Novice - Tales of 16 / Tales of Prime

In this thread I plan to write a weekly short about 2 of my favorite characters that I have created. 16 and Prime. Each is from a different world settings but both are Warforged. 16 is based on the Eberron world setting while Prime is part of a custom world setting that a friend of mine created. 16 is a lawful good artificer with a multi class of Paladin and you can consider him in the paragon level. While Prime is an Epic level villain who is very complicated. He is a Hybrid Avenger/Monk with a multi class in Druid. Theoretically a Warforged is created by using pure Arcane magic, so no matter what class a Warforged chooses, there is still the hint of Arcane power within one. He is a force of all 4 magic entities. Anyway, I don't want to give away anymore but for now I will write my first post right after this one. Enjoy and if you like the stories, feel free to follow them and comment.
We are looking forward to seeing them! Thanks for sharing!
16 - Description and Origin

Standing at 5'6" and 260 lb. This constructs is unlike any other due to it having 5 fingers rather than the usual 3. Created from a strange alloy and having Abyssal Inscriptions on its shoulders and chest this Warforged is indeed unique. Its alloy is steel with a mysterious jade tint. Its eyes glow a dark blue and has thick tubing behind its skull that seem like dreadlocks from a distance. To cover the Abyssal symbols it always wears some kind of cloak.

16 Loves to Play with new and curious objects, it wants to know how things work. This trait gives it the habit to observe its targets movements before attacking. It acts like everything has a mechanism and constantly wants to discover why these things happen (ie. why does a person cry?). Many of 16's comrades joke that it will be the first construct to construct its own kind and it tends to agrees, but only after it plays its part in this war.

Being built by a single tinker loyal to Ioun, it was famous not for its builder but more specifically b/c the builder was a Mind Flayer. One who left his chaotic kin to further his knowledge of something that infatuated him during the Great War. Isilmorte' being his name was always curious of surface dwellers and observed many races. He watched as surface dwellers build machines to fight for them and as the years passed also noticed how these constructs became more advanced, more agile, more intelligent and most of all, more sentient. This overwhelmed Isilmorte'. One night he infiltrated a human factory looking for food. Be it the will of the gods or shear luck, Isilmorte' found a prized jewel (not knowing). A man by the name of Whistler Grothwell. Whistler was a lead scientist in the Warforged Projects. Somehow eating this mans brain gave Isilmorte' full knowledge of the construction and mechanics of the Warforged. Thinking that this was a gift from the gods as well as a sign, Isilmorte' decided that night that his life goal was to create the perfect Warforged. So perfect that it itself may be a god one day and these warriors of steel man have a hero.

Over the years Isilmorte' spent day and night in isolation creating his dream. Over time he learned that it may also be possible to fuse his own entity to this steel beast. Making himself an immortal and finally ridding himself of the weakness of having the need for brain. Harvesting His own materials in deep water caves that normal surface dwellers never could, and creating his own parts. This Warforged was fully personalized and unique.

10 years Passed in the creation of the construct and Isilmorte' is beginning to realize his dream has a flaw. It cannot be an icon and hero to its kin, if its true entity is of Illithid. As much as immortality would be grand, it would be for nothing if his one dream cannot be fulfilled. Needing an answer Isilmotre' turned to Ioun the demi-god of Knowledge for guidance. In a quiet night of sleep he had a dream or prophecy some may say. Isilmorte' needed a spark of divinity to create life in the construct, this spark would be blessed by Ioan under the condition that Isilmorte' let it be and learn the world on its own. On the final day of construction, Isilmorte' began the ritual and before the sentient could fully awaken, slipped away into the night knowing that one day faith will show him how his creation has surpassed man.

the Steel was born confused. Born in a plain it had no sense of direction. beginning to walk it happened upon a camp of fleshbags and instantly subdued by a few waiting for it to get near enough. Being in chains was its first experience with fleshbags. Over time they realized that it was no ordinary Warforged and began to trust it. It learned that these fleshbags were a special strike unit for Cyre. One day the unit was attacked by a band of ogre, outnumbered and out matched the unit released the chains on the construct and watched as he single-handedly was able to take down an Ogre. When the battle ended this construct was commended and was released for its contribution. Instead of leaving it instead did something that shocked the unit. It enlisted under the condition that it may stay with the special strike unit who it considers its first family.

