lockenport.hivemind.net

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====== Clunk ====== {{ http://www.brianbaum.com/art/warforged.jpg?300}} //Warforged charge in where immortals fear to tread// In front of you stands a tall, heavy set construct of war, his metallic skin weathered and full of scratches bearing witness to years of combat. Unlike later models his face is purely utilitarian and not designed to mimic any human features, certainly not for any expression that one would call friendly. The working of inner mechanisms faintly audible, he is especially fond of using louder combat systems, like the spinning up of flywheels, to punctuate any statements. **Were you born in Lockenport, or elsewhere?** Clunk from dwarven army. Decommissioned two years ago. **Do you have a big family? Do you stay in touch with them?** Clunk serial 4671-314. Not many old numbers left. **What are your religious beliefs?** No rows selected. **Do you have any famous ancestors?** 4671-023, broke the siege of Uruz. The same model as Clunk. The first free warforged. **What sort of education or training have you had?** Mechanized Infantry Unit, class 4. Good with hammer and shield. Trained in healing. **Do you have a trade (other than "adventuring")?** Only three fingers. **Do you have many enemies?** No. Enemies dead. **What style of clothes do you favour?** Clothes for squishies. Warforged not squishy. **Have you ever killed someone?** Yes. **What is your opinion of the Lockenport authorities?** (*click-whirr-clunk*) No rows selected. ===== Clunk's Journal ===== There was quite a commotion today, but I can't remember much of it. I asked Sergeant what our mission is, he said that now it is to be free. I asked him how we do that, he said he didn't know. I asked him where and he replied that Lockenport is a good place to start looking. I said 'aye Sir'. The Forgemaster told me that freedom is not a mission, but more like a fact; a marble like truth. Not something that can be seen or touched. He told Sergeant to report me to Technical if I don't understand, but I think I do. Chief Undermountain said not to worry too much, but to keep a journal as it might help me to trace as they leave grooves where they run. I arrived in Lockenport today, it is a big city full of squishies. Most of them seem scared or act as if I'm damaged, but I guess they don't know any better. At the adventurers guild I found mister Gralik just like the chief said I would, and I gave him his letter. Finally part of squadron again. The others may all be squishy, but they seem nice enough. I think I will follow them around for a while. Soon we will go on our first mission. Thread completed. $freedom found freedom is function of self set self.property_of := self; set sef.commanding_officer := self; ERR517: circular reference ERR672: missing pointer :\> locating $freedom [0% …] Wow. That was weird. Like falling. Would I even have remembered Uruz and the metalheads, if I had not seen that lady crossing the street? I met another warforged in Tinkett today, called Detritus. He didn't look like any of the models I'm familiar with, but he was really nice to me - I will remember him. There were also many warforged working in the mines outside Stitch today, but they were somehow different. One of them looked just like Captain, and even had the same serial number- yet it was not him. Almost like he was just not there anymore, . How would I know if I am the same Clunk today as yesterday? Could I also be removed from my chassis like that? Could Captain be brought back? Is this what clerics mean by soul? [XP awarded 2010-09-11] ==== Citadel of the Dead ==== Squishies are really weird creatures, seemingly never satisfied with what they are. Our current mission is to recon an enemy stronghold on the mainland. Our route took us through Calderway Town where it seems the inhabitants get together and dress up as things other than themselves. To what purpose I have no idea. We encountered a heavy sandstorm on our way to the tower. Impossible to see or hear anything, and it's going to take weeks to work the sand out of my gears. The first step in avoiding a trap is knowing it's there, but rather than avoid the wagon we chose to approach it carefully. Still the tentacled beast managed to surprize us with it's powerful reach and we barely escaped with our lives. Our lives and an impressive glowing greatsword. Turns out the find was most fortunate, as it protected us from the wraiths of madness lurking in the shadow of the tower. Sadly we did not manage to retrieve Fleng, and complete the mission. But we did find another squad that can help to explain what happened. [XP awarded 2010-10-17] ==== A Murder Mystery ==== Squishies sure have strange attitudes around getting scrapped. Going to all the trouble of building the warforged to do that by the thousands, and then kicking up a big fuss when one or two of them are damaged. When they are broken, the decaying bits are stored in fancy marble halls, or buried with heavy stones on top - as if to stop the body from escaping. Yet they insist that which makes the body tick, the soul, is no longer there. Curious. I guess there is not much else to do with it as there are no real components to reuse. Our mission was centered around just such a fuss today as wee were hired to investigate the circumstances around a person who was murdered. The investigation lead us to the most bizarre creation I have ever seen - the gooey bits of a squishy preserved in a jar - apparently keeping the soul there through some kind of alchemy. So maybe I was wrong about the recycling of their bits. Jett was again killed, but in the end we destroyed the whole mess including the factory to make these nasty things. Thread completed. $freedom found ERR517: circular reference ERR672: missing pointer :\> locating $freedom [0% …] Another one. No conscious intent, no effort, a moment of sudden clarity. If there was no effort involved, did I have a choice? Could it have been determined or preset somehow? How would I know the difference? [XP awarded 2010-12-13] ==== Sleeper Agents ==== Most squishies have the need to sleep, a very curious state. The daze they go into seem to leave them almost completely unaware of their surroundings, and some even say that they go to other places. Sure, whilst remaining in exactly the same spot. What is it that stays and what is it that goes? People in Lockenport started falling asleep today and then not waking