Caravan

March 29, 2025. Location: Robert's New Settlement at the dig site near Kilrain, Scotland. About a week after Moira's sabbatical.

Robert stood at the edge of the dig site, the morning air sharp against his face, when Moira's voice hit hard, like she'd been holding it back and it finally broke loose. "Hello Robert! Good to see you! But no time for chit chat, we're out of time. Warlock's moving in Albion, his corruption's sinking deeper. He'll strike soon, at me or even Earth itself. I really need to push you and the others to work harder at mastering your magic... Even start recruiting new mages if you can."

He exhaled hard, her urgency making his stomach churn like he'd downed a bad pint. "Uhm… Good to have you back. Been working my arse off. Got a few new tricks, as it happens."

"Aye, well, prove it," Moira said, her tone carrying a smirk that Robert could practically hear. "Show me what you've learned while I was gone."

Robert crossed his arms, his boots scuffing the dirt as he scanned the training field. STEVE was out there, his magic grinding stone and soil into sparring pits and target mounds, the low hum of his work vibrating through the ground. Kobolds swarmed nearby, yapping like kids on a field trip, their claws kicking up dust as they sniffed the air. The settlement buzzed with activity, but Moira's warning sat heavy in his chest. Earth itself was at risk, and he wasn't about to sit on his hands.

He cracked his knuckles, a crooked grin already forming. "Time to put up or shut up," he muttered, striding toward the field.

Robert stepped onto the training ground, the grass snapping under his boots like brittle twigs. He rolled his shoulders, ready to test his elemental combos, each spell a chance to sharpen his edge against the Warlock's looming threat. He started with the basics, no fancy bullshit, just raw power.

He raised his hand, and fire sparked to life in his palm, hot and hungry. With a flick, he launched a Flame Jet, a roaring stream of napalm that scorched a target dummy black, the heat stinging his knuckles. "Golly, that's a start," he said, shaking out his hand. Realizing he was still under the effects of a "No curse" curse, placed by Moira, he just sighed.

Next, he pressed both palms to the dirt, coaxing the ground to split. Earth Maw erupted, rocky jaws chomping up with a grinding crunch that shook the field. Kobolds squealed and bolted, their tails whipping as they dove behind crates. Robert smirked. "Not bad for a warm-up."

He shifted to water and air, conjuring mist that froze into jagged shards. Ice Storm rained down, stabbing the ground with a crackle that sent dust flying. The air turned sharp, biting his cheeks. "That's got some bloody bite," he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow.

Snow strolled over from the sidelines, her blue cloak swishing, eyes glinting with curiosity as she watched the water spray from his Torrent Shot soak a boulder. "Nice splash, Robert," she called, her voice steady but teasing. "But you're just tossing spells at dummies. Try hitting a moving target."

Robert raised an eyebrow, planting his hands on his hips. "You saying you want a piece of me, Snow? A sparring match?"

She grinned, stepping onto the field, her boots crunching the frost. "Darn right! Let's see if you can keep up."

The kobolds hooted from their perches, claws scraping as they leaned forward, ready for a show. Robert flexed his fingers, "Alright, let's rumble."

He opened hard, no holding back, his hands blazing with fire. Twin Flame Jets roared out, scorching the air as they surged toward Snow. She didn't flinch, her fingers tracing rapid arcs in the air. A wide ice shield snapped up, glistening under the sun, its edges jagged like broken glass. The flames slammed into it, hissing and steaming, but cracks spiderwebbed across the surface, the heat warping her defense.

Snow's eyes narrowed, and she thrust her hands forward. The shield shattered, exploding into spiked ice shards that streaked toward Robert like someone had blown apart a chandelier of knives. His pulse spiked, and he slammed his palm to the ground, raising a stone wall with a grunt. The shards thudded into the rock, some punching clean through, pelting his face with grit and stinging his eyes.

"Cheeky move," he growled, wiping grit from his face. He mimicked her trick, channeling air into his fists, then punched forward. The wall blew apart in a concussive blast, sending boulders hurtling at Snow like cannonballs. She ducked and rolled sideways, but was a little too slow. One of the blunt rocks clipped her shoulder with a dull thud.

