed, a small armoire that contained a clean uniform and a dresser. On top of the dresser stood a washing bowl and a mirror. It was all Arkahn really needed to get by.
At the rather large oaken desk that dominated the center of the room was an equally large Tigron. The coat of his uniform closed high around his neck, orange fur errupting over it's collar if he turned his neck. His large head was a myriad of scars, something a child would see in a bad dream. His face was parted in two by a blue cloth that was tied around his diagonally, covering his left eye, or the gaping hole where it had once been. A scar that ran from his forehead down to his cheek was still visible. Both his ears were tattered and decorated with a few studs, his memory to the Malice campaign.
When he looked up he seemed to move surprisingly fluidly for a man his size. His body was large, shaped by military exercise and a the natural figure of a Tigron. He was burly without looking chissled. A man who had gotten his muscles from using them rather than training with weight. The Tigron quickly stepped to the side of his desk, his back straight, his chest out, both hands clasped behind his back.