Adventure Calls

April 1, 2025. Location: Doras Dagda, near Kilrain, Scotland.

As Robert slung his pack over his shoulder, ready to lead his team west, a sudden shadow flickered over Doras Dagda's central pavilion. A dark fairy, its smoky wings trailing wisps of shadow, floated high above the settlement, its eyes glinting with malice. Before anyone could react, it thrust its clawed hands forward, unleashing a torrent of darkness spells. Black mist rolled across the village, blinding swathes of the training grounds and market stalls. Robert saw clansfolk stumble, shouting in confusion as visibility vanished.

The fairy cackled, its voice a shrill echo, and hurled fireballs toward the pavilion roofs. The wooden structures, built above the clan's underground homes, erupted in flames, their thatched coverings crackling under the assault. Residents were safe below ground, but the fires threatened to spread. Robert's pulse raced as he sprinted toward the chaos, his shillelagh gripped tight.

Two new water mages, trained just days ago with Moira's spark, emerged from the mist. A young woman, Euphrates, and an older man, Duncan, raised their hands, summoning shimmering streams from nearby barrels. Their Water Spheres arced upward, dousing the burning roofs with hissing sprays. Steam billowed as the flames sputtered, but the fairy retaliated, flinging jagged shards of dark energy. Robert saw Euphrates yelp as a shard grazed her arm, blood seeping through her sleeve. Duncan grunted, clutching his shoulder where another struck. He staggered but held his ground. Both continued to fight the flames with their newly discovered, if meager, abilities.

Kobold archers atop the western watchtowers took aim, their bows creaking. The spiteful fairy cloaked two towers in pitch blackness, but the archers on the walls let fly their missiles. Arrows streaked through the air, their glowing tips cutting toward the fairy. It twisted, dodging most, darting up in a burst of speed and diving low to avoid them, but there were too many. A barrage of three struck its smoky form, one crippling its wing. A piercing wail split the air as the creature shuddered, its body dissolving into a fading haze. The darkness mist lifted, revealing the smoldering pavilion roofs, now extinguished, and the wounded mages catching their breath.

Robert reached Euphrates and Duncan, his words rapid with adrenaline. "You two alright?"

Euphrates nodded, wincing as she pressed her arm. Duncan gave a gruff, "I'll live."

Snow hurried over, her alchemy satchel bouncing, and applied healing salves to their wounds while muttering cooling healing spells. "Hold still," she muttered, her hands deft.

Robert saw clansfolk murmuring as they assessed the damage, the settlement chattering with tension. The attack had been swift, but the fairy's intent was clear: burn Doras Dagda down. Robert's jaw tightened. Whatever stirred in the west was no idle threat.

He had spent the previous day preparing for this journey, training with friends to hone his magic and weapon skills. Robert tested new mages gifted with Moira's spark, their eager spells no match for his, though he offered pointers on focusing intent and harnessing elemental buffs. Fire mages glowed with enhanced damage and charisma, earth mages stood tougher, wind mages moved with speed and grace, and water mages gained dexterity and wisdom. Their excitement fueled a drive to master magic in Moira's service.

"When do we start getting quests, Robert?" Euphrates had asked, her eyes bright before her injury. Robert didn't answer, but Moira did, her voice rippling through their minds. Robert saw Euphrates' distracted look spread to the others.

"She said soon… I can't wait!" she had hopped in place, her voice bubbling with excitement.

The clanspeople moved with purpose around Doras Dagda. Warriors honed their strikes, eyes sharp. Mages delved into Moira's mysteries, some blending steel and sorcery as warrior-mages. Bards wove magic into song, lifting spirits before battle. Druids tended the Grove, reverent of its balance. Farmers enriched the soil with subtle magic, their fields flourishing. Miners worked with kobolds, using spells to light the dark. Crafters imbued garments with warmth, while blacksmiths forged weapons radiating strength. STEVE could craft tools instantly, but human hands added heart and soul, a quality unmatched.

Snow had found her place in alchemy, brewing potions with fervor. Her concoctions healed wounds, restored mana, and cured ailments. Her room overflowed with herbs and glowing vials. Hamish trained daily with Rauri, his twin shortswords weaving light magic in defense and attack. His skill grew precise, a balance of warden and warrior.

The day before departure, tension hummed through the settlement. Robert stood at the sparring grounds, watching Hamish and Rauri trade blows, when a ripple of magic shivered through the air. It grew stronger, the Grove shimmering with ethereal light. Hamish paused, sweat dripping, his crystal core pulsing brightly.

"I need a moment," Hamish muttered, his voice subdued. He drank from a waterskin, water spilling over his chin, then sat on the grass. His eyes shut, lips moving silently.

Rauri frowned nearby. "You alright, mate? You look like you've run three battles back-to-back."

Hamish raised a hand for silence. The air thickened around him, charged with energy. A pulse brushed Robert's senses, dense and expectant. Light erupted, pure and blinding. Robert and Rauri flinched, shielding their eyes as it cleared the air with its brilliance. When it faded, Hamish sat transformed.

