Zardnaar
Legend
That's how it basically went and it's irrelevant to my OP.
D&D General Warforged? How Long Could One Live For?
- Thread starter Zardnaar
- Start date
That's how it basically went and it's irrelevant to my OP.
Zardnaar
Legend
Hey, don't look at me. I'm not the one who put it in my OP, and asked the audience if we got it in that OP.
Argyle King
Legend
Just had a weird idea for a villain:
A Warforged necromancer who poses as a lich (but is still alive) because it causes people hunting him to prepare incorrectly.
Perhaps he's doing necro-tech* experiments to better understand the connection fleshy bodies have (or don't have) to their souls and sentience.
*using "bio-tech" didn't seem quite right when talking about undead servants
Maybe he even has a partial link to his undead servants via implanted mechanical parts that are linked in a manner similar to networked computers or wireless devices to a Bluetooth connection. He cannot fully control their physical movements, but he can spy on intruders, activate weapons systems embedded into servants, and etc.
A Warforged necromancer who poses as a lich (but is still alive) because it causes people hunting him to prepare incorrectly.
Perhaps he's doing necro-tech* experiments to better understand the connection fleshy bodies have (or don't have) to their souls and sentience.
*using "bio-tech" didn't seem quite right when talking about undead servants
Maybe he even has a partial link to his undead servants via implanted mechanical parts that are linked in a manner similar to networked computers or wireless devices to a Bluetooth connection. He cannot fully control their physical movements, but he can spy on intruders, activate weapons systems embedded into servants, and etc.
jmartkdr2
Hero
If I even play a warforged this will be their obsession: claiming (or better yet building) a Creation Forge to ensure the survival of the species - since they don't know how long individuals will last, they're likely to feel a time crunch to get this done.
Laurefindel
Legend
Heh, I had never realized that for warforged, contrary to all other races/species, the more complex the class, the younger you tend to be!
This suggests that warforged didn’t train for much more than a year before getting to level 1; it’s just that they have been producing fighter warforged for much longer than they have been producing wizard warforged.
Found trhis blurb in the intruduction of races of eberrron describing a chapter that nicely sums it up
WARFORGED IN D&D
Although warforged were created for use in the EBERRON
campaign setting, they make an excellent character race
for any D&D® game. Warforged are particularly appro-
priate in a high-magic setting where war has been an
ongoing feature in the land. They might be relics from
ancient times, only recently reactivated, or they might
be new creations still in service for various powerful
nations or organizations.
When warforged are used, DMs should be mindful of
potential controversies regarding the warforged: Do they
have a soul? How are they affected by being unable to
heal? They are affected as both a construct and a living
being, so including aspects or effects that target constructs
can be an effective way of including the warforged in the
action and getting around any seeming invulnerability the
race might have.
Warforged are perennial outsiders, longing to be ac-
cepted but forever the “other.” How do various races in
your campaign regard warforged? Are they part of a larger
society, or are they too scarce to form any concerted move-
ment? Do they even want to live among other races, or do
they look down on those who wish to be something other
than what they are?
The answers to these questions should provide role-
playing opportunities for warforged throughout your
campaign.
Although warforged were created for use in the EBERRON
campaign setting, they make an excellent character race
for any D&D® game. Warforged are particularly appro-
priate in a high-magic setting where war has been an
ongoing feature in the land. They might be relics from
ancient times, only recently reactivated, or they might
be new creations still in service for various powerful
nations or organizations.
When warforged are used, DMs should be mindful of
potential controversies regarding the warforged: Do they
have a soul? How are they affected by being unable to
heal? They are affected as both a construct and a living
being, so including aspects or effects that target constructs
can be an effective way of including the warforged in the
action and getting around any seeming invulnerability the
race might have.
Warforged are perennial outsiders, longing to be ac-
cepted but forever the “other.” How do various races in
your campaign regard warforged? Are they part of a larger
society, or are they too scarce to form any concerted move-
ment? Do they even want to live among other races, or do
they look down on those who wish to be something other
than what they are?
The answers to these questions should provide role-
playing opportunities for warforged throughout your
campaign.
