Julrane clenched the spear. A firm and forceful strike was critical, both to make sure the weapon went in deep enough, and to get it in at all. The aim was critical too. Having to make multiple strikes would not only display a sloppiness she despised, it would require more time and effort. Vital as all of this was, there was only so much preparation she could justify until it slipped into procrastination.
Her strike was swift and precise. The point broke the surface easily as a needle puncturing a cloth, and the staff sunk in with an ease even she hadn’t anticipated, but the entry point was small enough for the spear to lodge itself in place and defy anyone to remove it.
With the dangerous bit stuck in the ground, the weapon was now nothing more than a pole, and Julrane had successfully put up the first frame post of what would become her new trellis.