[Channel Teaser]
How The Heroic Warforged Lived On Forever
I was playing a warforged paladin named Sprocket
in a game of 3.5 starting at level 3.
The DM decided to use the critical hit deck
for fun shenanigans, which is important later.
I opt for the party to find me later in session
because I would be running a little late.
The party: a shifter wizard, half-elf paladin,
half-orc ninja, and a tiefling monk.
They find a beaten and heavily damaged warforged
motionless in the forest surrounded by a horde
of dead goblins.
The goblins tried to ambush the warforged
and paid the price for it.
The paladin investigated the warforged and
used disable device check to see if he can
make repairs.
There is a hefty penalty for doing the opposite
of the skill but he rolled a nat 20.
Cogs and gears spun up inside the warforged.
It shuddered violently and oil spurt out of
a few minor wounds.
Internal components whine as everything sorts
itself out.
He stared blankly at the Paladin still trying
to come to grips with no longer being dead.
“I’m going to call you Sprocket,” the
Paladin decided.
“I don’t think we need a mobile toaster
as a pet,” the Wizard mumbled.
Robotic laughter rumbled out of Sprocket as
he pantomimed a full belly laugh.
I slip the DM a note asking to see if I came
equipped with a built in toaster.
“Sure.
Why not?”
Four perfectly toasted slices of sourdough
bread popped into his hands with a ding which
he gladly handed out to the party.
Everyone except the Wizard laughed and took
the bread.
He still doesn’t trust the warforged because
he’s a machine, but the paladin vouched
for him because Sprocket is wearing the tabard
of his god.
The tiefling thinks that Sprocket is amusing
because he dispenses both justice and toast,
and the ninja is just happy to have someone
else to get between the baddies and herself.
They find the remaining group of goblins camped
out a few more miles into the forest.
Most are injured and licking their wounds
when the party descends on them.
It is bloody and quick; the goblin’s didn’t
get a chance to fight back.
The party divided the loot the goblins had
been hoarding and Sprocket passed on everything.
The only thing he needs is his greatsword.
The party calls for a rest and Sprocket volunteered
to keep watch.
Warforged don’t need sleep and they need
something to stay busy; otherwise they’ll
go insane.
He spent the night organizing the party’s
belongings and doing maintenance on their
armor and weapons with his craft arms and
armor.
Everything is sharp, polished, and like new.
Some of the party isn’t happy that Sprocket
went through their belongings when they wake
up.
He doesn’t understand why they are angry
with him
“You need to ask for permission before handling
other people's property,” the Paladin explained.
“Understood.”
With the sun up and the party ready, they
continue onward.
Unfortunately, the black robes and chanting
were a dead give away, and so they run into
a group of cultists.
“Why is it okay to hurt these people?
And take their stuff?”
Sprocket asked as he swung his greatsword
into the soft fleshy skull of a cultist.
“These are bad guys that are doing bad things.
It is our moral duty to hurt them,” the
paladin replied.
“Moral duty,” Sprocket said to himself
thoughtfully.
With the pain and justice dispensed, it was
time for another round of toast.
The party accepted the toast and proceeded
to loot the cultists of their very few worldly
possessions.
The paladin went from cultist to cultist praying
over them: “. . . and to take and shelter
their souls,” he finished.
“Souls?
What are those?”
Sprocket asked the paladin.
“A soul is knowing what pain feels like
and not wanting to see others hurt.”
Sprocket thought about that for a second.
“Do I have a soul?”
The party went silent.
They all looked to the paladin.
“I believe you do,” he answered, resting
a hand on Sprocket’s shoulder.
Sprocket nodded, happy enough with the response.
“Hey check this out!” the Ninja called
out, breaking the awkward tension in the room.
Hidden in a small nook in the back of the
chamber is a large chest.
The ninja reached out to throw the latch,
greed clouding his judgement.
“Wait, it could be trapped!”
Sprocket lunged forward, throwing the ninja
aside.
“Stand back companions!”
He kicked the latch, splintering the lock,
throwing the lid open.
He braced himself for the inevitable but no
gas, or fire, or anything shot out of the
broken chest.
A glimmering shield peaked out from inside
the chest along with a few trinkets and coin.
“Oh.
Nevermind.”
Sprocket said, sheepishly taking the shield
out.
“For you,” he handed the shield over to
the paladin.
The wizard cast detect magic on the shield.
It is enchanted with an abjuration school
aura.
They traveled deeper into the dungeon and
found a mindflayer being menacing and evil.
“You fools.
You audacious, precocious, possibly delicious
fools.”
His tentacles curled and writhed as he spoke.
“You will regret trespassing here for eternity
as I delve into the tiniest recesses of your
mind and --”
Sprocket swung his greatsword, narrowly missing
the chattering Mind flayer.
“So it’s like that,” the mind flayer’s
words blast into their minds, stunning everyone
except Sprocket momentarily.
The mind flayer opened a shimmering purple
portal.
A heavy tentacle groped forward from the rent
in space as a tentacled abomination slithered
out.
Sprocket takes a swing at the tentacles pulling
the grotesque misshapen body.
It screamed out in pain as the heavy blade
bit deep.
A tentacle whipped into Sprocket’s side,
small hooks tearing apart metal spraying oil
across the floor.