A DAY IN THE LIFE
Watcher detects a light blue tint in the windows across
the road and knows that only a few more hours remain
before dawn. He has learned from a thousand similar
nights that the blue tone will gradually brighten, first
to gray and then to a pale yellow. The sky over the build-
ing behind his back won’t grow bright enough to offer a
true reflection in the paned glass until just after dawn,
when his human employer will awaken and begin to
stir. Watcher ponders this as he stands motionless in
the doorway on the dark street, eyes and ears ever alert
for threats to his employer’s warehouse.
Despite the darkness and the danger of his nightly
vigils, Watcher looks to the coming day with resig-
nation rather than anticipation. Daylight brings the
hustle and bustle of city life, and it will no doubt
bring the hollered commands of his employer and
her sons. Although the night can bring confronta-
tions with thieves, daytime life is more complicated,
more troublesome. At night, this part of the ware-
house district can be so still and quiet that for hours
at a time Watcher feels as though he’s the only living
thing in the city.
On such nights, Watcher thinks about the Last War
and of his former comrades in arms who now work in
other parts of the city. All of them were adrift after
the Treaty of Thronehold declared them free. When
their unit was told of the treaty’s meaning, they simply
stood waiting in the rain for three days until their
human commander returned and ordered them to
disperse. For months they wandered the roads and
traveled through the wilderness aimlessly. Eventually
Watcher suggested that they try doing what humans
do in peacetime. All of them have jobs now, and
Watcher rarely sees them. A few work in the mines
outside town, some are part of the city watch, and
several work as salvagers when ships run aground on
the reefs in the bay.
As Watcher contemplates these things, his hands
work with a knife and a piece of wood. With swift
and deft cuts, he whittles almost unconsciously,
carving a small block of wood into the shape of
a lizardlike creature he once saw flying over the
battlefield, its rider casting lightning down with a
forked wand. When finished, he places the wooden
monster against the side of the building and picks
up another block of wood, never taking his eyes off
the shadowy street.
Inevitably, the sun rises. Watcher gazes impassively
as the first morning travelers go about their business.
Most passersby deliberately ignore him, which is a
vast improvement over when he first started work
at the warehouse. Some people spit on him as they
passed, calling him a job stealer. Watcher could do
the jobs of two or three humans, so the hostility made
sense, but he had to work somewhere to pay off his
debt for the repairs done on him when he arrived in
the city.
A dwarf dockworker Watcher had spoken to once
gives the warforged a habitual nod as he passes and
Watcher nods in return, pleased by even this small
affirmation of his presence. As usual, the neighbor-
hood children come squealing up to the building to
gather up his night’s carvings. One of them surprises
Watcher by having the courage to thank him instead
of simply grabbing a toy and running away.
In an hour, the coach of his employer arrives, and
she and her sons step down to enter the building.
Watcher follows them in, and when there is a break in
their morning chatter, he gives his report of the night.
Afterward, Watcher steps back outside to await other
commands, hopeful that they’ll require his services
elsewhere in the city. Instead, one of the sons comes
to tell him to stand ready in the warehouse to unload
wagons. Watcher thinks the man’s name is Barro, but
his employer has six sons, and they all look too similar
for him to tell them apart.
Watcher unloads wagons for a time. It’s simple work,
and Watcher’s mind is free to wander. After a while,
the sons and other workers sit down to eat, signaling
to Watcher that it is sometime after noon. They return
to work shortly, and everyone works hard and fast. As
the light outside the warehouse doors dims, Watcher
notes that the activity in the warehouse does not
diminish. The other workers are sweating and doing
the curious things typical of humans becoming tired.
They yawn more frequently and become clumsier
as the evening wears on, and eventually Watcher’s
employer orders them to go home. “Watcher can
finish the rest,” she says with some satisfaction—and
Watcher does.
It takes him several more hours to stack the unloaded
barrels and crates, but he does so without comment
or complaint. Standing in place or lugging heavy
cargo—it makes little difference to Watcher, as long
as he has something to do.
Watcher checks one last time to make certain he has
done all that his employer asked him to, and then he
steps out of the warehouse into the cool predawn air.
After locking the door behind him, Watcher turns his
back to the door and steps into the doorway, assuming
his customary post as guardian.
Watcher notes the yellow tone in the windows of
the building across the road. In an hour or two, the
dwarf will walk by again and another day’s labor will
begin. Watcher spends the time before his employer
returns wondering what it might be like to be a
dockworker or to join his old comrades in salvaging
cargo from the sea. Perhaps next year, he thinks, or
maybe tomorrow.
