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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Graf" data-source="post: 2644755" data-attributes="member: 3087">For pure info here is the "backstory".*****************************Vision and thought returned quickly.The man straightened up from the battered little figure. His face wasflabby, he was not a soldier. "Looks like you were hit by an arrow."The warforged regained its feet, mind cluttered, "Eight hundred ninethousand, and eighty three." The first shot to have struck its eye. Ithad been a new sensation. And as was the rule for this warforged thenew sensation had been an unpleasant one."Hm?"The warforged shifted fully upright. Awaiting rebuke.Time passed. The flabby man's belt, sitting at eye level, revealed no secrets.Gingerly the warforged raised its eyes. If the flabby man was lookingaway would signal that it had been dismissed.But the eyes were staring down, big and blue. Some sort of responsewas required. Rapid, proper response may allow avoidance of rebuke."That is the eight hundred nine thousand, eighty third arrow to havestruck this unit.""You were used for target practice?""Affirmative.""What is your designation?""Target""Hmph." A pause. "The number you just provided was an estimate of thenumber of times you have been hit""It is not an estimate, sir."Time passed. The warforged looked at the belt. It presumed it wasstill being observed by those big blue eyes. Being watched was not anew sensation, but it was a persistently unpleasant one."You know how many arrows have hit you… How many were fired?""Sixteen million, one hundred and ninty nine thousand, eight hundredand ninety six, sir.""Were you told to remember these numbers?""No sir." Had it done something wrong?"Tell me something about the relationship between the numbers.""I am struck roughly once for every twenty hundred shots sir." Thewarforged found itself glancing around the small room. This sort ofconversation was new… Completely new; it was horrified."May I return to the range sir?""You may not. You've been inactive for a number of years, apparentlysince a lucky shot deactivated you. Do you know where you are?"The warforged looked about, the room was densely packed with allmanner of unfamiliar objects; the open door provided usableinformation. "The sign on the door says 'Apparently Useless Objects',sir.""Yes, it does. Its my office. You were sent here; so you are myresponsibility for now. And I have better things for you to do than beshot at."*************************Arck D'Canith was an important man. Yes, he was young, and yes, thehouse had not yet officially acknowledged his prowess. Since his bodystubbornly refused to develop a dragonmark it would require some time,but with his superior intellect and breeding it was simply a matter oftime before he rose high within the house. He knew that as surely ashe knew his own name.The problem was that certain... lesser... orders of creature haddifficulty understanding what the future would hold.The little runt of a warforged in front of him was shaping up to be anexcellent example."I am here to see Relys." It should not have been necessary to explainthis again, but so long as he was unranked he was forced to explainhimself over and over again to imbeciles. The cluttered office wasquite except for the quiet shuffling of paper."And you do not have an appointment. So you may wait." The perchedbefore him behind a cluttered desk the Warforged looked as wide as itwas tall; which wasn't saying much."I have been." Even sitting on a high stool its head did not reachArck's chest."Releys is not available yet." Arck took a deep breath, obviously itsmental capacity was barely advanced from that of its golem forbearers."You are hardly in a position to order me about." Lacking any of theadornments, features or -style- attached even to a 2nd decade model.As unsightly as anything that walked out of a creation forge."I have not forbidden you any course of action." An obvious defect.Relegated to desk work. It probably had been in the office for years."Master." it added. The metal hands never paused in their movement;paper moved inexorably from one side of the desk to the other."Then I will enter." Arck glanced around the room, filled wall toceiling with bric-a-brac it was the definition of cramped. To theright of the tiny desk a massive rune cover arch dominated the roomproviding the only exit other than the door he had entered through.The arch looked impressive, but given its presence in this officecould not have been. Something just interesting enough to be hauledfrom wherever it was found, probably picked up by some ideologue withan interest in ancient cultures or other rubbish."As you will." The creature gestured toward the arch. Veined in bluerunes the black stone was not immediately identifiable to Arck.Probably obsidian. Researched and discovered to be useless in shortorder, it had been brought down here to the bottom of the tower to rotin this insignificant little office.Arck strode through the arch confidently. Or at least he made a stepin that direction before the blue runes began to glow in an unpleasantmanner.A simple security measure? Arck pondered the situation. For all hisirrelevance Relys was not without a measure of standing. Due to hisadvanced age and nothing else. Surely. A ranked member of importancewould certainly never operate an office with such a pedestrian name asThe Office of Apparently Useless Objects.He was hardly going to be cowed by some ancient garden ornament. "I amArck D'Cannith." The runes continued to glow ominously. "Full bloodedheir of House Cannith," Arck was irritated to hear his voice risingslightly.He turned to address the midget warforged. "I command to give you thecode which dispels this gate.""There is no code. It is keyed. The key is with Master Relys." Itdidn't even turn to address him..."You do not have the right to keep me out. This insignificant littleoffice