The mind flayer laughed, confident that his
pet would finish off the party.
Then he stepped through the portal, letting
it dissipate behind him.
Sprocket dragged himself up off the floor
and squared himself up against the tentacled
beast.
The party had recovered from the mental blast
and charged forward.
Sprocket took another hit from the creature,
oil pouring out in a thick stream from his
ruined torso.
But he did his job, and held the line as the
rest of the group attacked.
They cleaved, blasted, and cut the creature
into calamari.
The paladin moved to Sprocket’s side and
attempted to cast lay on hands.
But it doesn’t work.
“Only repair damage spells will work,”
the DM said smugly.
The group collectively rolled their eyes and
pressed on.
They searched the rest of the dungeon, found
some loot and returned to town to get Sprocket
fixed up by a mechanic.
They rested, ate toast, and celebrated.
They heard rumors that a mind flayer had set
up in ancient ruins nearby.
Must be the same mind flayer that ran away
like a coward.
They stocked up on repair damage and cure
wounds scrolls.
Sprocket made toast that they imbued with
lay on hands.
“Healing toast is best toast.”
Sprocket said happily.
The party broke into the mind flayer’s lair.
He is ready for them.
Traps are set up throughout the entire dungeon.
But the DM keeps forgetting that Sprocket
is a warforged.
He led the way, triggering most of the traps
which are poisonous.
Can’t poison steel.
He took very little damage from a DR trinket
the Paladin diplomatted him into wearing.
They take a quick rest, patched themselves
up and entered the final room to see the mind
flayer sitting in a chair waiting for them.
He didn’t waste any time with a monologue
this time and hit the party with a mind blast.
The fleshy people in Sprocket’s group grabbed
their heads in agony.
Sprocket is unaffected and charges into the
chamber.
The mind flayer won initiative and stunned
the wizard.
Sprocket used a scroll to remove the stun
effect.
The wizard cast greater invisibility on the
ninja who snuck forward, separating himself
from the group.
The paladin hefted his new magic shield and
strode forward.
The tiefling monk launched forward, unleashing
a flurry of blows scoring a number of hits
before the mind flayer teleported away, appearing
on the other side of the room.
He hurled a fireball into the party.
Flames washed over Sprocket, the heat causing
his internal machinery to hiss and pop.
The ninja hurled an exploding shuriken into
the mind flayer’s back, eliciting a pained
shout.
Sprocket felt a surge of strength run through
his body.
The wizard throws him a wink and finishes
casting bull’s strength.
When a prayer shouted at the top of his lungs
the paladin smited the mind flayer, distracting
it long enough for the monk to attack.
He used ki to dimension door toward the mind
flayer and unleashed another flurry of blows.
The mind flayer lashed out, casting lightning
bolt at the wizard who takes minimal damage,
with Sprocket taking half.
Sprocket charged and crits.
The DM pulls from the deck of many things.
Sprocket’s strike slammed the mind flayer
60 feet backwards.
The mind flayer had his back to a large stone
pillar.
He took d6 damage; for every 10 feet he couldn’t
travel.
Clutching at his mostly broken body, the mind
flayer began to panic.
He teleported away again and cast a wave of
crushing psionic energy.
The wave swept through the cavern slamming
against the party and the cavern’s support
pillars.
Sprocket fell to his knees, too weak to stand.
Chunks of the ceiling cascaded down around
the party.
“It’s coming down!
Get out!”
The paladin shouted over the chaos and debris.
They took cover at the entrance.
“Where’s Sprocket?”
The wizard realized that Sprocket wasn’t
with the group.
“Stay here!”
The paladin ordered and ran back to Sprockets
side.
“Don’t worry about me.
Go.”
“We can’t leave you!”
Sprocket slowly stood up, oil leaking out
from every joint and wound.
Something inside Sprocket began to burn with
furious heat and blinding light.
“Run.
I don’t want any of my friends getting hurt,”
he said with a smile and just a hint of sadness.
“Being alive means you cherish life itself
so much you give your own to save others.”
The heat inside Sprocket intensified.
Light enveloped his body.
A wave of calmness swept through him.
He knew what this feeling was; with every
bolt and bit that made him what he was, this
is what actually defined him.
His soul.
A large slab of the ceiling broke free crashing
against a pillar snapping it in half.
“Please.
Go.”
The paladin hesitated but turned from his
companion and ran back to the entrance.
Sprocket took a staggering step forward, then
another, and another.
He picked up speed with each step.
The mind flayer wheezed out a curse and promises
of death.
Sprocket doesn’t hear.
He doesn’t care; he’s already made up
his mind.
He broke into a sprint, lowered his weapon,
and impaled the mind flayer against the wall.
“You talk too much.”
The explosion ripped through the cavern, incinerating
the mind flayer and bringing the entire cavern
down.
The party barely made it out of the ruins
as it collapsed around them.
Covered in dust, blood, and sadness, they
returned to the cavern in search for Sprocket.
They found his blown out core and took it
to the paladin’s temple.
The high priest declared Sprocket a saint
and his core was repaired so that others could
be forged with his blueprints.
All this so that Sprocket’s soul would continue
to live on forever.
I guess Warforged do have souls.
What an incredible story with the possibility
of creating a Sprocket Version 2 in the future.
Have you ever had a character discover something
profound about themselves?
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