Watcher detects a light blue tint in the windows across
the road and knows that only a few more hours remain
before dawn. He has learned from a thousand similar
nights that the blue tone will gradually brighten, first
to gray and then to a pale yellow. The sky over the build-
ing behind his back won’t grow bright enough to offer a
true reflection in the paned glass until just after dawn,
when his human employer will awaken and begin to
stir. Watcher ponders this as he stands motionless in
the doorway on the dark street, eyes and ears ever alert
for threats to his employer’s warehouse.
Despite the darkness and the danger of his nightly
vigils, Watcher looks to the coming day with resig-
nation rather than anticipation. Daylight brings the
hustle and bustle of city life, and it will no doubt
bring the hollered commands of his employer and
her sons. Although the night can bring confronta-
tions with thieves, daytime life is more complicated,
more troublesome. At night, this part of the ware-
house district can be so still and quiet that for hours
at a time Watcher feels as though he’s the only living
thing in the city.
On such nights, Watcher thinks about the Last War
and of his former comrades in arms who now work in
other parts of the city. All of them were adrift after
the Treaty of Thronehold declared them free. When
their unit was told of the treaty’s meaning, they simply
stood waiting in the rain for three days until their
human commander returned and ordered them to
disperse. For months they wandered the roads and
traveled through the wilderness aimlessly. Eventually
Watcher suggested that they try doing what humans
do in peacetime. All of them have jobs now, and
Watcher rarely sees them. A few work in the mines
outside town, some are part of the city watch, and
several work as salvagers when ships run aground on
the reefs in the bay.
As Watcher contemplates these things, his hands
work with a knife and a piece of wood. With swift
and deft cuts, he whittles almost unconsciously,
carving a small block of wood into the shape of
a lizardlike creature he once saw flying over the
battlefield, its rider casting lightning down with a
forked wand. When finished, he places the wooden
monster against the side of the building and picks
up another block of wood, never taking his eyes off
the shadowy street.
Inevitably, the sun rises. Watcher gazes impassively
as the first morning travelers go about their business.
Most passersby deliberately ignore him, which is a
vast improvement over when he first started work
at the warehouse. Some people spit on him as they
passed, calling him a job stealer. Watcher could do
the jobs of two or three humans, so the hostility made
sense, but he had to work somewhere to pay off his
debt for the repairs done on him when he arrived in
the city.
A dwarf dockworker Watcher had spoken to once
gives the warforged a habitual nod as he passes and
Watcher nods in return, pleased by even this small
affirmation of his presence. As usual, the neighbor-
hood children come squealing up to the building to
gather up his night’s carvings. One of them surprises
Watcher by having the courage to thank him instead
of simply grabbing a toy and running away.
In an hour, the coach of his employer arrives, and
she and her sons step down to enter the building.
Watcher follows them in, and when there is a break in
their morning chatter, he gives his report of the night.
Afterward, Watcher steps back outside to await other
commands, hopeful that they’ll require his services
elsewhere in the city. Instead, one of the sons comes
to tell him to stand ready in the warehouse to unload
wagons. Watcher thinks the man’s name is Barro, but
his employer has six sons, and they all look too similar
for him to tell them apart.
Watcher unloads wagons for a time. It’s simple work,
and Watcher’s mind is free to wander. After a while,
the sons and other workers sit down to eat, signaling
to Watcher that it is sometime after noon. They return
to work shortly, and everyone works hard and fast. As
the light outside the warehouse doors dims, Watcher
notes that the activity in the warehouse does not
diminish. The other workers are sweating and doing
the curious things typical of humans becoming tired.
They yawn more frequently and become clumsier
as the evening wears on, and eventually Watcher’s
employer orders them to go home. “Watcher can
finish the rest,” she says with some satisfaction—and
Watcher does.
It takes him several more hours to stack the unloaded
barrels and crates, but he does so without comment
or complaint. Standing in place or lugging heavy
cargo—it makes little difference to Watcher, as long
as he has something to do.
Watcher checks one last time to make certain he has
done all that his employer asked him to, and then he
steps out of the warehouse into the cool predawn air.
After locking the door behind him, Watcher turns his
back to the door and steps into the doorway, assuming
his customary post as guardian.
