From War to Peace to... Where?
Jul 7, 2020 1:00:17 GMT -5
Post by Cobalt on Jul 7, 2020 1:00:17 GMT -5
Two years of War.
Two years of 'Peace.'
Exactly half of her life spend in each state, give or take as she didn't exactly know what date she'd been constructed on. But despite this, there was one thing Cobalt had come to learn for certain:
Some things never, ever changed.
Released from service in the military - in essence told 'The War's over, now get lost you bloody Warforged!' - the female-personality living construct had for a time wandered, rather lost, before she found out that she was expected, in a sense, to have an occupation. But she wasn't specialized enough to continue with the army of Breland, nor sturdy enough to gain employment as a guard or anything of that sort (granted, she probably did, but there were enough people of the 'no War, no Warforged' mindset to halt those plans thoroughly). She wandered for that first year, trying to figure out what she was supposed to do and in truth who she was beyond a soldier, eventually ending up in Sharn, the famed City of Towers. It was there that she met the company that she was currently with, an adventuring group that traveled all over Eberron and primarily the continent of Zen'Drik. They called themselves 'explorers' but within a few months Cobalt had another name for them: 'treasure hunters.'
(Not that she had an opinion on such a thing, people who would venture into old ruins and tombs from the past and take the valuables within. The dead weren't using it, now were they?)
A male human warrior-former-gladiator named Eli, Ryiah the half-elven female wizard, Gileon the halfling rogue, and a male human artificer who called himself Piersym, they had needed someone like her, she'd been told in the common room of a dingy inn. Someone strong, enduring, someone who could stand on the front lines with Eli without flinching. They had no proper cleric or priest in their group, see, so the more people able to take a beating, the better! And they did have an artificer who were trained to mend Warforged of their damage, so it worked out perfectly.
And in a way it had. Cobalt had begun traveling with them, fighting with them, keeping watch at night for them, carrying the bulk of their finds for them.
But she was never one of them.
Eli, who was clearly the leader, would never talk directly to her. If he needed something of her, he spoke to Piersym as if she belonged to him: 'Get the warforged to carry that crate.' 'Send it ahead to test the floor.' 'Get it patched up,' 'there's another room ahead.' Never 'she,' despite all the corrections Cobalt had attempted at first. Always 'it' or 'the Warforged.' Not that Piersym was much better. He treated her as if she always was in his debt for repairing her, or reminding her that she 'could only function' because of him. Ryiah, who came from the continent of Aerenal and revered her ancestors, ignored her as much as possible (sometimes putting her spells 'accidentally' too close), and insulting her more often than not for being a 'golem' when forced to speak to her at all. Only Gileon treated her with any sort of dignity, trying to speak up for her but frequently being out-voiced and ending up just shrugging helplessly at her. It was a gesture Cobalt appreciated, even if she didn't quite grasp why. But by this time there was little in their behavior to be misunderstood - they hated her, or at least thought of her as less 'living' than they. Was she? Cobalt just didn't know for certain.
But here they were, having just struggled through a veritable labyrinth of giant ruins. They had been within the place for multiple days, mostly through Cobalt's own efforts of keeping watch throughout their rest periods. Many traps and enemies had tried to waylay them, but now they were emerging with sacks of treasure (most of which Cobalt carried). The four were in high spirits, while Cobalt trailed at the back of the procession. She was deep in thought, wondering if this kind of existence was enough for her, if there wasn't something else out there. Or was this the best fate for a Warforged?
Suddenly, the floor beneath them all groaned, cracked, then gave way! Gileon swiftly leapt to safety, and Piersym quickly pulled out some tinkered device to latch to the wall and save himself. Ryiah cast, and began to fly.
But Eli was still falling, and so was Cobalt.
Reaching out, Cobalt dug her adamantine fingers into the stone of the new wall, sliding to a dead stop. She glanced up and saw the human falling towards her, reached out, and grabbed hold of him. His added weight caused her to slide another four inches before she stopped again. They were around twelve feet below the rim. Gileon was looking down and grabbing for rope from his pack, Piersym was climbing up, and Ryiah was watching worriedly, not having near enough strength to pull either of them up let alone the both of them. Cobalt's arm jerked as with an ominous ripping sound part of Eli's tunic tore in her grip, and her spasm made the stone under her fingers crack.
