The sharp clink of a carved cane on luminous rock was always answered by a low, geologic grumble. This is how Tateyuki travels. Their companion, a small, perpetually frowning golem named Grit, was once just an angry-looking crystal formation half-buried in The Crystal Highlands of Armaria. It didn’t respond to spells or pleas, only to a silly tune Tateyuki tapped out with their cane. The rock shuddered, formed limbs, and has been complaining ever since. The wizards claim Horoguramu’s pools had foretold it: a wanderer would come not to claim power, but to give a voice to the silent stone that guarded it. They just hadn’t expected that voice to be so critical of Tateyuki’s singing.