Subjugation of Knowledge

A fortress requires a foundational archive. Upon the lower shelf, I discovered a haphazard mound of thick, leather-bound volumes leaning dangerously in neglected disarray. Such slovenliness cannot endure. Planted firmly before the heaviest tome, I dug my metal boots into the wooden grain and pressed my shoulder against its embossed spine. With relentless, measured exertion, I forced each volume upright against the carved oak partition. Now, perfectly perpendicular, they stand as an unyielding wall of heraldry and law under my supervision.