What Cobalt did next she didn't honestly think about. She just did it.
Flexing her arm, Cobalt heaved with all her might and threw Eli upwards as hard she she could. He slammed into the stone a scant foot below the rim, with the halfling quickly lunging to grab his leader and the man scrambling for a grip himself.
And the stone in the Warforged's grip broke away, sending her plummeting into the darkness below.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*
How long Cobalt fell she didn't know. Very quickly she passed beyond the light of the torches and daylight that had been ahead, and she lacked any sort of vision to pierce the blackness. She had banged against rock a few times, then landed with a clatter and a grunt of impact on a stone floor.
Darkness. Everywhere was darkness.
Feeling around, Cobalt found a wall, and used that to get to her feet. She felt sore all over, sensed internal structures damaged, but not badly. One leg was a little stuff, and her shoulder in particular ached. But she could move.
Looking up, she saw nothing but blackness. The same thing to all sides. Only the sensation of moving her head told her that she was actually looking around at all. Slowly she began walking forward, finding that she had seemingly found a deep tunnel. She could only hope that it reached the surface eventually.
Once more, and for a longer duration, time ceased to have meaning in the darkness. All she heard was her own steps, noises, and the scrape of her hand across the rock. All she felt was the stone she used as a guide. Cobalt couldn't say whether she was heading up or down, or into the belly of the Dragon Below, Khyber himself! Desperate to keep back the monotony that threatened the drive her out of her wits, she started counting her steps at some point.
At step five hundred and seventy-nine, she heard faint water.
At step eight hundred and thirty-two, she heard what was unmistakably a river somewhere ahead.
And at step one thousand, two hundred and twenty-eight, her right foot stepped ankle-deep into it.
Cobalt yelped in shock, not having any clue or forewarning that she was about to find the river. It was not very deep, but flowed solidly and was chill. This gave her hope - perhaps it led out somewhere! While it was risky, as common sense dictated that where there was water, there were predators, finding a way out of the caverns was vital. She stood still for a moment, feeling for the direction of the water, and began following the flow.
Hope lent the Warforged strength to speed her path, still walking with a hand to the wall and beginning to feel fish - at least she hoped it was fish! - bumping into her legs. The water rose a bit to just below her knees, but never picked up pace and she was more than sturdy enough to keep from being knocked over. It was still dark, but at least she had a goal!
"Hopefully I will emerge not too far from Stormreach," she said to herself, to hear a noise as much as anything. "Otherwise it could take years to escape the Traveler's Curse." She shuddered at the thought of being suffered to the whim of the force that bent time and space to its (often wicked) will. The port city of Stormreach was the only place on the mysterious continent that seemed immune to the power that could make even mountain ranges move location. If she could just get there, she would be alright.
The river seemed to be endless, but finally she began to notice that she could see her own blurry outline, a slightly darker shadow compared to the darkness around. Then she could see the river, then the rock as daylight began to illuminate her path. She heard and felt fresh air, and thought she heard - were those seabirds? Yes, it most certainly sounded like seabirds! She must be about to emerge along the coast. This was a good thing - the coastline rarely shifted, at least not so dramatically that she wouldn't be able to find her bearings and walk to Stormreach.
Finally, she turned a bend and was forced to throw her arm up to shield her eyes as she emerged from the tunnel, facing a sparkling blue ocean and pale sandy beach. Birds wheeled overhead along with small dragon-like things (okay, that was a little odd, but then again there were a thousand things unknown of in Xen'Drik), sunlight glimmered off of the water, and now finally able to get a good look at herself she found she was scuffed and dirty but otherwise very little worse for wear. She still had two of the backpacks she had been outfitted with, and though some of the smaller trinkets had been lost she had a bejeweled chalice, a few arm cuffs of gold and platinum, and a side pocket full of mixed coinage. She tested her arm chains to make sure they still worked - they did - then looked up at the sun to try and get a sense of direction. It was after mid-day, she believed, so she knew east and west or thereabouts. If this tunnel was anywhere close to their previous destination, she just had to travel west.
