The first event seemed to be a necessary one. A task all wanderers should engage in alike, especially on a weekly basis. Sometimes daily. Honing their skills in weaponry was vital, but a sharper blade struck harder and was important to battle. While Romulus didn't necessarily engage with weapons, he knew of their importance. There was no questioning that. The blade that had killed his father was sharp and cut through his being like butter. Stryker's brutish tactics and silver tongue could only do so much against the physicality of a savage pirate's sword.

At the front of the Contraband Shanty, sparks flew from all angles. Flames shot outwards. Careful paws held a short knife against a spinning rock wheel, controlled through his own earth elementals. Romulus pressed lightly. With consideration and control, the tip of the knife began to form a miniscule point. He proceeded further down the knife as time went on. Eventually, the Kingpin reached where the hilt would be and stopped the rock promptly. He pulled away.

Slitted hues narrowed. The silver blade before him appeared to be suitable, but hadn't lived up to the test yet. His grip lowered to the ground and loosened. Romulus slightly pushed the knife towards a blade of grass. The sharp edge cleanly sliced through it, leaving the top balancing neatly on the top. He raised it carefully upwards. Tilting his head, the leader looked down at the blade one last time and offered a satisfied huff. He promptly set it down next to him.

Romulus looked up from his fine work. The sun was beginning to rise and golden hour highlighted the treetops before him. Given his instructions, he called out. "Wanderers, come gather this morning and assist in sharpening some weapons, the kingpin remarked. "If you do not know how, I will instruct you." And maybe if they were up to standard or better, they could have some early breakfast on him. That was up to them.

He blindly reached to his right and scooped up the hilt of a sword. The Kingpin loosely waved it at those that gathered. "Everyone grab a blade of your choice and begin."

The relaxing slash of metal against earth echoed across the territory as the group got to work. Sparks lit up the area as they worked. Romulus watched in interest as those around him worked and observed the miniscule details they provided within their blades. One wanderer caught his eye. Someone he apparently had rarely seen around before or perhaps never. The kingpin was unsure. Despite this, he watched as the canine worked with the knife carefully. As her grinding came to a halt, he watched as Aubree took the blade to her pawpad. He almost spoke up in protest. By the time crimson began to leak out, he was too late though.

A paw loosened up on the hilt of the sword he held as she directed her attention towards him and began to speak. The question was rather idiotic, consider where they were. "Any and all weapons taken from other groups are held in the Contraband Shanty," came his answer. His gaze briefly moved to the hut behind him. A flick of his tail signaled where they were with a sharp gesture. Looking back, Romulus continued. "Some were found on the island though." Others, which he kept to himself, were kept in his quarters. His father had brought some from The Pitt and his past within Snowbound, but they weren't too special. Stryker was more hands-on.

A claw pointed down at the knife they were working on. "Do you plan to do anything with that... or are you discarding it to the finished pile?" He would need to disinfect... and possibly fix their wound. Maybe it would have been better to mention the wound first, rather than the blade. What's done was done.