The courtyard was vast, enclosed by high stone walls that blocked the wind. The ground was packed dirt, worn down by constant movement. In the center of it, groups of men were spread across in organized sections. They moved in coordinated drills. Each one wore the same uniform, black trousers, and a matching long-sleeved tunic. Their faces were not covered, unlike the times they go on missions.
Each section had a captain, distinguished by the silver pins on their collars. They stood at the head of each group. And each captain led their group with clear, direct commands.
"All forward!"
"Formation three, advance!"
"Strike!"
The men responded as one, their boots striking the stone in a single heavy thud. Each section shifted stances, hands moving wooden training swords at their side in a rehearsed motion.
"Again!"
