Constable Ironside stood on the platform, his massive frame making the raised wooden structure look smaller than it actually was. The hall had gone completely silent, over two hundred young recruits holding their collective breath while this mountain of a man surveyed them with eyes that had seen more death than most of them could imagine.
"I am Constable Ironside," he rumbled, his voice carrying to every corner of the space without needing to shout. "For however long your training lasts, I own you. Your time. Your effort. Your blood. Every breath you take in this camp belongs to me until I decide you've earned the right to call yourself a dragon knight."
He paused, letting the weight of those words settle.