Watcher notes the yellow tone in the windows of
the building across the road. In an hour or two, the
dwarf will walk by again and another day’s labor will
begin. Watcher spends the time before his employer
returns wondering what it might be like to be a
dockworker or to join his old comrades in salvaging
cargo from the sea. Perhaps next year, he thinks, or
maybe tomorrow.
WARFORGED PSYCHOLOGY
The technology used to create warforged began with the
methods used to create mindless constructs. Although
true sentience was a goal, there was little thought given
to what the effects of sentience would be or how to best
prepare those minds for their new existence.
At the moment of a warforged’s first awakening to
the living world, it can understand the language of its
creator and instinctively knows how to move its body,
but in all other respects the newly created warforged is
a blank slate. At this early stage, any creature has great
power to mold the future psychology of a warforged.
It has no knowledge of the world, no understanding
of falsehood, and no feelings about good or evil. Lies
told to it then might be considered truth forever, or at
least until disproved.
Most warforged were created in the forges of House
Cannith. During the Last War, House Cannith had
heavily regulated regimens of instruction for warforged.
At their core was the understanding that a warforged
was not entitled to choose for itself. It was created for
one purpose: to be obedient to and fight for whomever
bought it.
This simple concept required months of instruction.
Although fighting came naturally enough, warforged
had to be taught the use of weapons and tactics. They
were instructed in how to recognize enemies, know
allies, and improvise when left without commands.
Most of this training took the form of elaborate war
games in which warforged fought one another with
real weapons while artificers and magewrights stood
on hand to heal them. The victors received praise and
saw the exultation on the faces of their human com-
manders, while the losers were berated.
At this point most warforged felt their first emo-
tions. For most it was a single feeling: pride or shame,
joy or jealousy. From then on, the warforged fought to
preserve or quell that feeling through combat. It was
better to feel nothing than to be jealous of others or
shameful, and to maintain joy or pride, a warforged
had to succeed constantly in battle. This simple view
of the world served the warforged’s creators and
buyers well.
Next came fear. Although sometimes it is magically
induced, most warforged first experience fear not in
the face of overwhelming odds or terrible carnage, but
when they realize that death means an end to experi-
ence. For a warforged, this is a traumatic revelation.
Warforged were designed not to require sleep;
they don’t have any reckoning of a time when they
aren’t able to experience what happens around them.
When a warforged was awakened from incapacity,
it saw for the first time that the world moved with-
out its input, things changed over which it had no
control, and time passed without its knowledge. At
this point, House Cannith trainers explained death
to the warforged as equivalent to oblivion. Once that
information had been implanted, fear could then
be used as a motivator to get warforged to do their
creators’ bidding.
Warforged learned about other emotions on the
battlefield. Most gained a sense of camaraderie from
sharing battlefield successes and failures, but few
know what real friendship is, and fewer still under-
stand an emotion as complicated as love. Hate comes
somewhat more easily to warforged. Warforged who
know jealousy can most easily understand hate,
but any warforged who cares for his comrades and
fears for his life can come to hate an enemy that
threatens both.
When the Last War ended and the Treaty of Throne-
hold declared warforged to be free beings, warforged
lost the structure of their existence. Suddenly thou-
sands of warforged were left bereft of leadership or
purpose. This bewildering freedom led to a profusion
of lifestyle choices.
In Thrane and Karrnath, most warforged became
indentured servants, tireless workers who could
rebuild the lands ruined by war. In other lands,
many warforged stood on the mustering fields for
days or weeks, waiting for orders that would never
come. Some warforged then banded together to
decide what to do, while others looked to one of
their own for a leader. Still others immediately set
out in search of a life free of war. In those chaotic
days that followed their freedom, warforged made
their choices based on their feelings about the four
facets of their free lives discussed below. The ideas
they formed then about these core facets of their lives
ruled their psychology and influenced the choices
they made.
The technology used to create warforged began with the
methods used to create mindless constructs. Although
true sentience was a goal, there was little thought given
to what the effects of sentience would be or how to best
prepare those minds for their new existence.
At the moment of a warforged’s first awakening to
the living world, it can understand the language of its
creator and instinctively knows how to move its body,
but in all other respects the newly created warforged is
a blank slate. At this early stage, any creature has great
power to mold the future psychology of a warforged.
