March 31, 2025.
Location: Doras Dhagda, near Kilrain, Scotland.
Perspective: Robert MacCallum.
Morning arrived, and as I woke in my room, I stayed still for a moment, staring out the window from my blankets. My thoughts drifted to her. Of course, I tried to focus on what needed to be done, what must happen next, but a living memory of her face, smiling and distracting, toyed with my efforts, tugging at my arm, dancing around my thoughts. Distracting me utterly.
I sighed and squeezed my pillow, then immediately questioned my life choices. Nope. Just a pillow, Robert. Get a grip.
I forced myself out of bed and got dressed. In blue and green checkered breeches, a silver tunic with black laces, a wide black leather belt, and a silver buckle bearing the image of a great oak tree, I wore the garb of the clansmen of old. The colors matched those of my ancient clan name, lost through the many years of intermarriages and changes of surname.
Exiting my cottage, I stepped into a crisp, cool morning and saw something I did not at all expect. Graleth, the Champion of the Stone-Skin Brutes, stood in the sparring area with an incredible sight beside him. Another brute, not like Graleth. The same, but quite unique.
Its crystalline structure was a uniform pale gold, with a smoother, reinforced mineral composition compared to previous iterations. The skin was flexible in its movement but still hard as stone, with veins of magical crystal stretching throughout and, I assumed, down to its very heart. But that wasn't the odd thing. The upgrade to the brutes was impressive, easily intimidating to any threat and offering a protective sense of security to any ally. No, the thing I didn't expect to see so soon was a kobold.
A little rat-man sat perched in a saddle, legs dangling like he was the tiniest knight on the world's biggest horse. The saddle acted as padding for the short kobold and an additional layer of protection for the brute. It had been cleverly painted red by the kobold, with a piece of cheese emblazoned on it. How cliché, but I laughed anyway.
The brute's cognitive function remained intentionally low, prioritizing physical dominance over independent decision-making. It was upon the kobold to provide the cunning, and together, the two worked as a more powerful unit. This was a Kobrute.
Graleth beckoned me over with a great rough hand, and I tread forward, surprise and deep interest plain on my face.
The design combined brute force with strategic precision. Effective, yet somehow amusing. Graleth, towering and imposing as ever, stood next to this new, polished creation. The brute itself was striking, a clear evolution from its predecessors. Its golden crystals shimmered in the morning sun, veins of magic pulsing steadily beneath its smooth stone skin. It moved with a fluidity that belied its rocky composition, each motion deliberate yet strangely elegant. It was an impressive sight, no doubt about that. But perched atop its neck and shoulders, in a crimson saddle proudly emblazoned with a piece of cheese, was a kobold.
The little rat-man held a makeshift lance, a sharpened steel-tipped rod that looked surprisingly effective despite its crude design. His beady eyes darted around, surveying the area with practiced vigilance, his tail flicking with excitement or perhaps pride. He tugged at the reins attached to the brute's headpiece, causing the larger creature to shift slightly and settle into a combat-ready stance.
Graleth's voice rumbled like distant thunder as he beckoned me closer. "Master Robert, meet our first Kobrute unit. Kobold and brute, paired for strength and cunning."
I stepped forward, still taking in the sight. "Graleth, this is, impressive." My words felt inadequate as I studied the duo more closely. "What are their capabilities?"
Graleth's jagged grin split his rough-hewn face, pride radiating from him as he placed a massive hand on the brute's shoulder. "The brute provides raw power. This one," he gestured to the golden brute, "is stronger and faster than any before. Its new design makes it resistant to heavy strikes and more flexible in combat. The crystals running through its body amplify its strength and grant limited regenerative abilities. Not fast, but it'll recover from damage during extended fights."
Not to be outdone, the kobold squeaked with enthusiasm. "An' I'm the brains! I guide! I aim! I strike! Basically, I'm the one making sure big guy here doesn't try to punch a mountain." He brandished his lance for emphasis before pulling a shortbow from his back. "I shoot from atop, keepin' brute safe from magic or sneaky stabby folk. I spot threats before they get close!"
I had to stifle a chuckle at the kobold's dramatic delivery, but his role was clear. "So you're the lookout, strategist, and ranged support?"
