Warforged
When Dwarves and Gnomes Unite
The devils have the Nine Hells, demons have the Abyss. P.P.M. (Plane Prime Material) dwellers have Mil Bazon.
The Raucous Home of Dwarves Mil Bazon. The Thrice-stained Jewel of the Thin-Aired Peaks. The Triumphant Degenerates of the Mithril Veins. But enough about their benevolent qualities.
Not too many Gnomes enjoy the overcrowded and overrun streets of cities. They much prefer the open, verdant plains of Wyn and Forests of Greccia, akin to their ancestral Feywild. What does a Gnome have want of in such a lush land kissed by Pelor? Well, the small ambitious clan of Fellflower thought plenty was needed elsewhere, and in the land of Dwarves no less.
Dwarves, by their nature, are rough but kind-hearted. You cannot even slip on the streets of Mil Bazon or even Evoria's Deep Golog without Bazoner or Gologer offering medical guidance and a fortnight's rest in their own homes. The Dwarves are neighborly but practical, on the whole. The Dwarves on the deep side of Mil Bazon, the Engineers as they call themselves, refrain from such pleasantries in lieu of their second trait, progress.
And so it was in the year 2705 during the coldest Erewinter on record that Fellflower and Engineers met west of the Marwall. They traveled hand-in-hand, exchanging blueprints and ideas. Gnomes have a propensity toward magic in their machinations while Dwarves are more mechanical. The marriage between the two was hashed and the honeymoon was to be in Mil Bazon, in the Deep Delves where the Engineers stay. Here in these depths the Gnomes stood out like a initiate ranger's lure, but they cared not, for the Dwarves and Gnomes saw past each other's appearances and indulged only their driving ambition and lust for their creation.
After a year of hard working, both having prototypes at first, they finally were able to construct life. It stood over six feet tall, broad shouldered, and sentient. It was made for one purpose in mind, and in training it fulfilled that duty faithfully. They called it Warforged.
The Warforged was soon replicated in the Delves twenty times. These were used a manual laborers and demanded compensation for their work, quickly learning the languages of both species. The two creating species delighted in this curiosity and indulged their creations if only to see what would occur.
Now, reader, as you can probably tell by the tone, many see this as ill omen. The Warforged are as shunned in Mil Bazon's upper regions as Dragons are in Evoria. Only a few have managed to slip away from the city, unflinching by the cold, cold winters or hot, hot summers. Their keen need to obey fulfills them, though some do prefer to take up lives as adventurers, though they do not know how.
There is much stigma concerning this artificial life and for good reason. They do not, as far as we know, have souls, so where does their consciousness go when they expire? The Dwarves say they simply cease to exist, but the Gnomes have a fantastical belief that their consciousness goes into the Ethereal Plane to wander aimlessly until devoured by something monstrous and evil. The truth can never be fully realized.
Apart from this, more concern of the artificial life stems from what monstrous thing could be created next, and what makes Warforged any different from an undead? A whole new consciousness is as blasphemous as one brought back from beyond the tangible veil. What sort of things were conjured when creating these machines? What do we know of their motivations? What if they do develop to create their own? I suppose at that point they would be a true species, but as of now their abominable existence marked from the cavalier direction of their creators signifies them as something to be wary of if not downright despised.
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