It has no knowledge of the world, no understanding
of falsehood, and no feelings about good or evil. Lies
told to it then might be considered truth forever, or at
least until disproved.
Most warforged were created in the forges of House
Cannith. During the Last War, House Cannith had
heavily regulated regimens of instruction for warforged.
At their core was the understanding that a warforged
was not entitled to choose for itself. It was created for
one purpose: to be obedient to and fight for whomever
bought it.
This simple concept required months of instruction.
Although fighting came naturally enough, warforged
had to be taught the use of weapons and tactics. They
were instructed in how to recognize enemies, know
allies, and improvise when left without commands.
Most of this training took the form of elaborate war
games in which warforged fought one another with
real weapons while artificers and magewrights stood
on hand to heal them. The victors received praise and
saw the exultation on the faces of their human com-
manders, while the losers were berated.
At this point most warforged felt their first emo-
tions. For most it was a single feeling: pride or shame,
joy or jealousy. From then on, the warforged fought to
preserve or quell that feeling through combat. It was
better to feel nothing than to be jealous of others or
shameful, and to maintain joy or pride, a warforged
had to succeed constantly in battle. This simple view
of the world served the warforged’s creators and
buyers well.
Next came fear. Although sometimes it is magically
induced, most warforged first experience fear not in
the face of overwhelming odds or terrible carnage, but
when they realize that death means an end to experi-
ence. For a warforged, this is a traumatic revelation.
Warforged were designed not to require sleep;
they don’t have any reckoning of a time when they
aren’t able to experience what happens around them.
When a warforged was awakened from incapacity,
it saw for the first time that the world moved with-
out its input, things changed over which it had no
control, and time passed without its knowledge. At
this point, House Cannith trainers explained death
to the warforged as equivalent to oblivion. Once that
information had been implanted, fear could then
be used as a motivator to get warforged to do their
creators’ bidding.
Warforged learned about other emotions on the
battlefield. Most gained a sense of camaraderie from
sharing battlefield successes and failures, but few
know what real friendship is, and fewer still under-
stand an emotion as complicated as love. Hate comes
somewhat more easily to warforged. Warforged who
know jealousy can most easily understand hate,
but any warforged who cares for his comrades and
fears for his life can come to hate an enemy that
threatens both.
When the Last War ended and the Treaty of Throne-
hold declared warforged to be free beings, warforged
lost the structure of their existence. Suddenly thou-
sands of warforged were left bereft of leadership or
purpose. This bewildering freedom led to a profusion
of lifestyle choices.
In Thrane and Karrnath, most warforged became
indentured servants, tireless workers who could
rebuild the lands ruined by war. In other lands,
many warforged stood on the mustering fields for
days or weeks, waiting for orders that would never
come. Some warforged then banded together to
decide what to do, while others looked to one of
their own for a leader. Still others immediately set
out in search of a life free of war. In those chaotic
days that followed their freedom, warforged made
their choices based on their feelings about the four
facets of their free lives discussed below. The ideas
they formed then about these core facets of their lives
ruled their psychology and influenced the choices
they made.
. It's very much worth reading the whole chapter because it continues along with other related topics
Last edited:
Stormonu
Legend
You could go several directions in this in a more fantasy (and Ravenloft) twist:
The Created style where spirits are being ported to wooden maquettes/golems under his control, making them undead constructs, resistant to turning and magic but with a chance of going berserk. There could be some grotesquery in what is done with the fleshy shells of those spirits transferred to the "puppet" shells, possibly with them put on display in Geiger-like dioramas.
Clockworks where the vital organs are removed and placed into metal shells filled with saw-like gears kept run by meatgrinding bodies and oiled with bodily fluids. Armed of course with an attachments of saws and other surgical and/or butchering tools.
Hellraiser where there is skeletal (warforged) shell underneath and the flesh is worn over like a suit. By means of a demonic pact the two are fused together, giving unnatural life to the construct's unliving frame. Yet the flesh is just a facade, and what lies underneath is just a cold, unfeeling shell of a being yearning to feel alive in a way it never really can. It has the benefit it can change its skin to become someone else outwardly, but deep down it will always be a hallow outsider to humanity.
UngeheuerLich
Legend
Do you need an explicit expiration date?
Show me a technical device that lives forever and does not show signs of wear someday.
