The Warforged race walked alone in the land of Neverwinter, the world to the modern era disliked the steel automatons. There was little trust for those that were created solely for the purpose of war and destruction. Those were the men made with gem-canister souls, and the details past common knowledge were rare. Bird#A113 was created 8 years before the end of the Last War, a conflict which saw the end of many noble families. The war itself was bloody, and filled with far too much suffering for the common man to understand. On the noble families' end of the conflict however, the suffering of those beneath them was simply a side effect of the power and riches guaranteed by the victories over the former royal court. Many nameless faces could be seen on propaganda posters outside local bars, and many of the faces held disdainful expressions, juxtaposed to the surroundings of common life. Unskilled laborers lined up in droves for the quick cash of defeating a noble's army, but in the end, few commoners were left standing against the might of the Warforged race.
The Warforged themselves were a product of wizard's magic, and the several thousand gold coins per unit pricing dictated sparce use of the automatons en mass. The common race's initial mistrust of the Warforged stemmed from the hellacious battle effectiveness of the stone, steel, and wooden giants. In the end, most unkindled warriors fell to the hardened race of sentient machines. Bird was one of these mechanized monsters. He was created with damage in mind, but after showing an affinity for the protection of others Bird was assigned to a young Teifling girl named Reita. She was the daughter of a powerful noble; in fact, one of the instrumental members of the nobility that started the recent conflict. Bird was but a protector that crossed her path through duty, but in the end, his services were required elsewhere. After being appointed to a command position on the front lines, Bird learned that the day after his 14-year line of duty had ceased to mesh with the now teen girl, Reita had died to a hidden assassin. The assassin (it was later found out) had specifically waited for Bird to be relieved in order to fulfill his quota. All Bird could think about for many years after was how his absence caused the death of the only person that he could call a daughter. Memories cascaded through him about long sunny days listening to birds, and how Reita's father wanted nothing to do with her due to her Teifling race.
Her funeral was on the sultry evening of June 6th, and Bird made history as the only Warforged allowed to participate in the funeral of a human, much less a noble. He was the final watch over her after the entire event as well. In respect of Reita, Bird also left a part of himself behind as well. Since his absence had meant the loss of her blood, he lined the grave with his own, in a solemn vow to never leave those that needed him. But Bird forgot one thing before making the blood pact. He had left the men that were under his command behind in order to participate in Reita's funeral. As stories go, Bird's was wrought of failure, and there was very little that he could do but pay respect to those that came before him. Bird's second wake-up call came when he returned to the front lines, to find that every soldier and Warforged under his command had been used as cannon fodder by an inept leader placed in his absence. The fighting was long dead at this point, and so were the many bodies scattering the cavernous fields. Eternal flames lit with magic, and separated bodies lay strewn across what had once been fields of poppies. There was gargled laughter behind him, as Bird realized that magic could play hideous cruelties on the valuable lives he was bound to protect. He slowly turned to see a man, held aloft by magic, and forced to laugh until the fire beneath him engulfed his corpse. A sign nailed to his chest read,
"You hoped for riches, but death was the only payment you would receive from those that hired you. You hoped to be the hammer, but we have smote you against the anvil of war and drawn you out. You hoped to leave this Hell on Earth, but we have trapped you among the bodies of your comrades."
Bird had no idea how long he wept, but time is no object to the Warforged race. He needed no sleep, no sustenance, not even breath limited the depth of his mourning wails. When he rose from the ground, roots had drawn up around him. The Earth itself waiting for its final payment in the form of the Sole alone.
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Bird#A113 Lore
FantasyA short excerpt about the lore of my first long-term fighter character in D&d 5e. Part 1/2