Game Thread: The Forgotten Forge

[TheKhan]

The end of Darius' lecture is met with hearty approval from the crowd. The provost, a wrinkled human with a wild frizz of hair named Bonal Geldem stepped back up to the podium to formally end the session.

"We all thank you once again, Captain Baden. It is rare that we get such a direct insight into history so soon after it happens and even rarer that it comes from one of our sister nations. Please accept the gratitude of the University on my behalf as well as that of our audience. This concludes our evening lecture. For those of you interested, next week, we will be featuring Hascal d'Ghallanda speaking on the cultures of Xen'drik. If anyone has further questions for the Captain, he has agreed to give us a little more of his time tonight. Otherwise, I bid you all a good night and ask that you be careful walking home in this storm."

Having concluded in sending the crowd off, Bonal turns back to Darius and says more quietly, "That was very well done son, I don't suppose you have any other topics you could speak on? It is good for people to hear many different points of view, especially the young ones who are just embarking on their studies. It makes it all so much more real for them to hear it from someone who was there."

The first of several individuals wishing to speak with Darius also approaches at this time. The woman appears to be in her early thirties and is clearly a Karrn by her features. Her red hair is weaved in a complex braid that wraps around her pale neck.

"Sir Badan, I am Lady Jesel Tarra'az and it is so good to see one of my countrymen composting himself so elegantly for a foreign crowd. Where is it that you hail from?"

[aivanther]

Breaker stood in the back of the hall, observing. The warforged purposefully kept itself distant from the others and, perhaps sensing this desire for isolation, those nearest him were more than willing to give him quite a birth. The warforged remained standing rigidly as it considered what it just heard.

The human knows war, that's for certain. But these softies around...this is an idea for them. What fools, Breaker thought, looking around the room with some contempt. War would destroy most of these, though perhaps not all... Breaker began moving at the sight of another warforged.

Approaching the other warforged it spoke, "Greetings. I am called Breaker."

ooc: Addressing Redemption here.

[GrimDarkOtter]

At the conclusion of his lecture, Darius turned around and began to erase the glowing marks left on the scrawl-board at the front of the class illustrating his points. He was rather surprised to draw such a large crowd, but curiousity might explain it. After all, Breland has not really been involved in any action on the Talenta Plains, so the fluid, open warfare that campaign required would still be quite novel. Still, he felt he touched upon the basic principles of the Talentan and Valenar ways of war.

As Provost Geldem approached, Darius was just about to start erasing the diagram of a carver he had put up on one of the secondary boards. "Ah, thank you sir. Well, if there's demand for it I suppose I could discuss the habits of the plains dinosaurs. Their behavior is somewhat different than the jungle varieties more commonly found in Breland, and the merits of the carver and clawfoot must be discussed in opposition to the Valenar riding horse. It is a shame that The War is so quickly forgotten by the young, though."

Turning to Lady Jesel, Darius bows slightly at the waist, his medals jangling. "Thank you, your ladyship. My family come out of Rekkenmark, as it happens, with significant interests in paper manufacture. Not that they weren't too sad to see a younger son go out to the world."

[sammichweasel]

Scoffing throughout the talk, a small-even-for-a-halfling halfling in the back drew stares and a numbers of "shh!"s from those around him. His clearly Talentan garb, constructed of worked supple dinosaur hide, stood out like a sore thumb amidst the proper academic dress that most of the rest wore (in most cases a bit uncomfortably - the latest season's fashions had shoved their way into the University's core, and a series of high-collared frills had been chaffing necks for months). Snide, barely audible comments like "That region's more banana-shaped, longlimb" and "Oh come on, the minor carver can't run that fast on a good day!" were apparently helping ruffle feathers. By the time the speech was concluded, a small buffer zone had built up around the diminutive creature. It probably didn't help that a miniature version of what Darius was drawing on the board was perched on his shoulder, tasting the air every few seconds before preening its colorful scales.

When he finally stopped, the halfling darted towards the podium, the provost and woman barely beating him to the speaker. Completely ignoring the polite exchange, he pushed his way past her rather more clean self to poke Darius in the thigh, staring up at him crossly.

"So, mister Talenta Expert, you seem to know a lot about how you managed to help decimate a culture. Any insights on the decrease in working lizard populations due to overmilitarization, or the degradation of traditional values through foreign influence? Or should we just stay focused on how you earned your medals?"

[GrimDarkOtter]

Darius clears his throat and gives Lady Jesel an apologetic look before saying "Excuse me a moment," and then turning to the halfling and saying "My apologies sir, but it seems as if you would be better served speaking to a wall, given your apparent belligerence. Wild dinosaur populations and the decline of your "traditional values" are the unfortunate devastation of war, but if you need to fight with someone about it I suggest you take it up with the Valenar raiding hosts who do not recognize your border. And as for my medals," here Darius points to a ribbon of bright, multi-colored strands woven together and looped through his left epaulette, "Perhaps you should ask among the lath of the Riverwhisk tribe just how many Karrnathi died defending their wagons from Cyran raiders."