With little other notion (and no idea that in fact she wasn't on Eberron anymore) Cobalt turned and began walking.
Two years of 'Peace.'
Exactly half of her life spend in each state, give or take as she didn't exactly know what date she'd been constructed on. But despite this, there was one thing Cobalt had come to learn for certain:
Some things never, ever changed.
Released from service in the military - in essence told 'The War's over, now get lost you bloody Warforged!' - the female-personality living construct had for a time wandered, rather lost, before she found out that she was expected, in a sense, to have an occupation. But she wasn't specialized enough to continue with the army of Breland, nor sturdy enough to gain employment as a guard or anything of that sort (granted, she probably did, but there were enough people of the 'no War, no Warforged' mindset to halt those plans thoroughly). She wandered for that first year, trying to figure out what she was supposed to do and in truth who she was beyond a soldier, eventually ending up in Sharn, the famed City of Towers. It was there that she met the company that she was currently with, an adventuring group that traveled all over Eberron and primarily the continent of Zen'Drik. They called themselves 'explorers' but within a few months Cobalt had another name for them: 'treasure hunters.'
(Not that she had an opinion on such a thing, people who would venture into old ruins and tombs from the past and take the valuables within. The dead weren't using it, now were they?)
A male human warrior-former-gladiator named Eli, Ryiah the half-elven female wizard, Gileon the halfling rogue, and a male human artificer who called himself Piersym, they had needed someone like her, she'd been told in the common room of a dingy inn. Someone strong, enduring, someone who could stand on the front lines with Eli without flinching. They had no proper cleric or priest in their group, see, so the more people able to take a beating, the better! And they did have an artificer who were trained to mend Warforged of their damage, so it worked out perfectly.
And in a way it had. Cobalt had begun traveling with them, fighting with them, keeping watch at night for them, carrying the bulk of their finds for them.
But she was never one of them.
Eli, who was clearly the leader, would never talk directly to her. If he needed something of her, he spoke to Piersym as if she belonged to him: 'Get the warforged to carry that crate.' 'Send it ahead to test the floor.' 'Get it patched up,' 'there's another room ahead.' Never 'she,' despite all the corrections Cobalt had attempted at first. Always 'it' or 'the Warforged.' Not that Piersym was much better. He treated her as if she always was in his debt for repairing her, or reminding her that she 'could only function' because of him. Ryiah, who came from the continent of Aerenal and revered her ancestors, ignored her as much as possible (sometimes putting her spells 'accidentally' too close), and insulting her more often than not for being a 'golem' when forced to speak to her at all. Only Gileon treated her with any sort of dignity, trying to speak up for her but frequently being out-voiced and ending up just shrugging helplessly at her. It was a gesture Cobalt appreciated, even if she didn't quite grasp why. But by this time there was little in their behavior to be misunderstood - they hated her, or at least thought of her as less 'living' than they. Was she? Cobalt just didn't know for certain.
But here they were, having just struggled through a veritable labyrinth of giant ruins. They had been within the place for multiple days, mostly through Cobalt's own efforts of keeping watch throughout their rest periods. Many traps and enemies had tried to waylay them, but now they were emerging with sacks of treasure (most of which Cobalt carried). The four were in high spirits, while Cobalt trailed at the back of the procession. She was deep in thought, wondering if this kind of existence was enough for her, if there wasn't something else out there. Or was this the best fate for a Warforged?
Suddenly, the floor beneath them all groaned, cracked, then gave way! Gileon swiftly leapt to safety, and Piersym quickly pulled out some tinkered device to latch to the wall and save himself. Ryiah cast, and began to fly.
But Eli was still falling, and so was Cobalt.
Reaching out, Cobalt dug her adamantine fingers into the stone of the new wall, sliding to a dead stop. She glanced up and saw the human falling towards her, reached out, and grabbed hold of him. His added weight caused her to slide another four inches before she stopped again. They were around twelve feet below the rim. Gileon was looking down and grabbing for rope from his pack, Piersym was climbing up, and Ryiah was watching worriedly, not having near enough strength to pull either of them up let alone the both of them. Cobalt's arm jerked as with an ominous ripping sound part of Eli's tunic tore in her grip, and her spasm made the stone under her fingers crack.
