Flatland Militia Conscript

Members of Skygarde's army that monitors the Great Plateau outside of the city walls.   They slog through muddy flats at dawn, clad in simple leather and worn spears, the horizon smudged by sky and mist. The Conscript is not a born soldier—no long years of training, no silk banners fluttering at their backs—but they are needed. When Skygarde’s walls tremble with threat, these conscripts fill the ranks: hold walls, plug breaches, stand firm under arrows.   Nerves tight, hands trembling, they brace at the wall’s edge when siege-engines roar—because though they’re many, they know: courage doesn’t come from shinier armour or finer blades, but from staying in line when fear screams.