up. We found the symbol of Torog, the King that Crawls inscribed under all their resting places. This is certainly some kind of witchcraft and it seems that those who fell asleep are lost and unable to return to their bodies. Some even started to decay and one wonders just what happens to the other bits that are lost. Are they aware? Of what? We met an old lady who turned out to be not-so-squishy after all, but who was bound into doing Torog's will. She wanted out and helped us to destroy him. Or more accurately, his vessel. I wonder if Torog is the kind of deity to keep a grudge. Somehow I suspect so. [XP awarded 2011-02-28] ==== Lagoon Hauntings ==== Our commander used to say that the value of a movable wall lies in it's immovability, and therefore insisted that the front line be equipped with retractable spikes on their feet. For our mission to Dunsey today the guild allowed us to commission one item and I decided to heed those words and get spiked soles. The dwarfs at Undermountain and Sons turns out to have had quite a bit of experience with mechanized infantry, and a lot of spare parts. The mission itself was not too troublesome. There was a strange creature that seemed particularly interested in our leader (and anything else squishy really) but largely ignored me. Oh yes, and all manner of walking dead creatures about that caused all manner of troubles. None of this made any sense, but it the mission turned out a success nevertheless, and the spikes definitely worth it. [XP awarded 2011-03-14] ==== Behir Hunt ==== We were programmed to follow the chain of command without question, but the longer I'm around these creatures of flesh and bone the more I'm understand that freedom from this is crucial to the greater good. We were contracted to capture a young behir and return it alive, presumably for the amusement of some squishy. It sounds innocent enough, a necessity really, one to protect both predator and prey. Whilst pursuing the beast we somehow managed to stray into the feywild. Killing the giant formorian was less difficult than amusing the fey Court of the Whispering Winds. Apparently an event orchestrated from the very beginning. In return we received splendid magical circlets, a gift that I keep as reminder of the lightness of being experienced there. On our return it became clear that the there was something very strange around the whole behir business, but not everyone could perceive or understand it. When I started off I'd have simply followed the orders, but something made us hesitate and with the council of Leetor and Acorn we eventually decided to let Zizwen go. It was definitely the right thing to do. ==== Return to Lezhar ==== I'm beginning to think these meatbags consider us nothing more than clockwork pawns in their games; as if the soul of one is worth more than that of another. In Tinkett I got to see Detritus again although something was clearly wrong with him. Leetor risked taking a look under the hood and saw that he had been tampered with, but couldn't fix it. Of course the reaction of some was that the warforged was simply irrelevant, and that the destruction of Detritus was a fair trade off to the risk of being spied upon- or something worse. Luckily we decided to let things be as it was only with the aid of the crystal embedded inside Detritus that we could activate the wards in the marshland. Worryingly there is now an army of undead heading South towards the coast. This can only mean one thing: war. The mysterious circumstances around Detritus, his lack of freedom, the ability and willingness of humans to control of our thoughts and actions, and the oncoming war makes it clear that it is more important than ever that I remember. What is freedom, and how does one get there. Why did they take our memories, and could there be hidden commands lurking in my programming? Would I be able to resist it if need be? [XP awarded 2011-04-25] ==== Festival of the Moons ==== Today was clearly an important day for the citizens of Lockenport, although for us it mostly involved guard duty. One unusual thing was combating a shark under water which was a lot more fun than I expected it to be. However as salt is known to cause rust I had to pass by the smithy for some maintenance and a nice oil bath. There I saw a huge heap of salvage at the back, apparently fresh out of Dunderveldt, from a merchant who came for the festival. So far the Undermountains have managed to build almost a complete warforged from it, named Zed by the apprentice who first activated him. He is still missing his legs and sits in the corner talking to customers, but seems very friendly and well informed. It is clear that he (or rather his head) has seen quite a bit of combat and knows a lot about our programming and history. He advised me to invest in a command bracelet, but I'm going to stick to tanking for moment, what with the oncoming horde and being in the front line and all. Maybe with the completion of my next mission I'll be able to afford fancy communication equipment. [XP awarded 2011-10-22] ==== The Hammer ==== I asked Zed today if he thought we had souls. The chief overheard and told us one of his stories. Of the ancient hammer he uses. Forged in forgotten times, it has been passed from father to son for countless generations. It is not unbreakable, the wooden handle has been replaced many times, even once by the chief himself. Nor is it particularly magical, and even the adamantine head had been shattered and remade at least once. Yet, somehow, it remains the same magnificent hammer that his grandfather used. The hammer continues, independent of components. \\ Hence, he argues; \\ if a hammer (can do that) \\ then why not a warforged? ==== Threat of the Undead Horde ==== I finally bought that bracelet Zed kept talking about, and he's right, words just seem so clumsy now. I wonder if it will be all that useful in battle though, especially as I'm surrounded by squishies. Nice enough as they are, their thoughts are just so //different//. This endless waterfall of words. Not that there is any time for practicing with them either, as we've just received news that the undead are on the move; under water and heading straight for the island. Seems the humans forget that not everyone needs to breathe. ===== Clunk's Stats ===== {{Clunk9.dnd4e}} In meta-game the emphasis for the character is on strength, constitution and wisdom, with the weakest attributes being charisma and intelligence.