What Cobalt did next she didn't honestly think about. She just did it.
Flexing her arm, Cobalt heaved with all her might and threw Eli upwards as hard she she could. He slammed into the stone a scant foot below the rim, with the halfling quickly lunging to grab his leader and the man scrambling for a grip himself.
And the stone in the Warforged's grip broke away, sending her plummeting into the darkness below.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*
How long Cobalt fell she didn't know. Very quickly she passed beyond the light of the torches and daylight that had been ahead, and she lacked any sort of vision to pierce the blackness. She had banged against rock a few times, then landed with a clatter and a grunt of impact on a stone floor.
Darkness. Everywhere was darkness.
Feeling around, Cobalt found a wall, and used that to get to her feet. She felt sore all over, sensed internal structures damaged, but not badly. One leg was a little stuff, and her shoulder in particular ached. But she could move.
Looking up, she saw nothing but blackness. The same thing to all sides. Only the sensation of moving her head told her that she was actually looking around at all. Slowly she began walking forward, finding that she had seemingly found a deep tunnel. She could only hope that it reached the surface eventually.
Once more, and for a longer duration, time ceased to have meaning in the darkness. All she heard was her own steps, noises, and the scrape of her hand across the rock. All she felt was the stone she used as a guide. Cobalt couldn't say whether she was heading up or down, or into the belly of the Dragon Below, Khyber himself! Desperate to keep back the monotony that threatened the drive her out of her wits, she started counting her steps at some point.
At step five hundred and seventy-nine, she heard faint water.
At step eight hundred and thirty-two, she heard what was unmistakably a river somewhere ahead.
And at step one thousand, two hundred and twenty-eight, her right foot stepped ankle-deep into it.
Cobalt yelped in shock, not having any clue or forewarning that she was about to find the river. It was not very deep, but flowed solidly and was chill. This gave her hope - perhaps it led out somewhere! While it was risky, as common sense dictated that where there was water, there were predators, finding a way out of the caverns was vital. She stood still for a moment, feeling for the direction of the water, and began following the flow.
Hope lent the Warforged strength to speed her path, still walking with a hand to the wall and beginning to feel fish - at least she hoped it was fish! - bumping into her legs. The water rose a bit to just below her knees, but never picked up pace and she was more than sturdy enough to keep from being knocked over. It was still dark, but at least she had a goal!
"Hopefully I will emerge not too far from Stormreach," she said to herself, to hear a noise as much as anything. "Otherwise it could take years to escape the Traveler's Curse." She shuddered at the thought of being suffered to the whim of the force that bent time and space to its (often wicked) will. The port city of Stormreach was the only place on the mysterious continent that seemed immune to the power that could make even mountain ranges move location. If she could just get there, she would be alright.
The river seemed to be endless, but finally she began to notice that she could see her own blurry outline, a slightly darker shadow compared to the darkness around. Then she could see the river, then the rock as daylight began to illuminate her path. She heard and felt fresh air, and thought she heard - were those seabirds? Yes, it most certainly sounded like seabirds! She must be about to emerge along the coast. This was a good thing - the coastline rarely shifted, at least not so dramatically that she wouldn't be able to find her bearings and walk to Stormreach.
Finally, she turned a bend and was forced to throw her arm up to shield her eyes as she emerged from the tunnel, facing a sparkling blue ocean and pale sandy beach. Birds wheeled overhead along with small dragon-like things (okay, that was a little odd, but then again there were a thousand things unknown of in Xen'Drik), sunlight glimmered off of the water, and now finally able to get a good look at herself she found she was scuffed and dirty but otherwise very little worse for wear. She still had two of the backpacks she had been outfitted with, and though some of the smaller trinkets had been lost she had a bejeweled chalice, a few arm cuffs of gold and platinum, and a side pocket full of mixed coinage. She tested her arm chains to make sure they still worked - they did - then looked up at the sun to try and get a sense of direction. It was after mid-day, she believed, so she knew east and west or thereabouts. If this tunnel was anywhere close to their previous destination, she just had to travel west.
With little other notion (and no idea that in fact she wasn't on Eberron anymore) Cobalt turned and began walking.