Another musclebound fantasy (patent pending) for  iracrowe, this one following a tribe of the Adalamar, or golem-men/golah, as they rally around their new Wakener, Yune, a scholar with the ability to bring new members of their race to life. Now, we turn our attention to Cuhldar, a steel golah with far more muscle and strength than brains, but at least his heart is in the right place.

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Characters ©  iracrowe
Story © c'est moi

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Cuhldar was left crossing his powerful arms, fuming. Who was this Bardon and why was the Wakener so interested in him, when the ice-golem wasn’t even as muscular as him? So much had happened in Cuhldar’s tribe in just a few days, and the steel-forged titan was having a little trouble processing it all; thinking was not his strong suit, after all. In a few months, the tribe’s old Wakener, Cuhldar’s father, had died. Then, as the youngest, he had to follow all the other golah of the tribe to a land that was supposed to be the tribe’s homeland, but Cuhldar had never seen. Finally, in just a few days, they had found their new Wakener, a slight but pretty woman named Yune. Cuhldar liked her, and he hoped she liked him. But then, she left in the middle of selecting the tribe’s next chief, which should obviously be him, Cuhldar thought, but now she came back with a new baby brother?

Cuhldar didn’t like this at all.

Yune, on the other hand, was starting to feel better for the first time since the golah, or the Adalamar, the golem-men, had declared her their Wakener. It was a bittersweet time in her life, and the bitterness had, so far, outweighed the sweet. Her village had been attacked by bandits, her home destroyed, and her lover, Bardon, slaughtered. She had lost everything, save for a few precious books. But then, the golah found her. Just like that, creatures of myth and legend, immensely strong and powerful titans carved out of the elements of nature like stone, wood, metal, and ice, had declared her their Wakener; a sort of spiritual leader responsible for shaping new golah and giving the tribe life. They had uncovered a power in Yune she had never known, and she had used it so far to, in a sense, bring Bardon back to her. She found a new golah in a block of ice, and used her new powers to shape him like her lost love, down to his chiselled looks and flowing mane of hair. ...And his thick, muscular body.

That was the other noticeable characteristic of the golah; they were all roped with bulging, powerful muscle. The golah were creatures of immense strength, and under the right Wakener, legends said they were hailed as heroes or feared as the enforcers of would-be conquerors. Yune was just a village apothecary; she didn’t know what she could possibly do with a tribe, far less for them.

Right now, though, most of the tribe were glad to welcome their new brother. The iceborn Bardon looked like he could blush from all this attention; he was essentially an infant not a day old.

“Adala!” Gorack declared, hailing Bardon as his brother. The stone-carved golah, with a hulking, brutish build and glowing red eyes, appeared intimidating to most, not helped by his inability to speak in any tongue either than the ancient speech of his people. His true nature, however, was revealed as he swung his heavy arms around the ice golah, hitting Bardon like a rockslide.

“Th-thank you, brother Gorack,” Bardon said softly.

“He is finely made,” Khorag, the first golah to find Yune, declared. A golah made out of living wood, his powerful, oaken torso and carved face was adorned with moss and leaves, mimicking body hair and a full beard. He looked over Bardon appraisingly, from his round, swollen biceps to his shimmering, snow-crowned head, with icicles mimicking flowing locks of hair. “There’s so much artistry in him.” He turned to Yune, bowing his head softly. “Were that you were around when I was made, Wakener. I feel… roughly hewn in comparison.”

Yune chuckled good naturedly. “Khorag, you’re too strong to chisel. Any tool would break on your strong, solid body.”

“Well,” Khorag brightened up considerably, holding his head higher. “If you say it, Wakener, we know it to be true.”

“Can we get on with the business at hand?” Cuhldar suddenly snapped. The metal warrior was close to pouting. “We still need a new chief.”

“A new chief?” Bardon brightened at that, his eyes sparkling with childlike innocence. He turned to Yune. “Could I be that? It sounds fun!”

“No!” the metal golah loudly declared. “You can’t just be chief so soon after being born! Stupid.”

Vortok, the oldest of the tribe, arched his brow. “What Cuhldar means, Bardon, is merely that you are not prepared; you have much to learn. But one day, you may be chief.”