Snow skated her hand along the dirt near Robert's feet, her fingers glowing pale blue. A patch of slick ice bloomed under him, glossy and treacherous. His boots slipped, and he crashed to his knees, pain shooting through his legs. "Bloody heck!" he barked, the crowd of kobolds cackled wildly. "I still cant cuss Moira?? REALLY?!" The only reply was her amused giggles in his mind.

Robert didn't stay down. He slapped his hands to the ice, fire jets flaring from his palms. The frost melted with a sizzle, steam curling around him as he staggered up, his knees throbbing. He glared at Snow, who was already moving, her hands weaving light and air. He beat her to it, mixing the same elements with a snarl. A lightning bolt crackled from his fist, jagged and blinding, shattering Snow's icy armor with a deafening snap. She hit the ground hard, landing on her backside with an "Oof!" that echoed across the field.

From her sprawled position, Snow thrust both hands upward, her face set with grim focus. A massive water wave surged from the dirt, laced with jagged stones like shrapnel. She scrambled to her feet, her fingers tracing sharp gestures. Just as the wave started to wash over Robert, she lost sight of him, and finalized her spell with a final sharp gesture. The wave instantly froze mid-motion, a towering wall of glittering ice. Sure that Robert was trapped inside, she snapped her fingers. The ten foot wall of ice, perfectly sculpted like a wave, exploded into a storm of razor-sharp shards, glinting in the sunlight.

The crowd roared, a 12-year-old girl in the front yelling, "Get him, Snow! You're my favorite!" Snow flashed a quick smile at her, but her eyes darted, searching for Robert. He was gone.

Robert had shielded himself inside a dome of earth and light, the shards hammering the surface like gunfire, each hit rattling his teeth. Sweat dripped down his face, his chest heaving as he held the spell, the dome glowing faintly under the barrage. With a grunt, he dropped it, blasting steam outward in a thick fog that swallowed the field. The mist made it hard for him to see, but he moved fast, circling to Snow's flank. He used his boots that enhanced his movement speed, darting very rapidly through the mist. The mist muffled his steps as repositioned to about where he determined the edge of the mist to be.

Snow spun, squinting through the haze, her hands raised for a counterspell. But it was too late. Robert lunged from the side, unleashing a wind vortex that howled like a jet engine. It lifted Snow off her feet, spinning her through the air, her cloak flapping wildly. She crashed down with a thud, rolling across the dirt, her breath coming in sharp gasps.

Robert stepped forward, grinning like he already knew the answer. "Do ya yield?" he called. The mist began to dissipate behind him.

Snow pushed herself up, her face flushed with annoyance but her eyes burning with focus. She didn't answer, just raised her hands, and claimed control of the scattered vortex. The air twisted, morphing into a tornado of icy rain and hail, glittering and lethal, the pellets slicing through the fog with whistling echoes. Robert's grin faltered, his stomach tightening. "Shucks, she's not messing around," he muttered, visibly impressed, and a bit nervous.

He didn't run. He planted his feet, drawing earth to anchor himself, the ground rumbling under his boots. Air swirled around him, deflecting the sharpest hail shards, their impacts stinging his arms. He mixed fire and air, spinning a counter-cyclone that roared to life, flames licking its edges. The opposing winds collided, the battlefield erupting in a blinding clash of light and sound.

The explosion was a deafening peal of thunder. Magic cracked apart mid-air, dissolving into streaks of fire and gold that drifted slowly over the entire practice arena. The crowd gasped, kobolds hooting and shoving for a better view, their claws scraping the watchtowers.

The light faded, leaving Robert and Snow panting, their clothes singed and soaked. Dust settled around them, the air thick with the sharp smell of charred earth and ozone. Robert's chest heaved, his hands still tingling from the spell work.

A kobold scout on the watchtower blew a horn, the sound sharp and urgent. "Movement on the road!" he cried, his voice cracking with alarm.

The kobold guards went from cheering to murmuring, glancing toward the wall. Even the kids quieted.

Robert's head snapped up, his grin gone. Snow straightened, brushing ice from her cloak, her breath still ragged. The crowd hushed, as their awe shifted to alert tension.

Robert glanced toward the gate, spotting the faint dust cloud of an approaching caravan, drawn by the magical glow that had lit up the field moments ago. He brushed soot off his chest, his jaw tightening.

"That glow's gonna bring 'em straight to our gates," he pensively muttered. "Get ready for visitors..."