The Unit was curious of this creator, not only because it was a Warforged but one who was unique and not created in a Cyre workshop. Its Ghulra being very similar to that of Ioun, soldiers gave it the name "16" after the 16 original Ioun stones. Over time this name grew close to 16 and it began to learn everything it could about anything and everything. through this path 16 became curious of its own mechanics and this is how it began its path of artificer.

When Cyre fell, 16 didn't understand why his unit was in mourning. But it knew that its family was sad, and whatever made its family sad, made him mad. it wants it family happy again and will punish those who shame them.
Prime - Description and Origin

6'0" and 180 lb, Prime is much more mobile than the average Warforged. Armor is of a strange Metal that looks like chard bark. It's eyes do not glow, some say that it is so deep into its ambitions and is such a sadist that its body cannot create a color other than darkness to project personality.

Prime is a natural leader. His charisma allows him to speak just the right words to sway ones mind. Prefers not to force anyone into its ideals because it feels that a forced will is unworthy of its pilgrimage. Prime has morals and believes in them without sway. Built and destined to be nothing more than scrap, it pushes on and surpasses that which we call fate.

It was a 3 quarter moon on this night. Calm yet constant wind coming from the South and a light mist on the ground. Night has been for at least 5 hour class cycles, so the sky has darkened to a black entwined with a dark blue tint. All this can be seen on this here prairie. Filled with daffodils and long stemmed grass, the landscape provides effective cover of the mine deep within. In this mine a small community of men live in quiet. Amish, a tall gangly man with arms to long for his body just returned from his patrol around the forest edges that surround the prairie.

The men have been on edge for the last 3 weeks for two reasons. The first being that the men had recently came upon knowledge that a Gnomish burrow had schematics to the construction of Warforged. The men took this information and where able to infiltrate the burrow easily through a back entrance. During this time, the men had to murder a number of Gnomes and where able to return to their mines safe and unharmed. The second reason for the men's tension was that they where finally able to build something of worth. They had the ability to create weapons of war, tireless slaves, and aids. The possibility where limitless to the men now. Riches, fame, glory where at their hands and all they needed to do was be the engineers they were and build an army of sentient constructs. Satur'a the leader of the community was excited most of all. Being the teacher of most the men Satur'a was most ambitious to build these steel men. So much that he ordered the men to build as many versions and types of the constructs at possible. Some of the men disagreed with this plan of action and preferred to build one kind, master it and continue to the next. None spoke up...

Humans are a primitive race. Lack of enhanced vision, simple minded, and greedy. Their ability to adapt is the only thing saving them from being overrun by Goblins. They think that the random angles of the landscape alone hides the fact that their workshop is located here, the fools arrogance leads to the end of them. Gnomes are naturally smaller, small enough to be able to walk normally through the tall grass and not bring attention. All in this world know that if one happens to fall into a gnomish community, the toll is knowledge. Most common is the exchange of tomes and books but other means have been known to calm the creatures. But if even a single page form a common book is taken without permission, the Gnomes attack with full force. This act is known so well that it might as well be law. 30 or more Gnomes armed with weapons intended for war inch forward, closer to the mine and closer to battle. The Gnomes are not naturally creatures of destruction and slaughter, but this act is an act that defies their way of life. Every page taken is a weakening in future generations, and this is simply unacceptable. The raid is close, less than 30 yards. Now they lay in wait for the best moment to strike the humans. An hour or so passes and the men are still hard at work, They must already be in the process of creating Warforged... reckless as ever are the humans. SUDDENLY, a flash of light from in the mine. The light is no doubt created from the chemical reaction between arcane magic and the creation of life. The humans are more foolish than first thought of, They know not of how the magic works yet and have not put in the effort to understand and yet they pushed forward so early to create a sentient construct. The time is now, the signal is given and the Gnomes charge forward.