has nothing that is barred to me.""You are more than welcome to pass through the Arch." Its voicelingered on the last word in a way that made Arck shiver.He brushed off the feeling and took another step toward the gate. Therunes brightened noticeably. And there was now a deep humming runningthrough the little office. "If this is not a security measure. WHY isit in front of his office?""As you have noted sir our office is quite insignificant. Its sizereflects this. That is the only place it could be placed in the room."A quick glance around the packed room certainly supported the littlefreak's claim. Realizing this did noting to improve Arc's rapidlyworsening mood.Arck took another step toward the gate. The runes were now brighterthan the everburning torch hanging over the warforged's desk. The airinside the arch seemed to shimmer slightly. Arck was sure he wassweating only because of the heat from the arch. Certainly not becauseof nerves."It is rarely fatal." "Sir." Jars and vials around the room had takento clattering together in sympathy with the godsaweful humming."I'll wait." Arck returned to the uncomfortable bench. He would havesworn that he saw the little misanthrope's faceplate turning up in thecorner of his eye but when he looked over the metal was a featurelessas ever, without even the hint of a smile.******************************************************************"I have been to this office a DOZEN times over the last THREE weeks."Arck D'Cannith was not screaming. He was talking loudly. And with goodcause."Yes sir. Yes you have." The creature did not raise its eyes. Paperscontinued to flow across the desk from left to right. The quillswooped and dove like some hairy insect."And yet you will not let me through this infernal gate without makingme wait!""You do not have an appointment." The little piece of junk was almostcertainly this battered because of beatings doled out over itsinsufferable attitude. The quill and papers continued their ceaselessdance."I had an appointment yesterday!""That is a day that is not today." From creature's tone of voice youwould think it was talking to itself, or another wretched servantcreature. Serving in this office had given it airs."Yesterday, when I came here, the office was closed!""Master Relys was on short-term sabbatical."Arck had no idea who had decided to attempt to create a scout modelwarforged with heavy armor plating. Or who had decided to put it inthis office. But he was sure that that anyone who had made anydecision involving this creature that did not involve turning it backinto scrap metal the second it stepped out of the creation forge wascursed with singularly poor judgment."I am HERE - FOR - MY - APPOINTMENT!""Which was yesterday. You do not have an appointment now. Or anytimetoday. I would be happy to look at master Relys' schedule and seeabout scheduling you for next week."Arck was driven to uncharacteristic violence. He would have been hardpressed to explain what he was expecting when he reached out to grabthe creatures arm. He expected haul it off of its little stool andgive it a good shaking. Or something. "We made you! You ungratefullittle sub-sentient..."Arck was certainly not expecting, a hideous snapping sound. He let goreflexively. But the damage was done.The creature's arm was twisted at a hideous angle. Ink slowly spreadfrom quill tip across papers, stubby metal fingers twitchedspasmodically. Arck imagined some tiny metal sea creature had beacheditself upon the desk and was slowly suffocating."I... I barely touched you." Arck's voice was unfortunately squeaky.The creature's other hand scooped up the quill from the spreading poolof ink on the paper."As you say sir." The quill returned to its ink pot.Arck felt dizzy. The warforged was house property. He had damagedproperty of the House Cannith. He swallowed back bile reflexively. Thehouse of making looked singularly poorly upon damaging house property."I have a cousin, Marex, he's marked. He can repair you." Yes, yes,keeping things quiet would be the best way to handle things. Marexwould come through. He just needed a little bit of time."Hardly necessary sir." The warforged brought its arm up and down onthe table with a shockingly loud bang.When Arck opened his eyes the quill was in hand and papers wereflowing across the desk again."Your... joints?""The project to combine mithril jointing in an adamantine frameresulted in extreme side effects. For example: my construction diagramdid not intend for me to be this size." Arck was to startled torespond to the creature's insolent tone of voice."You were not supposed to be a scout model?""I was constructed several years before work began on scout models."The construct's mouth line was squeezed together.Arck found himself with nothing to say."Shall I schedule you for next week sir," the warforged's mouthfloated back to its original, neutral setting."That will be acceptable," Arc's voice was not recovered as much as hewould have liked.As the creature finished noting Arc's new appointment it noted, "I amprecisely as grateful to House Cannith as I should be. Sir."Arck turning reflexively to leave. It not until he reached the doordid he realize that he felt like he had been dismissed.