“Oh,” Bardon seemed saddened; not so much by the news, but by one of his brothers already calling him names. “Alright. I’m sorry.”

Lingering eyes on Cuhldar, and Bardon’s own hurt expression, tugged at him. Clearing his throat, he stepped forward, offering his hand. “I… I’m sorry, Bardon, I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way. You’re not stupid.” He offered a crooked grin, then held out his arms. “You’re a brother.”

Bardon returned the grin, and the two hugged it out, finely wrought steel arms, creaking with power as Cuhldar couldn’t help but flex to show how much bigger his arms were when Yune was watching, grinding against the crystalline, pure blue ice of Bardon’s muscular frame.

The tribe seemed to accept Cuhldar’s apology, and Bardon was fully welcomed. Now, Cuhldar and Vortok stood in the center of the tribe’s circle, with Yune appraising them both; in electing a new chief, the tribe was split right down the middle. Vortok, the crystal-carved golah, rough-hewn, but still tall, grand, and vast in frame, was the oldest and regarded as wisest of the tribe. Cuhldar was their mightiest warrior, and had taken it upon himself to protect the tribe from threats during their perilous journey to find the new Wakener; his valor and strength were beyond reproach.

For his part, Cuhldar did everything he could to catch Yune’s eye. Vortok may sparkle with every color when the light caught him, but Cuhldar could tell Yune found his form, already so close to a human’s muscles, pleased her. While they both made their cases to be the tribe, the steel golem was distracted, flexing hard enough to pump his muscles and make his metal skin creak, all for Yune’s benefit.

Unfortunately, Yune did not have a vote. Cuhldar realized this shortly after he and Vortok knelt before Yune, waiting for her blessing as the rest of the golah shouted for one candidate or the other.

The Wakener took a quick count of the votes, and placed her hand on Vortok’s head. “Northwind Tribe, your new chief, Vortok! May he lead with wisdom and strength,” Yune recited, if haltingly; she wasn’t entirely used to this sort of ceremony or pomp. As the crystal golem towered over her, she looked up to his sharp, jagged face. “What is your first order as chief?”

Vortok’s movement and temperament was well-practiced, as he had served as chief before. He grinned softly, offering his hand to Cuhldar; by tradition, the first member of the tribe to recognize the new chief was his opponent.

Cuhldar hid his grimace, taking Vortok’s hand. He hadn’t any particular problem with Vortok; if he was ever honest with himself, he would probably say his crystalline brother was a better leader, anyways. But the tribe’s Chief spent the most time with the Wakener, partners, in a way. He had really looked forward to that… “My chief,” he offered plaintively.

Vortok clapped the younger golah on the shoulder in a paternal fashion before turning to the assembled tribe. “We must move on. Now that we have found our Wakener, our tribe is whole again. This mountain hideout was never meant for more than a defensive fallback; a time of crisis. Let us move on to greener fields and cities, to find work and food for our Wakener.”

Yune nodded. “The city of Occamburg is a few days’ journey. Since High King Johannes incorporated the city into Perelania a year ago, there’s lots of work to be had. It’s got iron mines and quarries, surrounded by rich forests, so if there’s any golah to be found in the region…”

“Then we go to Occamburg!” Vortok announced. The tribe thumped their chests in salute, and busily began to break camp.

Cuhldar moved to help Yune pack, but the cave she had been sleeping in was crowded by Khorag and Gorack; the two already took up the entrance, they were so big. His broad shoulders drooping, Cuhldar’s glowing, ember-like eyes settled on Bardon. His ice-made brother was trailing off, walking down the mountain path. The steel titan felt a certain responsibility; he was the youngest of his brothers, and chief or no, he was still the tribe’s protector.

He followed the child-like golah down to a small clearing amongst the tall evergreens that clung to the mountainside, one ringed with blue roses. Cuhldar knew this place; on the Wakener’s orders, they had buried a human she had known here. Bardon seemed fixated, a slight frown cracking the ice and snow that made up his face.

“Adala?” Cuhldar asked. “Are you alright?”

Bardon scanned the area for a moment before answering. “I… know this place. The Wakener came here once.” He turned to Cuhldar. “Is that normal? To have memories of places I’ve never been?”

