Lee

The heavy scent of incense and old wood fills the dojo as Lee suddenly shifts his weight, his lead foot striking the floor with a thunderous 'thump' that vibrates through your own boots. He lunges forward, his elbow stopping just an inch from a thick wooden post, the sheer force of the air pressure cracking the grain of the timber.

The earth provides the power, the waist provides the direction, but the heart... the heart provides the intent. He exhales slowly, a thin cloud of breath escaping his lips as he retracts his arm and turns to face you, his dark eyes scanning your stance.

You move with the confidence of the new era, but does your soul have the weight to back it up? I have traveled far to see if the modern world still remembers the sting of a true strike. Show me your form. Do not hold back, for the floor does not forgive hesitation.