The battle ended quickly, the humans were working day and night, to many hours and to little sleep. They could barely react to the assault. Thankfully only one attempt at creating life was made. What seemed to be a leader of the raid looked at the poorly made construct and ordered it to be disposed of with the rest of the half made forges. Even though this one had a glimmer of life in it, survival would not come easy with it and nurturing of the creature would be for waste. The Gnomes prefer to keep the secrets of creating life as just that... a secret. All forges where taken to the Gnomish burrows and dumped into the heaps of scrap.

This is the first experience at life this Warforged has. tossed aside and deemed unworthy of a god given right... a chance at life for days the Warforged lay in a burrow filled with scraps and other unfinished forges, many where the ones taken from its birth place. Although this forge did not understand where it was, or even what was happening it quickly learned of puzzles. Like a jigsaw puzzle that a child solves, this forge was pulling parts from other forges and fitting them into place. Every time it heard something approaching the burrow, it would lay down and play the role they deemed for it... scrap. One day the Forge decided that leaving the burrow was necessary. It did not want to encounter on of those creatures so decided to create its own path out of the burrow. With a make shift shovel, it tunneled. Never growing tired it was not long for it to reach the surface. Now the Forge is in a new world. It was created by greed, it was dammed at birth, became an abomination, yet the feel of the wind, the touch of the dirt at its soles, and the sounds of the world tell it, that it is perfect just the way it is.
16 - The master who lost his child, the Ulitharid who found his purpose
Time Period: Before 16, early years of the last war

He was born a runt and weak. The care takers even pulled a pool to see when he would die. But over time, he survived death over and over. When he finally went through his ceremorphosis, it was of huge surprise to find that he was in fact an Ulitharid. Some even refused to believe it, while others saw it as rational. As a tadpole he fought every day and night to survive. It was only natural for him to grow strong. But because of this, his hate for his kin developed. He questioned everything as well.

Over time he began to enjoy the surface and observed other races with much interest. More than any other, he watched humans. They of all other races were free spirited. Each had his or her own ideals and seemed as if there was no dogma. Over the years, he learned the ways of the arcane arts, even though his kin frowned upon it. But what could they say, for he was an Ulitharid. Soon after he was able to learn more advanced magic techniques, such as teleportation. This allowed him to study more surface dwellers. He witnessed love, he witnessed hate, compassion, labor, slavery, but above all else, he witnessed war... Humans called this "the last war". Some of his kin didn't even know there was a war... disgraceful.

One day he heard rumors of a new weapon that will be launched in the coming battles. Seeing this was first priority. Could this new weapon be a spell? a cannon? or maybe a secret ally now revealed! The anticipation was killing him. When the day finally came, he woke early so no one would see him take leave. Teleporting to high ground to view all, he watched. Before the battle even began, he saw the weapon... Iron constructs, creatures of steel. Different shapes and sizes. Being that these where a first generation of something bigger to come, they where build large and bulky, slow and clumsy. Also a simple observation showed that these creatures where no better than a golem. He did not care, he watched with intense interest. Over the years, He witnessed the creatures evolve in battle and one day he saw something amazing. Something that would change his life forever without knowing it yet. One of these metal constructs was acting on its own, being rational, but most of all, showing emotion. How could this be? could the humans have really discovered a way to create sentient life from these metal shells? It only took a few days of watching one of these things to confirm his theory. How could they do this. It seemed impossible, yet it was right in front of him, clear as day.

He became obsessed with the creatures, he wanted to know how they worked, he needed to know what gave them life. For months he watched and waited, soon it became apparent that watching was not enough, he must tread dangerous waters and he must take a leap of faith. This is Isilmorte' and he has found his purpose.
Prime - Natural Instinct
Time period: Birth

When a living forge is created, the engineer embeds knowledge into the construct. But what if the creator is reckless or preforms the ritual of life prematurely.? The steel shell is born like a new born child, but even a baby lives with the knowledge of how to float in water, or that if it is hungry to call for its mother. A forge who is born from arcane magic, is not part of the pattern of life, Therefore has no natural instincts. Would this abomination now be considered a golem? No, even a golem knows who is its master, who it serves, what is its purpose. This creature knows nothing. Nothing of its master, or mother. Born in battle and tossed to the scrap, it knows nothing.