[sammichweasel]

The halfling scoffed again, rolling his eyes. "Oh, please. The Riverwhisk couldn't defend a clutch from a dire weasel with the help of the mother. It's a wonder they didn't get your entire regiment killed. Anyway, we don't HAVE borders, which is why the whole war thing was kind of ridiculous for us in the first place. I mean, seriously? You came to help a bunch of nomads? You know what nomads do when there's a problem? THEY MOVE." A bit more poking in the thigh accompanied all of this, until he caught the provost moving towards some fellows that looked a bit bigger and more surly than your average student.

"Look, all I'm getting at is that you really glossed over a lot. These people don't understand a damned thing that happened in Talenta, not with any real perspective. You think my people are HAPPY with the help? We could've gotten out of the way, but YOUR people planted a firm, hard line smack dab in traditional migration routes. You made a war front in the Plains! They would've just marched through!" Exasperation drove his arms into the air, where he continued to wave them about furiously. His arms were just as spindly as one would expect of a diminutive halfling.

[TheKhan]

"Do not judge them too harshly," advises Bonal. "Our youngest were mere pups when the Mourning occurred. For us, four years is nothing. For them, it is half their memory and a quarter of their age. They were but children, they may have had the desire and will to fight, but not age or strength at the time. There are many of our new scholars, both young and old, who did fight in the war and are only now coming to terms with the vastness that it consumed. Many of them have never been farther East than Thronehold, if that. To them Karrnath is just another of the Five Nations, occasionally encountered in skirmishes, but the is no tangible connection there. For the Talenta Plains, there is even less, unless they happen to have contact with the Boronar Clan. Which is to say, there is none."

Lady Tarra'az is far too experienced with Sharn to take offence to the strange tiny man who has barged in front of her, at least overtly. Nonetheless, she still smiles softly as
Darius attempts to put the halfling back in his place. She continues their conversation as if Nal didn't even exist.

"Rekkenmark is a fine city. I come from Atur myself, have you been? What is it that made you join with the military? Besides your national pride, of course."

As Breaker and Redemption converse, a third Warforged, who had been hanging around the sides of the hall joins them.

"Greetings," she says. "They call me Crucible. What has brought you to Sharn my brothers-of-the-forge?"

[GrimDarkOtter]

Darius plows on, temporarily distracted from the noble lady by the indignant halfling. "And what do you do when they move too? They come to fight, you move on. Next season your grazing lands have been replaced with irrigated fields and fortified settlements. They chase, you move, they dig in, you lose. Making a war of maneuver on the open plains was the only way to prevent Cyre from securing a flanking position around the eastern border. If the tribes had banded together sooner to secure their lands, a Talentan campaign by Karrnathi forces would have been unnecessary. Instead, the tribes, as you say, moved, leaving miles upon miles of flat, easily navigated land for Cyre to exploit. They would have marched through for a time, certainly, but then they would build roads, forts, farms and cowpens. And after us, it would have been you they sought to conquer."

Turning away from his verbal assailant, Darius takes a moment to compose his face into less of a frown and answers Lady Tarra'az. "I am afraid I have never been to Atur, my lady, my posting have primarily been to the south. As for my choice, well it was either the military or the clergy, and the Blood did not suit me."

[aivanther]

Breaker turns to the other warforged and says, "Greetings to you. I came to Sharn because it is here and this is where my feet lead in Breland at the end of the War. Though, the truth is I was more concerned where I was leaving than where I was going." Breaker reaches up and rubs the mark of ownership engraved on every warforged from the war, designating its owner. "Treaty or not, to most of these softies we are still property and I would not stand for it."

Breaker looks over the room, glancing particularly at the speaker, who was apparently now engaged in a vigorous dispute. It continues, changing the topic, "I came to hear what the softies say of the war. That one knows it, though he speaks to most who do not. What did you think of his talk?"

[sammichweasel]

Similarly ignoring the woman some more, the halfling pressed on. "You don't hold much stock in the power of the Wild, do you? Have you ever met an entity like Razorbeak, or The One Who Walks, or even the mighty Stormtooth?" At this last, the short one made a motion before him, not unlike a follower of the Flame, but somehow cruder.

"There is more to the Planes than simple skirmishes and war, and far more than roads and irrigation. Although I must say, those distilleries are one modernization I can get behind. But I digress. There are powers there that you appear to have not even considered! There is a reason the people of the Talenta region have been nomads for so long - permanence is not one of its strong suits. You've got a lot to learn before you go running around telling others about how you saved a bunch of egg-toothed softshells." The resulting look on his face left an opening, as though he was waiting for the rejoinder. He was clearly enjoying this.

