Drill of the Vanguard

Morning mist parted across the courtyard flagstones as dawn called for discipline. I stepped down from the dais to inspect the training line, where the warriors assembled in rigid formation. Before us stood the heavy oak striking log, swung loose from its hemp cord. Stepping forward, I raised my silver trident to demonstrate the opening kata, driving the butt firmly into the flagstones with a sharp crack that silenced the ranks. Every beast aligned to my posture, grounding their stances in unison. Discipline begins with one resolute strike.