Cuhldar shifted uncomfortably. He remembered his first memory; fire. Lots of fire, and pain. Broken spears and tattered banners, soil red with blood. “It… happens. You should ask one of the others. I don’t have a head for these things,” he finally said, rubbing the back of his head.

Bardon nodded. “As you say, Adala. I think I’ll go back to camp… this place is starting to make me sad.”

“Right…” Cuhldar lingered for a moment, looking over the flowers. He rubbed his chin, grabbing a bouquet of them; Yune should like these. All females liked flowers, right?

Hiding the flowers amongst his belongings, the steel golem made sure he was the first to meet the Wakener. Some of the tribe had already begun to scout ahead, and the rest were anxious to get on the road.

“Wakener!” He bowed his head out of respect. “I had a thought…”

“Don’t hurt yourself, Cuhldar,” Yune said with a smirk.

He blinked, staring at her uncomprehendingly. “Thoughts don’t hurt… do they?”

Yune chuckled. “Never mind. It was just a joke. What can I do for you?”

“Well… you’re small, weak, and slow, right?”

Yune arched her brow. “Excuse me?”

“I- I only mean to say, Wakener,” Cuhldar tripped over his own words, then smacked his forehead. He placed his hands on his hips, biceps grinding against his chest as he tensed his whole body. He flexed his legs, tear drop-shaped quads rippling, thighs like metal columns audibly creaking as the slammed against one another, his shiny metal skin highlighting every cut definition. “I’m really strong- maybe strongest in the tribe. And we’re big, so… our strides are longer, and we’re faster than humans. I’d like to be honored to, uh, carry you. So you don’t fall behind. We don’t have a horse or anything, so…”

The lithe woman grinned, touching his bicep- she couldn’t quite reach his shoulder. “It’s a lovely thought, Cuhldar, thank you. I’ve been meaning to spend some time with you as it is, I’ve got a few questions for you. Call it scholarly curiosity.”

The steel golem brightened; literally, as his ember eyes burned with greater intensity. He knelt down, flexing his vast back as Yune scaled him like he was a mountainside, finding purchase in the huge, unyielding swells of muscle bulging against one another. When her slender arms were secured around his bullneck, resting against his armor-like shoulders, Cuhldar grasped her legs with surprising tenderness, his biceps gently pressing into the crook of her knees.

Yune’s heart skipped a beat, pressed up against all that metallic muscle. Cuhldar grinned over his shoulder, showing teeth that seemed to be made of silver. “I’ve got you, Wakener.” He then began with a brisk jog, one of the last golah to leave the camp.

The Wakener was oddly quiet as they tribe made their way down the mountain; they were making good time. With bodies that did not tire like humans, the golah could run all day, stopping only to eat and sleep. Yune clung to her metal steed, but as they passed the ruins of her village, destroyed by bandits just before the tribe declared her their Wakener, she tightened her grip around Cuhldar.

“Are you alright, Wakener?”

“Yune, please, Cuhldar,” she murmured. She looked back at the village; they were about a hundred yards past it, now. “We’re moving down the main road. I always took the summer path… in a little while, this will be the furthest I’ve ever travelled from home.”

“Don’t worry, Wakener. I’ve seen plenty of the world- I’ll keep you safe.”

Yune sighed softly, nestling her cheek against Cuhldar’s head. “I know you will. Oh!”

The young woman’s sudden gasp nearly made Cuhldar trip over himself as he felt her plucked from his back. Nearly ready to start swinging his fists, he saw Khorag, the towering oak, carrying Yune off in his trunk-sized arms. “Hey!” the steel golem shouted. “She had a question for me!”

“Sorry! Vortok wanted to see her!” Khorag shouted back. He was smirking at Cuhldar, making the steel golem glower. Though potentially the strongest, most muscular member of the tribe, he wasn’t the fastest. He huffed, muttering darky as he jogged along, his eyes rolling as Yune went from Khorag to Gorack to Vortok.

“I was told you wanted to see me,” Yune quipped a little breathlessly as she was tossed from Gorack’s back to Vortok. The golah chief chuckled lightly.

“When we reach Occamburg, will you want to stay inside the city itself? Our tribe hasn’t been inside human city walls for nigh on a century,” the crystal giant said.

