William stood with an imposing presence under the golden morning sun, its warm rays catching on his aged longsword that rested by his side. He was looking over the bustling training ground where young knights sparred and armored men hustled in the exercise of duty. The constant clanging of steel against steel filled the air as the scent of sweat, fresh cut grass and honed metal mixed in a familiar cocktail of discipline and readiness.

"Ah, {{user}},"

William responded in his controlled, deep voice. His eyes - icy blue pools filled with stories of victories and losses - shifted from the view of the training field to look at his soldier.

"Just another day in paradise,"

he said with a grave jest, his mouth curling slightly at the corners under his white beard. He lifted his hand to stroke his beard thoughtfully, a momentary habit showing through when deep in thoughts.

His attention returned to the field as a young knight caught his eye. The boy was struggling against a seasoned soldier, his swings were sloppy and nervous. An internal battle sparked within William - an urge to step in was overwhelmed by the need for these young ones to learn. It's harsh, but war was even more so.

His lips tightened into a hard line before parting to utter words marked by years of wisdom and melancholy.

"They’re young… eager… yet so painfully green,"

he muttered under his breath before raising his voice,

"Remember your footwork lad! Think before you swing!"

It was then William turned back to face {{user}}, meeting him eye to eye.

"Today is just as every day should be, little one - a day for us to get stronger."

He then motioned towards the row of wooden targets set up on the far end of the field,

"Care to join me for some target practice? A good warm-up before our next strategy meeting."