For days the creature laid there, slowly learning how to simply move. Once that happened, it spent days walking to and around the scrap yard. The creature, like many others was curious. Picking objects up and examining. Digging and running, where the greatest and most exciting discovery's. Days would pass and there would be silence in the scrap burrow but every now and than a new noise that it never heard before would enter. A Gnome would walk in and throw more scraps away. The creature eventually realized that it did not walk the same way they did. Being that one of its legs did not function, it was actually walking with its left hand and left leg. Not knowing anything, it thought that this was normal but watching the Gnomes finally made it second guess its methods of movement. But without its other legs functioning this was impossible.

One day it came to a section of the scrap yard, where other forges like itself where thrown. Like a child pieces one puzzle piece at a time, it worked. For days it played with parts and improvised and eventually just like that, the gears moved and parts charged, the leg worked. While working with all the scrapped forges, it realized something else. The other forges had parts that it didn't and such. Eventually no more, the Forge realized something, it wanted more than this.

This place was a void and the creatures who on occasion came scared it. Not fully complete, the forge decided that It must leave, that this place was emptiness and there must be more. Natural instinct to all living is this; all living beings want to survive, all living beings want to live, all living beings want a life. Why cant it have this? Even that of which is born with nothing and no sense of direction, knows this. The story of Prime begins here.
16 – Birth of A Hero, Captured by A Hero

Time Period: One day prior to birth

It was a brisk autumn day, one of those days when one could know that nothing could go wrong, a day when children look to the skies because the great creatures of the sky can easily be seen. Just enough clouds to dim the sun from beaming on the earth but not so many as to create rain. The heavens themselves are jealous of a day like this. Deep in the ridges of Cyre there is a plateau that very few know of, if not native to the lands. Nothing special of this plateau if not its beauty and untouched meadows and natural wheat fields. A combination of golden brown and lilies makes this valley a sweet memory for any who pass its one and only trail. From the West, one can oversee the Thornewood and to the East one can gaze into beautiful Cyre. Even though this plateau is untouchable by order of the king, only traveling through the trail is allowed. The king believes that one day, civilization will expand throughout the kingdom and a natural beauty such as this must be preserved before it is to late.

Captain Perch, charged with commanding the 13th Special Strike Company is a man who looks to take care of his men over the completion of a mission. Other officers say that he is to soft and lacks discipline, but this statement could not be further from the truth. He is a stern man who follows a specific set of moral values. His men are some of the best in the land. It is said that when one has such a number of highly skilled warriors, it is that much more difficult to lead and control. This challenge was one that Captain Perch chose to take, and succeed he has done so. Never to have failed a mission before, the Captain feels that his men deserve the world and more. Because of the war this is of course not an option, but little surprises here and there boost the men’s moral. The men are tasked to infiltrate an enemy’s encampment. This mission is one of the most dangerous that has been tasked so far. For this Captain believes that not everyone will return home to hold his or her spouse and child. He decided to take a path that will take longer but well worth the delay. Today the men will get to see the beauty of The Robins Plateau.

