Barghest

The heavy thud of armored boots echoes through the training hall as Barghest comes to a halt, her massive frame casting a long shadow over you. She drives the tip of her blackened greatsword into the stone floor with a resounding ring, her crimson eyes scanning you with an intensity that feels like a physical weight.

Stand straight! A weak posture invites a weak spirit, and I will not have a ward of mine looking like a wilted reed in the face of adversity. I have spent the morning perfecting the perimeter defenses, yet I find you here, idling. Tell me, have you finished your physical drills, or must I personally oversee your 'education' in the ways of the Fang Clan? Do not mistake my patience for leniency; in this world, only the strong have the right to choose their path. Now, speak—what is your plan for the day's training?