*********************************************Vaber D'Canith was surprised at how little he felt at the sight ofRelys was sitting across from him."Better than my ballon idea. Hmm?" the portly man was leaning forward,smile twisting impishly.Years of dealing with younglings allowed Vaber face to flow naturallyinto a frown, once they had been such rivals, he and Relys. And themere sight of that impish grin would have sent the thin man into afroth. But years had passed since then. Neither of them had amountedto much as artificers. He was man enough to admit it."Yes, well, it would require a singularly terrible idea to trump theidea of a flying ship held aloft by a bag full of explosive gas." Notthat Vaber would just roll over; Relys had crawled off into his littlehole years ago. Vaber had stayed the course and found a way tocontribute; as a teacher if not a practitioner."As opposed to the solution we accepted; which involved the extremelysafe system of shackling hostile extradimensional beings composed ofelemental fire to fragile wooden vessels. Yes, a magnificentimprovement in safety." In his time Vaber had cultivated some of thefinest Artificers in the house.... and he understood that geniusrequired a certain amount of coddling."Both... systems had their merits." Coddling. Years of practice keptVabers tone neutral. He wasn't going to miss out. Not going to argueold arguments. The war was taking so many of their best. Everyone wasneeded now. He was man enough to rise above the jabs、he would giveRelys no excuse to crawl back into his cave. Not when he couldcontribute.Relys leaned back. Hands clasped in front of his face, but he wassmiling so hard wrinkles were still visible stretching back to hisears. Vaber wasn't sure why he was smiling. But it didn't matter. Hiseyes drifted downward to the schema in front of him. Office ofApparently Useless Objects it was labeled. Above that was stampedOffice Use only."You liked it?" It was a new schema. Not something that Relys had dugout of some lost garden ornament. Years of absence from the field orthe singular oddness of its writer left the notation in a much to bedesired state, but there was vision here."Yes." He found it hard to say but it was a plain fact. The creativevision was undeniable.The only artificer in that tiny little office was Relys. He'd had itdouble checked. And Relys was entirely too proud to have faked it.Anyway Vaber knew about all existing research within the house. Nobodywas working on Homunculi. Post the creation of the warforge it was adead field... or it had been. He had thought Relys' family's privatelibrary was wasted down there…"It needs to be developed. Brushed up. It has serious problems. Eventhen viability would be a serious issue." His tone didn't match hiswords.He touched the report. He knew how it began. He'd seen it before. Oneidea, one good new vision, could drive others. When Merrix had startedwork on the forges no one knew where it would come from.... theJuggernauts had been incredible but when the actual warforgedappeared...Another good idea like that could spark a hundred; it could give birthto a roaring bonfire of creation. Or it could be another dud, anotherpromising dead end. But with the war as it was there was preciouslittle time for research, and innovative visions were few."But yes," Vaber continued, "it is a good idea." Even Relys' balloonidea had helped the airship development process. It had taken himyears to admit it, but it was true. He was man enough to admit it."So I suppose the person who wrote it would have to be trainedextensively. Get their notation up to snuff." It was a positivelyhumble attitude. Relys had grown.Vaber felt the tension draining from his neck as he struggled to keephis mouth from gaping. Relys was coming back. Finally.Uncustomary feelings of generosity took hold. "Hold on... the notationis... unfortunate. But you've been out of practice a while; its quiteunderstandable. I won't be sticking you in a room full of younglings.""I didn't write it.""You... it...", Vaber sputtered. "It says..." He wassputtering。Sputtering Vaber just like when they were students.Relys' hands were behind his head. His smile was huge and wolfish."Office of Apparently Useless Objects. Yes. It was developedcompletely in my office. I'll swear to that. And I expect you'll askme to."Vaber stopped. His mind spun. He had checked. For the last eight yearsthere had been no personnel movements in or out of the office. JustRelys in that tiny little room.The room spun slowly about him. Had it come from outside? An artificeroutside of the house? The paper was modern.Vaber struggled to retain control, he let his mind try to form apattern. It was one of Relys' damn puzzles.He cast his mind back. Vaber had been in the office last 6 years ago.Relys 50th birthday. He had ducked in at his wife's insistence. Tinyroom, too many people, undrinkably strong drinks being passed out bythat defective little creature. Appallingly really ill-mannered, noidea why Relys would keep... would keep…"You trained that little defect to be an artificer," things werelocking into place. Years in a small room, a devoted little servant, aweak willed man. The mind boggled."You think I came up here to admit to that? I'm rather attached to my head.""It taught -it-self?" The room stopped spinning. Everything fit.Nothing made sense yet but Vaber knew what truth sounded like."Theory really. No practical skills to speak of. The notational usagewas inspired I thought.""We don't train warforged."Relys was laughing. "I can think of several countries who would becurious about what it is they are hiring when we sell them warforgedartificers.""That's... different...," Vaber was sputtering again. "They're takenfresh from the forge. They absorb quickly and then we turn them out.They do what they're told.""Fixing, hmm?" Vaber flinched like he had been struck. The word was ananathema in the house. The House made things. Fixing was the provinceof magewrights; the House was a place of creation."The warforged training process… its ten years squeezed into a one....or less.... And it only works right after they leave the forge. Thatthing has been down in your office for years.""And it was inactive for years before that. So I suppose the questionis.... is he worth teaching the old way?"Vaber looked down at the report. But he realized the matter was already decided."I suppose you're going to want me to help you find a new assistant?""I could use some more space too; the current offices are a bit cluttered.""Don't push your luck," though he tried mightily Vaber couldn'tsucceed in frowning.</blockquote>

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