Post by Malikan Bashar on Oct 22, 2023 15:25:25 GMT -5
Orders were being called from the training yard, noon, the perfect time to push the men the hardest. Despite how hard his father and he grilled them, or because of it, they were alert and ready. Steel steps brought the soldiers to attention in a straight line, their armor polished to a shine, their weapons clean and sharp. Studious maintenance part of their routine to keep their minds focused on the task. Taking care of their equipment was the most important duty each had in peacetime. In front the Bashar crest was proudly displayed, to remind them of who they served.
”Face.” Malikan commanded and the group turned sideways to face him, keeping good time. ”Ready.” The clang of swords being unsheathed in unison filled the yard. Discipline was paramount, drilled into the men until it was second nature, just like his father Xavier had drilled into him.
Malikan raised his hand up and then down, the line of men stepped forward, slashing their swords in a straight cut aimed across their body, and pulling back to keep distance from an imagined foe. ”Skill before strength in a single duel of blades, an overstep will kill you. In formation, strength will hold us together or break us apart,” important differences. The looks he gave the soldiers were stern yet not as cold as his father would have. He moved in front of them and adjusted the position of their knees. Sweeping one man’s leg forward to show he had the weight overextended. A few laughed, Malikan half-grinned but not for long, striding to the most vocal and directly showing him he didn’t have his weapon covering enough of his body in his guard.
These small adjustments might seem minor to the outsider. The basics had to be drilled every day until it was bred in their bone. The basics were what decided who lived and died. Whether these were new faces or old, all had a similar routine. Soon they would pair off for combat drills under the direction of his father when he returned. For now, he could give them discipline and some comradeship to structure their routine.
”Remember who we serve and why we are here.” He returned directly to the side of the family banner, so it was burned into their minds at all times. The Birthright of the Bashar, an unspoken call to attention and duty.
”Again”
”Face.” Malikan commanded and the group turned sideways to face him, keeping good time. ”Ready.” The clang of swords being unsheathed in unison filled the yard. Discipline was paramount, drilled into the men until it was second nature, just like his father Xavier had drilled into him.
Malikan raised his hand up and then down, the line of men stepped forward, slashing their swords in a straight cut aimed across their body, and pulling back to keep distance from an imagined foe. ”Skill before strength in a single duel of blades, an overstep will kill you. In formation, strength will hold us together or break us apart,” important differences. The looks he gave the soldiers were stern yet not as cold as his father would have. He moved in front of them and adjusted the position of their knees. Sweeping one man’s leg forward to show he had the weight overextended. A few laughed, Malikan half-grinned but not for long, striding to the most vocal and directly showing him he didn’t have his weapon covering enough of his body in his guard.
These small adjustments might seem minor to the outsider. The basics had to be drilled every day until it was bred in their bone. The basics were what decided who lived and died. Whether these were new faces or old, all had a similar routine. Soon they would pair off for combat drills under the direction of his father when he returned. For now, he could give them discipline and some comradeship to structure their routine.
”Remember who we serve and why we are here.” He returned directly to the side of the family banner, so it was burned into their minds at all times. The Birthright of the Bashar, an unspoken call to attention and duty.
”Again”