The group steeled themselves for a hard fight, though the warriors were fresh, the mages had already spent some meaningful mana. Gripping their weapons, and reading their spells, they waited for the Giant to act first. And waited. And kept waiting.

“What the hell?” asked Maia. “Is it just gonna stand there looking at us?” she asked, almost disappointed.

“The last one understood Mons, didn’t it?” pointed out Orwin.

“Let’s try to be more civil this time, then,” said Chief, giving the young warrior a pointed look before he could open his big mouth.

Garner stepped forward, and waved to the metal-armor automaton, “Hello, Giant, I’m Master Garner of the Wizardly Order.”

Mons just shook his head at the ridiculous scene, and most of the others were a lot uncertain about that tack too.

But the Giant waved back. It *waved* back, almost shyly.

“Are you going to attack us, like your friend?” Garner continued, asking as if he was speaking with a child.

The creature shook its head vigorously, answering the question.

“So maybe you could lead us into the Spire?”

The golem shrugged as if it was a silly request, turned and started walking toward the imposing tower like it was no big thing. Maybe it thought it was, for all they knew. But something was really off here, they hadn’t forgotten Captain Lamart’s tale of what happened to the last wizard to visit the Spire.

“Who the hell created this golem?” muttered Mons, looking it up an down, seeing some big dents on the creature’s armor - Giant drone’s fist-size. Were the damn things fighting before they got there?

“He’s kind of cute,” opined Leanor, a spring on her step.

“Dude, didn’t you say its friend was horrible and ugly?” replied Tealdin, scratching his head.

“I didn’t ask you anything, hmph.”

“Okaaay, then.”

“I thought this would be-” Mons began saying when he was slapped in the back of the head by Chief.

“Don’t,” Chief warned before the audacious young man tempted fate again. Mons sulked the rest of the way to the Spire.

“Have you ever seen something like this, Lowa? Or heard about it, or read?” asked Garner, intrigued by the last couple of golems, the second one specially. Who created friendly golems?

“No. Both of those behaviors were weird. Golems are passionless things that just do their duty, but one was raving-mad, and the other seems to be shy now. There’s really something very weird about this Spire.”

Close besides the pair, Balmia and Valena walked side by side.

“Oh, this will be so interesting…” said Balmia, watching the approaching gate, a remarkable work of art chiseled on its stone, depicting the Lone Horseman, one of the five heroes of the Elfey Wars.

“Didn’t you say that you needed to go back earlier, Balmia?” asked Valena, teasingly.

“Er… Well… I’m sure they will get over my temporary absence - after some cursing and shouting.”

The Giant golem arrived before the door, tried to push it open, but it didn’t budge. He turned back to the group, shrugged and stepped away from the door. The mages crowded around the door, trying to understand the runes and wards carved masterfully among the Lone Horseman about to sound his Horn of Valor to summon the noblest knight-spirits to ride besides him and wipe out a monstrous Elfey warlock from the face of the Realm. Before they could analyze too much, the door started opening, and everyone stepped away from it, Valena dragging the curious apprentices.

“Beware!” She chided the teenagers. “Don’t you think you should be warier about this tower? For some reason, she’s surrounded by aggressive golems, but its gate opens as soon as we come in range.”

“You can’t get more suspicious than that,” agreed Balmia, starting to put her green-hair in a pony-tail.

“They’re right,” Garner said. “Warriors, shield up and enter, slowly. We’ll cast some defensive spells on you.”

Every mage in the party that knew how casted a Barrier or Shield spell, and the ones that didn’t, cast augmentation ones. Chief was in front, forming a wedge with Orwin and Mons behind him, shields up. Maia and the mages watched from the gateway. They could barely see anything, it seemed there was no source of light at all active at the tower. The warriors stepped into the Spire, accompanied by some mage-lights provided by Garner and Tealdin, but nothing visible happened, and the others followed them into the darkness. But suddenly, the red light of awakening golems appeared ahead of them, warning them to the danger, and the warriors successfully raised their shields to block the incoming barrage of crossbows’ bolts.

