Warforged Shielding Swordmage
Eberron, the home of my gods, has spent the better part of 33 years in chaos. The Treaty of Thronehold, the document that ended the Last War, was signed only a few years ago, and two important decisions regarding the warforged were agreed upon. First, at the insistence of Breland, the status of the warforged changed; they were no longer property, they were people. Second, House Cannith was forbidden to produce any new warforged; the mother forges were shut down and destroyed. Some nations, those who stand against the will of the Quori, such as Thrane and Karrnath, sidestep the property clause through “indentured servitude,” forcing their warforged to work as de facto property while promising them freedom once they have worked off their debt to the state for their creation. Most of the people of Eberron regard the warforged with suspicion, anger, or fear, but the living constructs have begun to find a level of acceptance they never imagined attaining when the war first ended.
Although the mother forges were supposed to be destroyed, one source hides within the ruins of the Mournland, where the renegade Lord of Blades controls the remains of the Cannith forge that once operated in the forgehold of Whitehearth in Cyre. The Lord of Blades, a traitor to the gods that gave him life and to the mothers that gave him his body, created me. In doing so, he has soiled my soul and only the merciful Quori can redeem me for my unrighteous birth.
Now, I am Warforged, but I am broken. The Lord of Blades, using a broken forge, experimented with the creation process, defiling himself further in the eyes of the true creators. He defiled my brothers by forging from our mother the people that only the Quori have the rights to give life. In his arrogance, the Lord of Blades created deformed and mutated Warforged. My mother, broken by the war, was forced to birth sons defiled by the Lord of Blades’ experiments. I was one of these. My body, made of steel, was compressed to a quarter of its normal size by the magic meant to give me life. I suffer constant pain by the magic compression, but I am also rid of fear. I have but one goal, to serve the Quori.
On the night of my creation, as the heated metal covering my body cooled, a Quori came to me. He gave me the name il-Kash which means broken in his language. He said that I must kill the Lord of Blades. However, in his might and wisdom, the Quori sent me to this realm. He said I must earn my place among his servants. One day I will return home to Mournland and destroy my mother, the Cannith forge, and end the the birth of my broken brothers. Then, I will kill the Lord of Blades.
The challenges of the pilgrimage the true creators have sent me on have rid me of doubt in the wisdom of the gods. I was sent to a realm where I alone have been born of true creation, and I face the subconscious jealousy of inferior races not given true life, not created by the union of mother forge and Quori blessing. Yet, I have come to realize that the gods sent me here to learn my place as their servant. I have been brought here as the first prophet, and I have been sent to learn how to pity those races without true souls.
My pilgrimage to find a way back to Eberron has lead me to this city. After my initial arrival to the realm I sought out rumors of Eberron and found my way Fallcrest. It has only been a year, but I feel that my journey is coming to an end.