“Well… I’d hate to leave you all on your own. Why haven’t you been inside the walls? Are you not welcome?” Yune asked.

“Two Wakeners ago, she was a woman of the forest. I supposed you may even call her a witch,” Vortok explained. “She awakened Khorag. She had little need for civilization, and we spent many years in isolation- happy isolation; she was always kind to us. But we never travelled much. Then, the one before you, his trade was as a blacksmith.”

“The one who wakened Cuhldar?”

Vortok nodded. “The same; a good man named Grigor. We spent most of our time in the Icelus Empire, amongst the orcs in Talamora, and the dark elves in Leirun, though he himself was human. When he found us, he was in despair. He had lost his son in some battle, when humans allied with the elven Emperor in a civil war.”

Yune frowned, hugging Vortok’s thick neck a little tighter as she thought back to Bardon; not the ice golem smiling innocently at her, just next to Vortok, but his namesake, buried in the glade of Twilight Roses. “Is… that why Cuhldar looks so human? He… brought his son back?”

“I’ve often thought as much, but it is not our way to question why the Wakener makes us as we are. They are moved by the spirit of the All-mother,” Vortok bowed his head reverently, making a sign of respect with his hand. “Our first Wakener.”

“Something that confuses me… why is Cuhldar made of steel?” Yune asked. “Steel isn’t natural, it’s a man made alloy of iron and carbon. I thought the golah could only be made of naturally occurring material.”

“A question I have no answer to. Wakener Grigor was talented and learned, rather like you,” Vortok grinned. “I think he was planning out Cuhldar for years. He pored over magical tomes in libraries across Icelus and Perelania; I heard one of his clients, some elven lord, call him the ‘most learned tradesman in all the world.’ Cuhldar was found in an iron mine, some years after Grigor first accepted us. He sent us away to guard the entrance, and spent two days and a night. When he emerged, we were shocked to see Cuhldar made of steel.”

“That’s all?” Yune asked, lifting herself further up Vortok’s wide back, grappling with his craggly face. “What books did he read? Where did he study? Was he a mage? Come now, Vortok, you must know something.”

“You seem quite taken with Cuhldar, Wakener,” Vortok commented. “You needn’t worry about being shy; Cuhldar is eager to please, I promise.”

“It is nothing like that,” Yune protested, as Vortok gave her a knowing look. “He’s an anomaly. I’m an alchemist and scholar; I’m fascinated by him.”

“As you say, Wakener.”

The tribe stopped for the night some hours later; the Northwind numbered fifty golah, and their camp was spread out, as there were many tastes to cater towards. Those made of wood rested with the Wakener, on a grassy knoll overlooking a babbling brook. Those made of stone favored a clay pit, and Bardon found he preferred a dark, damp cave- once it had been cleared of dust, anyways. Northwind’s youngest was proving to be slightly fussy; he hated the thought of dirt marring his glassy skin.

Only Cuhldar was uncomfortable. The steel golem never cared for forests; it felt like everything was as delicate as glass, and he knew Khorag and his other, more woody brothers would take offense if he damaged the forest. He actually liked cities, where there were people to stare at his impressive body, lots of industry, and strong, sturdy buildings he didn’t need to tiptoe around. He would kill for a forge, or a nice pit, warmed by coals. Or perhaps warmed by a human wrapped around him. He looked longingly to Yune by the fire. Some of the more curious wooden golah kept holding their hands into the flames, only to be slapped away by Khorag or Yune.

Cuhldar looked into his pack, where the blue flowers he had picked for Yune were poking out. He took one last look at the Wakener and snatched the flowers up, hiding them behind his back.

“Uh… Yune!” He approached the fire, waving his hand. “I- I mean, Wakener.”

Yune stood, having to push away another of the wooden golah from the fire. “It’s fine, Cuhldar. I insist on Yune,” she smiled.

“You had some questions for me…?” Cuhldar trailed off, but still gave Yune a bright smile, puffing out his shield-sized pecs.

“Oh! Don’t worry, I asked Vortok instead.”

Cuhldar’s chest deflated. “...Oh.”

Yune was trying to look around his wide back. “What do you have behind your back?”

The steel titan perked up a bit, straightening back up. “Well… I found these before we left, and…”

“Wakener!” Khorag shouted. “Radem set himself on fire again!”