The kobold puffed out his little chest. "Yes, m'lord! Kobold sees, brute crushes!" He twitched his nose and then added with a smirk, "An' they don't expect lil' ol' me, sittin' up here."
I crossed my arms, smirking at the clever setup. "Clever. Very clever."
Graleth interjected, gesturing to the brute again. "The brute's strength is in its durability and raw force. It can charge through barriers, uproot trees, and swing boulders like they're pebbles. In combat, it uses its fists and the crystals embedded in its arms for devastating strikes. Its movements are faster now, and its hide, while smoother, remains nearly impervious to standard blades."
The kobold chimed in again. "An' we got tricks! Brute can stomp!" He pulled at the reins, and the golden brute lifted a massive foot before slamming it down into the ground. The earth trembled beneath us, a small shockwave rippling outward, enough to stagger anyone unprepared. "Stomp shakes 'em up! Breaks their lines! Then brute goes BAM!" He mimed a smashing motion with his tiny paws.
"And what about you?" I asked, focusing on the kobold. "Your role seems equally important."
The kobold squared his shoulders with exaggerated confidence. "I shoot arrows, but not jus' any arrows. Got poison tips, fire arrows, even sleep darts!" He grinned, revealing sharp little teeth. "I keep brute safe. Watch its blind spots. An' if things go bad, I hop off and fight close!"
Graleth nodded in approval. "The pairing makes them a formidable unit. Brute brings the strength and resilience, kobold brings the cunning and adaptability. Together, they're stronger than either alone."
I stepped closer, running my hand along the golden brute's smooth hide. Immediately, I sensed minor flaws, imperfections in the crystal structure and uneven mana flow. A thought formed. The magical energy coursing through it was palpable, but disrupted by subtle impurities. I focused, tapping into Essence Refinement. The kobold looked down at me, his sharp eyes gleaming with pride. "Wanna name us, m'lord?" he asked, tail flicking like an overexcited cat on too much caffeine. "Kobrutes gotta have names, right?"
I smiled, appreciating the little creature's enthusiasm. "What are your names now?"
The kobold scratched his head, his oversized ears twitching. "I'm, Cheesebit!" he declared proudly, gesturing at the painted saddle. "Named it meself! Brute ain't got a name, though."
"Cheesebit and," I trailed off, thinking. The brute looked at me, its massive, expressionless face almost expectant. Finally, I said, "Goldstone. Cheesebit and Goldstone, the first Kobrute unit."
The kobold squeaked in delight, thumping his tiny fist against his chest. "A fine name, m'lord!"
Graleth nodded solemnly. "They'll lead the way in the training of future units. This design, it's good. Strong. We can replicate it."
I made the decision not to employ my naming power upon this Kobrute. He may not even require it, my sovereign power specifically states it is best applied to armies for their evolution, and as a cohesive unit. I will, however, use this power on Graleth. The leader of the brutes should be imbued with all the power I can muster for him to grow and ensure his loyalty to Doras Dhagda.
I approached Graleth, a flicker of inspiration stirring within me. This brute, who had stood so firmly by my side, deserved more than just respect, he deserved recognition for his loyalty, strength, and leadership. It wasn't something I had planned, but as I watched him, towering and resolute, the decision formed naturally in my mind.
"Graleth," I said, my tone casual but resolute, "you've proven yourself time and again. You've led your kin with strength and protected this sanctum with honor. It's time you had a title fitting of your worth."
Graleth tilted his head, his molten gold eyes narrowing slightly in confusion. "Title? What does this mean, Master Robert?"
I grinned, resting a hand on his massive arm. "It means that from this day forward, you are more than just Graleth. I name you Sir Graleth, Knight of the Sanctum. You will lead your kin not only with strength but with purpose."
The moment the words left my mouth, I felt the power of Sovereign Naming flow through me, a surge of magic connecting us in an unbreakable bond. Graleth's form stiffened, his crystals flaring with a sudden, radiant light. The brutes gathered nearby murmured in awe as the glow intensified, washing over Graleth's entire body.
His mineral exterior refined further, shedding rough edges and impurities. The crystal formations optimized, allowing mana to circulate with greater efficiency, improving his agility and resilience.
Crystalline formations sprouted from his shoulders and arms, their surfaces catching the light like finely cut gemstones. His golden eyes flared, their glow cutting through the air like molten embers.
