Demon's Edge/ The fall of the kingdom of rings
Genasi artificer who lost his soul in the last war only to find it in a new one.
Originally, I was a human of cyrene, the third son to a minor noble family. I had always dreamed of mastering the talent of artifice. I enrolled in House Cannith and built warforged and weapons and discovered the wonders of magic for them, even with the war at its height I loved what I did, and when I was to be called as a healer to warforged who fought in a cyrian unit during the war I considered it an honor to fight for my country and house. But during the years I served I saw war unmatched, thousands dying with no hope of stoping.
what I just told you was a lie, the real truth, I did in fact show a talent for artifice, but it was not for just maintence of machines, it was for war. I fought along side the few warforged who served in an elite cyrian commando dark force. We were never given a name, We were simply called. Ghost Division. Our mission, make the war, a war fought mostly on cyrian soil, spilling cyrian blood for brelish and aundairian affairs so costly, so violent, that the other sides would experience a bloody victory, We killed generals in their sleep, we destroyed rail ways, we killed the men and women they sent to forcefully occupy our towns they took from us. We brought death to those who deserved it, and sometimes, to those who didn’t. I believed what I was doing, But soon, I realized that I was empty, blood spilt cannot be wiped away by more blood, and I came to realize that on a fateful day.
The day that changed my life was the day we fought at the battle of Bastyn. It has been pronounced the single most bloody day in the history of the hundred years war. Two hundred thousand died on the cyrean side alone during the three hours, starfire rained down from the sky, warforged titans crushed enemies below their feet and humans, half elves and warforged died in record numbers.
Our mission was to slay the key members of our missions, make them wish they never pillaged our country and raped our women, but during the battle I found a warforged, a warforged who was cut in half below the waist, I dragged its legless body through the mud and blood to a small creek and did my best to keep it alive, since that was one of my assignments along with my plans. The warforged, no more than five years old and new to life couldn’t understand what was happening to her.
“I lost my legs, I can’t feel them, am I going to die?” it asked looking up at me.
I ran my wand over her chest cavity, desperate to keep him alive, “what are you talking about, you are going to be fine”, I lied, “just get you some new legs,thats all”
The warforged grabbed my arm, stopping me from completing my useless work “I want to go home” it said to me.
“but you don’t have a home, you were made in the foundry” I said looking back at it.
“Then I want to go home with you” she said, stealing my breath from my chest, my hands grew cold and the battlefield sounds turned to a dull hush as I listened to every whispered word she spoke, realizing it was had in fact, based its personality on a female “I don’t want to die”, she said," I want to go with you and I want to see the world…to look at the oceans, see the talental plains, maybe even look at the great dragons of argossen, do you think they could let me see one? a real live dragon someday, when the war is over?" she asked, her life energy flickering away, leather cords and steel cables handing uselessly from her chest cavity. I knew she always loved to hear stories about dragons
“I bet you can, we will see it together I promise you, just stay with me” I say frantically working my healing spells over her, desperate to keep this unusual creature alive
“t-that would be nice…thank you artificer…for everything” and just like that she slipped through my grasp. As I wept over her now dead body I knew that the rumors were true, I knew deep down in my heart that warforged had a soul, they had a life filled to overflowing with hopes and dreams, fears and failures. They were alive
And we sent thousands to their deaths, hearts of children in cold metal suits to perish for a cause not their own.
I also learned something new as well, that this war would never end, that we hated ourselves too much for it to end. I grew weary, even all the damage the other side has done to my country couldn’t ignite the weary flame in my heart like it once did. from them onward that I lost all hope for the war, for house cannith, for cyrians and for khoirvaire. I died that day. I took helix’s face mask and I keep it close to me to never forget, to let her see the world like she wanted. And once the battle was over I became an empty shell, a ghost that drifted from battlefield to battlefield, then the mourning happened. That dark holocaust that wiped out everything I ever knew. All that they died for, all that we murdered for, was undone in a bright flash of light. I left house cannith and never turned back, I sought to live when I should have died so many times, my soul was tarnished beyond compare but I lived, for the sake of those who do not.
I live for the lost.