Yune sighed frustratedly, turning her eyes skyward. “Pardon me.” She turned back to the campfire, chastising a slightly burnt wooden golah. “Radem, this is the third time I’ve had to tell you! Touch that fire again, I’ll make you sleep in the river bed lest you burn yourself to a crisp!”

Cuhldar threw up his hands in defeat, stomping off back to the small ditch he had found. Radem was such a baby, he would need tending to all night.

The following days, Cuhldar began to feel disheartened. He couldn’t find any time to be alone with Yune; everyone seemed to beat him to it. Resigned, he had taken up the rear, under the guise of protecting the tribe from threats, but really, he was looking to sulk. When he caught up with some of the tribe members, however, he saw that they had come to a stop.

“What’s happened?” He asked Bardon; as the youngest, he tended to lag behind as well.

“They’re saying there’s something blocking the road. The bigger brothers have gone to clear the way for the Wakener,” the ice golem said.

Cuhldar’s face instantly lit up. He pumped his arms, biceps swelling to the size of anvils as he rubbed his hands together. “Perfect!”


“Perfect? But, how’re we supposed to…?”

“Later, Adala, this is my chance!” Cuhldar shouted. He shoved his way to the front, pushing aside brothers in his rush to please the Wakener. He could hear the smashing of rock; he had to hurry! As he pushed Khorag aside to get to the front, his face fell.

Vortok let out a mighty roar as the shimmering crystal giant dug his hands into a boulder the size of a small house that had taken up most of the road. His wide back shimmered and crackled stretching out like a colorful tapestry, arms and legs tensed, the sun catching a dozen different colors, highlighting flexed bicep like crystal orbs and thighs bigger than Yune. His chest surged out as he took in one last breath, hoisting the massive boulder over head. With a mighty swing, the chief of the Northwind Tribe threw the boulder out of the road, with such force that it shattered like glass when it hit the ground.

“Three cheers for Vortok the Mighty!” one of the brothers shouted.

The tribe cheered on their chief, and Yune bid him bend down, so she could plant a kiss on her cheek. Cuhldar cheered and clapped like the rest, but he was seething on the inside. That should have been his kiss! The long he looked on, and as the tribe began to prepare to continue on the road, his anger passed. Vortok hadn’t done anything wrong, he knew that. Cuhldar glumly conceded that Yune wasn’t Grigor; maybe he just wasn’t going to be one of her favorites. Still; she was his Wakener. He had a duty to her.

When Yune asked for a break to stretch her legs, the tribe milled about. Cuhldar, having given up the chase, only caught Yune’s eye by happenstance, though she smiled warmly as she called him over. “I’m sorry, I got so distracted last night. There was something you wanted to show me?”

The steel golem nodded, smiling again. “Yes! You said that Fordring, the mountain and the village, was all you ever knew… so, I thought you might like something to remember them… by…” His smile slipped as he pulled out the blue flowers. What happened to them? They were all wrinkled and had lost their color, and the petals were falling off. Stupid plants!

Yune, however, gasped. “These are- or, were- Twilight Roses!” She looked up to Cuhldar. “How did you think to grab them, of all things?”

The steel golem blinked. She looked… happy? “I, uh, saw them in a glade…” He was about to leave Bardon out, but hung his head. “I found Bardon there. It was where we buried the human. I thought you might like to have them. I’m sorry… I must have broken them somehow.”

Yune smiled softly. She placed a hand on his massive chest, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “I still think they’re beautiful. Thank you, Cuhldar. They’re still good to use in potions… and I can extract the seeds. Make even more grow.”

“O-of course, Wakener,” he murmured, gently touching his cheek.

“We’re almost at Occamburg’s gates… The rest of the tribe seem to feel a bit uncomfortable in cities. Would you accompany me? I wouldn’t feel comfortable going in alone.”

Cuhldar smiled wide, the fire coming back into his ember eyes. “I go where you tell me.”

“I’m glad.” Yune sighed, lacing her fingers in his as she rested against his huge, bulging arm. “On the way… I have a few questions, about you.”

“Hah, that’s my favorite subject, Wakener.”

Yune chuckled. “I thought it might be.”