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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Isida Kep'Tukari" data-source="post: 4124670" data-attributes="member: 4441">You hunt around Greenheart for a person skilled in manufacturing, and begin to notice several odd things about it.  There is no public market per se, nor are their any taverns.  There are a few public houses, where vittles and drink can be obtained along with a big of floor space to sleep, but as for places purely for the entertainment of strangers, not so much.  This is the spiritual heart of the druid sects, and most of the town revolves around them.  However, you are eager to prove your worth, and know that artificers are so wide-spread that somewhere in this town there must be one!  It takes you several hours, many awkward questions, two dozen disdainful glances, and seventy-three wrong turns, but you eventually arrive at the home/business of someone named Dog.  The place is carved from the living wood of an enormous tree, the windows and doors screened with vines, and with no sign upon the door.  But inside the place has many shelves that contain familiar implements of artifice, but almost as many rare potted plants and preserved flora.An enormous shaggy dog, easily tall enough at the shoulder to reach your waist, leaps up to greet you with a sloppy lick to the face and a few excited barks."Small Dog, down!" comes a gruff voice from the back, with a curious accent, or lack of one, that sounds oddly familiar.  The dog breaks off his greeting and sits, wagging his tail, his tongue lolling from his mouth.  Out of the vined-off back comes an unusual sight, a warforged, but one without any metal components to his body.  Indeed, small flowers and vines seem to grow from his wooden "flesh.""I am Dog, stranger.  And since you have gone to great trouble to find me, let us see what is so important to track me down," the warforged says, waving for Kurst to sit at a table in the corner.  The shaggy hound goes to flop down under the table, pinning Kurst's feet.  Assuming Kurst lets Dog see the meshes and gives him at least a general idea of where they were found, Dog will examine them minutely, even using a magnifying glass, checking handwritten journals, and carefully manipulating them with small tools.  After nearly a half hour, he will give his opinion."I saw something of this nature only a single time before, and have heard of similar things only one other time from a sole survivor in a brother regiment.  When I saw something with similar construction, it was on some twisted thing from Khyber.  I believe it was a hobgoblin at one point in time, but somehow it had been warped.  It had a sword blade put on right where its arm had been, but it was not just a simple blade.  There were things on it, like this mesh, which went from the sword under the skin.  And sometimes the sword would pulse with an energy that destroyed everything it touched.  It was a hard battle, and we lost five that day.  The other time, I was told some goblin-like Khyber creature held a weapon in its hands that let razor disks fly from it, but when the weapon was captured and someone tried to use it, it exploded and killed many.  I was told it too had things on it, like the hobgoblin's arm-sword.  But it was only a rumor," Dog says, its still, dark eyes distant.  "Many people died during the war, and there was not enough time to look into each and every death, particularly not ours.  I do not know for certain what these meshes do, but the two times I know of encounters with similar things, much harm has resulted.  I say be rid of them and be glad of it.  If things were put into a creature's head without consent, then I say they might be used to manipulate the mind, and to me that means whoever did this is at the least cruel and selfish," Dog says finally.</blockquote>

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