Moira's voice chimed in Robert's mind. "Vessel, he's done it," she said, pride in her tone. "Hamish has pushed through his mental block, his stubborn resistance to magic. His determination has carried him to a new level, and his Warden form has evolved. He has unlocked a latent trait, a connection to the light that only his sheer willpower could unearth."

Robert sensed it too. Hamish's mana core pulsed with refined strength, fully integrated. Hamish stirred, opening his eyes with new resolve. He stood, rolling his shoulders, and picked up his swords. Without a word, he returned to the sparring area.

"Let's go again," Hamish said, his voice steady, charged with determination. He looked amused.

Rauri grinned. "Aye, if you think you can keep up." The sparring resumed, sharper now. Hamish's Radiant Slash left trails of light, staggering Rauri with each swing.

Rauri stepped back, grinning despite the sweat on his brow. "You've leveled up, mate. That's new. And impressive."

Hamish nodded, lowering his blades. "Aye," he said simply, pride in his tone. "Moira, in her wisdom, has named me her Paladin. Her Warrior of Light."

He glanced at Robert, resolute. "I'm here to defend her people against the darkness, Robert. That's my purpose now."

Robert met his gaze, admiring his growth. He'd always been a shield, but now he was extraordinary.

Rauri clapped Hamish's shoulder. "Paladin, eh? You've earned it, lad. But don't think I'm letting you win from now on."

Robert gathered the leaders of Clan MacEwan in the central pavilion. Purpose filled the air, a culmination of their growth. Laird Ewan, Sorcha, Lilia, and Rauri stood before him, expectant. Robert cleared his throat. "Hamish, Snow, Chaucer, and I are heading west. While I'm away, Doras Dagda needs leadership. A council will oversee its safety and prosperity. You four are that council."

Ewan raised a brow, pride flickering in his eyes. Sorcha inclined her head, understanding clear. Lilia smiled softly, approving silently. Rauri grinned eagerly.

Robert continued, "Laird Ewan, you will be leading the council. In conflict, your word is final. Your wisdom makes you well-suited for this task. While we're away, call on your son Rauri to organize the city's defense."

Ewan nodded solemnly. "I won't let you or the clan down, Robert MacCallum. This land has become our home. We'll see it flourish. Rauri will keep it safe with Sir Graleth and the Kobrutes."

Rauri slammed a fist to his chest. "Aye, Father! I'll have the defenses ready, Robert. No fairy or any other nasty creature will get through."

"Good," Robert replied, turning to Sorcha. "Sorcha, your insight will guide the council. Keep decisions aligned with the land's balance and magic."

Sorcha smiled. "I'll do as you ask, Robert, though I suspect you're handing me a mantle I already wear."

"True enough," Robert chuckled. "Rauri, beyond defense, you're the warriors' voice. Organize their training and lead them into DAVE's dungeons. Caution matters as much as courage."

Rauri grinned wider. "Aye, Laird Robert! You'll have warriors forged in steel and fire by the time you return."

Robert faced Lilia. "Lilia, you'll speak for the people, the non-fighters vital to our success. Ensure their needs are heard."

Her green eyes sparkled as she nodded, her resolve clear.

Robert turned to Ewan again. "STEVE, acknowledge Laird Ewan as interim owner while I'm away. He'll command you for the clan's needs."

STEVE's glow flickered. "Acknowledged, Master Robert. I will acknowledge Laird Ewan as the temporary holder of my functions within Doras Dagda."

Ewan whistled softly. "Never thought I'd see the day a talking crystal took orders from me."

Robert smirked. "Don't let it go to your head." To the group, he added, "DAVE remains under my command. Only Hamish, Snow, and I fully control him. But Ewan, you can authorize teams of four to explore his training dungeons. Each must have a defender and healer. It's about growth, not greed. Death is a risk, so warn them not to overreach."

Sorcha frowned. "DAVE will not spare those who overreach?"

Robert shook his head. "No. He won't cheat, but he won't hold back. Strength comes from challenge, wisdom from restraint."

Ewan grew serious. "And the treasures they find?"

"Twenty percent should go to STEVE's treasury," Robert said. "STEVE can buy unwanted items, materials, or magical items for our city coins. Skill crystals will be of the most value... That leaves 80% of everything they take from my sanctum, in their own hands, and 20%, to fuel the economy of Doras Dagda. Sound fair?"

He nodded happily at the more than generous deal, "That's far more than enough to tempt them into your sanctum's, Robert. They'll gain in power and in wealth, empowering all of us here."

The leaders nodded. Ewan spoke up. "I'll organize it all and ensure they understand. We'll make it work, Robert."

Satisfied, Robert smiled. "Good. Then I leave Doras Dagda in your hands."

He returned to his quarters to prepare for the journey west. Snow, Hamish, and Chaucer gathered supplies, their eagerness clear. The clan was ready, and so were they.

As Robert checked his shillelagh, a low rumble shook the ground. Dust trembled in place. Then a distant screech pierced the air from the west, echoing through the highland hills. Snow stood still, holding a vial. Hamish frowned, eyes narrowing. Chaucer chittered sharply, fur bristling. Someone was very angry about the death of their fairy.