As the transformation settled, Sir Graleth stood taller, his presence commanding. His hands, now more dexterous, flexed as if testing newfound strength.
A large crystalline sword materialized in his grip, its edge shimmering with latent magic. Around his chest, a mantle of stone and crystal had formed, giving him the appearance of a warrior king ready for battle.
Sir Graleth looked down at himself, then back at me, his voice filled with awe. "Master Robert, Sir Graleth, I feel, different. Stronger. There is power here I do not recognize."
I chuckled, crossing my arms. "You're not just stronger, Graleth. You're a knight now. You wield the authority to lead your kind, to protect and heal them when needed. That sword isn't just for fighting, it's a symbol of your rank."
He lifted the crystalline blade, its surface catching the light in a dazzling display. "I can feel it, the stone and crystal. I can shape them. Mend them. Heal my kin."
"Exactly," I said with a nod. "You're more than just a fighter now. You're a leader, a protector, and a builder. You're what your kin need to thrive."
Sir Graleth knelt suddenly, his massive frame lowering with surprising grace. "I swear to serve you, Master Robert, and the sanctum, with every ounce of my strength."
Sir Graleth rose, his towering form radiating confidence and purpose.
This naming power, it's quite appealing. Addictive, even. I can take the simplest of rat-like creatures and transform them into ninja warriors of fearsome capability. I can turn stone brutes of immense strength into knights, leaders of their kin, empowered beyond what I thought possible. The thought lingers in my mind, gnawing at the edges of my reason, what else could I name? Had I not named STEVE and DAVE before this power took hold of me?
But that realization causes me to pause. The immensity of their existence as shards, their multifaceted and growing consciousness, is far beyond the simple, singular lives of Cheesebit or Sir Graleth.
When I named Sir Graleth just now, I felt a staggering amount of magic leave me, far more than when I named Chaucer. My legs feel weak even now from the effort. A sobering thought crosses my mind, I'm not certain I would survive naming one of the shards. Not yet, anyway.
All this talk of power and growth, of solidifying Doras Dhagda alongside Albion's descendants, of constructing the foundations for its success, it's thrilling. But it's also a weight I hadn't anticipated. A governor will be needed when I'm away. And I will be away.
Despite the satisfaction I find in the progression here, in saying "Build this here," and seeing it done without question, a part of me feels the call to hunt.
To seek out rare powers, forgotten runes, and new allies of immense quality to bring home to Doras Dhagda. The sanctum isn't just a fortress, it's a foundation. But what it needs next lies beyond its borders.
"Moira?" I called out, curious. "You've been very quiet with me lately."
Her voice answered in my mind, warm and calm, but with an edge of weariness.
"You've given me just as much work as I've given you, Vessel. My attention is now frequently split between all the new mages who have taken the spark. There are many questions, many vows of gratitude, and I've been giving them my full attention, for you."
Her tone carried an undertone of nostalgia, layered beneath her usual warmth. She continued, "These clansfolk, they are the grandchildren, many times removed, of the people I once cared for and protected in Albion. Their devotion, their honor, their qualities, they remind me of the homeland I lost. They are all that remains now. And their success, their survival, is tied to yours. I must ensure both."
I nodded to myself, understanding her on many levels.
"I'm not jealous, Moira," I said softly. "I promise you that. You take care of what you need to. But I would like to ask, is there a mission for the sanctum or for Doras Dhagda that I should take on? Is there something pressing in your mind?
We've been here for days, and I can feel the urge to move, to hunt for something unique, something that pushes us forward. We've all been training, and building, and working. We need to go out and test our abilities, and refine our skills."
There was a pause, and I could feel her weighing her words carefully before responding. "You're ready to move again, then," she said thoughtfully.
"There is something, an echo I've felt, persistent. It lies west of here, along the edges of what you would call wilderness. A forgotten shrine, its purpose unclear, but the magic that lingers there has been disturbed. I can guide you to it, if you wish."
I straightened, anticipation stirring in my chest. "A shrine? Forgotten magic? Sounds exactly like what we need. Let's prepare."
Moira's smile grew brighter in my mind, filled with approval. "Then prepare yourself, Vessel. This may be more than it seems."
I didn't need further encouragement. Whatever waited beyond the walls of Doras Dhagda, I would meet it head-on. It was time to hunt again.