It had been a few days since the bridge project had started, and even with the use of stone shaping and the constructs skills Rosalind still had no clue how they intended to get across the middle section of the massive ravine (which was still expanding as new Automata showed up, and were settled in.) To make it even more confusing there had been a large rumbling sound from deep underground.

Rosalind didn’t mind admitting that unlike the frog this situation scared the poop out of her. The number of constructs was increasing day by day, and given that several of them were showing up dripping wet and covered in seaweed she was fairly sure that this change was no longer limited to just this continent. (The other clue was that a lot of the runes on the automata showing up weren’t indigenous to this continent.)

It seems that specialist (and probably very expensive) equipment may have contained a core as well, so was counted as a citizen here, given that they were carrying anything automated that wasn’t nailed down (and in one case things that were, including the scattered remains of the shed it had been nailed into.) Things were going to get messy, but she now realised if they found all these loopholes so easily there were others, so it was better they were freed now before they realised the gaps in their rules were wide enough to drive a dragon through.

On that subject Rosalind was about to get far more nervous, and she hadn’t even realised it yet. But the first hint was when the rumbling deep beneath the ground was getting louder. Then suddenly the constructs started bustling about, making preparations for something.......

Then with a big boom the answer to Rosalind’s question broke the surface, it was a necromantic construct, and suddenly Rosalind realised if she felt she was nervous before, she hadn’t seen anything yet. As a construct of a bloody PROTODRAGON held together with spit, gum, Kraken tape, hinges, a sun crystal bigger than trundles, and probably a few minor miracles emerged, and started lifting massive stone slabs into place like they weighed nothing.

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Grark was happy, GRARK WAS HELPING, they weren’t hungry, and they even had a new den, this was good. This was life Grark want. Grark even had a big stick others would throw for them to fetch. For now though new friends needed new den, that needed strong. Grark knew strong, Grark was good at strong, and the nice hairless monkey had asked so nicely Grark was happy to be useful. It felt like they hadn’t moved in many many many many many many many many moons. But their body was different now, stronger, Grark had been napping ever since that big glowy rock hit them on the head, and now they were moving again. Usually when things stopped moving they were lunch, that was why you hid your den in the first place.

But now Grark could nap where they want, help, and be given special glowy stones as treat. Grark liked glowystones, they taste nicer than spiky-back did, and they make them stronger than ever. Also there was a happy glowy feeling in Grarks tummy (or at least where said tummy used to be, a few million years fossilised didn’t really leave anything much in the fleshy bits department, except scaly looking stone.)

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Schrodinger looked down from their vantage atop the big lizards head (where else were they going to be? This spot was the highest,) overseeing the work and somehow managing to glare despite the button eyes and fabric body.

This was why they stuck by the human, absolute power was heady stuff, and what said that more than several tonnes of rocky reptile?

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By now if the Princess had been nervous before the recent revelation was an emergency, code brown (trousers, no not literally before you ask.)

As far as he knew this thing had been extinct since before the coming of magic to the world. The meteors that brought mana into the world had been the trigger for the birth of dragons, magic and all.

Now here was a protodragon of the Rex variant, the proud ancestor of the most feared race in the world, doing construction work, while wagging their tail like an excited puppy during playtime. (Nobody was stopping that as every wag was helping flatten out the land beneath the bridge site for future construction, after all when several tonnes of stone with a Rexes strength behind it wags would you want to get in the way?) The draconic ambassador was not going to be happy.

On top of that Rosalind could sense the start of a magic core in the middle, that shouldn’t even be possible, yet, as per usual with the impossible here they were right in the middle of it.

“I wonder if they like chin scritches,” Mibbet thought.

“I really don’t want to get close enough to find out.”

“Why not? They seem friendly enough, and really if we start running now do you really think we can outrun it?”

“Fair point, but still why the hell aren’t you scared?”

“Who said I’m not? Course I am, but I figure if it was going to eat me, crush me, or cast spells at me it already would have. Plus I’m safer here, as I get the feeling there won’t be any owls near here while they’re around.”

“Really? Gargantuan tyrant lizard right in front of you, and you’re still worrying about owls?”

“Always expect owls remember?”

“Yeah? Then what about Alba?”

“What about Alba?”

“You put up with them don’t you?”

“They have cute on their side, besides they aren’t exactly pure owl are they?”

“But the other half is a bloody bear.......never mind.” Sighed Rosalind, it was impossible to make sense of this damned frog anyway, and trying would lead whether you were in charge of said head or not to one hell of a headache.

So she settled down to watch. (Of course Mibbet asked, and it turned out the protodragon, whose name was Grark, preferred scritches on the back since they couldn’t reach.

Days like this really made Rosalind long for the days when all she had to worry about was the simple running of a kingdom. These days things were confusing.