“Damn!” cursed Garner as everyone started getting slowly pushed back, the line of shields retreating under heavy fire. But then, he remembered one strange rite he’d seen once, when visiting another Spire, long ago, and tried his luck, shouting, “I claim the stewardship of the Third Spire by my rights as a Master of the Wizardly Order!”

Suddenly, the bolts stopped coming, and the archer golems powered down.

“It worked!” Tealdin observed, astonished.

Everyone was still weary of further attacks, though, so they nearly all jumped or cursed when they head clapping coming out from the interior of the Spire, and magical torchlights started lighting, revealing the gargantuan entrance of the Spire, many stairways going to god knows where - everything made of a gleaming stone that lightly reflected the light. One phantasmagorical entity descended the central stairway, clapping its hands and grinning at them.

“Shit, he does know how to make an entrance,” commented Orwin, impressed.

“Oh, I’m so happy you’re not under duress, noble Stewart. I was ready to do my utmost to free you,” the entity told him, unconvincingly at the extreme with its wide smile, full of pointy teeth. It had the features of a young man, but there was something off about it, everyone of its translucent features was a little too sharp.

“That gut looks less trustworthy than me,” muttered Mons, being shushed by his sister.

“What the hell are you?” Garner asked the question everyone wanted to know.

“Why, wise Steward, don’t you know of the Guardians of the Spires?”

“Explain,” said Garner imperiously, beginning to figure out the spirit’s purpose - and its limitations.

“I hate when your kind to that,” the being of light said, gritting its teeth. So, it can’t avoid direct questions, it’s good to know that. “I’m-, or rather, I was a powerful Warlock until your predecessors felled me. They condemned me to eternal servitude as the Guardian for my ‘crimes’.”

“A godsdamned Elfey warlock of the old kind,” said Valena, disgusted. The creature just ignored her. And people talked about necromancers - the crazed Warlocks of old were so violent and insane that they decided to wipe out villages at cities at a passing whim. Those were real monsters.

“What are your duties as the Guardian?”

“I follow the sage Steward’s command, protect the Spire from its enemies, and do the maintenance of the Spire.”

“And do you want to tell me what the hell were those golems all around you?” asked Chief, disliking the Guardian immediately. The creature ignored it.

“You’ll answer my friends’ requests. And you will warn me of anyone you detect entering the Spire, and ask my express approval to attack them,” commanded Garner, setting some ground rules.

“Very well. The last Steward told me to improve the Spire’s defense while he was away. I chose to improve the golems’ designs to do it, but it started getting a little too cluttered, so I just sent them their own way,” replied the ethereal Warlock, clearly not caring at all about the effects those golems could have had on anyone passing by.

“Don’t take *any* proactive action without consulting me first. You will make the suggestions you imagine that could be helpful, though.”

“Your wish is my command,” said the specter sarcastically.

“Yes, it is. Is there any way to turn you off?”

Scowling, it replied, “Yes, you can put me on a dormant state. But that would be foolish as no one would warn you of the traps all around the Spire, or deactivate them for you and your allies.”

“You do care about something. It’s good to know the right way to punish you.” Garner smiled, knowing that he won that round.

The Guardian remained silent at that. Everyone was looking at the exchange with wide eyes, amazed at how fast Garner had taken to the role of the Stewart, putting the Guardian on its place.

The clanking sound of the second Giant entering the entry hall made everyone turn back to look at it, and it froze like a kid caught doing something wrong.

“And what the hell is that thing?” Chief asked, scratching its beard. “One of your brilliant new inventions, specter?”