[TheKhan]

"Well," Bonal says with a yawn, "I am afraid that I am no longer as spry as I once was and no longer have the energy for a political debate this late. I thank you again Captain. Once you are done here, please let yourselves out, security will lock up behind you. Perhaps if the two of you are able to resolve your differences to a degree, you could give a joint lecture. I think I would like that very much. Good night to you all." With that he turns and takes his leave of the hall.

It seems to be getting on as well for the Lady, as she says, "I am afraid I too must retire to the Grey House. Sir Baden, we must continue this conversation some time over dinner." With that, she extends her hand towards Darius palm down, clearly waiting for some sort of goodbye.

Crucible listens carefully to what Breaker has to say about humanity's perspective on Warforged and replies in a very even tone. "You are correct, but times, I think may be changing. There are some who support us, even if they do not do so openly yet. I know that many of our brothers have fled to The Mournlands to escape humanity, but I don't think we really need to."
It is at this moment that Bonal Geldem passes by the small group, his wrinkled face cracking into a wide smile. "It is always good to see new faces here, but few are as distinctive as you three. I hope I will see them again my forged friends. A good night to you."

"You see?" continues Crucible. "Our race is young and still growing. We need to understand the fleshed and give them an opportunity to understand us. That is why I am here, I was built as a support unit so I'm not much of a front-liner but I can try to understand these Karrns and how they wage war. Maybe I'll stumble upon something important in the way these people think. Or even the way I think."

"Either way, if you are new to Sharn, you must join us in the Upper Cogs sometime. My counterpart and I have procured an inn named the Red Hammer and we are catering to Warforged in search of companionship.

Glancing over in the direction the provost came from, she says, "It appears the crowd around our lecturer has diminished slightly. Shall we go pick his brains?"

[Ange]

The Talentan halfling was not the only relative oddity in the lecture hall. Most of the academics gave the particularly well-built shifter a wide girth; those who had the misfortune of sitting nearby were treated to the occasional grumbling or angry glare, especially if they were caught staring at the horrific burn marks marring his face. However, upon the completion of the lecture, the shifter seems ready to simply leave without another word... at least until Darius begins talking about Cyre again.

"Typical Karrnathi," he growls, his words not aimed at anyone in particular but loud enough to be overheard out the front. "always thinking they're oh-so-innocent when it comes to the war. Cyre never tried expanding her borders, nor would she have 'conquered' the Talenta Plains! We were not the ones raiding the halfling tribes, after all!" The shifter shakes his head with a disgusted expression, slinging his pack over his shoulder as he shoots Darius a dirty look. "Easier to blame people nobody gives a rat's arse about anymore, I suppose." Savrin makes to leave, although he pauses slightly to give a slight nod to the warforged at the back of the room. He'd served with many warforged during his time, and he had a great respect for them.

[aivanther]

Breaker shakes its head and says, "You have had a better experience than I. You see people coming around, I see exceptions to a rule." It gestures to a Shifter looking at them, "A Shifter gives us a gesture of respect, but meanwhile whole nations keep us as slaves!" The last part coming out at a shout.

It pauses a moment continues in a slightly lower, but still strident tone, "I don't know if abandonment of the softies is best or not, but I do know that we are machines of war, and in the eyes of most of these people that is what we continue to be. Understand them you ask? They made us, to them I was a sword that moved. Now Breland proclaims us free, but who else?" It stops, obviously still agitated. Breaker turns away for a moment, then turns back around and states, "I am sorry, mine is not a story like yours, and it is hard for me."

It looks at the others and changes the subject, saying, "If it pleases you, we can pick his brains."

[GrimDarkOtter]

As Nal starts on his tirade about the spirits of the wild, Darius replies with a sharp and simple "No." to the halfling's initial question. Once he has said his goodbyes to the Lady Jezel, he returns his gaze to the belligerent Talentan. "The so-called powers you speak of are simply another manifestation of the magic that pervades our world. Civilization has bound elementals to power our trains, ships and weapons, the more abstract powers of the wild are simply similar forces."

[sammichweasel]

His mouth gaping at this silly man's clearly blanket statement, Nal stammered a few times before squinting at him. "Are you joking? You're joking. You're not joking! You really think... wow. Okay, I have a fair number of things I need to show you, so don't think you're getting away from me. I have... a thing I have to do, but I'll be here tomorrow to show you what I'm talking about." Assuming he has an arrangement for the morrow, the halfling swiftly turned to leave. The tiny dinosaur on his shoulder flicked its tongue at Darius.

It definitely seemed to be on purpose.