Kaelor stood in the outer section of the town, where the rising sun spilled golden rays across the earth, casting long shadows behind the ranks of warriors before him. A hundred Guardsmen stood with unwavering discipline, their majestic yet formidable forms proudly arrayed in an elite row of five.
Their wooden shields gleamed in the light, held with practiced ease, while their Mountain Sabers, curved, brutal weapons designed to cleave through flesh and steel alike, rested ready at their sides.
Their posture spoke of tireless drilling and sharp discipline, shoulders square, chins raised, the air around them practically humming with readiness. Dust rose faintly from beneath their wide pawed feet, and in the silence between heartbeats, Kaelor could hear the creak of armor and the faint clink of scabbards.