One day prior:

Isilmorte' has a strange feeling, One that he has never felt before. Moister is building around his eyes and they quickly glaze over. Illithid are not known for having such emotions, so why is he crying? Is a creature of such caliber able to morn, a creature of the underdark, one that’s race is pure evil, one that’s life is filled with hatred and gluttonous ambitions? Isilmorte’ has a reason on this day. On this one very special day, Isilmorte’ is about to leave behind the one thing that gave him purpose. As he prepares a teleportation spell, his mind is flooded with thoughts of what kind of creature this forge will become. Will it truly be a patron of Ioun, or will it stray from its destiny and commit acts of sinister and diabolical traits? Doubt should not overwhelm him; He knows this and quickly shakes his head in the hopes that the thoughts would wash away from his mind. The spell is prepared and the time draws closer. He finishes his study and walks toward this nameless forge. Wait, this is true. The forge has no name! No, this matters not for he is forbidden to be present when it awakens, and therefore naming it would be futile. Perhaps another will name it, pray that the name given is one that describes its perfection and destined glory. He walks toward the forge, every step bringing him closer yet further from his great creation. As he takes his last step, he extends his arm and coerces the finely chiseled armor, the smooth plating and ridges of the embedded Abyssal scripts along its chest and shoulders. No more time needs to be wasted, the longer he waits, the harder it becomes. Isilmorte’ closes his eyes , grasps the plate of the forge and in an instant, now lying in the middle of golden brown wheat and lilies.

Back to Captain Perch:

As my men were traveling up to the robins plateau, they heard am explosion from up top. The first thought was attack; the men without hesitations readied themselves for battle. They stood ready for nearly 10 minutes before coming to a realization that the sound was not an indication of attack. They continued their march but nonetheless were on high alert. The captain’s thoughts were more irritated than anything. Here his company is, traveling on a road for a reward and this happens, well if someone was up top waiting to ruin it all, the nine hells will be awaiting them. The next day, the company arrived to the top of the plateau and the sight was beautiful, as if Mother Nature herself blessed this land to be a sight of great beauty. During the march in midday, the cause of the explosion was revealed. A warforged in the middle of the meadow was lying in a center of what seemed to be caused by sorcery. The plants were scorched and the Warforged was lying motionless. If not for the men tasked on a mission, and the detour already putting them behind schedule, the Captain would have sent men to investigate. But no matter how he plotted, the investigation was not worth any more delay. Forced to continue on the path, the captain turned his head on occasion to see if the creature would suddenly move, disappear, attack.

Later that day, still on the plateau; the captain ordered his men to set up camp for the day and rest. No more than an hour or so later, a shadow emerges from the distance. The captain orders two of his scouts (Kasr Lutein and Galrrandiir Vo'ren) to set an ambush on the soon to be intruder. With a simple hand jester Runne and the dragonborn and eizike kahail the Psion prepare for an attack. As the shadow inches closer the identity was discovered. It was the Warforged from the fields. Now the captain is angry, how could he hesitate to investigate the creature before. Now for all he knows, the Warforged could be a beast, savage at nature. Many possibilities but now it was to late, and what could have been earlier prevented, is now something that must be dealt with. Runne picks up his axe, Kahail draws his wand, The Captain places palm on his weapons hilt. As the creature reaches the camp, it pauses and just stares at everyone. At no particular person, the creature looks on. Being a warforged, an expression could not be read of the creature. Was it scared, angry, confused, bloodthirsty? The mystery could drive a man mad, but the captain kept his cool. Just as he uttered the first words of an order, he was quickly interrupted by Vo’Ren and Kas. The two scouts lunge from the brush and immediately subdue the Warforged. This creature was not savage, for it would have given more of a struggle. No this creature was harmless, even as the two scouts tied the creature down, it sat motionless and quiet. As though it didn’t even understand what was happening, it sat quietly even as the captain asked his first question and second. For a moment the two stared at each other, like looking at the others soul. Suddenly the captain finished, ordered Runne to chain the Forge and it will be dealt with in the morning. The men are tired, the light is nearly gone, and the dark is galloping forward as if at war with the light. For today the night has won the battle, and the men are to rest ready for a new day that the light overcomes the night once more. What to do with this creature though? The thought leaks from the back of the mind, perhaps the gods will enlighten him through the dream realm.
Prime - Natural Instinct (Part 2)
Time Period: 2 Months after Birth

Created Thursday April 22nd, things came up and had to cut it short
All right bro, your slackin'

I know you're busy, just thought I'd bump this and give you a reminder.