Addendum

A blond human who is actually a dragon carries a golem hammer through the portal. What lies on the other side? A tyrant who's actually a transformed black hole, of course, but the point is, hammers are only a good weapon for a hero if they're really big, and I mean ultra huge.

Transform!

Obviously dragons can transform into people and civilian vehicles into intelligent robots, but don't forget to have spaceships transform into portals to another galaxy, golems transform into hammers, and dwarves transform into super dwarves (their beards change color).

Shock! The Professor's Invention Is What?!?!

Nouveau Drythorn City was the place to be for anyone with an interest in the latest golem designs or the financial opportunities in golems and golem-related industries which had already created a new class of the wealthy. No map of the continent showed any place more likely to reward daring, whether intellectual, entrepreneurial, or criminal.
It was in response to that last, Professor Brannes declared, that he had embarked on his latest endeavor. When Brannes talked, the clued-in listened, and so a crowd assembled at the professor's atelier before the appointed time. Giddy inventors, exuberant investors, and common announcement-lovers made up the mass, and any among them who thought he saw some government officials or underworld fixtures with their hats pulled low would not have been mistaken.
"Thank you for coming, gentlemen." Professor Brannes walked out while the sound of the last bell still vibrated in the audience's ears. He snapped open the cover of his own watch as well to check the time, for he left nothing to chance. "It is not my intention to waste time. You know the situation as well as I. Golem crime is on the rise. A special unit has been formed to combat it, but without better tools, unscrupulous criminals will keep the advantage. That is why I invented the stoplem."
Murmurs spread throughout the crowds, heads were put together, and a few shady figures ran off to report on the emerging situation.
The professor did not wait for silence. "Yes, the stoplem. Though incapable of movement on its own, the authorities will find it an invaluable ally. The field it emits interferes with golem animation, rendering the target helpless, or at least diminished in capacity when it comes to high-output models. Let the golem gangs beware." He raised his hand, and behind him the thick, heavy shutter guarding his atelier rolled up.
The murmur broke out into a full tumult. At first Professor Brannes believed the excellence of his invention caused it, but when he turned, he realized the truth. The prototype stoplem was gone, stolen. The news flew through the city on wings of trepidation. At headquarters, the Golem Crime Unit began to move.
Finis

The Implications of Widespread Magic

Magister Thorne consulted the thaumaturgical chronometer on his desk. It would not do to be tardy, but hastiness would be just as impolite while reeking of desperation. There was no need to be desperate. All potential stumbling blocks had been removed. He tapped the swirling orb next to the chronometer, concentrated on the person he wanted to reach and leaned back in his chair.
"Oh, hey, is that you . . . Thorne? It's . . . hear from . . . fine day . . . dinner still . . . this evening?"
"There seems to be a problem with our connection, Lord Haverstash. Are you very far out?"
"No, no, I'm right . . . stopped by . . . wash . . . charming student body . . ."
"Well, that's good to hear, Lord Haverstash. Lord Haverstash? Are you there?" Thorne cursed and dashed out of his office.
"Sir, I thought you might like to know . . ."
"No time, Miss Arhod."
"But I really think . . ."
"No time!" Magister Thorne walked out of the administration building and looked around. "What's going over there?" There was a crowd just past the campus, and laughing, and water everywhere.
Miss Arhod caught up. "That's what I was trying to tell you, Magister. You might want to tell Lord Haverstash to take a different road, since a Bikini Golem Wash was approved on Orange Street."
"A what? Wait. Who requested this approval?"
"Um, let me see, House Wiffledimp?"
"No!" He ran forward waving his hands and yelling for everyone to pack up and vacate the street, but nobody listened.
"Ah, there you are, Magister! You didn't have to come meet me, but any excuse is a good one, eh?" Lord Haverstash winked. "There's no need for a formal discussion anyway. I've decided my son and heir will be attending this university, and joining House Wiffledimp specifically!"
"Nooooooooooooooooooo!"
Finis