Muscular

"I judge you to be healthy and hale. If you were not to be a squire, I admit, you would have made an admirable officer of the law here in Missionaire. Your temperament may leave something to be desired, but at least you have the look of a fighter."

It was odd to be complimented, even indirectly, by Commander Fastner, but you were emboldened to hear it. Yielding to his harsh training and turned you into a rugged sort, full of vigor and muscle. You were comfortable wearing whatever equipment granted to you, fit into armor nicely, and felt up to any physical task.

"... I imagine this will aid you both upon the battlefield and in the bedroom," the commander quipped joylessly. "Oh come now, do not blush like a babe. You are a squire. You are a seed waiting for a saintess. If we cannot talk about your duties openly, how can we expect for you to perform them? Just remember that they aren't all made of muscle, just because they're Geod's chosen. Use a gentle touch when you must."

You nodded, eager for the chance to be rid of his barbs towards his class.

"Next, let us discuss your talents."