The Guardian sighed in defeat, and answered, “I tried to fiddle with one Golem’s personality, and I got that berserker that kept pounding on my gates since I expelled him from the Spire - really annoying. Then, I went the other way, and got something even worse - this useless one. It tried to keep hugging me, I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”

There was a moment of silence as people tried to digest that information - the image of that big heavy and brute pile of walking armor trying to hug a living thing might have stuck on some of the listeners with a more proactive imagination. Nobody decided to ask follow-on questions to that, though, and there was a moment of silence before Lowa cleared her throat.

“Why would anyone put you as a Guardian? Eternal servitude as a punishment is well and good, but you’re a clearly shitty host,” the old witch said, not mincing her words while she was getting dirt off her green robe, and smoothing its wrinkles. The shock wave had also done a number on her poor back, and she was supporting herself with her staff, using it like a cane. Walking was really painful.

“Probably because they needed to attune the Spires to the essence of my kind to successfully activate the banishment ritual.”

Lowa frowned at learning that information, thinking about how ruthless the Wizardly Order had been to achieve its goal. “Are there Guardians like you in every Spire?” She took over momentarily the investigation of the specter’s knowledge from Garner, who watched on in silence.

“Yes.”

“Do you know how and why that knowledge would be hidden?”

“No.”

“Speculate,” butted in Garner.

“Very well. They probably ordered the Guardians to not let anyone learn of their existence. The why would probably be because the Wizardly Order did everything in secret, not letting anyone into how they were banishing the Elfey.”

“Because if you learned that secret, of how to target specific mages and alike,” concluded Lowa, “you could try to do much worse.”

“That seems a secret best left to rot,” Balmia opined, frowning at the possibilities.

“Indeed,” agreed Garner. “Tell me, Guardian, are the bedrooms in this place in an acceptable state?”

“Yes, great Steward,” replied the creature seriously.

“I meant in an acceptable state to one of us, living folk.”

“It depends if you have allergy to dust, then.”

It was time to get settled then - after they left Romer’s crew give those rooms a good cleaning. “Orwin, take the siblings and go bring the rest of our people here, please.”

“Yes, Master Garner.”

“What facilities are in working order in the Spire, Guardian?” asked Lowa in the meantime.

“The kitchens, the prison, most bathrooms, the war-room and the messaging room - though both need a serious recharge, one of the golem factories - the berserker Giant trashed the other two.

“Are there any living or not creatures or things or anything, really, that may harm us on the Spire right now?” Garner continued.

“There are. The cats might, if you anger them - they are kind of territorial. Remarkable creatures, they remind me of myself in my living days, but in a really small scale.” Leanor looked delighted at learning that there were cats - they were the only creature she easily suffered to get in the way of her studies back at her family’s Tower. Unfortunately for her, the Spire’s cats were a lot more feral than what she was used to.

“Don’t compare those beautiful creatures to your evil self,” reproached Balmia. The Guardian held back a smile as the group didn’t realize he had answered the spirit of the question, but failed to mention anything other than the felines, that distracted them as he’d hoped.

“I don’t think he got that one wrong, treehugger,” replied Valena, oblivious to the spirit’s hidden mirth, as she reentered the hall, having left briefly to accompany Orwin and the others a bit along their way.

“Can you make sure none of my companions get hurt while exploring the Spire?” asked Garner.

“I’ll do everything in my power, glorious Steward.” Master Garner gave him a suspicious look that let him known that the wizard would hold it personally accountable for anything that went wrong. Still, the Guardian got away with another win. It was two rounds to one if he were to count - and he most assuredly was, for the devilish thing guarded scores like nobody’s business.

“I’m going to go to the message central, please come with me, Lowa, Chief can give you a hand to climb the stairs,” Garner said, noticing the witch’s discomfort. “The rest of you are free to explore, don’t get yourselves in too much trouble,” He said to Valena, Balmia and the apprentices. “Guardian, guide the others to the best bedrooms or lodgings when they arrive.”

Every other relevant matter attended to, Garner started ascending the indicated stairs to the messaging room to discover what had happened in the South and in the Realm while they were making their way to the Spire.